#very good day!! caught up in most of my classes

[msschemmenti]

girl next door 🏠-7

a/n: at this point— i’m just doing shit 😭

Summer turned to fall rather quickly and things had settled pretty nicely for the ladies. The women had only been sleeping together for about a month but they’d all fallen into this new dynamic pretty easily. Everyone was learning new things about themselves and each other and it was making for a very interesting friendship.

Like now, Y/n and JJ were sprawled around her living room working quietly. JJ, reading through case consults, and Y/n working through a few papers. Emily had been tagged into a last-minute interrogation at some prison and jj didn’t particularly fancy spending her evening alone, so she’d made her way over to Y/n’s door as soon as she put the car in park. Having spent her day cleaning and sending out project feedback, Y/n welcomed the blonde in with a smile and instructions to get comfortable while she grabbed them snacks until dinner time.

They worked in relative silence for a bit until JJ seemed finally cracked. Her eyes had strayed from the crime scene photos far too many times for her to provide an actual consult. So when she caught sight of Y/n returning to the living room in one of her signature lounge sets, JJ couldn’t stop herself from pulling the young professor into her lap. Y/n fell easily with a laugh, straddling JJ with raised eyebrows.

“I thought we were working?” Y/n asked teasingly.

“I can’t focus when you’re walking around looking this good.” JJ’s mouth instantly started working the column of Y/n’s neck and by now she was starting to pick up on just how to work the younger woman’s body to get the reaction she wanted. JJ was efficient and had Y/n humming softly and stretching her neck to give her more room to work.

“You know, I’m starting to realize how insatiable your libido is.” Y/n chuckled as she felt JJ’s hands crawl up her shirt to rest in one of her favorite places.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” JJ snickered. “And you’re not exactly helping it. You’ve been walking around in practically nothing for the last hour and a half. I think I deserve some praise for holding out as long as I did.” JJ chided with a nip to the younger woman’s neck.

Before Y/n could even reply, her phone started ringing on the coffee table. She pulled away from JJ, much to the older woman’s dismay, and reached for her phone to see who was calling. JJ, hardly one to be deterred turned her attention to the parts of the younger woman’s body that were still in her reach. Y/n eyed her phone curiously but answered.

“Tina?” Y/n asked as she held the phone to her ear.

“Hi, is now a bad time?” The woman spoke nervously. Y/n’s eyes met JJ’s mischievous eyes and she pulled her hands from under her shirt to rest on her hips. With a pout, the older woman lowered her hands fractionally to cup her behind instead.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but didn’t move them. “No, now's fine. What’s up?”

“Well, I’m in DC— for a show and I wanted to or was hoping to see you. Only if you want, of course. Last time we talked, you said to reach out if I was ever in town. And I’m here. So I’m reaching out.” Tina rambled nervously.

“Well of course I wanna see you. No need to work yourself up honey,” Y/n spoke softly into the phone. The term of endearment piques JJ’s interest. She knew her neighbor rained pet names when she addressed people, she claimed it was part of her Southern charm. But in the months they’d known each other she’d never heard the name Tina before.

“I’m sorry, I just- you know how I get.” Tina sighed over the phone with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“I do. How long are you here for? I’m teaching during most days but we could definitely do dinner.” Y/n asked flipping her hair out of her face a bit, completely missing the way JJ studied her.

“I’m here until Monday, then we’re heading to Chicago. The show will be Friday through Sunday.”

“Okay, it’s Wednesday now— can you squeeze me in tomorrow night? I’ll stay in town after my classes and then we can meet. And if you’re nice, I’ll come see your show.” Y/n teased softly down the line, easily falling into the banter of their past.

JJ was so close enough to the younger woman, that she could practically hear the woman on the other line laugh and agree. She watched as Y/n smiled giddily and confirmed plans for the following day and a familiar yet confusing fire began to burn in her stomach. Familiar, yes. She’d been known to have a bit of a jealous streak. Confusing, also yes. Because she’d only ever really felt that way with Emily. Never for any other partner. And certainly not for any of the women they’d taken to their bed, casually. As the thought passed her mind, she nodded in realization. Oh, this is definitely new.

When Emily and JJ finally stopped fighting their desires and fell into the whole, neighbors-with-benefits sort of arrangement there was bound to be some confusion considering they had never really brought another woman into their relationship consistently. It had always been a one-night-stand-see-you-never sort of deal. Often occurring after a particularly rough case over drinks in a dimly lit bar on the other side of town. They usually never even brought the women to their house. For safety reasons primarily but also because they knew what kind of message that sent to women and they weren’t interested in that sort of thing. Then Y/n moved in and she was just so attractive and so close. They’d convinced themselves that after one time they’d be able to dispel any of those feelings of attraction. That’s how it had worked any other time they took someone to bed. But they were sorely mistaken. Not only had they progressed to inviting Y/n into their personal bed, it was as if their experiences with her were bleeding into their personal intimacy. No matter how many times they washed their sheets they stilled smelled of her release. Any time they rolled into bed to sleep or do a little more than sleep, their minds wandered to their unbelievably attractive neighbor down the street. The neighbor they had writhing between them for hours, gripping their silken sheets, pleading for sweet release. It worked wonders for their already active sex life but it always left them feigning for another night with her. So they stopped counting. And everyone seemed happier that way. The street’s orgasm count was up and who would complain about that?

At this point they’d slept together maybe, 7 times over the last month. All of which had been initiated by Emily or JJ. It almost always happened like this. After defiling Y/n’s couch for the second time they exchanged numbers— everyone anticipating the routine forming. They’d decide before they left work who’d actually reach out. If it was early enough, the younger woman would offer whatever she had for dinner to them and after they’d all eaten together the older women would lead the younger woman to their bedroom. And once the deed was done, Y/n was heading back to her house leaving both women leftovers of their meal. Very casual, very neighborly, very not jealousy-inducing (so far). So when JJ felt that familiar burning in her gut, she knew something else was going on.

“Listen, let me know what your schedules looking like tomorrow and i’ll find us somewhere for dinner. Are you still off Chinese? Figured. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/n spoke down the phone before ending the call and turning her attention back to the blonde underneath her. “Sorry bout that.”

JJ nodded and eyed the younger woman curiously, hands still settle on her ass, “Friend in town?”

Y/n nodded, tossing her phone to the other end of the couch, “Yeah, I think I may have mentioned my closest friend in location was in New York when we first met. Well, her shows traveling and we’re gonna get together.”

JJ aimed for casually curious, nothing more than a friend asking about another friend, “That’s nice, were you close before you moved here?”

“Oh yeah, we lived together for a year before she moved up to New York last spring for a role,” Y/n answered easily.

“Roommates? Oh, that’s nice that you kept in touch.” JJ said feeling the relief inching into her body at the simple answer.

“Yeah, roommates. We really leaned into that U-haul lesbian stereotype. Although, i think six months is better than some of couples i’ve known.” Y/n counted absentmindedly.

“Oh! She’s your ex? Like the year and a half one?” JJ asked, feeling the jealousy flair intensely.

“Uh huh, gosh I forget how loose lipped I get when I drink.” Y/n smiled, kissing JJ’s lips chastely and rising from her lap. “I’m going to start dinner, are y’all eating with me tonight?”

JJ answered affirmatively and watched as the younger woman started working around her kitchen to prepare for dinner. She’d need to swallow whatever she was feeling—cause it’s casual.

-

“God, DC looks good on you.” Tina smiled fondly from across the dinner table. Y/n had picked a restaurant within walking distance to where Tina was staying and she was definitely taking advantage of that fact as she nursed her fourth drink.

“Oh stop that! I look exactly the same as I did when I dropped you at the airport last May. If we’re talking who looks what— the stage is agreeing with my baby. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this light and free.”

“That might be the liquor talking.” Tina grinned.

“Uh huh, you always did have a low tolerance. My lil baby.” Y/n teased, reaching across the table to pinch at the older woman’s cheek affectionately. “Tell me, who’re you bedding now? Some young ingenue in the chorus line?”

“Ha! No no. I’m not currently involved with anyone. Haven’t had much time with the show traveling— and you know the new york dating scene is not my speed.”

“Awe come on, the girls not seeing how lovable your little shy, nervous thing is? We both know how well that worked on me.”

“Yeah— I fear they’re not like you.” Tina shrugged, downing the rest of her drink. She waved the waitress down for another and studied her ex closely. “Now you my dear, are definitely getting laid. Tell me about that.”

Y/n blushed under her gaze and rolled her eyes, “Oh you know, nothing serious. My married neighbors have just been screwin’ my brains out for the last month.”

“Oh ho ho— now that’s one way to do it. Glad one of us is getting laid.” Tina cheers, clinking their glasses together. “What does ‘nothing serious’ mean though?”

“It’s casual. They’ve got pretty high pressure jobs and you know how healing an orgasm can be. My dating experience here has been pretty rough and you know what they say— kill two birds with one stone and such.”

“well good for you, babe. Glad to see you’re making DC home.”

It wasn’t long after that the women stumbled out of the restaurant giggling sweetly. “Oh, you’re drunker than Cooter Brown. Come on I’ll walk back to your hotel, make sure you can actually go on this weekend.”

“Oh no, then who will walk you back? I don’t want you out here alone, how can I protect you?” Tina slurred, leaning into Y/n’s arm.

“Sweetness, you couldn’t protect a fly right now. I’ll be fine.”

“No— just stay the night. I’ve got two beds and you’ve had almost as much as me.”

“Alright, alright. Sleepover it is. Start movin’ though— my feet are killing me.”

-

“What is your deal? You’ve been glued to that window or your phone all evening.” Emily asked curiously looking over JJ’s shoulder for a sign of what she was watching.

“Nothing…” JJ shrugged tearing her gaze from her neighbor’s empty driveway.

“Yeah right, nothing my ass. Try that again.” Emily scoffed, lifting JJ’s feet onto her lap.

“It really is nothing, i was just wondering if Y/n was back for the night.”

“She’s not home yet? That’s weird, most nights she’s in bed by 9 at the latest. Didn’t she say she was having dinner with her friend tonight?” Emily mused curiously watching JJ’s features closely. JJ hummed noncommittally turning distractedly as a pair of headlights bathed the dark street. Emily eyebrows lowered together in confusion, “Jen, come on. What do you know— should we be concerned about this friend of hers?”

At the genuine concern in Emily’s voice JJ sighed and slumped against the couch sheepishly. “No, no. I’m being crazy and I have no clue why. Her ex is in town and I hadn’t anticipated her being gone all night.”

“Oh.” Emily replied (teetering between nonchalance and intrigued). “Her ex as in the one she dated for a year and a half? That’s nice of her to visit.”

“Yeah, super nice.”

“You know if i didn’t know any better— I’d say this attitude of yours is because you’re jealous…” Emily prodded, poking at the sole of JJ foot.

“What? No. I was just thinking— we never really talked about the logistics of our arrangement. And safety wise I think it might be a good idea to figure out.”

Emily peeked through the curtain herself, “Right, right. You think she’s sleeping with her?” Emily asked suddenly struggling to maintain her nonchalance.

“Well they sounded pretty chummy when she called. And she’s not home yet. And it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. She’s a free agent.”

“That she is. Well I’m sure she’s having a good time.” Emily threw over her shoulder flippantly, eyes still trained on the street. “But you’re right, maybe we should think safety logistics. And such.”

[demigod-shenanigans]

Hi I’m super stuck on the “Nicknames/Wilderness”  prompt for Day 1 of Lost Trio Week, and for various reasons I only have a week to write something. If you could be so kind as to drop a few hcs/thoughts that might get me inspired to write, that would be very much appreciated! (The writer’s block is real)

Laughing a little bit because that’s the prompt I’m also stuck on

I will share headcanons, too, but a general gentle reminder: if it’s too much or you’re not feeling a certain prompt, you can absolutely participate in lost trio week without participating in every single day. Also not sure how you’re doing it, but personally, I’m not writing these in order. I started with Day Four because that was the one I felt most inspired to work on

That being said:

-If we’re talking Wilderness as in Wilderness School, Leo and Piper clicked the moment they met. I’m not sure what it was, exactly—maybe he made a stupid joke and she was the only one that laughed. Maybe she caught him trying to play a prank on someone and wanted in on it. Whatever it was, they’ve been inseparable ever since. It could be interesting to explore some of those memories, or how they looked like with Jason added, or maybe what it would have been like if Jason had actually ended up at the school with them somehow.

-When it comes to Wilderness as more of a general concept, one of the specific silly things my brain just went to was camping trip. Piper has little to no skills when it comes to that stuff. She’s lived in mansions and had private chefs for most of her childhood. The closest she’s ever come to camping has been missions and the time her and her dad camped in the yard of her grandpa’s old home when she was ten, but that wasn’t real camping. Jason has lived in the woods before when he was very little and probably has skills based on that and some stuff he picked up from survival classes in that context, but living with wolves is very different from regular camping and if he’s ever had to apply his theoretical Camp knowledge, he cannot remember it. Leo has the most practical skills when it comes to sleeping outside but he was just kind of making shit up as he went and didn’t really have equipment. —This is all to say they take like an hour failing to set up a tent. Leo has never been more frustrated in his life because he rebuilt a celestial bronze dragon from scratch but is somehow being foiled by a tent instruction manual. Jason keeps bringing up that sleeping under the stars at age three wasn’t that bad. Piper goes from frustrated to laughing hysterically because this being the thing they fail at after every ridiculous impossible task they’ve mastered is objectively hilarious. The whole trip is a disaster for a variety of reasons but I feel like they end up having a great time

-I’m not very good with Nicknames (neither as a prompt nor as a general concept honestly, I’m not really someone who gives people nicknames a lot), but one of the things that comes to mind there could be these changing over the years? Leo and Piper go from strangers to friends and use nicknames for each other for the first time, and it means something, because Leo’s not stuck around another person for long enough to come up with a nickname in years. Jason getting a nickname from Piper and Leo and not really being sure why it feels as strange as it does since he doesn’t have his memories—Reyna doesn’t feel like she’s the type of person to really use nicknames, and since everyone at Camp Jupiter saw him as a leader, I don’t feel like they’d casually call him by some nickname either. Jason hearing that nickname and it being meaningful because for the first time in ages he feels like a kid instead of a leader. Jason getting to use a nickname for Leo and/or Piper for the first time and it feeling significant for the same reason. Jason and Piper post-breakup trying to figure out what to call each other now because they’re objectively better as friends but it’s still weird and new and everything is different and it’s too strange to keep using the same nicknames they did when they were dating.

Hope some of this was helpful!! Please feel free to use however much or little of it as you’d like! Writing this out actually helped me massively because it made me realize I’m a massive idiot and do have a concept I want to use for this prompt (not any of the above ones so again please feel free to grab them if you’d like!) so thank you for that haha

[mxxnkirby]

hi hi hi again! in a very pinkcore/cutcore mood after working on my sakura webgarden ^-^!!!

i ate a twix(50) a nice girl in class gave me and for dinner i drank starbucks coffee(300) and ate pasta(310)!!

total -> 660

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[cookinguptales]

You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.

So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.

But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.

The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.

It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.

This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."

And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.

Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.

I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.

This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.

Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.

Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.

So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?

And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.

They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.

If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.

If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."

But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.

Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.

If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.

What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.

Today I'm deleting podcasts.

[l0vergirls]

just a little something that's been on my mind for a while now, like it's actually rotting my brain.

cw: stalking, a bit nsfw near the end, just general yandere stuff, not proof-read!!!!! so sorry if its a bit messy !!!!

★ (romantic) yandere!batfam x reader

imagine being the shared darling of the batfam.

it only takes one of them for the rest to fall in love with you, too.

let's say you meet tim during one of the days he actually decides to go to class, and he's thanking the heavens he did.

slowly, he starts to integrate himself into your daily life, and into your friend group. they all love him, of course. who wouldn't love the kind, funny, and handsome tim drake?

during all of this, he'd already told his brothers about you, and because they can't hide anything from bruce, he finds out about you too. unsurprisingly, they come to appreciate you as much as tim has.

and suddenly, you get a particularly handsome new neighbour in the apartment across from you (which you didn't know was even up for rent) and somehow always seems to be in the middle of stripping when you're home. almost as if he can feel your eyes on him. of course, you make sure not to get caught, and avert your eyes as soon as the cloth leaves his waist.

later, you find out his name is jason, and make a good friend out of him. he smokes on his balcony, while you drink coffee on yours.

barely a week after that, you get a new regular at the café you work at. his name's dick grayson. he says it's probably best for you to yell out his last name for his orders too. he's a detective, which explains the late nights he comes into the café. he's always got a stupidly handsome smile on his face, which only adds onto his neverending charm.

and during the occasion that you're walking home alone, you always seem to run into one of the many vigilantes that guard gotham.

you meet both batman and robin during one of your walks home. you're not scared of them, as most people are; you're merely fascinated at the tall figure that towers over you, and his more colourful counterpart that is also taller than you. robin seems to be just a couple years younger than you. and batman... you can't seem to get a read on the man.

you greet them both as calmly as you can, a small smile on your lips. you get nods of acknowledgment from both of them, which you suppose is the most you're getting.

batman doesn't seem to like that you're walking alone, so he sends robin to walk you home. you don't understand why, and you tell them you've walked this route many times already, that they probably have worse things to take care of.

he tells you that you can never be too sure in gotham. with the way he says it, in that gravelly tone, you can't find yourself to disagree.

on your walk, now with robin's company, you feel safer. you also find out this robin is a man of few words, very unlike the last few robins yet much like batman.

the next night, you run into red robin, who has an air of familiarity around him. he's real friendly— in fact, it's almost like talking to a friend. you think you've seen his smile before.

the night after that, you meet nightwing in all of his spandex-clad glory. he's charming, almost flirty.

and for a week, you don't bump into any of the vigilantes, but you do feel watched. you should be frightened, by all means, but you have a feeling deep in your stomach that tells you they won't hurt you. whoever they are.

you see red hood after that week. he's the more intimidating one of the bunch, you reckon. you've nothing to be scared of, knowing he (along with all the others) only goes after the real awful people. you're not guilty of anything, as far as you know.

his voice is almost robotic, as if being run through a voice changer. it doesn't do much to help his image, though you suppose that's the point. he asks what a little thing like you is doing walking around these parts. you say you're just heading home, like all the times you've met one of them.

he lets you on his motorcycle. if you were paying enough attention, maybe you would've felt his heart beating a mile a minute.

your days go on like this for a while. class, work, walk home with one of gotham's protectors. rinse and repeat.

unbeknownst to you, cameras have been planted all around your apartment. in many angles of your bedroom too, save for your bathroom. they've decided to give you privacy in there. no matter how much dick begged.

though they do have clips saved of you walking around in just a towel, or your underwear. god knows what they're doing with those.

but truly, can you blame them? you've invaded the deepest crevices of their minds, your smell lingering on their noses, and the shape of your lips following them in their dreams.

oh, they can vividly see— almost feel your lips on theirs, and they wonder what you look like when your face is scrunched up from pleasure, as their fingers enter you.

but they'll have to wait a little longer. and they'll be damned if they lose you, when you're playing right into their hands.

this got so long !!!! i had to let this all out somewhere <//3 definitely gonna add more but i needed to cut it off at this 😭😭😭😭

[kayewrite]

At the same time, I wanna hug you

(...I wanna wrap my hands around your neck)

seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count: 10.7k (long but still not enough)

summary; if you have teleportation powers you would bring seungmin in the middle of ocean and dump him there. that's how much you hated him. but wait.. why he was suddenly cool?

an: you dont know how much i went crazy seeing seungmin in uniform! like babe! why are my classmate not like him? and.. this was a birthday present cause this man just turn half 50 minus 1!! anyways enjoy reading

Kim Seungmin.

You hated that very name.

You hated his existence.

You hated his smirk.

You hated that he breathes.

You hated how he never failed to make your blood boil.

Like now.

You were practically crawling into the classroom, late again, knowing full well the teacher wasn’t going to let it slide this time. Slowly and quietly, you slipped through the back door, hoping to go unnoticed, but your hopes were dashed when Kim Seungmin turned in his seat and caught your eye. His face slowly morphed into that all-too-familiar smirk.

You already knew your fate.

"Ma'am, someone’s late again."

You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to punch him as the teacher ordered you to stand and endure a scolding. You stood there, bowing your head like a guilty child while Seungmin chuckled at your misery.

You hated him. You hated him so much you wished for teleportation powers—just so you could dump him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and teleport back home.

The worst part? You were seatmates. In the one subject that made you contemplate dropping the class every week just to escape him. But no, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You’d endure, just so he wouldn’t win.

"Why were you late again?" he leaned over, asking in the most casual, condescending way possible.

“None of your business,” you rolled your eyes and shifted your chair further away from him.

“Actually, it is my business.” He smirked again, lifting the attendance sheet. “I’m in charge of marking who’s here today, and guess what? I don’t see your name yet. Got a good excuse for me?”

Damn.

You glared at him, wishing your stare could send him straight to the hospital. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I love you too,” he teased, laughing at your frustration.

--

You were minding your own business, erasing the board, when out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit you square on the head. Annoyed, you turned sharply, searching for the culprit. Your eyes quickly landed on Kim Seungmin, who very obviously averted his gaze and started whistling—like that wasn’t the biggest giveaway ever.

Glaring at him, you felt your temper rise. Without thinking twice, you grabbed the nearest weapon of choice—the chalkboard eraser—and hurled it with full force.

"Hey—!" Seungmin barely had time to react, his hands flying up to shield himself. The eraser still hit him, sending a cloud of chalk dust everywhere.

Minutes later, there he was, sitting in the clinic, sulking like he’d been gravely injured. You stood over him, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous situation.

“You’re such a kid,” you teased, watching as he winced dramatically. “Crying over a tiny little scratch.”

He glared at you, clutching his arm like he’d survived a battle. “Tiny? You nearly broke my arm!”

You smirked, “If I wanted to break your arm, Seungmin, I wouldn’t have used an eraser.”

You and Seungmin fought like kids, constantly bickering and annoying each other to the point where even your classmates didn’t bother stepping in anymore. They’d seen you two nearly throw punches at each other too many times to care.

One day in the cafeteria, you were finally enjoying a moment of peace, savoring your lunch, when Seungmin suddenly plopped down in front of you. He smiled, but there was something odd about it. Well, Seungmin was always odd, but this felt extra weird. He wasn’t even touching his food; he just sat there, staring at you.

"What are you looking at, ugly?" you asked, scowling.

He leaned back casually. "My friends are coming, and we're sitting at this table. It’s up to you if you wanna leave or not."

You blinked, taken aback. "What?! I got here first!"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I don’t care."

Before you could argue further, the cafeteria exploded with noise. His friends had arrived—there was no mistaking it. They were loud, famous, and had an almost cult-like following at school. You could practically hear the high-pitched squeals from the “fandom” as they entered. Without even turning around, you knew it was them.

Your frustration mounted as they surrounded the table, chattering loudly. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, for that matter. Sitting there, sandwiched between Seungmin and his friends, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.

Hyunjin—yes, that Hyunjin—suddenly leaned over, flashing a bright smile. "Hey, what’s your name?"

You nearly choked on your food. Of course, the universe had to pick this moment to be cruel. Before you could respond, Seungmin cut in with a smug grin.

"She’s no one. Don’t mind her," he said, not even sparing you a glance.

Your face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair. "I’ve suddenly lost my appetite," you muttered awkwardly before storming off, desperately trying to escape the humiliation.

Why does this always happen to me? you groaned internally. I hate Seungmin. And I hate myself for embarrassing myself in front of my crush… Hyunjin.

If I see that KIM SEUNGMIN later, I’m going to kill him.

Later in class, your chance for revenge came. Seungmin was called on for an oral recitation, and—poetic justice—he stood there, stuttering and completely clueless. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as he floundered, finally getting a taste of the embarrassment he loved dishing out.

Justice had never tasted so sweet.

---

"I hope lightning strikes him," you muttered, glaring at Seungmin from a distance as you hugged yourself, shivering from the cold. You were stuck in a waiting shed, the afternoon bringing with it a torrential downpour that looked like the start of a typhoon. The weather had been perfect this morning—sunny, with not a cloud in sight. You'd made the mistake of leaving your umbrella at home, thinking it would only weigh down your bag. Now, you regretted every bit of that decision.

Across the street, Seungmin stood dry under his big, obnoxiously bright umbrella, almost laughing as he caught sight of you. His smug grin was practically glowing, and as if to rub salt in the wound, he waved at you.

You flipped him the finger.

‘When will his time come?’ you wondered bitterly. Why am I always the one who ends up miserable?

The shed's roof was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain out. Water dripped from all angles, splashing around you and soaking your clothes. You glanced up at the leaky ceiling and groaned. When will this stop? you thought—both about the rain and Seungmin.

If the two of you were friends, and if he weren’t the spawn of Lucifer himself, you might’ve swallowed your pride and asked to share his umbrella. Your house was literally just a block away. But no! You would not—under any circumstances—lower yourself to envy his dry, smug self.

You would never give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant sitting here the whole night, soaked and miserable.

Seungmin started walking toward you, his big umbrella swaying with each step. He stopped in front of you with the most annoyingly sarcastic smile.

"You wanna share?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes. "No thanks."

"You sure? The news said the rain’s stopping… tomorrow."

"Even if it never stops for a whole week, Kim Seungmin, I would never!" you snapped, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your misery. "You sure? Last chance."

"Yes!" you practically shouted, arms crossed in defiance.

"Okay." He shrugged, stepping back. "One word is enough for me."

And with that, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving you alone in the rain.

"I won’t regret it!" you yelled after him, though your voice sounded far less confident than before.

Ten minutes later, you were drenched and shivering, cursing under your breath. Regret started to creep in. You glanced down the road—completely empty. Not a single taxi in sight.

"Where are all the taxis when I need them?" you groaned, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.

And so, your day ended just as it began: with Seungmin somehow managing to ruin it.

--

It was Friday, and your first class of the day happened to be the one where your seatmate was none other than him.

Determined not to be late, you arrived twenty minutes early. The classroom was nearly empty, with only a handful of students scattered around. Feeling groggy, you slumped over your desk, letting the quiet atmosphere lull you into a light nap.

Of course, peace never lasted long when Seungmin was involved.

A sharp knock on your desk pulled you from the brink of sleep. You cracked one eye open to see Seungmin settling into the seat beside you, a smug grin already plastered on his face.

"Oh, you’re early today. Were you looking forward to sitting next to me?" he teased, leaning back comfortably as if he hadn't just ruined your peaceful moment.

"It’s still early, Kim Seungmin," you muttered, closing your eyes again. Not today, you thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin your morning. Not this early.

He glanced at his watch with a chuckle. "Well, it’s 10 a.m., and that’s not exactly early, is it?"

"Seungmin, if you’re bored and looking to annoy someone, talk to my hand." Without even opening your eyes, you lazily raised your hand in his direction, palm out.

Just then, Yuna, who sat in front of you, arrived. She took one look at the two of you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Why are you guys always fighting the moment you see each other?"

You opened one eye, giving her a pleading look. "Can you please let him annoy you instead?"

Yuna just laughed. "Oh, Seungmin wouldn’t annoy anyone else but you." She gave you a knowing smile. "He likes you."

Your eyes shot open at her words, and you squinted at Seungmin, who was now smirking as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. "Yeah, likes to annoy me," you huffed, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

Seungmin shrugged, leaning in a little closer just to provoke you. "Well, yeah, I like it sooo much," he laughed, clearly amused by your reaction.

Yuna, now used to your bickering, just shrugged and turned her attention to the front of the classroom, leaving you to deal with him.

You let out a sigh, hoping that Seungmin would leave you alone for at least a minute. "Is there any chance you’ll be quiet today?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm, nope."

You groaned, dropping your head back onto your desk. "Why do you even sit next to me?"

"Fate," he said casually, glancing over as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

You shot him a disbelieving look. "What?"

"It’s fate," he repeated with a smirk. "Out of all the seats in this entire classroom, I ended up next to you. Don’t you think that means something?"

"Yeah, it means I’m cursed."

He laughed, the sound annoyingly cheerful, and leaned in closer. "Maybe, or maybe you’re just lucky to have me next to you."

"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use."

Before he could respond, the classroom started filling up, and the teacher finally arrived. You sent a silent prayer of thanks, hoping class would be a break from Seungmin’s endless teasing.

“…you will do this assignment by pairs. To speed things up, partner with your seatmate.”

It was nothing new to be stuck with your enemy, but when you realized that the activity involved a short roleplay drama, you felt a surge of panic. Acting alongside him was nowhere on your bucket list of things to do—if you even had a bucket list.

“Maam, can I exchange my partner?” you raised your hand, desperation evident in your voice.

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Seungmin clutched his chest dramatically, feigning offense.

“What’s wrong with your partner?” the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sometimes you wondered why everyone seemed to love this annoying dog sitting next to you.

With no choice left, you begrudgingly held the script with a scowl. When would you ever have a peaceful day in class? Why did you have to pretend to be in love with this guy?

“Come on, read your line!” Seungmin demanded, his annoyance bubbling over.

Of all the choices in your teacher's fishbowl, you’d drawn the romantic scene everyone praying not to get. You would have preferred a horror script over this.

“I don’t want to!” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Well, you have to! It’s your fault for picking it!” he shot back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“I told you to pick it!” you replied, frustration mounting.

“And then I’d be the one to blame? We don’t have a choice but to do well.” He leaned back, crossing his arms smugly.

“Ugh! I hate you so much!” you exclaimed, slumping back in your seat.

“Well, you have to love me now.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying your misery.

“What did I do in my past life to deserve this?” You groaned, reading the lines again.

“Probably killed someone,” he quipped, shooting you a knowing look.

You glared at him, and he immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing.

“Oh, apologies. Let’s practice! You don’t have a choice; it’s either fail or just accept it.”

“I hate you.”

“I accept it, Juliet.” He grinned, clearly relishing your frustration.

Thankfully, the teacher had given you a week to prepare, which meant you never took practicing seriously after that.

“We’ll practice tomorrow,” Seungmin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I have something to do tomorrow,” you said nonchalantly, hoping to deter him.

“I have things too, but I want good grades, so you have to come.” He started packing his things away.

“Hey, Seungmin!” You both turned at the sound of his friend’s voice. It was Hyunjin, accompanied by Felix and Jisung. You straightened up, suddenly conscious of your appearance.

“Let’s go somewhere!” Jisung draped an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.

“I have important things to do,” Seungmin replied, and Jisung pouted in response.

“Oh, it was you in the cafeteria the other day,” Hyunjin said, looking right at you. It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.

“Um…” Your voice faltered. “Yes?”

Hyunjin smiled at you, and you felt your heart race.

“Guys, wait for me outside. You just sneaked into my classroom,” Seungmin laughed, and his friends complied, heading for the door.

You were still catching your breath from the interaction when Seungmin turned back, grinning at you. “So, Hyunjin is your crush?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Oh no! Seungmin had caught on!

“Of course, I’m not!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Why are you saying ‘I’m not’ in such an awkward way?” He laughed, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Then it is true!”

“Please don’t tell him!” You pleaded, realizing you were losing this battle.

“Of course I won’t…” He smiled coyly, “…I won’t do what you ask.” Then, with a laugh, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out the door.

“Oh, damn…” You froze in your seat, panic setting in.

“See you at practice tomorrow!” Seungmin waved annoyingly from the doorway, clearly aware that you had no choice but to comply.

As the door swung shut behind him, you sank back into your chair, contemplating your fate. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.

--

You arrived at his house and rang the doorbell repeatedly, knowing he would probably just hear it and take his sweet time.

“You’re late,” he said with a smug smile when he finally opened the gate.

“I’m not,” you insisted, holding your wrist up to show him your watch, the sleek silver face gleaming in the sunlight.

“You’re late by 58 seconds,” he replied, crossing his arms as if he were judging your punctuality.

“What?! It’s not my fault you opened your gate late!” You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

He chuckled at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Come in.”

“Not like I have a choice,” you muttered, stepping inside.

It was your first time in his house, and you weren’t surprised by how nice it was. The exterior was already immaculate, and the inside was just as polished—walls adorned with family photos and art that hinted at a cozy atmosphere. But you would never admit that to him.

“My parents aren’t home; they have work,” he said, glancing around the living room as if to check for any potential chaos.

“No one asked,” you shot back, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“Just wanted to let you know in case you try to kill me; there’s a CCTV camera around,” he said, half-serious.

“Oh, great. Just what I need,” you replied dryly, shaking your head.

He headed to the kitchen, presumably to get something to drink, giving you a moment to explore. You took the chance to glance at the pictures displayed throughout the room. One photo caught your eye—him as a child, beaming with joy as he played in a park.

When he returned, you pointed to the picture near the TV. “Is that you?”

“Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

You squinted at the picture, then turned to him, suddenly serious. “I mean… will there ever be a time for us to stop bickering, even just for a bit? I'm trying to start a normal conversation here”

“Will there be?” he countered, sitting beside you with a teasing grin, his body relaxed as he leaned back.

“Yeah, right. Never,” you replied, smirking despite yourself.

He handed you the printed script he’d prepared, the edges slightly crinkled. “Why are we putting so much effort into this? It’s just reading the script, not really acting it out.”

“Because I have a goal grade, unlike you,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Have you forgotten I’m an achiever too?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.

When would this bickering ever end?

“Hyunjin is coming,” he announced suddenly, the air in the room shifting.

“No one asked--” You paused, then asked, “Wait what?!”

“So you should behave if you don’t want to scare him off,” he added, the grin still plastered on his face.

“Seungmin, why would you do that?!” You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“Because… I can?” He laughed, shielding himself playfully. “I mean, what’s wrong with inviting a friend? He's good at acting he can help”

“I hate you so much,” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your tone.

Hyunjin had been your crush for as long as you could remember, and the thought of him being in the same space as you made your stomach flutter with nerves. He was perfect in every way—charismatic, charming, and completely out of your league.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Seungmin teased, leaning closer with that infuriating grin. “Oh, I forgot—you like him, right?”

You responded by giving him another light shove, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was always like this between you two—endless banter, lighthearted teasing, but the presence of Hyunjin added a layer of awkwardness you couldn’t quite shake.

You both settled onto the couch, the printed script between you. Seungmin glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Okay, let’s get this over with. You read Juliet’s lines, and I’ll read Romeo’s,” he said, smirking.

“Fine, but don’t mess it up,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

You started reading through the script, your voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Wow, so poetic. Just make sure you don’t faint from all that romance.”

You shot him a glare. “Shut up, Romeo.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced. Hyunjin was here.

“See? You should behave,” Seungmin teased, nudging your shoulder.

You threw him a playful glare, then he rushed to open the door. There stood Hyunjin, looking effortlessly cool, his smile warm as he greeted you both. “Hey! Ready to practice?”

“Uh, yeah! Come in!” you said, trying to keep your cool but feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.

Seungmin sauntered over, clearly relishing the moment. “Hyunjin! Glad you could join us! We were just getting to the juicy parts.”

You shot him a warning look, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. Hyunjin, however, seemed unfazed. “Nice! I can help you both with the romantic scenes if you want.”

You nodded eagerly. “That would be great! I need help with… you know, acting like I’m in love.” You winced at how obvious that sounded.

Hyunjin grinned, moving to sit across from you. “Alright, let’s try a scene. Here’s the famous balcony part. Juliet says, ‘O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.’”

You felt your heart flutter. “I’ll try,” you said, taking a deep breath. “O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again!”

Hyunjin smiled, then gestured for you to continue. “And then Romeo responds with, ‘I would not for the world they saw thee here.’”

Seungmin picked up the line, and you both began to read, the atmosphere shifting as you focused on the scene. You felt a playful energy in the air, the tension of performing lifting your spirits.

“‘I would not for the world they saw thee here,’” Seungmin said, his voice low and earnest.

You replied, “Then there’s no need to be ashamed,” trying to put as much emotion into it as possible.

Hyunjin clapped after your line. “That was great! You both looked really good together!”

You and Seungmin exchanged a quick look. “No!” you both said in unison.

Hyunjin chuckled, clearly entertained by your synchronized denial. “Really, it’s just acting! But seriously, you guys have good chemistry.”

“Thanks!” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.

“Alright, let’s keep practicing!” Hyunjin suggested, eager to dive back into the script.

You focused on the lines, the playful banter keeping the atmosphere light. As you practiced, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, the camaraderie making the task feel less like a chore and more like fun.

With Hyunjin guiding you, you felt more confident as you delivered your lines, ready to tackle the performance together.

--

The days passed in a blur as you and Seungmin practiced again at his house. You settled into a routine, the playful banter punctuating your rehearsals, and surprisingly, you started to enjoy the time spent together.

Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. As you stood in front of the class, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. When it was your turn to deliver your lines, you poured your heart into the performance, channeling every emotion.

To your surprise, Yuna leaned over after the presentation and whispered, “It wasn’t like you were entering each other’s nerves at all!” Her compliment made you beam with pride.

Seungmin, too, impressed you with his serious demeanor. For once, he seemed genuinely focused, and seeing him so dedicated made you realize how much he cared about doing well. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for both of you.

After the applause died down, your teacher announced, “I’m pleased to inform you all that I have chosen actors for the upcoming school play, and I choose…” She paused dramatically, glancing between you and Seungmin, “…you two!”

A wave of excitement surged through you, quickly followed by a burst of playful competitiveness. “See? You should thank me for picking a role that suits us both,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m grateful, alright. I forgot for a moment how you despise your pick. In fact, I’m so happy I’m going to treat you to cake and coffee.”

“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically, unable to hide your grin. “I deserve a treat after all that hard work!”

“Sure, but only because I can’t let my scene partner go hungry,” he said, winking.

As you both headed out, the bickering continued, light-hearted and familiar, but beneath it was a shared joy that made the moment all the more special. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this experience was bringing you closer, even if you would never admit it.

At the café, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the rich aroma of coffee. You and Seungmin settled into a cozy corner, the tension from earlier melted away as you both began to chat more easily.

“So, do you actually love acting?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve always idolized Emma Watson. I mean, come on, I look just like her!” You struck a dramatic pose, fluttering your eyelashes.

Seungmin looked at you, clearly unconvinced, with a “Are you kidding me?” expression. You burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the café.

“Okay, maybe not exactly like her,” you admitted, trying to catch your breath. “But a girl can dream, right?”

“Sure, if dreaming means torturing the rest of us,” he shot back with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m planning to major in acting when I get to college. It’s my dream!”

“Nice! I like acting too, but I’m thinking about majoring in music,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Wait, you? You know how to sing?” You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your skepticism.

“Wanna hear?” he challenged, a playful glint in his eye.

“Please no!” you teased, dramatically placing your hand on your heart. “I’d rather sleep forever than listen to your singing.”

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean! I think it would be the opposite”

“Mean? I’m just saving you from embarrassment,” you shot back with a grin. “You should thank me!”

"you'll regret what you're saying when I become famous."

As you exchanged playful banter, you realized that this was your way of connecting. The teasing and light insults had become second nature, and somehow, the hurtful words didn’t sting anymore. Instead, they felt like an essential part of your friendship, a comfortable rhythm that made you both laugh.

“Seriously though,” you said, softening a bit, “I think it’s awesome that you’re into music. We’ll be the dynamic duo of arts!”

“Absolutely! Just don’t expect me to duet with you anytime soon,” he joked, raising his cup in a mock toast.

“Deal!” you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.

--

As the practice for the play approached, your schedule became packed, leaving little time for anything else. Excitement bubbled inside you, especially since Hyunjin, a year ahead of you, was also in the cast. You could hardly wait for the next rehearsal.

One day, while waiting for practice to start, you found yourself lost in thought, staring at Hyunjin as he chatted with some friends. Seungmin, ever the observant one, caught you in the act.

“You look like a lovesick puppy,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.

You quickly snapped out of your daydream, narrowing your eyes at him. “Shut up! I’m not!” You playfully punched his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.

“Uh-huh, sure,” he laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“You’re just jealous that I’m not staring at you like that!”

As partners playing lovers in the play, you often imagined being paired with Hyunjin. But the teacher had chosen Seungmin, and surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. You’d gotten used to the banter, and the awkwardness faded as practice continued.

Days passed, filled with rehearsals that drew you closer to Seungmin. The bickering remained, a constant source of amusement.

During one practice, while the two of you were warming up, Seungmin leaned over to Hyunjin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hyunjin, have you already eaten? This monkey here asks,” he said, pointing at you as if you were some sort of pet.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “I am! Thank you for asking!” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, and she also said you were handsome,” Seungmin added, clearly enjoying the moment.

You felt your cheeks flush, and in a mock fit of outrage, you dashed toward him. “Seungmin!” you yelled, but he was quicker. He took off running, his laughter echoing through the practice room.

When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a playful hug, making him squirm. “You’re such a tormentor!” you laughed, shaking him lightly.

From across the room, Hyunjin watched the whole scene unfold, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure they hate each other?” asked the director, who was shaking his head in disbelief.

Hyunjin just nodded, clearly entertained. “Definitely yes!” he replied, chuckling at your playful dynamic.

As you and Seungmin continued to tease each other, you realized that despite the playful bickering, there was an undeniable comfort between you—something that made every rehearsal just a little bit brighter.

---

The rain poured down in relentless sheets, and there you were, standing under a shed, glaring at the gray sky as if it were personally responsible for your soaked shoes. You had forgotten your umbrella—again.

As you waited, shivering slightly from the cold, you spotted Seungmin in the distance, standing confidently under a bright yellow umbrella. He was teasingly waving it over his head, a smirk plastered on his face as he called out, “Looks like someone forgot their umbrella again!”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a finger. “Very funny, Seungmin!”

He sauntered over, his grin widening with each step. "You wanna share?"

You rolled your eyes. "No thanks." you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Okay, then. One word is enough for me.” He turned to leave, an exaggerated pout on his lips.

You hesitated for a moment, watching him walk away. “Wait!” you called out, and he turned back, an annoying smile in his lips. “Fine! We can share!”

Seungmin’s face broke into a triumphant grin as he rushed back to your side, positioning the umbrella over both of you. As you walked together, the atmosphere shifted from frustration to lightheartedness, laughter spilling out between the two of you.

“My shoulder is now wet,” Seungmin complained, feigning annoyance as he brushed water off his shirt.

“Is it my fault that you work out so much? Your shoulders are just too broad!” you shot back, unable to suppress a grin.

“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.

“Ugh, it wasn’t a compliment!” you retorted, trying to keep a straight face.

“Then I’ll just have to embrace this wetness!” he said cheerfully, adjusting the umbrella with exaggerated flair. Before you knew it, he leaned closer, and water dripped off his shoulder, splashing onto you.

You burst into laughter, shoving him playfully. “You idiot!”

Seungmin laughed too, chasing after you as you dashed away, your heart racing with excitement. The rain seemed to fade into the background, the only sound being your giggles and the splatter of water against the pavement.

“You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled, laughter echoing through the downpour.

Just as you turned to look back, he splashed a wave of water right at you, soaking you completely. You retaliated, grabbing a handful of rainwater and splashing it back at him.

The playful battle raged on, and soon both of you were drenched, shivering yet exhilarated.

---

It was two weeks before the big play, and you were laser-focused on perfecting every detail. The pressure was on, and you found yourself spending more time practicing than ever. You wanted everything to be perfect, especially with the role you were playing. Seungmin, of course, was your partner in most scenes, so you had to rehearse together.

But as you delivered your lines, standing face-to-face with Seungmin, it became harder and harder to stay serious. Seungmin kept pulling funny faces behind his lines, causing you to break character and burst into laughter.

“Direct, please, punch him or something!” you whined dramatically, throwing your hands up. “He won’t stop!”

The director, seeing your exaggerated reaction, just chuckled. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast erupted in laughter.

"I’m serious now! I promise!" Seungmin said, shrugging off his antics.

You tried to continue, but the minute you looked at his serious face, you couldn’t hold back your laughter again. His deadpan expression was just too much.

“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping away a tear from laughing too hard. “Let’s take five. I need to compose myself.”

You sat down in the corner, still laughing. Seungmin joined you, shaking his head with a grin.

“Why are you always like this?” you asked, playfully slapping his arm. “We’re supposed to be professional!”

“Hey! I’m doing great! You’re the one laughing!” he protested with a smirk.

You couldn't deny it—something had shifted between you and Seungmin lately. There was this playful, easygoing dynamic now, and to your surprise, you liked it. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but the tension between the two of you had somehow dissolved, leaving behind a strange sort of camaraderie. And it felt... right.

---

Late again. You were quietly crawling your way toward your seat, praying that Seungmin wouldn’t notice. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be too preoccupied to see you sneaking in. But no such luck. Just as you thought you were in the clear, you saw Seungmin glancing in your direction, that infamous smirk already forming on his face. You knew that look all too well—he was up to something.

Desperate, you shot him a pleading look, mouthing a dramatic “Nooo,” and shaking your head in an exaggerated fashion. But the smirk only widened as he raised his hand.

“Ma'am!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable scolding. This is it, you thought. I’m done.

But instead, Seungmin’s voice rang out casually, “I forgot to give you the assignments I collected from the class.”

Your eyes flew open in shock. What?

“Oh right! Thank you, Seungmin, for the reminder.” The teacher smiled at him, clearly appreciating the help.

Seungmin stood up, cool as ever, handing over the pile of papers. He sat back down, a faint smirk still on his lips as if nothing unusual had happened.

You slid into your seat cautiously, your heart still racing. You glanced over at Seungmin, who met your gaze with a quick wink before turning back to his notebook. That was... new, you thought, utterly confused.

--

Practice resumed as usual, and you started to get into the flow of things. You liked rehearsing for the play more than you thought you would, especially with the creative freedom you were given. The only downside? Seungmin never missed an opportunity to get under your skin.

As you entered the practice room, sporting your freshly cut hair, Seungmin immediately took notice.

He eyed you up and down, a teasing grin already forming on his lips. “You know,” he began, casually leaning back in his chair, “short hair doesn’t really suit you.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “What are you talking about? I look pretty in it,” you shot back confidently, placing your hands on your hips.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, the playful grin still firmly in place. “Pretty? More like you look like a monkey who tried to give itself a haircut.”

“Excuse me?” You gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I do not look like a monkey.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin shrugged, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. He leaned closer, dropping his voice dramatically. “But just so you know, if we ever put you in a zoo, you’d fit right in.”

You gasped again, this time more dramatically, then pointed at him with a mock serious expression. “You’re just jealous because I’m out here looking cute and you can’t handle it.”

“Cute?” Seungmin laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever, I know the truth. You’re just afraid to admit that I’m rocking this look,” you teased back, refusing to back down.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, monkey,” he said, chuckling softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.

--

Another day in class, you were erasing the board when something hit the back of your head. Startled, you spun around, spotting Seungmin sitting there, whistling innocently. It was the most obvious thing ever—he didn’t even try to hide it.

You glared at him, trying to keep your cool. ‘Let it go’, you thought. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction��. But then, another paper ball hit you.

"Seriously?" you muttered under your breath, turning to give him a sharp look.

This time, Seungmin didn’t bother pretending. He smiled and pointed to the paper ball on the floor. “Read it,” he said, nodding toward the crumpled note.

You raised your hand, ready to throw the eraser at him with full force.

“Wait!” Seungmin said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just read it, will you?”

With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the paper, unfolding it. Written in his messy handwriting were the words: “Let’s eat. My treat.”

Before you could react, Jisung, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, burst into laughter. “What kind of lame drama am I witnessing?” he cackled.

You whipped around and threw the eraser at him instead, hitting him square in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, Jisung!”

“Hey! I’m just saying!” Jisung grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos.

Later that afternoon, you and Seungmin found yourselves at a seafood restaurant. Well, it was supposed to be Seungmin’s treat, but somehow the two of you ended up bickering over who would pay. Cause you wanna pay too.

“Let’s settle this the mature way—rock, paper, scissors,” Seungmin proposed, holding out his fist.

“Fine,” you agreed, thinking you had a good chance.

You both threw out your hands, and you won.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, triumph coursing through you for about five seconds. But then Seungmin began to order.

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”

You frowned, confusion creeping in as the waiter approached. Seungmin rattled off an absurd number of dishes—enough to feed an entire village.

“Seungmin,” you hissed, eyes wide in disbelief, “do you really need to order enough food for 30 people?”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “You said it was your treat. I’m just taking full advantage.”

You pouted, crossing your arms defiantly. “This isn’t fair. You’re evil.”

“Evil? No way,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer the term ‘strategically gifted.’”

As the waiter left with the long list of orders, you grumbled, “You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”

In the end, Seungmin ended up paying for most of it, but you insisted on contributing, stubbornly pushing a few bills his way. He didn’t argue too much, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“Of course! If I’m going to be broke, I might as well be happy about it,” you retorted, a grin spreading across your face.

Seungmin laughed, clearly entertained by your determination. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just let you win without a fight.”

“Deal! But only if you promise not to order enough food for a small army,” you teased, raising your glass in a mock toast.

“Challenge accepted,” he replied, clinking his glass against yours, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all.

--

Another rehearsal, and you were sitting on the sidelines, legs crossed as you watched your classmates perform. You had just finished your scene and were still buzzing from the energy of it all. The lights cast a warm glow on the stage, and you found yourself quietly admiring the atmosphere, the stars of the production shining brightly in your eyes.

Suddenly, the director's voice broke through your thoughts. “Seungmin, can you step in as the main character for a bit? Our lead’s absent today.”

“Sure,” Seungmin replied, standing up with an easy confidence. He made his way to the center of the stage, and you prepared for him to be awkward or hesitant. Instead, he surprised you.

As he took his place, he transformed. His movements were smooth and assured, his voice resonating with sincerity. You couldn’t help but lean forward, captivated. He moved across the stage effortlessly, delivering his lines with an authenticity that made you forget you were watching your friend.

Wow, he was really talented.

You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thought away. No way could you think Seungmin was handsome. That was just absurd.

Then came a scene where he had to hug the female lead. As he pulled her into a gentle embrace, your heart gave a small, inexplicable flutter. The warmth of his presence seemed to radiate even from where you sat, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.

You tried to shrug it off, focusing on the performance, but the feeling lingered, swirling with an odd mix of admiration and something else entirely. Watching him, you realized you were seeing a different side of Seungmin—one that was undeniably charismatic and captivating.

The rehearsal continued, but you found it harder to concentrate, your thoughts drifting back to the way he had held her, how effortlessly he embodied the character. What was happening to you? You glanced away, trying to regain your composure, but the strange flutter remained, echoing in your mind long after the scene ended.

You were still lost in thought about the rehearsal when Hyunjin sat down beside you. “You look really pretty with your hair like that,” he commented with a smile.

You blushed at the compliment, glancing down. “Thanks! Seungmin said it doesn’t suit me.”

Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Seungmin? He’s just teasing you. That’s his way of telling you he likes it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“Definitely,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk. “He wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t like it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He always tease me.”

Hyunjin leaned back, still smiling. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“We’re neighbors,” you explained. “Since elementary school. We were always competing—who could get the best grades, who could finish their homework first. It’s been like that forever.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Do you hate him?”

You laughed, thinking for a moment. “If I could push him off a cliff, I probably would.”

Hyunjin grinned. “Would you really, though?”

You hesitated, suddenly unsure. “...yes,” you admitted, half-joking.

Hyunjin chuckled, clearly sensing something. “Well, I hope I don’t hear about you two pushing each other off cliffs anytime soon.”

You shrugged with a playful smile. “No promises.”

--

Later, you were eating peacefully in the cafeteria, minding your own business, when Seungmin plopped his tray down across from you. He sat down without a word, digging into his food.

You raised an eyebrow, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess... your friends are coming?”

Seungmin glanced at you lazily, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “No, they don’t wanna see you.”

You pouted, pretending to be offended. “I miss Hyunjin.”

“Then ask him out,” Seungmin replied lazily, taking a bite of his bread.

You paused mid-bite, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “You think I have a chance with him?”

Seungmin smirked, shaking his head. “No, he hates monkeys like you who throw erasers at people.”

You gasped, glaring at him. “I do not look like a monkey!”

“Sure, whatever helps you,” Seungmin teased, his grin widening. “And for the record, Hyunjin’s probably just being nice.”

You frowned, “He said I was pretty with my new haircut.”

Seungmin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how much he lies? He probably tells that to everyone.”

You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you decided to change tactics. “Help me get him to go out with me, then.”

Seungmin snorted. “Do it on your own. You’re big enough for that.”

You groaned dramatically, leaning across the table toward him. “If you help me, I’ll buy you something. Anything you want.”

Seungmin looked at you, considering it for a moment before shrugging. “Buy me a house."

You rolled your eyes, giving him a deadpan stare. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying how easily you gave up. “Good luck, Juliet.”

--

It was Friday again, and somehow, you found yourself seated next to Seungmin—again. This time, however, you arrived early, a full thirty minutes ahead of your usual time. Feeling tired, you laid your head on the desk, hoping to catch a quick nap.

Just as you were dozing off, you felt a sharp knock on the desk, startling you awake. You looked up to see Seungmin grinning down at you, clearly enjoying your misery.

“Missing me that much, huh?” he teased. “You’re thirty minutes earlier than usual.”

You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “We basically see each other every day. I’m already sick of it,” you replied with a shrug.

Seungmin chuckled, settling into his seat beside you. “You’ll survive. Anyway, I need to copy your assignment.”

You blinked, sitting up straight. “We had an assignment?”

“Seriously?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. He reached into his bag and pulled out his own paper, handing it to you. “Here, just copy mine before Ma’am shows up.”

You took the paper from him, still confused. “Wait, I thought you said you didn’t do the assignment either?”

“I forgot that I had,” Seungmin said casually, smirking. “Now hurry up before it’s too late.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your pen and started copying the assignment, scribbling quickly while glancing at the door every few seconds to make sure the teacher wasn’t close. As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the shift between you and Seungmin. There was a time when you would’ve refused to help him—or worse, argued with him endlessly. But now? It felt... different. There was a weird sense of comfort in these small moments.

"What now? does our fighting over who finish assignments first done?" you laugh,

"Then give me back my paper. I've changed my mind."

You didn’t hate it. In fact, you kind of liked it.

--

 Seungmin was sipping on his water bottle backstage when Hyunjin approached him, all casual as ever.

“Seungmin,” Hyunjin started, leaning against the wall beside him. “Do you like her?”

Seungmin paused mid-sip, glancing sideways at Hyunjin with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin gave him a knowing look. “I’ve known you for years, dude. I know when you like someone.”

Seungmin snorted, trying to brush it off. “Why would that matter to you?”

“Well,” Hyunjin said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “if I asked her out, would you get mad?”

Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked it, his expression turning nonchalant. “Why would I care?”

Hyunjin tilted his head, smirking as if testing Seungmin’s reaction. “Really?”

Seungmin waved his hand dismissively, though his jaw tightened slightly. “What am I, a matchmaker for you two? Why are you even asking for my opinion? I don’t care.”

Hyunjin chuckled and slung an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I needed to know.”

As Hyunjin walked away, Seungmin clenched his water bottle a little too tightly. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the fact that Hyunjin seemed interested in you, or the fact that you two were making him feel like some kind of third wheel. Whatever it was, it was starting to get under his skin.

--

Seungmin was making his way back to the classroom, balancing a small box of milk he’d grabbed for you from the cafeteria. He'd overheard you mention wanting one earlier, so without a second thought, he picked one up, hoping to surprise you.

As he neared the classroom door, he paused when he heard your voice. You were deep in conversation with one of your friends, and for some reason, curiosity got the better of him. He stood just outside, hidden by the doorframe, listening.

"Why do you hate Seungmin so much, anyway?" your friend asked.

Seungmin’s ears perked up at the question, his grip tightening around the milk carton. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing there, but he couldn’t move. He just waited.

You sighed before answering, "He's so annoying. Always teasing me, always acting like he’s better than me. He’s infuriating."

Each word hit him harder than he expected, like tiny jabs that made his heart sink deeper and deeper. He already knows this what you felt for him but he doesn't know why it still hurts. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming out a little shallower as he stayed rooted to the spot.

But then you added something else, something he missed. A quieter tone followed the harshness of your earlier words. It was softer, almost like you were reflecting on something.

"Lately though... I don’t know. I guess I’ve started to see that maybe he’s not that bad."

But Seungmin didn’t hear those words. He had already turned away, stepping back before he could catch the change in your tone. His heart, now heavier, urged him to walk in the opposite direction, so that’s exactly what he did. The milk, once meant to be a small gesture of kindness, now felt pointless in his hand.

PE class rolled around, and with no rehearsal scheduled, you entered the gym, spotting Seungmin as usual. You both ended up being partners again—something that had become routine at this point. There were no protests, no over-the-top objections. Just quiet acceptance.

The first activity was jogging, but you immediately noticed something was off. Normally, Seungmin would be teasing you the whole time, making snarky comments about how slow you were. But today, he was silent.

"One minute," you said, reading his time on the stopwatch. Normally, this would prompt a laugh from him, followed by some sarcastic remark about how you'd be the first one caught in a zombie apocalypse.

But today, he just nodded and moved on to the next activity without a word. Weird.

The next exercise was push-ups. You barely managed four before collapsing, groaning in exhaustion. Seungmin, on the other hand, breezed through twenty without breaking a sweat. You tried to compliment him in a lowkey way, but he didn’t react—just kept going like a machine.

What is up with him?

Then came the sit-ups. You held down Seungmin’s toes, though it didn’t seem like he needed any help. His form was perfect, and he didn’t even look your way. The proximity of the exercise made you search for his eyes, but every time you tried to make eye contact, he avoided looking at you.

When it was your turn, you felt exhausted by your fifth sit-up, and Seungmin held your toes firmly in place. This time, he watched you more intently, though you couldn’t see him since you were focusing on the exercise. Only when you glanced up did he quickly avert his gaze.

After class, you caught him trying to leave and stopped him in his tracks.

“Seungmin, what’s going on with you?” you asked, planting yourself in front of him.

He gave you a blank look. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re acting... weirdly weird today. Did something happen?”

Seungmin sighed, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, brushing past you.

You caught his arm before he could fully walk away. “Hey, you can talk to me. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”

He paused, looking at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying coldly, “Why would I? We’re not friends.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, watching as he walked away, feeling a strange pang in your chest.

Later, you sat next to Hyunjin, watching Seungmin perform his scenes on stage. He still ignored you, going through the motions of his role flawlessly, but there was no denying the distance between you now. The way he looked past you, as if you weren’t there, made you feel... sad.

“What’s up with him?” you muttered to Hyunjin. “He’s been acting strange all day.”

Hyunjin smirked. “He’s probably mad about what I told him.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I told him I like you. And that I was going to ask you out.”

You blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Wait... what?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why else would he be jealous?”

“Jealous?” you repeated, confused. “Why would he be jealous?”

Hyunjin let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you and Seungmin are both idiots, or if you’re just blind.”

“Ouch,” you said, feigning offense, though your mind was spinning. Jealous? Seungmin?

Hyunjin’s laugh faded into a small smile, and after a moment of silence, he sighed. “Wow, my confession really flew under the radar, huh?”

You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. Oh... right. His confession.

You smiled awkwardly. “Wait, was it serious? Or were you just joking?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You think I’m a joker like that puppy?” He nodded toward Seungmin, who was still on stage.

Normally, this would be the moment where you’d blush, stammer, and lose your mind. But something didn’t feel right. There was something nagging at you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I...”

Before you could respond, Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting you off. “Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me yet. I’ll wait until after the play presentation.”

He smiled, and you smiled back, though it felt forced.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just getting my water bottle,” Seungmin’s voice broke the moment as he stepped between you two, grabbing his bottle.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he was gone before you could. You stared after him, feeling more confused than ever.

-

In the past, this type of bickering was normal between you two. You had always gotten on each other's nerves, and usually, you'd be happy to ignore him, savoring the peace and quiet. But this time felt different. Why were you so affected by his silence? Why did it feel like a hollow pit had formed in your chest, waiting for him to fill it? You hated him, didn’t you? You used to hate him—right? But now, all you felt was a growing sense of confusion and frustration, like you were waiting for something that never came.

Seungmin had been avoiding you for three days now, and at first, you brushed it off, assuming he had something on his mind. But as time went on, the weight of his silence pressed harder. It wasn’t just affecting the play—it was affecting you. His avoidance felt more personal than it ever had before, and it gnawed at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

"Seungmin, let's talk." You caught up to him backstage, your voice firmer than usual, trying to mask the vulnerability you were starting to feel.

"Why?" he responded coldly, not even looking in your direction.

You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "What do you mean, 'why'? We obviously need to talk about something."

"I don't want to," he replied like a stubborn child, folding his arms defensively.

You groaned, frustration bubbling inside you. "Stop giving me that bratty attitude, Seungmin. Let's just talk, okay?" Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit door for privacy.

Once you were both outside, you turned to face him, still gripping his wrist. "Are you angry at me?" you asked softly, though the edge of desperation in your voice betrayed you.

Seungmin pulled his hand away from your grasp, shrugging. "We're normally angry at each other," he muttered, staring at the ground as if avoiding your gaze would shield him from the conversation.

You furrowed your brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Seungmin, we both know something has changed between us. We’re… sort of friends now, right? Why are you acting like this?"

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Why? This is normal. We’ve always been like this. Why are you suddenly acting like something's different?"

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard. "So I’m still just an enemy to you?" The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, and you hated yourself for how much it hurt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. "Because for me—" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. "For me, things changed. I’ll be honest with you. I hated you so much before, Seungmin. I mean, if I could’ve thrown you into the fire pit, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat." You laughed bitterly, trying to lighten the mood, but your heart ached as you realized the truth. "But now, I see you as a friend."

Seungmin's breath hitched at your confession, and for a moment, his walls seemed to crack. But then his jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "No."

You stared at him, bewildered. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"

His voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out. "Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just focus on Hyunjin and pretend like I’m not even here?"

"Why would I do that?" you asked, confusion lacing your words.

Seungmin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Because you like him," he bit out. "You like Hyunjin, and you’ve hated me since the day we met."

You stepped closer, lowering your voice, "Seungmin… I told you. We're past that stage of hating each other."

His laugh was hollow, bitter. "You’ve hated me since we were kids. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? But you know what? I preferred it that way. I’d rather you keep hating me than whatever this is."

You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. It hit you hard—the realization that Seungmin had always been more affected by your feelings than you’d thought. And now, he was clinging to the past because it was easier to accept your hatred than deal with the uncertainty of whatever you were becoming now.

"But I don't hate you anymore," you said softly, your voice gentle but firm.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours for the briefest second before he looked away again, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he shook his head, taking a deep breath.

"Then what do you feel now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was a question you hadn’t fully answered yourself. What did you feel? What had changed between you two? The hate had faded long ago, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. But how could you put it into words when you weren’t sure what those feelings even were?

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But I know I don’t want to keep ignoring it. I don’t want to keep pretending like we’re still stuck in the past. I care about you, Seungmin, and I—"

He cut you off, his voice sharp but shaky, "Stop. Don’t say it. Please."

His plea was laced with fear, and you could see it now—the fear of getting hurt, of being vulnerable. Seungmin had always hidden behind his teasing and sharp words, but now, as he stood before you, walls crumbling, you realized just how much he had been protecting himself all along.

"Seungmin..." You took a step closer, your hand hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. "You don’t have to push me away."

He closed his eyes, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away again. But then, he sighed, the weight of his emotions too heavy to bear alone anymore. "You don’t get it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I’m scared. Scared that if you don’t hate me, you’ll realize… I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t know how to handle that."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. The tension, the unspoken words, all of it finally made sense. You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the vulnerability behind them cutting deep.

Seungmin liked you.

And somehow, deep down, you’d known.

-

The day of the play had arrived, and for the first time, a tight knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. You'd performed in front of people before, but this time felt different. This time, you weren’t just performing in front of a crowd—you were performing in front of him.

As you paced backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise, you couldn’t help but glance around anxiously, searching for Seungmin. The others were already in place, getting ready for the opening act. But Seungmin… he was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart raced as minutes ticked by. What if he didn’t show up? What if his feelings, the tension between you, had driven him away? You shook your head, trying to focus, but the anxiety clung to you like a second skin.

The stage manager called for the cast to take their places, and you stepped toward the stage, dread settling deep in your chest. The lights dimmed, the curtains rustled, and the play was about to begin. But Seungmin—where was he?

Just as the opening music started and your heart sank, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned and saw him. Seungmin, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking with yours as he walked into place. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a rush of relief. He had made it.

You took a deep breath, letting his presence calm you, and when the curtains finally rose, you stepped into your role. The lights blinded you for a second, and the sound of the audience rustled in the background, but none of that mattered. Your focus was on one person.

Seungmin.

You went through your lines, heart pounding in your chest. The audience faded away, and it was just the two of you on stage. But when you looked into Seungmin’s eyes, delivering your lines, it felt too real—like every word you spoke wasn’t part of the play but something deeper.

And then came the moment. The pivotal line.

As you reached the climax of your scene, Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze steady and intense. “I love you,” he said, his voice clear and sincere.

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, delivered in that moment, felt electric. It wasn’t just a line; it was a declaration that cut through the scripted lines and went straight to your heart.

Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You weren’t supposed to cry here—not in this scene—but it was impossible to hold back the emotion. The intensity of the moment, standing before him as he revealed his feelings, overwhelmed you.

Seungmin’s gaze softened, and for a second, the audience faded away. It was just you and him, wrapped in a moment that felt like the truth finally breaking through.

You tried to respond, but the weight of his confession hung in the air, filling the space between you. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

The play continued, but all you could think about was Seungmin’s words. He had spoken them as part of the script, but they felt so real, so genuine. Something shifted in the atmosphere between you two—something undeniable.

As the final act came to a close, and you took your bow, the audience erupted in applause. But even then, your eyes were only on Seungmin, wondering if he felt the same shift in the air between you two. Something had changed. Something profound. And while you weren’t sure where it would lead, for now, you were content just to hold on to the moment, letting it linger as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed.

For now, the stage had played its part, but what came next was something only time would tell.

-

a reblog, like, and comment is very much appreciated to keep me going. thanks for reading, love!

sorry for being inactive lately and not responding to any of your messages i appreciate you all love you sm!!

part 2 here!

[venusbyline]

Treatment ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 29, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Spencer Reid x college student!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: praise kink

— summary: Spencer needs to take out the frustrations of his professional life during sex with you, his girlfriend and his favorite student.

— word count: 1.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 29th day, female!reader, girlfriend!reader, professor!Reid, praise kink, aftercare, vaginal sex, rough sex, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, body worship, hair-pulling, butt slapping, biting, teacher-student relationship (NO UNDERAGE), secret relationship, dumbification, squirting, dacryphilia, creampie, cum dripping, subspace, fluffy ending, table sex, rough kissing, soft!Reid, dom!Reid, sub!reader. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Spencer arrived at university stressed after a week solving an important case at the BAU, you knew he would need to take out all his frustration with you on sex. It was no longer news to the two of you how high Spencer's sex drive became after dealing with maniacal Unsubs, especially when he had to put up with so many students who seemed to have a below average IQ inside his classroom.

The opportunity to teach subjects focused on criminology, sociology and psychoanalysis had been incredible at first, but started increasingly unbearable as the final exams weeks approached. He was trying to get his students used to his assessment method little by little, giving them short and quick tests that contained only some topics that would be included in the final exams.

However, with each test he corrected, he cursed a different teenager. Spencer could barely read the answers without wanting to rip his eyes out of their eye sockets or tear his own skin. Maybe most of the students were really stupid and irresponsible, or maybe he was being very demanding due to the stress he was going through with the latest criminal case. After all, he could not judge someone's intelligence as truly inferior just because he had a real genius brain.

When Spencer saw that he would not be able to concentrate on correcting the tests, he huffed and threw randomly the pile of papers on his table, taking out his phone and sending an urgent text to you, his favorite student and secret girlfriend too.

Even though you were busy in the library studying for another professor's classes, you were more than a little eager when you saw the text from Spencer, or rather Doctor Reid, demanding your presence in his office immediately. You knew what was coming as soon as you had caught a glimpse of him walking through campus hallways earlier that day. He was stressed. And if Spencer was stressed, that meant you would suffer the consequences and be very rewarded later.

"T-This fucking good pussy!" Spencer growled, gripping your waist tighter, giving your ass a slap that made you roll your eyes in pleasure as he moved his hips deeper, more brutally, almost as if he wanted to break you into two parts.

You whimpered when the head of his cock almost hit your cervix, making you see stars. "S-Spencie!"

Your trembling moan came along with a sob, your legs shaking as you gripped the edge of his marble table, trying to steady yourself with each thrust, even though your legs were so weak that you were sure all the paperwork would fall to the floor soon. "You're doing so well, darling. Taking my thick cock inside you like a good girl..." He growled, lowering himself until his chest was against your back, biting your shoulder uncovered by the neckline of your dress. "My best student. The only one smart enough to be admitted to this stupid university."

You knew he was overreacting, but that did not stop you from smiling between moans, your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter while he praised you, fingers pressing the soft flesh of your ass and his lips whispering how smart and hot you were. His favorite. You would always be his favorite student.

Spencer pulled you by your hair, until you were standing as he held himself still inside you, grabbing your chin for a sloppy and aggressive kiss. His free hand pulled just one of your legs up onto the table, the new position making him hit deeper inside your tight pussy. "Fuck... You have no idea how much I needed this." Spencer moaned, taking advantage of the fact that you understood the angle he wanted to fuck you at and he held your hips to help you keep it that way. "I love your little pussy crushing me like that. So tight, even when I'm about to fill you with my cum. You want that, darling? Going around campus with my cum running down your thighs? For everyone to know that you're the best student ever?”

You did not answer your boyfriend, as you were too busy feeling your orgasm coming. Spencer's eyes rolled back as your ass began to bounce faster by the second and you started to moan loudly, forcing him to release your chin to cover your mouth. "Shhh, little girl... You don't want people to know that you're getting special treatment from your professor, don't you, darling? You want them to know how much I love fucking your pussy until you're a whining mess?"

You shook your head immediately, muffled sounds escaping when Spencer licked your neck, continuing to whispering and dirty talking to you, the fucking starting to get more intense after you climaxed and your hole started to get creamy due his pre-cum and your juices.

Noticing how your body began to shake more than normal and your walls were spasming, Spencer let go of your hips only to finger your clit, rubbing it so roughly that you screamed into his palm and finally came again, followed by the transparent liquid squirting from your pussy while Spencer continued fucking you. He stimulated your clit until he also was cumming, moaning in an almost guttural way as he watched the scene of you crying out and squirting, feeling you milking his cock until the last drop.

Spencer sighed at the overstimulation, withdrawing himself from you, causing you to groan in pain and melancholy at the sudden emptiness. "It's okay, darling. You were so good, you're always so good to me... my good girl." Spencer whispered, picking you up to lay you down on the table. It was not the most comfortable place possible for the aftercare, but both of you knew it was the most that having sex hidden in your university professor's office could offer you. He stroked your hair, taking a tissue from his briefcase so he could wipe off the remnants of his cum running down your thighs. He gave you a soft smile because you reflexively tried to pull yourself away, your mind still trapped into the subspace. "It's just me, darling. You're okay. I just need to clean you up now. Is that okay, my girl?"

You nodded weakly and also a little confused, low but less scared whimpers coming from your lips. Spencer was careful not to hurt your already so sensitive and sore core. "My beautiful little girl. You're so perfect, darling. I'm so proud of you..." You smiled with your eyes closed, hearing his husky but loving voice.

Spencer took charge of taking care of you during that moment, placing a soft kiss on your temple, putting your panties back on and fixing your dress. Spencer caressed your head, admiring your weak and sleepy form, trying his best to hold back the giggle that wanted to escape as he noticed that the papers containing his students' tests were damp with random drops from your sudden squirt.

He would have to think about some convincing explanation to give to the university president regarding the stains on those papers. However, for now, the only thing Spencer would do was make sure you were physically and emotionally fine again so both of you could return to your proper responsibilities when the next class started.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[ldrfanatic]

Italian Theodore Nott Headcanons

So... by popular request (I think like literally one person commented on a post from ages ago) and also because I'm still working on my most recent part to the '13' Series (linked here) here's some Italian Theo headcanons to keep you sated.

sorry if this is inaccurate it's based off of my own knowledge of italians and what I think Theo would be like

slytherin boys masterlist works

So, unlike most, I don't think that Italian Theo would be a whore. Let me explain:

Sure Italian men like to flirt, (although Theo doesn't), but they do it because it comes so natural to them and because more than anything, they value their partner.

They're well dressed and take pride in their appearance (something Theo does do) but they don't always entertain the people of the heads that they turn

They also have a natural air of confidence that Theo has and doesn't even have to use

However, just because Theo isn't a whore doesn't mean that he doesn't have his own little clique of fangirls.

In general:

As a person, Theo is incredibly quiet. His English is not the best as he grew up in the Italian countryside and spends his breaks there. He spends most of his time observing, and the rest of his time, mentally translating sentences from English to Italian and vice versa (and yes that's exhausting).

He does however take food incredibly seriously (as most Italians do I feel). His favorite kind of pasta is Paccheri and he will die on the hill that the Italians were the first to make Pizza (who else could make bread, sauce, and cheese taste so good?). He was also incredibly shocked when he found out the drinking age in England was 18. Theo had a glass of wine with dinner every night since the age of ten.

Another thing he doesn't quite understand about England is the frequency through which they drink tea throughout the day. At most, he has a cup a day while some of his English friends have four to five cups a day and usually, one cup with every meal.

Theo also had a very strong connection to his mother. Now that she's gone, he spends a lot of time in his head with his memories of her. It's not all that shocking to anyone really that he doesn't quite have the time or the patience for girls.

Platonically:

As a friend, Theo is a little more open but not much. His two closest friends in the group are you and Lorenzo who's also Italian. He'll talk to either of you and open up a little, but only if no one else is around. He's a bit impartial to Mattheo although he does think the boy is a loose cannon and he actually secretly despises Draco and his blood purity nonsense as it reminds him too much of his father (whom he also hates). So yeah, he spends the majority of his time with Lorenzo and Blaise.

In regards to your friendship with Theo, he's a complete gentleman. He never sits too close in fear of startling or offending you. He opens all of the doors the pair of you walk through and carries your books to class when you have the same class.

In fact, despite being significantly more well mannered than any other boy in your year, the only thing that hinted to you that Theo felt anything towards you other than indifference were small smiles and shared secrets.

Romantically:

Before you even became friends you'd caught Theo's eye. The first time he'd noticed you, you were comforting a crying first year muggle-born that Draco had bullied to tears. You spoke so kindly and softly to the boy. Theo knew then that you weren't like everyone else in Hogwarts. Most people were too afraid to stand up to Draco but the next day, you punched him square in the jaw and told him to stop being such a prick.

The first person to find out about Theo's crush on you was Lorenzo of course. He didn't tease him for which Theo was grateful. Now as stated, Theo is an incredibly quiet person so it's not clear to you that Theo has crush on you.

Also, once Theo has decided that he likes you, other girls don't even approach him anymore. Not after the Ravenclaw incident. A Ravenclaw from your guys' year approached him and asked him out. He didn't even acknowledge her. Just stood up and left.

He does however, make an attempt to spend more time with you whenever her can. He sits with you at meals and during lessons, he asks you for help in charms (even though he's already receiving high marks, but you don't know that). He brings you soup when your sick.

The way that you find out Theo has a crush on you is actually really surprising for you.

Lorenzo came running up to you after Potions one day, completely out of breath. "Y/n! Come quick." He didn't give you any room to disagree as he grasped your wrist firmly and began dragging you down the corridor towards the courtyard. When you got out there, your stomach dropped.

For the first time since meeting him, you saw Theo fight. He had Addrian Pucey on the ground and was currently pummeling the poor boy. The scariest part was that he remained completely calm, cold. Mattheo and Draco were standing on the sidelines egging him on while Theo ruthlessly delivered blow after blow in dead silence. He didn't even wince as his knuckles began to split open and bleed.

Blaise was desperately trying to pull Theo away but he wouldn't budge. Finally, you snapped out of your stupor and approached the boy. As he was throwing punches with his right arm, you approached him from the left and placed a hand on his left shoulder apprehensively. "Theo."

At the sound of your voice, Theo stopped immediately. He didn't look at you immediately. Instead, he stood and kicked Adrian who was on the ground rolling in pain. "Stay away from her." The crowd dispersed as the fight ended. When Theo turned to look at you, his eyes were blazing. For the first time since you'd known him, Theo was burning with rage.

"Theo come on." He let you lead him away in complete silence. Worse than what Adrian had said to you, Theo was ashamed. He couldn't believe that he'd let his emotions take over like that. Now he may have lost you for good. When you finally stopped in a secluded corridor, Theo turned away from you.

"Theo?" He was silent and your concern grew. It wasn't Theo's usual kind of silence, it was a silence that made your heart feel heavy. "Theodore."

"Don't."

"What?"

Finally Theo turns to you and his eyes are glossy. It was startling almost, to see the normally calm and collected boy tearing up. "Don't do that tesoro. Yell, push me, hit me if you need to, but I'm not Theodore. Not to you."

"What happened?" He sighed.

"I overheard Adrian say something completely vile about... you. I couldn't let him talk about you like that. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me cuore. You are the only light in my dark life."

You reached out and grabbed Theo's hands in your own. "That's incredibly sweet of you Theo. But why would you do that for me?"

"Isn't it obvious! I am entirely and irreversibly in love with you. I cannot live without you and I will not allow anyone to say such things about you."

After that, Theo took you out on a date. Thanks to his Pureblood lineage, Theo's family was quite wealthy. And his father had always taken to making sure he was well cared for financially, perhaps out of guilt from his emotional abuse.

For your first date, Theo took you to a London shopping district with his Black Card. At first you refused to spend any of his money. That is until Theo became resigned to buy you everything that your eyes lingered on for more than five seconds despite all your protests.

To end the date, he treated you to a nice dinner and then brought the pair of you back to Hogwarts.

As your boyfriend:

As your boyfriend, Theo's go-to nickname for you is either tesoro (treasure). He spends a lot of time staring at you which Mattheo teases him endlessly for of course.

He wishes you could meet his mother, but he adamantly refuses for you to meet his father. Instead, he introduces you to his grandmother. She teaches you how to make pasta from scratch and you and Theo often sneak into the kitchens at Hogwarts to try and make it there.

He makes it pretty clear that you're the only girl for him. He even tells you one night how his mother's dying wish was for him to find someone that he loved wholeheartedly and who loved him as much. Theo knows that this person is you, and he has no shyness in telling you.

He hates to see you cry, but if for any reason you're feeling sad, he recites Italian poetry to you in a soft and devoted tone.

Questo nostro amore, vita mia

lo prospetti felice

destinato a durare per sempre.

Dei del cielo, fate voi che lei dica il vero,

che lo prometta sincera e dal cuore,

che si possa per tutta la vita

mantener questo patto inviolabile

(This love of ours my life; I predict will be happy; destined to last forever.; Gods of the sky, do what you deem to be true; that promises to be sincere and from the heart,; which can be for a lifetime,; keep this inviolable covenant.)

When Theo speaks his native tongue it makes you a little weak in the knees. The way that his lips curve around the words and his tongue effortlessly forms each syllable makes your heart swell.

Overall:

Italian Theo is a complete cutie with impeccable manners and expresses more romance in ten minutes with you than most men express in their entire lives. He sees you as a light that brightens his life that he will do anything to protect.

----

help this is so bad

[webslingingslasher]

Unknown Sender

happy valentine's day!

MONDAY: 13:52 

‘hi.’ Peter squints at the message, then the unsaved number. He's not sure how, but it’s a scam. 

‘i’d like to have your attention, please.’ Peter rolls his eyes, swiping left to not only delete but report the number as junk. No doubt it was a bot or someone with a flair for sextortion. 

A new number. ‘that was actually so rude of you, parker.’ 

‘unblock me right now.’ 

Peter shifts in his seat, he does a slow look around the room and finds nothing off putting or alarming. 

‘Who is this?’ 

Green bubbles pop up. ‘unblock me and i’ll tell you.’ Peter was right to guess about extortion. Another swipe, blocked and reported. Peter wasn’t participating in any games. 

A new number. ‘oh, now you’re just being cute.’ 

Peter feels his heart pick up a bit, it’s a tad threatening and now he’s overthinking it a little. What if someone has it out for him? Is there a mark on his back? ‘Please leave me alone.’ 

‘no.’ 

‘can we play 21 questions?’ 

Peter’s face scrunches up, he spins his head around one more time, someone is fucking with him. He has no clue who has time for something like that in university, but he’s not a willing participant anymore, not since high school. 

‘Leave me alone. Go torment a freshman.’ 

‘i don’t like freshmen. i like you.’ Peter chews at his bottom lip, there was a second of hesitancy but he knows the truth deep down. ‘I’m blocking you.’ 

‘sure. i’ll keep texting you, too.’ 

‘I’ll change my number.’ 

‘noooo please don’t do that. i had to work hard enough to get it the first time.’ Peter doesn’t respond. He blocks the number and moves on, and they don’t try to text him again.

Until the next day and Peter knows two things for certain. There is a note in his backpack, and it wasn’t there before his econ lecture. He remembers pulling that pocket open before he started notes, then when he went to zip it up, a note. 

This upsets him. What good was any sense when someone could get that unnoticeably close to him without him knowing? Second, it’s a little frustrating not to know who this person is and how it most likely is connected to the texts he had a few days ago, and that it’s an extremely long played joke that’s mostly boring. 

‘Peter Parker- 

You’ve been secretly admired. It might not be very secret, because I think you’ve caught me staring at you a thousand times. I like you a lot. 

Hopefully liked back, 

-X’ 

But a part of him believes it’s true. He’s trying to think of who’s in his lecture, if he’s caught them staring then they’re either to the side or behind him. There are too many faces, too many times he’s been looked at, he’s almost centered, it’s his fault for choosing a focal point. 

Instead of throwing it away, he refolds the pink handwriting and puts it back into place before hitching a strap over his shoulder and sliding behind chairs. One, two steps up he glances at your face, you have a weak smile, he returns the same kind, it’s more like a polite nod. Peter’s always thought you were pretty and he thinks you're nice. 

But really, he’s wondering who left the note. 

10:30

‘did you get my note?’ Peter does his normal scan across campus, again, his fault for being out in the open. This person could be anywhere, he’s on a picnic bench with a group of friends. If he’s smart, he’d start limiting himself to contained spaces and make you show yourself. 

‘Yeah. Who is this?’ Peter’s thumbs dance around the screen waiting for a reply, it comes quick. ‘i told you. x.’ He stops himself from rolling his eyes, he doesn’t know anyone with an ‘X’ anywhere in their name. 

‘Is that an initial?’ 

‘actually, i’m pretty sure it’s british for kiss.’ 

‘That’s a wild take. Are you saying the UK is responsible for XOXO’s?’ 

‘i’d like to make you responsible for my xoxo’s.’ Peter chews his bottom lip, he won’t play into anything in writing. He doesn’t believe this for a second, everything about this feels off. Someone’s fucking with him and they’re also in his class, or they have someone in on it in his class. 

But this is too advanced.

‘sorry. i don’t mean to like harass you or anything. you’re really hot but you scare me, i don’t think you would like me so idk, maybe if you talk to me you’d like me for me or something.’ 

‘i just think i’m punching wayyyy above my weight class here and i may be making this worse because there is no doubt you think im weird.’ 

‘i am weird. i should leave you alone now. i’m sorry.’ 

Peter reads his screen four times, it’s still not clicking. He’s nothing special and he doesn’t mean that in a way to dog on himself, he’s just nerdy and quiet. It seems a little too authentic to be fake, but he’s got to make sure. 

‘How’d you get my number?’ 

‘your friend. they have been sworn to secrecy but they know what i’m doing and they are in full support. take that as you will.’ 

‘Depends on the friend.’ 

‘i’ll tell you when you find out who i am.’ 

‘I’m going to find out? You’re not going to tell me?’ 

‘i don’t think i’ve been hiding it. you just haven’t been paying attention and now i want you to.’ 

‘Oh, but you’re shy?’ 

‘i’m about to pass out on the lawn behind this fucking screen, don’t play with me parker.’ A slip, you’re around him and you just admitted it. ‘Tell me, admirer, what are you wearing?’ The more detail the better, but he could work off of just a color. 

‘nice try. but you’re looking mighty handsome in the blue.’ A glance down, he suddenly feels watched. ‘Are you stalking me?’ 

‘oh no! no no no. i PROMISE you i’m not that fucking psychotic.’

‘i’m just a “sneak a note into your backpack” level of crazy. i’m here with my roommate and her boyfriend. i saw you and just wanted to know if you got it, i promise.’ 

‘You do understand that this situation makes you seem psychotic, right?’ 

‘yes. but i am not.’ 

‘That sounds like something a crazy person who got my number from a third party would say. Especially after I blocked you six times.’ 

‘it was three and you didn’t understand my intentions but okay. you have a fair point and i extend the olive branch of brett. he gave me your number and he knows me pretty well.’ 

Brett? Easy enough, he nods his head towards him and slides his phone across the table. “Explain.” His friend scrolls through the thread, a trustworthy smile spreads. “Yeah, I gave her your number.” Her. Okay, it’s something. “Who is she?” Brett shrugs, “you know her. She’s kind of a firecracker, you just make her nervous.” 

“That gives me nothing, Brett.” His friend blinks, “she’s not crazy. She likes you a lot for whatever fucking reason and has no idea how to approach you.” Peter’s letting his words soak in, “don’t believe me? Ask her about the grilled cheese, and make sure you tell her that I told you about how she went on for five fucking minutes about the grilled cheese.” 

“What grilled cheese?” Brett slides Peter’s phone back, he’s telling him to ask you. Something tells Peter it’s enough to embarrass, or it might be Brett being the ultimate wingman.

‘I’ve been told to ask you about the grilled cheese.’ 

‘oh god. there is no need to ask about the grilled cheese, did brett tell you about the grilled cheese?’ 

‘He told me to ask you. And to specify that you went on for five minutes about it.’ 

‘five is excessive, it was more like three. second, there is nothing to speak about.’ 

‘I would like to hear about it.’ 

‘i’d prefer if you didn’t.’ 

‘But you’ll do it for me?’ 

‘i’m weak for you and you know it. it’s sicking, parker.’ 

‘i heard you talking about making one in class and you said something about the crust and i really fucking love grilled cheese’s so i had a trip to fantasy land where you made me one and how it’s probably the best thing i’ll never get to taste.’ 

‘Wow. Five whole minutes on that?’ Peter won’t admit it made him feel a little warm on the inside, the most mundane of things to have someone so squirrely makes him feel unworthy. 

‘three.’ 

‘Tell me who you are and I’ll make you a grilled cheese.’ 

‘you have no idea how much that almost worked.’ 

‘What’s the plan then, master manipulator?’ 

‘i don’t know yet. i’m hoping you show me how smart you are and figure me out, then you can do all the hard questions.’ 

‘Hard questions?’ 

‘you know, do you wanna go on a date, do you wanna be my girlfriend, do you want to take my hand in marriage and have a summer home in the french alps? that kind of stuff.’ 

‘Totally not psychotic.’ Peter tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to hide the smile that wants to spread. 

‘mostly not.’ 

WEDNESDAY: 13:57

Peter doesn’t know who X is, but they’re clever and have zero effect on his sixth sense. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Either way, he’s reading a note scribbled in blue pen and as he studies the words he knows it was rushed. It’s proof that he wasn’t being followed everywhere, instead you saw an empty table and an opportunity. 

‘Peter- 

You use mostly gender neutral pronouns. I think that’s very cool. Is it weird that I notice those things about you? Also- what is it that you’re always drinking from Nuthouse? Asking for a friend… 

Have a good day! 

-Your not so secret admirer, X. 

‘Not so secret,’ Peter isn’t sure about that. You’ve done a good enough job at not trying to be obviously known, he might have looked up your number last night to find dust. One was from an app, but the one you’ve been using is a burner phone. 

What he’s really not understanding is how you’re able to get so close to him without him noticing. You had to have been millimeters away when you rested the letter on his backpack, he was gone for less than two minutes and he had zero awareness. 

Peter folds up the note and sticks it in the same pocket as the other one, his back slung around one shoulder as he moves up the stairs for the library. At the same time, you come down the opposite side, Peter gives a friendly acknowledgement. 

You choke down the lump in your throat. “Hi, Peter.” He’s already past you, it’s echoed behind his shoulder. “Hey.” It’s something. You’re trying, you’re trying to be bold for him. But he’s not going to notice, he’s never going to notice you and if you tell him who you are you’ll never live past his disappointment. 

Your phone vibrates, the other phone. Your heart picks up, Peter texted first. 

 14:02 

‘Dirty chai.’ 

‘best of both worlds. how fitting. you’re such a nonconforming king.’ 

‘I don’t even know what that means.’ 

‘But thank you?’ 

‘you’re welcome!’ 

‘anything fun on the roster today?’ 

‘Roster? Who are you?’ 

‘idk you make me nervous. blame yourself.’ 

‘Well, coach. Nothing fun on the roster, just some math. Wanna swap places with me?’ 

‘gross. i hate math so if you like it that’s good with me. one of us has to be smart and it’s not me.’

‘Smart enough to use a burner phone.’ 

‘oooooh, someone tried to find meeee.’ 

‘Can’t blame a guy for being curious, can you?’ 

‘were you disappointed when you found nothing?’ 

‘A little bit. But, you know, it keeps the imagination alive. A little unfair advantage on your side though, you already know what I look like.’ 

‘if it helps, you already know what i look like too.’ 

‘I do?’ 

‘yeah. we’ve talked before.’ 

‘Wait, so I know who you are?’ Brett said he did but Peter thought he meant you’d be familiar, not that he actually knew you. This just opened the floodgates to a million more possibilities. 

‘not really but yeah i guess. you know i exist but we’re not friends or anything.’ 

‘I’d like to think we’re friends, but okay.’ 

‘not outside the texting.’ 

‘That’s your decision.’ 

‘HATER.’ 

‘Anymore hints?’ 

‘.... no.’ 

‘HATER.’ 

FRIDAY: 12:15

You’re about to spill hot tea everywhere but it’ll be worth it to see his face. You ignore your pounding heart and stand in front of him. He’s got no clue you showed up, zoned out looking at the clock on the wall across from him. 

“Hi, Peter.” 

Full frontal attention, he’s looking at you. He’s perceiving you, he’s smiling at you. “Hi,” your eyes expand, he knows your name and it sounds so nice coming from his mouth. Sure, you’ve chatted with each other- even shared a few highlighters, but nothing serious. You’ve always been too scared to try anything else but maybe your fear has been mistaken for indifference. 

“I um, I lucked out today at Nuthouse so if you like dirty chai’s I got an extra one.” Your knees feel weak at his bright eyes, “my favorite. I’d love one, thank you.” You pass over the paper cup, your fingers brush and you think you’re about to collapse. 

“Yeah,” a weak laugh. “I had a feeling.” Peter tilts his head at you funny, you wonder if you pushed a little too far. “Okay, um, I’m gonna… have a good… lecture.” Peter nods and watches you go two rows up, he’s finally got a gut feeling. And it tells him to keep an eye out for you. 

TUESDAY: 12:10

Not that Peter was reliant on your attention, he was used to it. So when the texts stopped for three days and he was unable to find any letters he assumed you had lost interest and moved on. That felt fair to him, no harm no foul, at least he never really got to know you. 

Nevermind, there’s a folded notebook page on his miniature desk and his heart speeds up. His next task, put eyes on you. Bottom level, book and pencil in hand. He makes sure to note it’s a pencil and not the green ink that’s spread across the page. 

Peter thinks it’s a mind game, you were smart enough to know he’d look. Unless he was totally wrong on his guess. 

‘Peter- 

I ran out of minutes on my phone and I’m having a broke college kid moment. However, a friend took pity and donated a twenty to the campaign. I hope you’ve been good- I’ve missed talking to you. 

- Your not so secret admirer, X’ 

ps. stop keeping your backpack so close to you.’

It wasn’t anything personal, you just ran out of minutes. Peter smiles so wide he has to drop it, he almost clutches the paper to his chest in a thank you. Eyeing his backpack, he nudges it a little further behind him, following instruction. He’s kept it close in hopes to catch you, but instead he’s pushing you away. 

Peter’s committing the writing to memory as if he’s going to find you by the handwriting alone. A quick glance at footsteps, you’re three steps away when you smile. “Hi, Peter.” He nods, “hey.” You pause for a moment, mind racing for words. 

“Did you, um- did you do anything fun this weekend?” You’re about to crawl into a hole and die, it takes a moment to click that you were speaking to him. He went as far to look behind himself, then he spewed the answer to try and make up for the lost time. 

“Oh, uh not really. My aunt got a new bed so I had to lug the old one down seven flights of stairs.” Your eyes widen, you feel your mouth go dry and your tongue go thick. “By yourself?” Peter crosses his arms over his chest, a boyish grin swept over and you feel heart eyes form. 

“I’m a good nephew.” You want to pat his head and tell him you’re sure he is, then maybe hold him at gunpoint and tell you more stories about how he’s a perfect humanitarian. But you act like a normal human and smile back, “you sound like it.” 

Peter thanks you and you return to your seat with wobbly knees and a weak stomach, it’s silent torture to tease yourself like this with him. But you can’t help it and it’s only in effort to go after what you want. Even if it blows up when he figures out who you are. 

12:13

‘you’re looking mighty handsome today, mr. parker.’ 

‘I’m wearing a hoodie, but thank you.’ 

‘i said what i said.’ 

Boldly, ‘i see someone had another dirty chai. can’t stay away from them, can you?’ 

Another tick in Peter's stomach, he almost looks behind his shoulder at you, but he doesn’t. ‘It was a generous donation from a classmate.’ 

‘oh? pray tell, peter. pray tell.’ 

‘What? You don’t have a clue about who gave it to me?’ 

You swallow thickly, before you could get something out he sent another message. ‘No chance you didn’t see it go down?’ 

‘how could i? I was still on my way.’ 

‘... or was i?’ 

‘Tell you what, X. It one of the best teas I’ve had in a while.’ 

And you’d be damned if that didn’t make your entire chest flutter. 

FRIDAY: 15:29

“Here,” Peter’s hand clasped over the paper slapped into his chest. A hint of a syllable, Brett cuts himself off. “She asked me to give this to you.” Peter quickly read it and stared down before confiding in his friend for a second. 

‘Peter- 

Roses are red, violets are blue, all that I think about is you. 

It’s sweet in a cringy way, right? Boo on you for skipping class today, if you want, I could get you some notes. 

I hope I’ll see you Tuesday. 

-Your (really) not so secret admirer, X

ps. A pen exploded in my pocket. 10/10 chance my thigh will be stained.’

“I think I might know who it is.” 

“Uh, huh.” 

“But, she’s way out of my league.” 

“Correct.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “so it’s her?” He clarified with your name, Brett shrugged back. 

“I won’t be confirming or denying.” Peter knows what that means, “the lack of a no usually means yes.” 

“Bro,” Peter starts sputtering, “oh, c’mon! You know what I meant, I just meant that, I just- c’mon, Brett. Is it her?” 

“I have no idea who that is.” Peter wants to call bullshit, he has a gut feeling and he swears it’s you. You’re right, it’s not so secret. In fact, you’re painfully obvious. 

FRIDAY: 23:14 

‘you are soooooooo cute’ 

‘like your hair is so cute’ 

‘i looooove curly hair on guys and you have that!!!!!!!!!’ 

‘and you’re really funny cause like it’s so quick and witty like you have such good one liners’ 

‘also you’re really fucking hot and i KNOW you’re hiding something under those fucking sweaters and the second i see skin i WILL go feral.’ 

‘Something tells me you’re at the Kappa party.’ Peter’s pretending he doesn’t have a searing blush. If he’s got an inkling this could be you… then he might have proof for the non-believers that god exists. 

‘yes!!! are you here?? i should come see you.’ 

‘I hate to disappoint you, but I’m currently at a friend's house playing a Mario Kart drinking game.’ 

“But it’s nice to know that you’d give me your identity that quick.’ 

‘oh i can tell you who i am.’ Peter frowns at the text, he’s been doing nothing but crave the answer to who’s behind the love letters but it feels wrong. It’s not satisfactory enough for him, it’s also not what you want, you’re just drunk- and Peter’s going out on a limb here- horny. 

‘Save it for later.’ 

‘And maybe drink some water.’ 

‘i’d do anything for you cause you have the world's prettiest brown eyes’

‘Thank you for the compliments.’ 

‘you’re super welcome i try to hold them back because i’m a good girl but you’re just so cute i had to let you know’ 

‘I think you’re going to super regret this in the morning.’ 

‘false. maybe fact idk’

‘i should trust you tho because you’re super smart and you’re a nerd.’ 

‘I fear this is taking a turn for the worse.’ 

‘and that is so fucking HOT’

‘Oh. Back to compliments. Thank you.’ 

‘if you were here i’d give you a kiss’

‘IGNORE THAT!!!!’

‘I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND THAT!!!! IGNORE IT’ 

‘Not ignored. How cute.’ 

‘screaming crying throwing up’ 

‘i really didn’t mean to send that it was a joke ha ha funny.’ 

‘Idk, sounded authentic to me.’ 

‘peter?’ 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘i’m a little drunk rn. and you should know how cute you are.’ 

‘Oh, I’m talking about record breaking levels of regret. This is amazing.’ 

‘i have to pee but i do not reget this!!!!!!’ 

SATURDAY: 09:54

‘i stand by my claim and do not regret a thing.’ 

‘correction. i regret this hangover and the way my previous texts are not very cool girl of me.’ 

‘but i would like to know if you won mario last night.’

‘also, who’s ur fav character?’ 

11:12

1. Proud of you for owning it, that’s very cool girl of you. 

2. I did not win. 

3. Petey Piranha. 

‘who tf is petey piranha.’

‘Mario Kart Sunshine. Came out in 2002. (Originally on GameCube but recently released on switch.) (Hell yeah.)’ 

Your heart thumps, he’s such a nerd and you wanna kiss the air out of his lungs. ‘out of all the characters and u choose him. why petey piranha’ 

‘One guess.’ 

‘PETEY PIRANHA.’ 

‘OH MY GOD.’ 

‘you’re petey piranha <333’ 

Peter fights a grin, ‘I am.’ 

‘you’re so cute. i love that.’ 

‘Personally, in the past 24 hours I don’t think I’ve heard enough about how cute I am.’

‘you’re insufferable and it’s sexy.’ 

‘Oo, new one to the mix. You’re making me blush.’ You really are. He’s never been considered sexy before and it feels really nice. 

‘and i bet you look super cute.’ 

‘Super true.’ 

TUESDAY: 12:34

‘white t shirt white t shirt white t shirt WHITE T SHIRT.’ 

‘You like?’ 

‘i’m about to cry i’m biting my fist so fucking hard.’ 

‘:)’ 

‘you’re so ubuibabeyia.’ 

‘Bless you.’ 

‘?’ 

‘Sorry, I assumed you sneezed.’ Peter never whipped his head around so fast at an audible laugh behind him. It was short, it had escaped without being thought about. He’s looking for you, but it doesn’t seem like it was you who laughed. You’re engrossed in chatting to your neighbor. 

On the other hand, you almost blew it by clasping your hands over your mouth. Instead you looked next to you and said, directly and with a burning gaze, “I need you to pretend we’ve been talking this whole time.” 

‘Someone’s losing their edge, you’re just begging to be caught.’ 

‘oh, i’m begging all right.’ 

‘can you hear me whimpering too?’ 

‘Easy, killer. Let’s not start sexting at noon on a Tuesday.’ 

‘are you saying there is a time for it?’ 

‘Give me a little wave and we’ll see.’ 

‘too late, i’m passed out on the floor. the only thing that can resuscitate me are those thick arms wrapped around me.’ 

‘Let these strong arms sweep you off your feet, all you gotta do is come talk to me after lecture…’ 

Peter says that, but he doesn’t mean it. He’ll definitely eat his words when he sees it’s you, then he’d be coming up with a thousand ways to back out of it. He’s so much more than you deserve, you feel so safe behind a keyboard but in person you can barely say a sentence. 

It’s stupid and a little humbling because you’ve never felt this way about a guy before. 

‘trust me, i’m better in your imagination.’ 

WEDNESDAY: 14:22

‘Peter- 

You know a little about a lot and I think that is one of my favorite things about you. Or maybe it’s your voice. I could listen to you talk forever. 

-Your not so secret admirer, X’ 

A note under his textbook, if he follows his hunch then he’d be looking for… you. Conveniently three tables away and to the right of his own, you’re not looking for his reaction, you’ve got your focus on your own textbook but he swears you’re retaining none of it. It’s a distraction, or maybe it’s a diversion. 

Peter doesn’t mind. He’s going to wait. He has all the time in the world today and he’s going to sit here with his eyes on you until you look up at him because he knows you’re going to and once you do, he’s going to have his answer. 

If he’s right, and he swears he is, he’s going to absolutely lose is shit because what do you mean you like him and are intimidated? You boldly lied when you said you were punching above your weight class. Does it make him a jerk to say he wasn’t even thinking of you as a suitor and maybe a girl with a much more average look?

 Peter counted to sixty twice, you glance up, eyes shooting to the note you left on the table. The next stop, Peter’s face. And oh, you were not prepared to have him looking right back. Panic, you shoot a wave, a desperate attempt to pretend you’re seeing a familiar face. 

Peter waves back but he looks much more satisfied than you did, you wonder if the jig is up. Did he crack the code? Was he just trying to find a friendly way to let you down? Deny til death, he has no proof it’s you. You pack your things up, a hurried scramble before you could lose your cool. 

On the way out you almost stop breathing, your forearm caught in Peter’s hand. You’re staring down at it, he’s not removing it. It burns in the best way. “Hey,” you wait, you can’t stop looking at his hand, the muscle, the subtle flex, his fingertips paler to show his grip. “Hi, Peter.” 

It’s breathless, you think you’re about to die. If he asks, you don’t know how you’ll lie your way out. 

Guess who’s got a stained pocket? The corner edge darkened with black ink that would never be washed out. Peter has his answer. You’re her. You’re X. “Thanks again for the tea.” 

 Maybe you wanted more, you feel a bit deflated when it’s all you receive.

“You’re welcome.” Your arm feels cold when he drops his touch, you linger for a second too long, you’re not sure when you’ll be this brave again. It was too much of a close call. “I hope the rest of your day is good.” 

Peter’s got a charismatic grin, he feels settled now that he knows you’re the anonymous lover in his life. Even more so when you find yourself shy and reserved in person, it almost makes him giggle to think of the stark changes in confidence.

“You too.” Your body engulfs into flames when your arm is caught again, you’re struggling to keep calm at his boyish smile. “Quick question,” you nod slightly, trying to show zero paranoia for the following words. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” 

Short circuiting. You see black spots, you think you’re about to pass out. There is only one thing that means, no guy asks that if they weren’t interested in changing that, right? 

“No.” It’s anything but graceful. It sounds like you’ve never had a boyfriend before. It makes you sound like you’re scared he asked it. 

But, Peter doesn’t take it like that. He smiles wider, like he already knew the answer before he asked it.

THURSDAY: 16:37

A new letter, stuffed under the top handle of his backpack. Peter listened and stopped setting it next to him, in return he was rewarded. He can’t stop the small smile, you make it involuntary at this point. Peter’s never felt so special in his life, a little part of him wants this to never end. But he’d much rather look you in the eyes. 

‘Peter- 

I had a dream with you in it last night. Don’t worry, you had your clothes on. I’m not sure what we were doing but you were across from me at a diner and we were sitting in those super thick booths and our friends were there. 

I don’t know who these friends were, and I don’t think you do either. But I knew them as our friends. 

It felt really nice. I’m happy to know you, even if I just get this little piece. 

-Your not so secret admirer, X’

Peter’s been wrong a lot in his life but this time he really thinks he has it figured out. He’s much more bold now, this letter tells him it’s not infatuation, it’s love. 

You love him and he thinks he could love you too. 

FRIDAY: 20:08

‘Hey.’ Peter could be making the worst decision of his life here, he could be reading everything wrong and ruining this for himself. 

‘hi peter!’ But he really thinks he’s got it right.  

‘I really, really liked talking to you for the past few weeks but I think I should tell you that I like someone else.’ 

Gut wrenching despair. You knew it was too good to last, you knew he’d find someone more in his league. Someone who’d be willing to show him their face. There was no reason to respond because what would you say to that? 

‘thank you for letting me know that opening up to you was all for nothing!’ 

‘thanks for making me doubt love!’ 

‘hope you and her are so fucking happy together!!!!!’ 

Fuck it all and fuck Peter. He just liked the attention until it came from somewhere else. You don’t think you like him all that much anymore. You think you’re lying, too. Before you can give into the desire of hurting him just as bad, you calmly turn the phone off and stuff it in the back of a desk drawer to never be uncovered again. 

You slowly sit in bed and tug the blankets over your head. And only then, do you allow yourself to sob. 

Peter chewed on his bottom lip and waited an hour with constant phone checks before he realized a response was never coming. It really set in during the weekend but even further when he got no note or letter on monday. Not even when he left his backpack unattended for five minutes. 

TUESDAY -he was able to see you and how you avoided his eyes. How you pretended you didn’t see him send a small wave. How you had pulled back from him. 

And if he hadn’t hurt your feelings, or X’s feelings, why would you do that? 

You look up at a two fingered knock at the corner of your desk. “Hi.” You blink and ignore the white noise buzzing in your ears at the sight of Peter standing in front of you. “Hi, Peter.” 

“How was your weekend?” Bitter. Terrible. Lonely.

“Fine. Nothing exciting.” Besides you breaking my heart. 

Watching his fingertips dance on the edge of the plastic, you feel everything in you brighten. “You look sad.” There’s a burn in your stomach, he’s the reason for both the sting and the sadness. 

“Do you need something? Or are you just doing a friendly check in?” Peter bites back the grin when you snap at him, he’s so, so, so right and it feels so, so, so good. “Neither. I’m just confirming my suspicions.” 

“Suspicions?” 

“Yeah. You passed.” Your eyebrows furrow, before you could try to question further Peter was giving half a wave, saying bye, and skipping a step to his aisle. 

FRIDAY: 12:08

You stop breathing for a solid second before feeling your brain spark back to life. It could be anything, it could be from anyone, but you know there’s only one person who would’ve left a note on your desk. 

Your fingers slightly shake when you unfold the graph paper, little squares bled through with black sharpie. 

‘X-

Am I right?

Hopefully, 

-  Peter’ 

You can’t breathe, you can’t talk, you can’t move and you definitely can fucking not look at him. No, no, no. You can feel his eyes on you, you know he’s watching for your reaction. Peter figured you out and had his own fun along the way. 

You were the girl he liked. Oh, wow. Is this how special you’ve made him feel? Something just for your eyes, from him. A secret you both shared between lines. 

You spin and swear you can feel his gaze running over your back, he’s aching for the answer. You almost scream at a tap on your shoulder, a peek lets you know it’s the person you’re hiding from. 

Another note, folded up just like the other one. It’s pushed into your hand, Peter doesn’t say a word, he just offers and leaves. He’s not watching this time, he’s sitting and focused on the front, you feel air leak back into your lungs. 

Full on panic shaking, you’re so happy he’s not watching. 

Your name is addressed on the front, just like you do for him. 

‘I like you. 

I think you not so secretly like me too. 

We could talk more about it at dinner tonight. Will you let me take you out?

Circle yes or no. 

- Peter.

PS. XOXOXO now you’re responsible for mine, too.’ 

[elikajinnie]

HIHI i read your jungwon hogwarts au just now ( i had been planning to read it for a while now ) AND IT WAS SO GOOOOODD 😭🫶🏻‼️ also your ni-ki ones were insanely good too 🥹🫶🏻 i wanted to ask maybe if you have time could write another jungwon hogwarts au? Sorry if its too much ! Thank you forr reading and have a great day/night ahead ^^

Hogwarts in Fur - Y.J

OMG THANK YOU!! This made my day fr. I am very happy that you liked them! its not too much! really :) have a great day and please enjoy this one <3

P: Hufflepuff!Jungwon X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Love Confessions.

Synopsis: After years of secretly admiring your brother's friend Jungwon, a mysterious and overly affectionate black cat appears just after Jungwon goes missing. Now who does this cat belong to? Why does your brother seem nervous? And most importantly, where has Jungwon gone?

masterlist

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

You weren't best friends with your brother. As siblings, you had a tendency to bicker, picking fights over the smallest things—whose turn it was to set the table, who had borrowed whose stuff without asking. It was just how things were, and neither of you made much effort to change that. So when the Hogwarts acceptance letters arrived for the both of you, the thought of being sorted into the same house made you cringe.

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than sharing a common room with him, dealing with his sarcastic comments every day, or worse, being seen together like you were… friends. Fortunately, fate, or the Sorting Hat, was on your side. He ended up in one house, and you in another. The relief was instant. You thought that would be the end of it, and the two of you would drift along separate paths without much need to cross each other’s.

At least, that’s what you thought until you saw one of his friends.

It was always by chance—maybe you were walking through the courtyard or passing through the Great Hall—but there he was, standing next to your brother, laughing with that damn dimpled smile. His laugh was low and smooth, something that caught your ear and refused to let go. Your gaze lingered longer than you’d care to admit, taking in the confident way he leaned against the stone wall, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief.

And you couldn’t help but wonder why your brother, of all people, got to be friends with him.

You didn’t really mean to end up meeting your brother’s friend—definitely not after you’d spent years pointedly ignoring their group whenever you saw them in the halls. But here you were, sitting in the library with your brother, who had been pestering you for days—begging, really—about helping him in Transfiguration. At first, you ignored him, telling him to figure it out on his own like everyone else.

He had struggled with some spell that McGonagall had been drilling the class on, and though you initially refused (because who really wanted to give up their free time to help their sibling?), his relentless begging finally wore you down.

"Okay, okay, fine!" you had snapped. "I’ll help you, just stop whining about it."

Now, watching your brother fail the same transformation for the tenth time, you were starting to regret your decision. "No, you’re flicking your wand too fast," you muttered, rubbing your temple. "It’s not a race, slow down and say the incantation clearly."

He groaned, clearly frustrated. "I am doing it right! You’re just a bad teacher!"

You shot him a sharp look, your patience already worn thin from the past hour of back-and-forth bickering. "Oh really? So it’s my fault you can’t turn a teacup into a tortoise?"

He slumped further into the chair, muttering under his breath while absentmindedly tapping his quill against the desk. You narrowed your eyes at him, watching as he lazily flicked through his notes without even looking at you.

“Are you even paying attention?” you snapped, crossing your arms. “Or is this just a waste of both our time?”

He shrugged, not even bothering to lift his head. "I’m trying! It’s not like you’re explaining it any better than Professor McGonagall does."

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Maybe if you focused for five seconds instead of acting like this is some kind of joke, you’d actually get it."

He shot you a glare, the frustration clearly mutual. "Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, I wouldn’t have to!"

"You’re the one who begged me for help!" you snapped back. "If you don’t want it, just say so and I’ll leave."

For a second, there was silence between you, both of you glaring at each other.

“Hey, sorry to barge in. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

You looked up, and there he was - Yang Jungwon. He was standing next to your brother, a relaxed grin on his face as if he hadn’t just disrupted the painfully slow progress of your study session.

Your brother immediately perked up. “Oh, hey, Jungwon! I’ll be done in like… five minutes?” he said, casting a hopeful glance at you.

Jungwon’s eyes flickered over to you, curiosity lighting them up. “Oh, I didn’t know you had a tutor,” he teased, sliding into the chair opposite yours without waiting for an invitation.

You opened your mouth to retort that you weren’t a tutor, but your brother jumped in first. “Yeah, lucky me, right?” he said, grinning cheekily, ignoring the way you glared at him.

Jungwon chuckled softly, leaning back as though he had all the time in the world. “I’m Yang Jungwon, by the way,” he said, his gaze finally locking onto yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the warmth in his voice.

“Yeah, I know,” you replied, trying to sound indifferent but feeling a little thrown off. You hadn’t expected him to show up here of all places.

“So, what are you two studying? Transfiguration, right?” Jungwon asked, glancing at the textbook.

“Trying to,” you said, emphasizing the word as you shot a look at your brother. “Though, he’s not exactly the best student.”

Jungwon laughed, the sound easy and light, and you found yourself listening a little too closely. “I’m sure you’re doing fine. You always manage, don’t you?” he teased your brother, though his eyes kept flickering back to you. There was something in his gaze—curiosity, maybe, or amusement—that made it hard to look away.

You tried to refocus on your brother, but the atmosphere had shifted with Jungwon’s presence. And your brother seemed all too happy to let the tutoring session come to an abrupt end. Before you realized what was happening, he had packed up his things, slipping his quill and parchment into his bag with quick, practiced movements.

“Wait—hey, we’re not done,” you said, standing up from your seat, your voice carrying more frustration than intended.

Your brother shot you a cheeky grin, already halfway out the door with Jungwon by his side. “I’ll finish it eventually!" he called back, not even glancing over his shoulder.

You opened your mouth to protest further, but it was too late. The door shut with a soft click, and the sounds of their fading footsteps echoed down the hallway. You let out an exasperated sigh, sinking back into your chair, the weight of unfinished work settling on your shoulders.

Just as you were about to lay your head on the desk in defeat, you caught sight of Madam Pince, walking by with her usual stern expression. She stopped next to your table, clutching a book in her hands. “It’s a struggle, isn’t it?” she said, her voice softer than expected, though there was an unmistakable air of disapproval about her.

You blinked at her, still frustrated. “Yeah, something like that.”

Without another word, she handed you a thick, worn-out book you’d requested earlier—one you had specifically asked for to help your brother with his Transfiguration problems. The irony wasn’t lost on you as you stared at the cover.

"Here’s the book you asked for," Madam Pince added. "I hope it helps."

"Thanks," you muttered, though your enthusiasm had drained. The moment she left, you groaned and let your head fall onto the desk with a thud.

Typical. Your brother was off having fun while you were stuck with the work he was supposed to be doing. Just your luck.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

The next day, you headed to the courtyard, spotting your brother lounging with a group of his friends—Jungwon included. You took a deep breath, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling up as you approached. In your hand was a rolled-up assignment for Transfiguration that he had yet to complete, and you weren’t about to let him get away with neglecting it.

“Hey,” you said, walking up to the group and dropping the assignment on his lap. “You need to finish this by tomorrow, or Professor McGonagall’s going to have your head.”

Your brother groaned dramatically but grabbed the parchment anyway. You were about to turn and leave when you noticed some of his friends eyeing you, their teasing smiles quickly making you uncomfortable.

“Hey, Y/N” one of them said with a sly grin. “Why haven’t we seen you around more? You should join us sometime.”

Another chimed in, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, maybe we could get to know you better. Bet you’re a lot more fun than your brother.”

You rolled your eyes, already tired of their attempts. But before you could respond, your brother cut in sharply. “Oi, knock it off. She’s off-limits,” he said, his tone protective. “No guy’s good enough for her.”

As much as you appreciated his overprotective attitude sometimes, this was one of those moments when it was more annoying than endearing. You crossed your arms and shot him a pointed look. “Excuse me? I decide when I want a boyfriend, and I sure don’t need your approval.”

He scoffed, leaning back as if he had the upper hand. “Yeah, well, you can’t just pick any random guy. I’m only looking out for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your annoyance growing. “Looking out for me? You’re just trying to scare off everyone. I can handle myself, thank you very much.”

The bickering began to escalate, the two of you going back and forth as his friends watched with barely concealed amusement. It wasn’t until Jungwon, who had been watching quietly, stood up and approached that the argument came to an abrupt halt.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Jungwon said with a calm smile, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. He grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly. “I’m walking her to her next class.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but before you could protest, he was already leading you away from the group. “You—wait, what—”

“Trust me,” he interrupted smoothly, glancing at you with that same easy smile, “you’ll thank me later.”

You reluctantly let him guide you through the courtyard, your brother’s protests fading behind you. As you neared the Charms classroom, Jungwon slowed his pace, releasing your wrist and turning to face you.

“Well, here we are,” he said, his smile softening. Then, with a teasing tone, he added, “Though if you want me to walk you to class more often, all you have to do is ask.”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling your face heat up slightly at the unexpected flirtation. “Very smooth,” you muttered, trying to sound unimpressed, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Jungwon grinned, taking a step back. “I aim to please. See you around.” And with a casual wave, he walked off, leaving you standing at the door, your heart racing just a little faster than before.

The day after, you found out your brother had failed his Transfiguration lesson—again. Much to your dismay, you heard about it through one of his friends who casually mentioned it in passing, as though it was no big deal.

When you finally confronted him in the courtyard, his response was as nonchalant as ever.

“I failed, so what?” he said, leaning back and shrugging. “I’ll figure it out eventually. It’s just one lesson.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “You do realize that if you fail again, Professor McGonagall will send a letter to our parents, right?”

That seemed to get his attention, but only for a moment. He still didn’t look particularly bothered, which only made your frustration grow.

“And,” you continued, eyes narrowing, “you won’t be allowed to continue playing Quidditch.”

His expression changed instantly, the casual attitude melting away as panic settled in. “Wait, what?”

You smirked slightly, leaning in as if to drive the point home. “Yeah. You think professor McGonagall’s going to let you get away with failing and still keep your spot on the team? Good luck with that.”

Your brother sat up straight, the reality of the situation sinking in. “But—Quidditch is… I can’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely worried now. “If I can’t play Quidditch, I’ll lose my spot for next year, and… and Mum and Dad will kill me if they find out I’ve been failing.”

You raised an eyebrow, enjoying the shift in power. “So maybe you should’ve taken our last session a little more seriously, huh?”

He shot you a desperate look, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. “Alright, fine! I get it. I messed up.”

You tilted your head, waiting for the inevitable.

“I need your help,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I can’t afford to fail again, not with Quidditch on the line.”

You were just about to refuse—after all, you had warned him plenty of times before. But before you could get the words out, he pleaded, “No distractions this time. No friends, no tricks. Just me, focused, I swear. Please.”

You paused, arms crossed as you studied him. His expression was serious, and the desperation in his eyes was hard to ignore. It was a rare sight—your brother begging for your help without any sarcasm or half-hearted promises.

“I don’t know,” you said, pretending to think it over. “What’s in it for me?”

He groaned but quickly recovered, realizing this was his last shot. “Anything! I’ll do anything you ask, alright? Just… please.”

You smiled smugly, relishing the moment. “Anything, huh?”

He nodded frantically, looking like he’d sell his soul at this point if it meant saving his Quidditch spot.

“Alright,” you said, a slow grin spreading across your face. “I’ll help you… but I’ll be cashing in on that ‘anything’ promise sooner or later.”

He sighed in relief, though there was a hint of hesitation in his expression. “Fine, whatever you want.”

You smirked, feeling the upper hand. “Deal.”

True to his word, your brother showed up to the library that evening, looking more focused than you’d ever seen him when it came to schoolwork. He set his books and wand down on the table, already prepared to start, though you could still sense a bit of reluctance in his posture.

“Alright,” you said, sitting across from him and opening the Transfiguration book to the chapter on animal transformations. “No distractions. No shortcuts. You’re going to get this right if it’s the last thing I do.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ll try.”

You pulled out a teacup, placing it in front of him as you tapped your fingers on the table. “Okay, you know the incantation. Focus on the form of the animal, not just the spell. Visualize it fully.”

He sighed, gripping his wand tightly. “I know, I know. It’s just… hard.”

“Not an excuse,” you said, not letting him off the hook. “Go on.”

He took a deep breath, aiming his wand at the teacup. “Vera Verto.”

The teacup shook slightly, wobbling on the table before it started to change shape—slowly, very slowly. For a moment, it seemed like he might actually do it. But just as the teacup began to take the form of a small tortoise, it reverted back to its original state with a sharp clink.

He groaned, slumping back in his chair. “See? I can’t do it.”

“You’re close,” you said, keeping your voice calm even though you were starting to get frustrated too. “You’re overthinking the spell. Don’t rush it—focus on the animal’s form.”

He sat up straighter, taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay… let’s try again.”

Over the next hour, you guided him through the steps again and again, watching as he tried—and failed—repeatedly to get the teacup to fully transform. Each time, it got closer, but never quite there. Either the tortoise would have an odd shape, or the spell would falter halfway through.

Your patience started wearing thin, but you pushed through, determined to help him succeed.

“Look,” you said, leaning over the table and pointing at the page in the book. “You’re rushing the incantation. Break it down, slower this time.”

He nodded, taking your advice seriously for once. He aimed his wand at the teacup again, this time speaking the spell more carefully, enunciating each word with deliberate focus. “Vera Verto.”

The teacup quivered again, its edges shifting into a shell. Slowly, the handle morphed into a tiny, clawed foot. You both watched as the tortoise’s form finally solidified. A small, slow-moving tortoise now sat on the table, blinking up at you.

Your brother’s face lit up in surprise, his mouth falling open. “I did it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, despite yourself. “You actually did it.”

He beamed, picking up the tortoise carefully as if he couldn’t believe it. “Finally! Merlin’s beard, I didn’t think I’d ever get it.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, leaning back in your chair, “you only got there because I was a great teacher.”

He snorted, setting the tortoise back on the table. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully swatting him on the arm. “Don’t push your luck. Remember, you still owe me for this.”

He winced, but a grin tugged at his lips. “Alright, alright.”

You smirked, already plotting.

The next day, your brother returned from his Transfiguration class with a huge grin plastered on his face. He practically burst into the Grand Hall, eyes alight with excitement, and you knew immediately that something had gone well.

“I did it!” he exclaimed, rushing over to where you were seated. “I actually did it!”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your book aside. “Wait, you actually passed?”

“Not just passed,” he said, standing tall, practically puffing out his chest. “I nailed it! McGonagall didn’t even have to correct me once. She even said it was one of the best transformations in class!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how giddy he looked, the tension from the past few days completely gone from his shoulders. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d pull it off, honestly.”

“Hey, I’m not that hopeless,” he shot back, but his smile stayed wide and bright. “But seriously, thanks to you. If you hadn’t made me practice all those times, I’d still be failing.”

You smirked, giving him a mock-salute. “Well, that’s what good teachers do. And, you know, you can keep playing Quidditch now, so I guess that’s a bonus.”

At the mention of Quidditch, his excitement seemed to double. “Yes! Merlin, if I had to quit the team, I’d be dead. There’s no way I’m telling Mum and Dad that I failed Transfiguration and got kicked off the team.”

You chuckled, watching him bounce on his feet like an overexcited first-year. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Now you can focus on your matches without McGonagall breathing down your neck.”

He nodded eagerly, practically vibrating with joy. “Exactly! I can’t wait for the next practice. I’m going to crush it.”

You shook your head, amused at how his mood had completely flipped from just a few days ago. “Just remember to keep up with your studies, alright? I’m not going to bail you out every time you forget to do your homework.”

He gave you a mock pout. “What, you’re not going to tutor me forever?”

“Not a chance,” you said, laughing. “I’ve got my own work to focus on. You’ll just have to survive on your own from now on.”

He groaned dramatically but was clearly too happy to complain for real. “Fine, fine. But seriously, thanks. I owe you big time.”

You grinned, leaning back in your chair. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As he ran off to tell his friends the good news, you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of him. Despite all the bickering and the endless complaints, he had finally pulled it off. And, in a way, it felt like a win for both of you.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

The courtyard was buzzing with students enjoying a rare free afternoon, and your brother, now full of confidence from his recent success in Transfiguration, had taken it upon himself to show off his newfound skills. With a small group gathered around him, he cast spell after spell, transforming objects into animals with exaggerated flair. He was basking in the attention, especially from his friends, who cheered every time he succeeded.

"Watch this!" your brother said proudly, aiming his wand at a stray quill. “Vera Verto!”

The quill shifted into a small, fluffy rabbit, hopping around on the cobblestone, much to the crowd’s delight. He grinned, feeling invincible now that he had McGonagall’s praise under his belt. Emboldened, he attempted another transformation, but his next spell shot out of his wand faster than he anticipated. It veered wildly across the courtyard, completely missing the intended target.

The errant spell flew in an arc, headed straight for the far end of the courtyard where Jungwon had just been walking, completely unaware of the chaotic show your brother was putting on. Before anyone could react, the spell hit Jungwon square in the back.

In a flash, the Hufflepuff boy wasn’t standing there anymore.

Instead, a small black cat with bright, intelligent eyes stood in his place, looking confused for a split second. Jungwon—or rather, the cat that had been Jungwon—flicked his tail and darted away before anyone in the crowd could notice the commotion. He vanished between the hedges that lined the courtyard, disappearing into the maze of gardens beyond.

Your brother stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide as he realized what had happened. One of his friends nudged him, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. "Nicely done! What did you hit this time?"

“Uh…” he stammered, looking in the direction where Jungwon had been, but the cat was long gone. “I think I might’ve just… hit someone.”

One of the other students burst into laughter, thinking it was part of the fun. “What, you turned someone into a rabbit again?”

Your brother didn’t laugh. “No. Worse. I think I just turned Jungwon into a cat.”

The laughter around him died down quickly as the reality of what he’d done began to settle in. “What do you mean, a cat?” one of his friends asked, their tone becoming more serious.

But before your brother could respond, he was already hurrying toward the edge of the courtyard, scanning the area where Jungwon had disappeared. “We have to find him before anyone else does!” he muttered to himself, a growing sense of dread filling him.

However, Jungwon—or the cat—was nowhere in sight. He had bolted the moment the spell hit, and now he had vanished without a trace, leaving your brother to deal with the consequences of his reckless display.

The problem was, turning someone into an animal was one thing—but reversing it? That was a whole different level of Transfiguration.

Your brother searched frantically, darting around the courtyard and calling out for Jungwon. “Jungwon! Where are you?” he shouted, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. The laughter from his friends had faded, replaced by concerned murmurs as they began to realize the seriousness of the situation.

He sprinted around the corner where Jungwon had vanished, scanning every nook and cranny, every shadow cast by the towering castle walls. “Come on, this isn’t funny!” he pleaded, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Jungwon would pop out from behind a bush or the edge of a statue, ready to reveal that it had all been a prank.

But Hogwarts was vast, and as the minutes stretched on, the reality began to sink in. Jungwon—now a cat—had disappeared without a trace. Your brother ran a hand through his hair, panic rising within him. He couldn't afford to get caught for this.

Turning back to his friends, he lowered his voice, urgency clear in his tone. “Okay, listen. You can’t say anything about this. If any professors find out Jungwon is missing, we’ll all be in trouble. We need to find him before anyone notices.”

His friends exchanged worried glances but nodded in agreement. They understood how serious the situation was. “Right,” one of them said, trying to lighten the mood, though the tension was palpable. “Let’s just act like we’re studying for the next couple of hours. If we can’t find Jungwon, maybe he’ll come back on his own.”

Your brother nodded, but doubt gnawed at him. What if he didn’t? He felt responsible—if he hadn’t been so eager to show off, Jungwon wouldn’t have been turned into a cat in the first place. “We’ll check all the usual spots,” he said, determination sparking in his eyes. “He might head for the Hufflepuff common room or the kitchens.”

They split up, your brother retracing his steps back through the castle, checking every corner, every common area, and even asking other students if they’d seen a small black cat. But the castle was sprawling and labyrinthine; the longer he searched, the more overwhelmed he felt.

As the minutes turned into an hour, frustration bubbled up inside him. “This is pointless!” he muttered under his breath, leaning against a wall in a deserted corridor. “How could I let this happen?”

After another fruitless round, he finally returned to the courtyard, panting slightly. His friends were gathered in a huddle, whispering amongst themselves, and he felt a flicker of hope. “Did you find anything?”

One of his friends shook his head. “No sign of him anywhere. It’s like he just vanished.”

Your brother sighed, frustration and guilt mingling in his chest. “If we don’t find him soon, it’s only a matter of time before someone notices he’s missing from class. Professor McGonagall will have our heads.”

Just then, a flicker of movement caught his eye. He turned, but it was only a crow flitting across the courtyard, cawing loudly. Your brother’s heart sank. Hogwarts was just too big; how could he possibly find Jungwon in a castle that could swallow whole entire groups of students?

With a defeated expression, he sank onto a bench, burying his face in his hands. “What am I going to do? I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

His friends joined him, unsure of how to comfort him. “We’ll figure it out,” one of them said, trying to reassure him. “We just need to keep looking.”

But deep down, your brother couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time. He was the one responsible for turning Jungwon into a cat.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

You were sitting on the ground near the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the courtyard. The view was peaceful, and with a gentle breeze rustling the trees around you, it felt like a perfect moment to relax with your book.

Just as you settled into the first chapter, a small rustling sound caught your attention.. You looked up, surprised to see a small black cat making its way toward you, its greenish-gold eyes trained intently on you. The cat was sleek, with a slight glimmer to its fur under the sunlight, and it moved gracefully, weaving through the grass until it was at your feet.

“Hey there, little one,” you murmured, smiling as the cat sat down, regarding you with an almost curious gaze. Without hesitation, it leaped into your lap, settling down with a soft, contented purr.

The book forgotten, you brought a hand up to stroke its head, running your fingers gently over its soft fur. The cat’s purring grew louder, and it nestled into you, pressing its tiny head against your hand as if asking for more.

“Well, aren’t you a friendly one?” you said, chuckling as it leaned into your touch. You hadn’t expected it, but this little black cat was endearing itself to you quickly. Every time you paused in your petting, it would nudge its head under your hand, practically demanding more affection.

You laughed, charmed by the cat’s insistence. “Alright, alright, you win. More pets it is,” you murmured, resuming your gentle strokes.

The cat sprawled out across your lap, stretching its small limbs and settling back down with a sigh, its eyes half-closed as it drifted into a state of utter relaxation.

Minutes slipped by as you sat there, the black cat curled up happily in your lap, and any thoughts of returning to your book faded completely. “What’s a cat like you doing out here all by yourself?” you asked softly, smiling as it nudged its head up to meet your gaze. The cat simply blinked at you, its eyes clear and bright, before it began to purr even louder, pressing its small paws against your legs in a way that was almost… human-like.

You let out a small laugh, rubbing your thumb over the top of its head. “Alright, alright, you’re stealing all my attention,” you murmured. “I should be reading, but you’re just too cute.” The cat looked up at you with an expression that almost seemed like a smirk before closing its eyes again, purring louder than ever.

With a contented sigh, you leaned back against the tree, unaware that you’d just found Jungwon—and that he was thoroughly enjoying your company.

Eventually, the afternoon sun began to dip lower, and you knew it was time to return to the castle. With a sigh, you shifted in your seat, giving the cat a gentle nudge to encourage it off your lap.

“Alright, little one. I have to get back,” you murmured. The cat gave a low, disappointed-sounding meow, but leapt gracefully onto the ground as you stood. Just as you turned to gather your things, however, the cat started to weave between your ankles, pawing at your robes with insistent little meows.

You tried taking a step, but the cat was immediately at your heels, pressing against your leg as though it had no intention of letting you leave. When you moved forward, it darted up and batted playfully at your robes, trying to climb up and cling on as you walked.

“Oh, Merlin, you really don’t want me to go, do you?” you muttered, bending down to scoop the cat into your arms. As soon as you lifted it, it relaxed, its head nuzzling against your neck as it purred deeply, seeming more than content to be carried. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the soft fur warm against your skin and the gentle tickle of its whiskers along your throat.

“Alright, you can come with me,” you said with a soft chuckle, the cat’s wide eyes blinking up at you as though it fully understood. You held it securely, feeling the vibrations of its purring as it squished its head into the crook of your neck. It was surprisingly calming, and you found yourself enjoying the quiet presence of this affectionate little creature as you made your way back through the castle halls.

By the time you reached your common room, you had half a mind to keep it, especially as it snuggled closer, its whiskers brushing against your chin. “I’ll have to find your owner,” you whispered, though the cat gave no sign it wanted to leave your arms any time soon.

With a sigh, you stepped into the common room, glancing around at your fellow housemates and wondering if any of them had ever seen this black cat before. But as you felt the warmth of its tiny body snuggled against you, part of you wasn’t in any hurry to hand it over.

As you asked around the common room, you realized none of your housemates recognized the little black cat nestled in your arms. Some shrugged, while others asked to pet it, and each time you shook your head, a small part of you felt a guilty spark of relief. No one knew where it had come from, and no one seemed to be looking for it.

With the sky darkening outside and a long day behind you, you headed up to your dorm to change, gently setting the cat down as you pulled on your coziest clothes. No sooner had you settled onto your bed than the cat leapt up, its movements silent and smooth. It padded around your blankets, kneading the fabric with its tiny paws and purring so loudly you couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, no, no—if the house-elves find fur on the bed, they’ll be mad” you muttered, making a half-hearted attempt to shoo the cat off your bed. But when it turned and met your gaze, its bright eyes watching you with an innocent curiosity, you found yourself softening. The cat tilted its head, curling up against your side, its eyes half-closed as if perfectly content in your presence.

“Fine, you can stay,” you sighed, scooting over to make a little more room. The cat wasted no time, settling down right next to you and resting its tiny head on the blanket as if it belonged there.

With each slow, deep rumble of its purr, a calmness settled over you. You rested a hand lightly on its back, feeling the softness of its fur under your fingers. Soon, its gentle kneading softened, and the rhythmic rise and fall of its breathing lulled you into a state of relaxation.

Just as your eyes were beginning to flutter closed, the cat shifted, moving to rest its head against your hand, a contented weight in the dim quiet of the room. You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of the small creature by your side, and drifted into sleep, the cat’s purring accompanying you into peaceful dreams.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

Jungwon blinked, his new vision sharper in the dim light, taking in every detail of your sleeping face. The feline instincts were strong—comforting, even—but his human mind lingered just beneath them, stirring with a confusing blend of emotions.

When he’d first bolted from the courtyard, his mind had been clouded with panic. All he could think of was escaping, getting somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. But then he’d picked up on your scent—soft, familiar—and without a second thought, he’d followed it. His cat instincts hadn’t questioned why; they simply led him to you, to the one place that felt right.

Now, as he curled beside you, his heart pounded in a strange mixture of relief and guilt. He should be searching for help, finding someone who could reverse the spell and put an end to this humiliating predicament. But looking at you now, seeing the peaceful expression on your face and the faint smile gracing your lips, he felt something different.

You looked… happy. Content. The way you had opened your arms to him, stroking his fur and letting him stay close—it had made his heart race even in this small, helpless form. In the past, he’d admired you from a distance, always caught off guard by his nerves whenever you were near. But here, under the guise of this small, black cat, he was finally close to you without the hesitance.

He felt torn, his human logic telling him this was ridiculous—he had to find a professor, get back to normal, explain to you what happened. But another part of him—the soft purrs escaping without his control, the way his little paws kept kneading against the blanket—wanted to stay just a little longer. Just until the morning.

For now, he let himself settle into the comfort of your presence, letting his instincts guide him. After all, you looked far too pretty to disturb with a frown when you found out the truth.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

The days slipped by, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself no closer to finding the cat’s owner. You’d asked around, stopping classmates in the hall, mentioning the small black cat that had so readily taken up residence on your bed, but no one claimed it. Each time, you received the same answers—shakes of the head, puzzled expressions, a few amused smiles.

With every passing day, the cat became more of a fixture in your life. Each morning before leaving for class, you’d give him a little scratch behind the ears, feeling his soft purrs ripple through your hand. And each evening, you’d return to find him curled up in the same spot on your bed, his little form nestled in the blankets, his tiny paws tucked under his chest as if he owned the place. There was something comforting about his presence, and you noticed how he’d glance up at you with those intense, knowing eyes every time you walked in, as if he’d been waiting for you all day.

The cat—who you’d started calling “Onyx” in your head—seemed perfectly content. He’d stretch luxuriously when you arrived, basking in any attention you or your housemates would give him, blinking slowly and rubbing his head against your hand, as if he were marking you as his own. And he was endlessly spoiled by your housemates, who would sneak in to pet him whenever they could, laughing over his unusual attachment to you.

Meanwhile, your brother seemed on the verge of a complete breakdown. Every time you caught sight of him in the hallways, he was muttering under his breath, eyes darting around as if he expected Jungwon to materialize out of thin air. His friends could barely keep up with his frantic pace as he searched the school from top to bottom, interrogating classmates, making excuses to professors, and even peeking into the kitchens.

One afternoon, when you saw him dashing through the courtyard, you raised an eyebrow at him. “You look like you’re about to explode. What’s going on?”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “Nothing, nothing—just… I lost something really important. And if I don’t find it soon, I’m going to be in so much trouble,” he said, casting a wary glance over his shoulder as though he expected it to appear any second.

You patted his shoulder, offering him a sympathetic smile. “Good luck, then. I’m sure you’ll find it,” you said, trying to reassure him. But you had no idea that the “lost item” he was so desperately searching for was happily snoozing on your bed, completely unaware of the chaos he’d left in his wake.

Jungwon, or Onyx, stretched lazily, content to continue napping in the warm scent of your blankets, savoring each gentle pet and scratching his cheek against your hand whenever you came close. His human instincts occasionally tugged at him, whispering that he should reveal himself, that he should find a way back to normal. But the comfort of your presence, the gentle affection, and the sound of your laughter as you spoke to him were too good to leave just yet.

Four days after you’d found the little black cat, it struck you that you hadn’t seen Jungwon around. Usually, you’d spot him at least once a day—sitting with your brother at meals, laughing with his Hufflepuff friends in the courtyard, or even catching him in the hallways. But now that you thought about it, he’d been strangely absent, his cheerful presence nowhere to be found.

Curious, you tracked down your brother between classes, catching him just as he was shoving books into his bag. “Hey, have you seen Jungwon? It’s been days. Is he alright?”

Your brother stiffened ever so slightly before glancing up with what he probably hoped was a casual look. “Jungwon? Oh, yeah, he’s… he’s fine. Just sick. Nothing to worry about.”

You raised an eyebrow at his rushed answer. “Really? I thought he’d usually be back by now. He’s not usually the type to miss this much class.”

“He’ll be back soon, don’t worry about it,” your brother said quickly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “He’s probably just lying low until he feels better.”

“Alright… well, tell him I hope he feels better,” you said, giving him a small smile before turning back to your own things.

Your brother nodded, though his face was tight with worry. But you didn’t notice his nervous glances, already distracted by the thought of getting back to “Onyx,” who was likely curled up on your bed, waiting for you. You didn’t give Jungwon’s absence much more thought, trusting your brother’s explanation, but you made a mental note to check in with Jungwon as soon as he returned.

When you slipped into your dorm room, carefully unwrapping the napkin bundle, the savory scent of chicken filled the air, and the cat immediately perked up. The moment you set the pieces down, he eagerly devoured them, tail flicking with excitement. You chuckled softly, watching as he polished off every last bite, licking his lips in pure satisfaction.

As you turned to grab your bag, Onyx suddenly jumped up, landing neatly on your shoulder. Startled, you reached up instinctively to hold him steady, and he nuzzled against you, purring loudly. You couldn’t help but laugh, scratching behind his ear. “You know I have to go, right?”

Onyx blinked at you, his bright eyes wide, and let out a small, soft meow, almost pleading. His paws lightly pressed against your chest as he settled into your arms, curling his tiny body closer as if he had no intention of letting you leave.

“Alright, alright…” you sighed, giving in as he snuggled into your embrace. Muggle Studies could wait, couldn’t it? What were a few facts about telephones compared to this soft, warm ball of fluff purring contently against you? You slipped off your shoes, set your bag down, and climbed onto your bed, pulling the blankets over the both of you as Onyx nestled against your shoulder, his purring a gentle hum in the quiet room.

As you traced gentle patterns along his fur, he stretched his little head up, his whiskers tickling your cheek as he nuzzled closer, eyes half-closed with contentment. The warmth of the moment filled you with a sense of peace, and you drifted off into a light nap, your arm curled protectively around him, wondering absently why this small creature felt so right here with you.

The following day, as you sat nestled in a corner of the library, flipping through your notes, your brother slid into the seat across from you, an odd look on his face. You glanced up, raising an eyebrow at his nervous expression.

“Hey, I need… um, a little help with something,” he started, tapping his fingers against the table.

You set your quill down. “Alright, spill it. What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat, glancing around as if worried someone might overhear. “I just… well, I wanted to know the incantation to reverse… an animal transformation. You know, from animal back to human.”

“An animal transformation?” you repeated, giving him a quizzical look. “Why would you need that? Unless…” You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve been practicing transfiguration spells on yourself or your friends.”

He waved his hand dismissively, though his nervous laugh didn’t help his case. “Nothing like that. I’m just… curious! Thought I’d get a head start, just in case we need it for class.” His voice was unconvincing, and you tilted your head, not buying it.

“Uh-huh. Right. So you just need a random incantation for a transfiguration reversal?” you pressed, crossing your arms.

“Exactly,” he said, nodding eagerly. “It’s really just for, you know, future knowledge.”

You weren’t convinced, but he was desperate, and you found yourself softening under his pleading gaze. “Fine, I’ll teach you. But you owe me—no, you owe me two favors for this.” You held up two fingers, your expression firm.

“Deal,” he said instantly, relief flashing across his face.

With a sigh, you gestured for him to take a seat beside you, flipping open your transfiguration notes. “Alright, listen carefully. The reversal incantation isn’t simple. You have to focus on the original form of the person and their essence before casting. If you don’t concentrate, it’ll either fail or, worse, only half-work,” you explained, watching as he nodded along, his expression tense.

As you practiced the incantation with him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this story. But, for now, you focused on teaching him the spell, repeating it until he could say it smoothly, his confidence growing with each repetition.

"Just… remember, don’t go using this on any poor creatures for ‘fun,’ alright?” you added as you finished up, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he replied, though his gaze darted away. You rolled your eyes, hoping he’d stick to his word.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

As the days stretched on, Jungwon felt the line between his human and feline instincts beginning to blur. He’d started feeling strange, odd urges pulling at him that he didn’t quite understand but felt impossible to resist. The need to chase things that moved quickly—flickering lights, loose threads, even the feathery tips of your quill as you wrote—all of it stirred a primal thrill in him. His ears perked up at the slightest sounds, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to the cozy comfort of curling up beside you.

At night, he’d stretch out over your stomach or chest, his paws kneading into you as he settled down. The warmth of your body and the steady rise and fall of your breathing soothed him, and he would close his eyes, purring loudly as he drifted off. During the day, whenever you studied in the common room, he would find a spot to settle between your thighs, his little head resting comfortably against your leg, peeking up at you whenever he wanted a little scratch behind the ears.

But the more he settled into his role as your personal shadow, the more possessive he became. If one of your male housemates so much as got too close, his eyes would narrow, his ears flattening as a low, warning hiss escaped him. His back would arch slightly, and they would back off quickly, shooting you wide-eyed looks as they muttered apologies. The second they were gone, Jungwon would leap up onto your shoulders, his tail flicking with satisfaction as he licked your cheek, snuggling against you as if to say, Mine.

When you wore oversized hoodies or sweaters, he couldn’t resist crawling under the soft, cozy fabric, his little head poking out at your collar. It was his favorite spot, snug and warm, and he’d curl up contentedly, letting out a rumbling purr every time you scratched his head. Your housemates couldn’t help but laugh, dubbing him “your son” and teasing you whenever he was glued to your side.

“He’s practically attached to you, isn’t he?” one of your friends laughed as Jungwon, true to form, climbed onto your lap and lay there, eyes half-closed in contentment.

You shrugged, petting him gently. “Guess he just knows he’s found someone who’ll spoil him.”

He would chase after loose threads from your clothes, batting them playfully with his paws as if they were the most fascinating toys in the world. His playful antics brought you endless joy; you often found yourself laughing as he pounced and rolled, completely entranced by his own reflection in a nearby window.

When nighttime fell and you settled into bed, Jungwon would curl up on your chest, his small, warm body rising and falling with each breath you took. In those quiet moments, he would gaze up at you with wide, adoring eyes, completely mesmerized. In his cat mind, you were the woman for him—his perfect companion. He would think about how soft your skin was and how lovely it was to be close to you, relishing the sound of your heartbeat beneath him.

He became clingier than ever, following you around the common room and weaving through your legs, his purring becoming a constant background noise in your life. If you left the room, he’d meow softly, almost in protest, as if urging you to come back. When you weren’t around, Jungwon would curl up on your bed, his eyes half-closed as he waited patiently for your return. Each time he heard the sound of the door opening, he’d perk up, tail flicking excitedly, ready to shower you with affection the moment you stepped inside.

If you were studying or hanging out with friends, Jungwon would find a way to squeeze into your lap or snuggle against your side, his soft fur inviting you to pet him.

He would often steal your attention, meowing softly until you looked down at him, his bright eyes pleading for affection.

Your pet owl, however, became a rare source of conflict. The moment you started cooing to it, stroking its feathers, Jungwon would watch with narrowed eyes, his gaze intent, as if he were sizing up a rival. He’d immediately trot over to you, swatting gently at your hand with his paw, a soft mrrp leaving his mouth as he demanded your attention. If you gave in, he’d snuggle close, basking in the affection as if he’d won some unspoken victory.

To everyone else, it was obvious you had somehow become this little black cat’s world.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

One crisp afternoon, you stepped out of your dorm with your housemates, the sun streaming through the tall windows of Hogwarts. You all laughed and chatted, excitement buzzing in the air as you discussed plans for the weekend. Just as you were about to leave the common room, one of your friends suddenly exclaimed, “Oh no! I forgot my Potions book!”

“I’ll be right back!” they called, dashing back inside the cozy room.

The rest of you continued down the corridor, blissfully unaware that the door had swung ajar, leaving just enough space for a curious little black cat to slip through unnoticed. Jungwon, feeling adventurous, seized the opportunity to dart after your friends, his instincts kicking in as he decided to trust his nose to find you. Your perfume—sweet and comforting—drew him in like a moth to a flame.

Navigating the familiar halls of Hogwarts, he quickly made his way through the bustling corridors, weaving past students and ignoring the occasional glance thrown his way.

Finally, he spotted you in the courtyard, nestled comfortably on a bench with your favorite book in hand. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows around you, and for a moment, Jungwon was mesmerized by how serene you looked, completely absorbed in your reading. He couldn’t help but let out a little meow, excitement bubbling up as he began to sprint toward you.

But just as he was about to reach you, your brother appeared out of nowhere, stepping directly into Jungwon’s path. The sudden block caught him off guard, and he skidded to a halt, a startled yelp escaping his mouth. Your brother crouched down, arms outstretched, attempting to scoop Jungwon up, but he had other plans.

With a quick flick of his paw, Jungwon hissed, his instincts kicking in as he squirmed to escape. “Hey! No!” your brother protested, eyes widening as he struggled to keep a hold on the wriggling black cat.

Jungwon protested, hissing and wriggling in his grip, desperately trying to escape. The sound was startling and unusual, catching the attention of several students nearby who turned to witness the scene unfolding, including yours.

“What’s happening?” you shouted, your heart dropping as you recognized the little black cat your brother was trying to grab. “Onyx!”

At the sound of your voice, Jungwon's ears perked up, and he whipped around to look at you, desperate for help. Before your brother could fully grasp him, Jungwon managed to twist free from his grip, leaping out of his hands and bounding straight into yours.

You caught him with a gasp, the soft weight of him settling against you instantly warming your heart. “What are you doing?” you exclaimed, cradling him protectively as you shot a glance at your brother. Jungwon meanwhile purred loudly, rubbing his cheek against your hand as if to say, Yes, this is exactly where I want to be.

“What’s going on?” you asked, concern lacing your voice as you glanced at your brother.

“Uh, it’s nothing, really,” he replied, attempting to brush off the situation with a half-hearted smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Come on, just tell me the truth.”

Your brother sighed, his shoulders slumping as he relented. “Okay, okay! The cat you’re holding... it’s Jungwon. I, um, accidentally turned him into a cat during Transfiguration practice.”

Your heart sank as you looked down at Jungwon, who was nestled comfortably against your chest, blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding him. “Are you sure this is Jungwon?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

He nodded vigorously, a hint of guilt flashing in his eyes. “I swear! It was an accident! I didn’t mean for it to happen, I just—”

With a deep sigh, you set Jungwon down gently, your mind racing. Pulling out your wand, you focused on the spell needed to reverse the transformation. “Alright, just hold still, Jungwon,” you instructed softly. “Reverso Animus!” you said clearly, watching as the familiar golden light enveloped Jungwon.

In an instant, the small black cat began to shimmer and shift, growing in size until you were staring at the unmistakable form of Jungwon himself. Your eyes widened in shock as he stood up slowly, looking at his hands, then down at his body as if he couldn’t believe he was back to normal.

“I’m back!” he exclaimed, a bright smile spreading across his face, laughter bubbling up as his friends and your brother rushed to surround him, excitement and relief evident on their faces.

“I’m so sorry, Jungwon!” your brother shouted over the commotion, his voice filled with a thousand apologies, clearly trying to make amends for his mistake. “I didn’t mean to!”

Jungwon squirmed in the midst of his friends, a frown tugging at his lips as he watched you walk away. His heart raced, the familiar urge to be near you pulling at him like a magnetic force. He tried to push through the throng of excited voices and laughter, reaching out for you with desperation, but his friends held him back, oblivious to the intensity of his need to follow.

“Come on, Jungwon! Celebrate with us!” one of them cheered, clapping him on the back, but Jungwon could barely muster a smile. His eyes remained locked on your retreating figure, the sight of you disappearing into the building stirring a pang of disappointment within him.

“Come on, Jungwon! You’ve got to tell us everything!” one of them exclaimed, laughing as they playfully tousled his hair. Another chimed in, “You’ve been a cat for days! We want the scoop!”

He felt the playful nudges and laughter of his friends, but they only served to heighten his frustration. No longer just a cat who sought warmth and comfort, he was a boy desperate for connection, with you. He bit his lip, glancing between your back and the cheerful faces surrounding him, feeling an overwhelming urge to break free.

When you finally disappeared through the doors, Jungwon���s heart sank. With a determined huff, he pushed past the clutches of his friends, murmuring a half-hearted excuse that went unnoticed amidst their excitement.

“Guys, I’ll be right back!” he called out, his voice firm as he took off in the direction you had gone.

He navigated the winding corridors of Hogwarts, his mind racing as he thought of all the things he wanted to say. I’m sorry for the chaos, he wanted to tell you. Thank you for changing me back, and more than anything, I love you.

However, as he rounded a corner near the Great Hall, he lost sight of you. The bustling crowd of students moved like a tide, and just like that, you were gone. A wave of defeat washed over him. He pushed through the throngs, glancing into classrooms and common areas, calling your name softly, but there was no response.

Frustration bubbled within him, mingling with disappointment. Why did I let them hold me back? he berated himself. He felt like a fool for not breaking away sooner, for not insisting on finding you right away.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned against the cool stone wall, he could picture the look of confusion on your face, the hurt in your eyes when you realized.

“I’ll find you tomorrow,” he promised himself, determination creeping back in. It would have to be enough for now. He knew he had to make it right, to explain everything and show you just how much he valued you.

Resolving to make a plan, Jungwon walked back to the common room, his mind swirling with ideas. He would catch you after class, or maybe in the courtyard where you often read. He’d find a way to make sure you heard him, no matter what it took. Tomorrow, he would not let anything—or anyone—get in the way of what he needed to say.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

The next day, the bustling halls of Hogwarts seemed to stretch endlessly as Jungwon searched for you, his heart pounding with anticipation. After your final class, he spotted you in the corridor, laughter spilling from your lips as you chatted with a few friends. His heart raced at the sight of you, and he felt a surge of determination.

Summoning every ounce of courage, he quietly approached from behind, his nerves buzzing. Before he could second-guess himself, he gently pulled you into an empty classroom, the door clicking shut behind you with a soft thud.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice steady yet filled with urgency, “we need to talk.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The moment felt charged, a whirlwind of emotions swirling between you. Jungwon took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve wanted to say this for so long,” he continued, stepping closer. “I love being with you. These past days, especially with everything that happened when I was… you know, a cat. I didn’t realize just how much I needed you.”

Your heart raced at his confession. “Jungwon, I… I didn’t know you felt that way,” you stammered, surprised by the warmth blooming in your chest. The memories of cuddling with him as a cat rushed back—his soft purrs, the way he’d nuzzle against you, how safe and happy he made you feel. “You showed me your vulnerable side. I cared for you so much, and I want to be with you too, but I need some time to process everything that happened.”

Jungwon’s expression softened, understanding flooding his eyes. “I get it,” he said gently, taking a step closer. “But I want you to know how I feel. I loved every moment we spent together, even when I was just a cat. You were there for me, and it felt so real. It’s like I could finally be myself around you.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, the sincerity behind them washing over you like a warm tide, glancing down at your feet for a moment, feeling the weight of your feelings pressing on your chest. “It was confusing at first. But seeing you back as Jungwon… it feels so right.”

Jungwon stepped even closer, his hand brushing against yours, sending a spark of electricity up your arm. “I care about you so much, Y/N. It’s like you’re my safe place, and I want to be able to share everything with you, the good and the bad.”

His sincerity wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you couldn’t help but lean closer, feeling drawn to him in ways you couldn’t explain. “I feel that way too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We can take it slow, see where this leads us without rushing. I just want to be with you, no matter the form it takes.”

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. You melted against him, feeling the tension dissolve in the comfort of his presence.

When you both pulled back slightly, Jungwon's expression turned serious. “If you ever feel unsure or need space, just tell me, okay? I want you to feel safe with me.”

You nodded, appreciating his sensitivity. “I promise.”

He smiled, a mixture of relief and affection lighting up his face.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

Over the next two days, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Every moment was filled with thoughts of Jungwon, replaying your conversation in that empty classroom. You knew you had to make a decision, and every time you thought of him, your heart swelled with a sense of belonging and excitement.

Finally, the day arrived when you couldn’t hold it in any longer. After your last class, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you made your way through the bustling halls of Hogwarts, searching for him. When you spotted Jungwon leaning against a wall, laughing with a couple of friends, your heart raced.

“Hey, can we talk?” you called, trying to sound casual, though your nerves were anything but.

His gaze shifted to you, and the moment he saw you, his smile widened. “Of course!” He excused himself from his friends and walked toward you, the laughter fading as anticipation filled the air.

You took a deep breath, glancing down momentarily to gather your thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about the other day,” you began, feeling your heart race. “And I realized… I want to be together.”

Jungwon’s eyes lit up with joy, and before you could react, he stepped forward and twirled you around in an ecstatic hug. “Really? Are you serious?” he exclaimed, laughter bubbling in his voice.

You laughed along, feeling weight lift off your shoulders as you embraced the happiness of the moment. When he set you down, he looked into your eyes, a mixture of surprise and delight on his face. “I can’t believe this!”

His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I just… I really like you, Jungwon. I’ve felt it for a while now.”

His expression softened as he stepped closer. “So, can I…?” He hesitated for a moment, then grinned cheekily. “Can I get a kiss?”

Your heart raced again, but you nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. You leaned in, and as your lips met, the world around you faded away. It was gentle at first, but as you melted into the kiss, it deepened, filled with all feelings you both shared.

When you pulled back, breathless and smiling, your thoughts suddenly turned to your brother. You remembered his protective stance, always claiming that no guy was good enough for you. The sudden wave of worry hit you, and you glanced down, biting your lip. “Um, so… about my brother…”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. “What about him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit sheepish. “He can be a bit… overprotective. He’s probably going to have a lot to say about us being together. I just… I hope he doesn’t freak out or anything.”

Jungwon chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think I can handle him. Besides, I’m the one who got turned into a cat. If anything, I should have some kind of clout, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “True, you do have a unique story. But still, I just don’t want him to think poorly of you.”

“Hey,” he said gently, lifting your chin so you met his gaze. “I promise I’ll do my best to win him over. I care about you, and I want him to see that. Plus, if he sees how happy you are, he might just come around.”

You nodded, comforted by his words. “You’re right."

With a playful grin, Jungwon wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Then let’s tackle this together. How about we talk to him after dinner? Just the three of us?”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Let’s do it.”

After dinner, you felt a mix of anticipation and nerves as you and Jungwon made your way to the courtyard to meet your brother. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the stone path as you approached the familiar spot where your brother usually liked to unwind.

He was leaning against a pillar, casually flipping through a book. When he noticed you both approaching, he closed it and set it aside, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “So, what’s the big news?”

You exchanged a glance with Jungwon, and he gave you a reassuring nod. “We wanted to talk to you about something important,” you began, your heart racing. “Jungwon and I are… well, we’re together now.”

Your brother’s expression shifted from curiosity to surprise, but instead of the angry outburst you feared, he broke into a smile. “Really? You two?”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. “Yeah, we just wanted you to know.”

To your astonishment, your brother’s smile grew wider. “Honestly, I couldn’t have picked a better guy for you. I trust Jungwon. He’s the only guy I know who’s worthy of you because I know he’ll treat you right.”

The weight lifted off your shoulders as joy washed over you. You turned to Jungwon, and without thinking, you both leaned in, sharing a sweet kiss under the moonlight. The moment was perfect—until your brother suddenly coughed, breaking the spell.

“Hey! No kisses in front of me!” he declared, mock annoyance in his tone, but there was a teasing glint in his eye.

You and Jungwon pulled back, laughter bubbling up between you. “Okay, okay,” you giggled, feeling warmth spread through you at your brother’s acceptance. “No kisses in front of you.”

With a playful grin, Jungwon stepped forward and pulled you into a warm hug. You melted into his embrace, feeling a sense of comfort and happiness enveloping you. “Thanks for being so cool about this,” Jungwon said softly, his breath tickling your ear.

Your brother crossed his arms, shaking his head in feigned disapproval. “Just keep the mushy stuff to a minimum around me, alright?”

You laughed again, feeling giddy. “We will, I promise.”

As you pulled back from the hug, you saw the genuine happiness in your brother’s eyes. “Just remember,” he added, a more serious tone creeping into his voice, "treat her right, alright?”

Jungwon nodded earnestly, a serious expression crossing his face. “I promise I will.”

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

Bonus!:

The day of one your brother's Quidditch match had arrived, and the atmosphere around the pitch was electric with excitement. You had made your way to the team tent, filled with an eagerness to support your brother. As you entered, the familiar scent of fresh grass and a hint of waxed wood filled the air, along with the chatter of the team gearing up for the game.

You found your brother pacing nervously inside the tent, his Quidditch gear scattered around him. The atmosphere was charged with excitement and anticipation, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. He looked up, surprise washing over his face when he saw you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

With a playful grin, you pulled out a bright yellow chicken costume from behind your back, waving it triumphantly. “I came to collect one of the favors you owe me!”

His eyes widened in disbelief, and he groaned dramatically. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re making me wear that? Right before the match?”

“Absolutely!” you teased, stifling a laugh. “A chicken mascot would really boost team morale. Just think of it as a strategic advantage.”

He shot you a look that could only be described as a mix of annoyance and resignation. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, snatching the costume from your hands. “Fine! But if I get ridiculed out there, I’m blaming you.”

“Hey, at least you’ll be memorable!” you shot back, unable to hold in your laughter as he started to put on the ridiculous outfit. The fluffy yellow feathers looked utterly absurd against his determined expression.

As he struggled to pull the costume over his Quidditch gear, you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Come on, embrace your inner chicken! You’re gonna be the star of the show!”

“I’m going to be the laughingstock of the school!” he retorted, but you could see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite the exasperation.

Once he finally managed to get the costume on, you took a step back to admire the spectacle. He looked utterly ridiculous, and you burst into laughter, doubling over at the sight. “You make a great chicken! You’re gonna fly out there and peck the competition!”

“Very funny,” he grumbled, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone as he glanced in the mirror. “Alright, let’s just get this over with.”

“Just remember,” you said, suppressing another laugh, “you’ve got a chicken in your corner cheering you on. You’ll win for sure!”

With that, he rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile on his face. “I better not regret this,” he muttered as he headed out of the tent, his confidence bolstered by your playful energy.

/ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

You and Jungwon stood in front of your brother, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “So, we have a bit of a favor to ask,” you said, trying to sound as innocent as possible despite the excitement bubbling up inside you.

Your brother looked at you skeptically. “What is it this time? Because I swear if it involves another chicken costume…”

“It’s nothing like that!” Jungwon interjected, stifling a laugh. “We want you to turn us into cats.”

Your brother blinked in disbelief, processing your request. “Seriously? You two want to be turned into cats? Why would you even want that?”

“Because it would be fun!” you replied, barely able to contain your excitement. “I promise, it’ll be worth it!”

He hesitated, clearly torn between disbelief and amusement. “And why would I even consider this?”

You exchanged a quick glance with Jungwon before speaking up again. “Remember that second favor you owe me. This counts, right?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Fine! But if this backfires, I’m holding you both responsible.”

“Thank you!” you both chimed, practically bouncing on your toes with excitement.

With a sigh, your brother pulled out his wand, muttering the incantation under his breath. A warm light enveloped you and Jungwon, and suddenly you felt yourself shrinking, your limbs transforming as your human forms faded away. When the light dimmed, you looked around with wide eyes, realizing you were both small, furry creatures now.

Jungwon turned to you, his eyes sparkling with delight, and let out a soft, inquisitive meow. You mirrored his expression, feeling the softness of your new form and the thrill of being a cat. You nuzzled against him, your whiskers brushing against his fur, and instinctively, you both began to purr.

Your brother, now looking utterly baffled, shook his head in disbelief. “You two really went through with it…” he muttered, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his voice. “Just be careful, okay?”

But before he could say anything else, you and Jungwon turned your attention back to each other. Without a second thought, you dashed over to Jungwon, who had already curled up on a nearby cushion. He looked up at you with bright eyes, and you couldn’t resist the urge to snuggle up against him. You nestled into his warm side, feeling the comforting rhythm of his purring resonate against you. He responded by wrapping his paws around you, drawing you closer.

As the two of you settled into a cozy heap, Jungwon began to groom you, his rough tongue lapping at your fur in gentle strokes. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of his actions. You felt safe and content, purring softly as he continued to lick your fur, making you feel warm and loved.

Drifting off to sleep, you felt Jungwon shift slightly, wrapping his body around yours as if to protect you. He looked down at you, his eyes full of affection, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. You were just two cats, snuggled together, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment as you drifted off to sleep in the comfort of each other's warmth.

[chilling-seavey]

Dreamland (ln4) - Part Two

↳ A/N Thank you to my girl @grandprixwinnerlandonorris for delivering me like 5000 pictures of Lando in a button up at my request and, as always, being the proofreader for this universe hehe

↳ [Loosely] Inspired By: 'Don't Wake Me Up' by Why Don't We

↳ Summary: With a freshly purchased copy of your most recent book in hand, Lando is one of the first in line for your book signing when your tour brings you to Bristol. Having dreamt about you for months, he’s more than nervous to actually speak to you in person but he certainly gets more than he bargained for

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 20.7k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, not elaborating on details here for the sake of spoilers!, dirty talk gets nasty, Lando's so incredibly down bad for a girl who doesn't know he exists

PART ONE

Lando stared at his reflection in the mirror as he tucked his button-up shirt into his black slacks, eyeing up each inch of himself for the uncountable time that morning. He tugged at the fabric of his shirt that was bordering on a size too small, hugging his torso just a little more than he'd like, silently willing it to not make him look absolutely ridiculous. He tried to take a few deep breaths as he fed his black belt into the loops on his pants and fastened the buckle at the front but even his hands were feeling a little shaky with nerves. 

As spring melted into summer, Lando’s semester was coming to an end just when your newest book tour was to begin. He had his eye out for any England dates the moment the tour was announced and much to his relief, there was a local date on the schedule. Much to his absolute horror, however, he had a final exam assigned that very same morning. With the help of his two closest internet friends, Alex and George, Lando planned that day down to the minute in order to attend his exam while still making the book signing in good enough time to get a good spot in line.

His 11:00 class was across campus and for the first time almost ever, Lando was the first one there. He looked far too dressed up for someone about to take a practical exam but he had some very important things to do right after class and thus was prepared to wear his best clothes no matter what. He had someone to impress, after all. 

By 2:00 on the dot, the exam was complete and Lando - who had been waiting impatiently at his desk with a finished exam in front of him - nearly ran out the door the moment they were dismissed and he threw his papers on the professor’s desk on the way past. The university hallways were annoyingly crowded and Lando was pushing past people to make it to the transit station down the street to catch the 2:16 bus, his backpack slung over one shoulder in his haste. 

It was a stunning day in comparison to England’s usually drizzly weather and the sun was tucked behind picturesque white clouds that made Lando feel like this entire day was a dream. He figured the weather cleared up into beautiful skies for the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was anxious to see you in person after so many long months of distant adoration. 

The bus was still at the stop when Lando ran across the street without a second glance to catch it, pulling his wallet out of his pocket as he did so and flashed the driver his transit pass as he hopped inside. Lando breathed out a soft ‘thank you’ to the driver for waiting for him and then he went to find a seat. The bus lurched forward and he caught himself on one of the poles before swinging himself into an empty aisle right by the large window to catch his breath. 

It was a bit of a drive into the city so Lando pulled out his phone and turned on his data to refresh his messages on Instagram. The group chat was waiting for him.

alex_albon: Good luck, mister accountant!  georgerussell63: Good luck mate! Get this shit out of the way and you’ll get the best reward later 😏 alex_albon: Hahahaha alex_albon: Mate are you done yet?? alex_albon: Did you make the bus?? georgerussell63: RUN LANDO RUN georgerussell63: Love how we don’t care about how his exam went, just that he catches this bus alex_albon: We have great priorities  georgerussell63: Yeah I don’t want this wedding suit I bought to go to waste y’know  alex_albon: Mate I’m literally so sad that we couldn’t go with him georgerussell63: I know georgerussell63: We look like shitty wingmen now alex_albon: Never! landonorris: MADE THE BUS!! landonorris: I don’t even remember what the fuck my exam was even about I was rushing but I made it landonorris: Waterstones, here I come!!!! alex_albon: YESSS!!! georgerussell63: LETS GOOOOO alex_albon: Fit pic?? What did you go with??

Lando glanced around him to make sure no one on the bus was looking as he snapped a picture of his chest and lap to show his outfit to his two friends. 

landonorris: *sent an image* georgerussell63: Yesss mans looks dashing alex_albon: If she doesn’t jump at you across that table, there is something wrong with her landonorris: Oh my god there’s nothing wrong with her landonorris: Just wanna make sure I look my best landonorris: And she said once she likes guys in dress pants so… georgerussell63: You wore dress pants landonorris: Lol yep alex_albon: You’re a complete simp, Lan alex_albon: Love you for that landonorris: I just hope I don’t freeze up or embarrass myself landonorris: I’m going in all alone here lol alex_albon: You literally have all the backup from us through your phone georgerussell63: Definitely!  georgerussell63: What’s your game plan anyway?? landonorris: Idk really landonorris: I don’t want to come across too fan-y landonorris: Tell her she’s a literal genius  landonorris: Tell her that she’s stunning landonorris: That her books are the only ones that I actually read alex_albon: And that you want her to mother your children georgerussell63: HAHA landonorris: If it moulds smoothly into conversation, sure LMAO landonorris: I’m just trying to not get my hopes up for earth shattering conversation or anything but it’s hard georgerussell63: Just be confident and be you georgerussell63: You’re literally a great guy so she’s bound to see that

Lando glanced up from his phone for a moment as the warmth of the afternoon sun hit his face and he peered out the window at the busy city traffic that had slowed the bus to a near stop. 

landonorris: Bruh we just hit traffic alex_albon: Oh shit how far are you georgerussell63: Can you walk it? landonorris: No way still too far

Lando pressed his face against the glass to attempt to see farther down the street if the traffic would clear but it wasn’t showing much at his angle. 

landonorris: Shit I’m literally panicking landonorris: I need to see her today like I can’t miss this georgerussell63: Panicking won’t help just take some breaths alex_albon: I’m putting so many positive vibes into the universe right now georgerussell63: You’ll get there, don’t worry landonorris: The signing is over at 4 and it’s already pushing 3 landonorris: Oh my God I’m going to cry alex_albon: Noooo! No crying no crying alex_albon: Traffic always feels like it takes longer than it actually does georgerussell63: Yeah! Just go over your gameplan a bit! Distract yourself alex_albon: You have the book with you already right landonorris: Yeah ofc landonorris: Bought hardcover off her amazon site last week landonorris: Honestly this was her best one yet georgerussell63: You say that about every book she releases lol landonorris: Mate no this time I mean it landonorris: There was this chapter that was so fucking hot I had to take a cold shower after georgerussell63: PFFF omfg  alex_albon: No spoilers!! I haven’t read it yet landonorris: Haha okok sorry landonorris: Hurry up though because I want to talk about it with someone georgerussell63: Mate I graduate in a week and then I’ll read it I swear alex_albon: We didn’t have to rush to read it because we’re not the ones about to MEET HER georgerussell63: AYYYY landonorris: 🥰🥰

The next stop that was called through the bus speakers was Lando’s - much to his relief - and in quick surprise he reached up to pull the cord to request the stop. He slid his phone back in his pocket and stood up with a secure hand on the bar as he walked towards the doors before the bus had even stopped, already far past impatient to get to his destination already. When the doors slid open, he called his thank you to the bus driver and hopped out onto the busy Bristol sidewalks in the afternoon sun.

landonorris: brb finally on foot now

Since living outside the city for most of his life, Lando was familiar with his way around and he barely even needed the directions from his phone to help guide him towards the nearest Waterstones bookstore. Well, also partially due to the fact that he had gone over his route almost every day since the book tour dates and locations were announced. 

Lando reached the book store just after 3:00 and there was still an insanely long line looping from the front doors of the store and down the sidewalk. Lando paused in place for a moment, his heart sinking at the time in comparison to the number of people still waiting, and it wasn’t until a stranger bumped him out of the way that he snapped back into place. With a shaky breath, Lando hurried down the line and took spot at the end behind two girls who were about his age as well. They each held copies of the new release and were flipping through it together and talking between them about the plot. 

Lando cleared his throat nervously and leaned slightly towards them, “Excuse me, this is the line for the singing, right?”

They both looked back at him with smiles suddenly flat as if his interruption was distasteful, and they gave him a look up and down, lingering on his scuffed up white Vans on his feet. 

“Yeah.” one answered finally. 

Lando pulled a tight smile and nodded once, “Great. Thanks.”

He felt a little stupid standing in a line of teenage and young adult women as the only few males were so clearly only there to accompany their girlfriends. But the momentary out-of-place feeling was soon replaced easily by nervous excitement as Lando caught a glimpse of the sign on the front window of the store that showed your most recent professional headshot and the announcement of the book release and signing; “TODAY ONLY!” it read. 

Lando was nearly silently begging to make it inside, to at least get a glimpse of you in the flesh, although a small part of him was rising with so much nervousness that he kind of hoped he wouldn’t have to face you. He didn’t want to run away now, not when he came so far. 

landonorris: *sent an image* landonorris: In line now!! Look how fucking long this thing is alex_albon: She’s going to be saying that about you someday! georgerussell63: ALEX LMAO  landonorris: Pfjfjf stop omg landonorris: I’m literally the only guy here though georgerussell63: That’s good georgerussell63: Makes you stand out! alex_albon: More those stunning good looks already do georgerussell63: You are damn right, Albono 😌🔥 landonorris: I’m so fucking nervous boys georgerussell63: Blimey you know he’s serious when our jokes don’t make him laugh alex_albon: Focus on that confidence!! You got this mate

The line was moving slowly but surely and Lando was soon stepping into the front vestibule of the store. He swung his backpack around to unzip it and pull out his hardcover copy of the recent release and then zipped his bag back up again. His was one of the only few hardcovers in line - he noted that the girls directly in front of him and behind him had paperbacks - and that fact brought a strange sense of pride to his consciousness. There weren’t too many people in line behind him as time was drawing closer to closing but the distance that Lando still had to the signing table was vast and his nervousness of meeting you was starting to mould into nervousness that he wouldn’t meet you. 

He was too anxious to even check his group chat messages and he tried to stay as in the moment as possible, rising up on his tiptoes to see if he could get a glimpse of the table where you had been sitting for the last three hours. Other fans rushed past him on their way out the door, bearing signed copies of books and over-the-table selfies on their phone screens and Lando tried not to let the jealousy overcome him. Impatient jealousy wasn’t a good look and Lando tugged anxiously at the front of his collared shirt a little to get some air across his body, hoping he wasn’t about to nervous-sweat through his shirt. That would have been embarrassing.

The line inched up some more and as Lando’s spot moved into the store completely and past the main aisle towards the lounge, he was able to spot you in the distance. It was almost like he scared himself at the fact that he saw you and he dropped back down onto his flat feet from his tiptoes with a soft gasp, eyes wide, heart racing. The two girls in front of him gave him a weird look before turning back to their conversation. After his initial shock, he rose up onto his tiptoes again to see over the shelves of books he would never read across the store and let his eyes find your table at the head of the line. 

You were in a black blazer and an emerald green buttoned blouse and your hair fell in natural waves over your shoulders and Lando swore to himself that you looked even more beautiful in person than on Instagram. He clutched your novel to his chest and rested back on his feet again, biting his smitten grin to the carpeted floor of the bookstore. He didn’t want to look away from you as if he had to soak up each second like it was precious. He didn’t have long and who knew when he was going to see you again. 

As quarter to four approached, the line felt no shorter and Lando was getting antsy and his feet were getting sore from waiting around for so long. He was about at the spot where he didn’t have to lean to get a good look at you and his eyes stared right at you almost without blinking like the simple sight of you put him in a trance. It almost felt like he was dreaming. 

You were so happy, smiling at every person who passed over their copy of your book for a signature and talking to them graciously and modestly accepting compliments. Lando swore your polite little laugh was the sweetest sound and he was completely yearning to just get to the front of the line already. 

But then another woman approached you at your table and leaned down to whisper something to you as you smiled in parting with the girl who just received her book back. You nodded to the woman who Lando recognised as your assistant from a few of your Instagram stories and then you stood up from your chair to address the crowd. 

“Sorry, guys, I know you’ve been waiting a while but I have to take a call really quickly. Give me a few minutes…I’ll be right back!” 

Lando swore his heart nearly stopped in the momentary fear that your initial apology was about to be followed with a ‘times up’ but he took a deep breath and checked the time. It was 3:53 but he would wait for you for as long as you needed, he didn’t mind one bit. 

He opened Instagram again for the first time in a little bit and checked the messages from his friends,

alex_albon: Any updates for us?? georgerussell63: Yeah how close are you? alex_albon: Lando?? georgerussell63: Omg he’s probably talking to her right now alex_albon: He probably is  alex_albon: I’m literally so excited for him georgerussell63: This is insane!!!! landonorris: She’s so beautiful landonorris: Not at the front yet but close alex_albon: Jeez that’s a long line georgerussell63: It’s almost 4…are they going to cut you off?? landonorris: Idk idk idk landonorris: 

Lando’s attention was pulled from his messages to the conversation of the girls who stood in front of him in line. 

“We’ve literally been waiting for an hour and she just blows us off for a fucking phone call.”

“What a bitch.”

“Everyone with a blue check on Instagram is the fucking same.”

“So entitled, honestly, she takes our money and then dips.”

Lando spoke up before he could even think, jumping strongly in protectiveness, “Hey. Don’t say that.” 

The girls turned to him with mirrored expressions of annoyance and surprise at his sudden interruption. 

Lando continued, “She literally just had to take a call. Can you give her a few minutes? She’s been sitting here all day for us.” 

One of the girls snorted in sarcastic amusement at Lando’s defence, “Okay, whatever.”

The other added, “Do what you want, but I’m not waiting here like a fucking lameass follower for her to take a phone call like she’s entitled to make us stand around like sheep.” 

They both didn’t give Lando a second look before they were stepping out of line and walking right out of the store. A few more people did the same as 4:00 came and went and it honestly shocked Lando that they weren’t ready and willing to sit by and wait a few more minutes for her…shocked that a few people thought it was a ruse that she played off to leave early. But Lando waited even as the line thinned. He would wait until store closing if he had to. 

By the time you returned to the table, there were only six more people in front of him and one behind him and Lando was trying so hard not to grin ear to ear at simply the sight of you. As if nothing was different and the line wasn’t measly now, you still looked just as content there at your table with a sharpie in hand, offering casual conversation to each person who approached. 

It was nearly 4:30 by the time Lando was next in line and as if reality hit him all at once, his feet wouldn’t move the moment your eyes locked with his. 

“Hey.” you said sweetly. 

Lando’s left foot scuffed over the carpet in an attempt to walk and then he forced himself towards you, “Hey.” 

Despite his racing heart, he was grinning so wide and his obvious excitement had you smiling right back from your chair as you held out your hand to take his book. 

“How are you?” he asked nervously and passed over his copy of the novel. 

“I am doing well, thanks so much for asking.” you replied easily. 

He watched you carefully as you set the novel down so gently on the wooden table top, perfectly square with the edge. 

“A hardcover. They’re my favourite too.” you said with a smile and brushed your hand over the crisp clean cover and then opened it to the first blanket page. “Haven’t seen many of these today.”

“I noticed.” Lando said. “I don’t know why because your hardcover designs are just so fucking stunning. I don’t know who’d choose a paperback.”

You chuckled softly, “Exactly. Glad to know someone has taste.” 

“It’s hard not to when you are literally a genius.”

His copy of your novel left open to the inside cover in front of you, you shared casual conversation for a moment - something he noticed about you was that you never rushed anyone when they were at the table with you. Lando didn’t want to take up too much of your time either, you were already over your time limit. But you listened politely to him, sharpie tucked between your fingers and wrist resting on the open book as he spoke. 

“I don’t read, like, ever…but the moment I skimmed the first page of your first novel I was completely hooked. I couldn’t tell you a single thing about any other book in this entire store. You just write in a way that completely speaks to me like nothing else ever has.”

Lando didn’t even know what he was saying as his words tumbled from his lips for him. 

“That is so kind.” you smiled bashfully. “I’m glad I could offer you some kind of entertainment in a style that you don’t normally turn to.”

“Entertainment? God, you offer me entire worlds. I wish I had an outlet as strong and promising as yours.” 

“What do you do as your outlet?”

Lando hadn’t expected to talk about himself but of course he was going to answer your question,

“Oh, uh…golf, I guess? Racing? Video games…”

It sounded so stupid coming out of his mouth as he said it - how incredibly lame and boring. 

“Racing? Like, cars?”

Lando’s smile brightened, staring right back at your pretty face, “Yeah, something like that.”

“That’s impressive…and it could make for an interesting plot. Maybe I should write a book about that…you might have just inspired me.” you wagged the end of your sharpie at him with a mischievous grin. 

Lando’s cheeks turned a fierce pink and he scoffed bashfully, “Nah.”

“I mean it! If I ever need any race-related questions answered for research purposes, I know who to call.”

Lando laughed lightly, “Yeah, for sure.”

You glanced back down to the book and tapped the blank page awaiting your pen, “Who am I making this out to?”

“Lando.” 

“Lando.” you repeated in the most gentle tone that it nearly made his knees weak. He had dreamt about how his name would sound coming from your lips for so long but hearing it directed at him so softly, so tenderly, he had to refrain from clutching his hand to his heart in sheer adoration. He also had to refrain from imagining you breathing it into the air just like that in bed but that was a bit more dramatic. 

“How’s your day been? I got so excited about the hardcover I forgot to ask.” you chuckled as he watched you sign his name in silver sharpie on the dark inside page and scribbled a little message before signing it yourself at the bottom. 

“Oh, my day is amazing now.” Lando said easily, “Bristol is usually so disgustingly dreary but I’m glad it’s sunny for you.”

“I’ve heard it’s usually quite rainy. Guess it’s a bit of luck then.” you smiled up at him. 

You closed the cover of his copy of your novel and held it back out to him. 

“Thank you so much.” he rushed out as he took it back. “I’m sorry you had to stay after your time.”

“Oh my gosh,” you waved your hand like it was no big deal, “there’s nothing I love more than this so it’s my pleasure. Plus staying around longer means I got to meet you, so…”

Lando literally blushed pink so obviously that you could see the hint of colour across his cheeks and his little bashful smile had you grinning up at him. It wasn’t often you had boys come out to see you and certainly not the likes of interested and attractive young men who actually read your content. It nearly made you feel just as pink in the cheeks too. 

“Did you want a selfie or something?” you asked. 

Lando stumbled over words for a moment as he had completely forgotten that he could ask that and he pulled out his phone, “Yeah, sure.” 

He carefully hid the fact that you were his wallpaper from your sight as he opened his camera app and turned to have his back to you. You leaned up to rest slightly over the table and smiled to the camera as he clicked a few pictures. 

“Oh, I look…like shit.” he mumbled to himself as he turned back around to face you once more and you sat down. 

He hadn’t expected you to hear but you did so you offered an honest polite, “You don’t look like shit at all, I think you look really good.” 

Lando literally breathed out a shocked, “Oh my gosh.” 

You giggled softly at his surprised expression. 

“Th-Thank you.” he stumbled out and petted a habitual hand over his hair-sprayed curls as he looked down at his outfit. 

“I love the slacks.” you gestured across the table. 

Lando nearly lost it at the fact that you were basically staring at his dick and he held the hardcover book in front of himself casually, and answered with a passé, “Thought I’d actually dress a little nice for your event.”

“Yeah? Well you look very nice.” you complimented, “A very successful choice.” 

“Thanks.”

You held up your index finger to him, “One sec.”

The one person behind him was still waiting close by and you held out your hand welcoming them to come over. Lando shifted to the side a little and tried to control the heat of his cheeks as you took the next person’s name. It was a mother waiting for the signing as a gift for her daughter so she didn't really need to stick around long after simply getting a signature and after a few shared pleasantries, the lady was off and Lando was the only one left. 

“Sorry, I just thought I’d get that poor mother on her way.” you chuckled. 

“For sure.” Lando smiled tightly. 

“Looks like that’s my day then.” you sighed, stretching your arms above your head for a moment, and then leaned under the table to pull out an empty cardboard box. You started to load your leftover copies into it - only a few remaining - and Lando jumped at his opportunity. 

“Do you need help packing up?”

Surprised at his offer, you glanced back up at him with a little laugh, “I’m not going to make you do my work.”

“I really don't mind. I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

You thought for a moment and Lando nearly held his breath in anticipation for your answer. 

Finally, “Alright…if you’re sure.” 

He honestly grinned and tucked his book and his backpack on the ground carefully beside one of the table legs and started to stack up the remaining few novels as you tidied your pamphlets and extra sharpies. Your hired assistant took the half filled box across the store to return it to the cashier for re-stocking, finally giving you and Lando a moment just the two of you on opposite sides of the now empty table. 

You stood from your chair and tucked it back under while you checked your phone habitually and Lando picked up his things from the ground. He tucked his book in front of his slacks again coolly. 

“Where are you headed now? More publicity meetings?” Lando asked. 

You glanced up at him as you slid your phone into your purse with a sigh, “Nope. Dinner and then hotel. Quiet evening for one tonight.”

“Your assistant doesn’t join you?”

You chuckled softly and picked up your tote bag to sling it over your arm, “No she’s kinda older than me so she does her own thing. I don’t mind. Means I can explore the city as I wish.” 

“Do you…want some pointers on the best places in Bristol? I’m kind of an expert.” Lando offered. 

“You want to be my food tour guide?” you chuckled, “I was just going to eat at the McDonalds down the street. I’m not much of an extensive-palette kind of eater.”

“Oh, neither am I.” Lando agreed quickly, passing off the fact that he already knew that about you quickly, “But if you’re in Bristol, you gotta do it the right way. You like Italian?” 

Your eyes narrowed at him in thought and you cocked your head to the side slightly, a smile teasing at your lips, “My favourite.” 

“Then you have to try Giovanni’s. It’s not far from here. Like a kilometre north or so. Their pizza is, like, incredible.” 

You contemplated his offer with a casual, “Just a kilometre from here?”

“Yeah. You can’t miss it. Any taxi driver will know if you just give them the name.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.” Lando swayed onto the balls of his feet and then back, his nervous eyes lingering on your unreadable expression of amusement as you stared back at him. He pressed his luck, “I can…show you if you want.”

You smiled at him softly as you looked at him down the bridge of your nose, “I dunno…I don’t really know you.” 

“You know my name. What else is there to know?”

You laughed lightly, “You could be a murderer.” 

“So could you.”

“Touché.” 

Lando figured he was grasping for straws with his offer and hardly even took himself seriously until suddenly you were sitting across from him at a table for two at Giovanni’s Italian Restaurant. He hardly remembered the taxi ride from the bookstore or even you agreeing to have dinner with him honestly and part of him felt so hazy like this was some sort of cruel realistic dream. His phone was the last thing on his mind but he managed to send a quick update to the group chat as the hostess led you to your table. 

landonorris: Giovanni’s  landonorris: dinner landonorris: ttyl

With his phone on silent, he was ignorant to his best friends’ spam of confused messages as they knew he should have been finished with the signing by then and they had yet to receive proper updates of how it went. Usually Lando messaged them while he was eating his meals so his sudden disappearance was certainly odd. 

But how could he even think about looking at his phone when he had you sitting across from him in the warm light of the cozy Italian restaurant to look at. It was no fancy venue but it was better than a McDonalds and Lando had to constantly remind himself that this wasn’t a date but this also wasn’t a dream. 

You looked so casual skimming the menu, tucking your hair behind your ear before resting the side of your finger against your lips in thought. They were little habits that social media didn’t permit him to see and now he just couldn’t get enough of you, sitting right in front of him in your business casual outfit and free flowing hair. He felt greedy for wanting you closer. 

The waiter approached the table to take drink orders and you glanced up to place yours first, “Whatever your house wine is…I’ll have a glass of that, please and thank you.”

“May I see your ID?”

“Of course.” you fished it out of your purse and passed it to the waiter to double check. 

When he handed it back to you and turned to Lando, Lando shifted nervously. 

“Just…a water, thanks.” he asked. Playing it safe. 

You tucked your ID back into your purse and offered a casual conversation, “Maybe I should have had water too but after a full day of work, I think I deserve a drink.”

“You do.” Lando chuckled, “You deserve to celebrate.”

“If I used that excuse anything like this signing happened, I may be considered to have a drinking problem.” 

Lando chuckled lightly, sharing in your smile, and when you turned back to your menu, he kept staring at you. 

“You said the pizza is good here, right?”

He hummed in agreement as he rested his elbows on the table and his chin in his hand and shamelessly kept his eyes on your entire being. The warm light looked so good on you and it took a lot out of him to not think about salacious thoughts that often rose to the surface when he stared at a picture of you for too long. He was just lucky that the table covered enough of his lap.

You glanced over at him with your offer, “Do you want to share one?” 

As if in kindergarten again, the concept of sharing brought a flutter to his heart, “Yeah, sure. That sounds great.”

The waiter soon returned and you let Lando choose the pizza to order and with that placed, you were left with your drinks and a moment of silence. You sipped your wine and he sipped his water, keeping his eyes on the table. 

“Did you not want something better than water?” you asked. 

Lando shifted in his chair and chuckled awkwardly, “Uh, no, that’s okay. I’m not much of a drinker…don’t really know what to order that won’t taste like shit.”

Your eyes widened, “Shit, oh my God, wait, you are of age, aren’t you?”

“I’m twenty.” Lando assured you quickly.

You set your hand to your chest, “Jesus, okay, good, I almost had a heart attack there…I saw the frightful headlines already.” 

“Like what?” Lando laughed, “Calling you a cougar?”

“Oh, gross.” you shuttered, “Yeah, prying on the youth of my following.”

Lando rested his chin in his hand again and he smiled over at you, “Nope, I’m perfectly legal.”

“Good.” you chuckled. You glanced around and then slid your glass across the table to him, “Try some if you want.”

Lando’s eyes went wide and he sat up a bit straighter, “You sure?” 

“Yeah.”

Lando sent you a small smile across the table and he lifted the wine glass from the table and took a sip. He licked his lips as he set it back down and you left it between you to share. 

You smiled warmly over at him. He wanted to look back at you but your lingering stare made him nervous and he sat with his hands folded on his lap with his gaze downcast to the tabletop. The restaurant bustled around you with other patrons talking and cutlery clinking against plates but Lando felt like the two of you were in your own little bubble. 

Breaking the silence between you, you spoke, “Do you perm your hair?”

Lando’s head snapped up to look over at you in surprise, “What?”

You gestured across the table to him, “The curls? Is that your natural hair? It’s a really nice style on you.”

Lando was speechless for a moment, mouth literally parted slightly in shock, and when he regained himself, he spoke his honest confession to you, “Yeah. Yeah, this is my natural hair. I’m surprised you like it.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Why surprised?”

“I dunno,” Lando mumbled, tracing the rim of his water glass with his finger, “I figured you were, like, not really into the messy curls kinda look.”

“Why?” a smirk tugged at your lips, “Because of my boyfriend?”

Lando looked to his plate without a word as his heart clenched with that awful tightness that came with the heartache of the mention of your relationship. He was hoping you wouldn’t bring him up - guess it was too good to be true.

“Wanna know a secret?” you rested your forearms on the table to lean towards him, “I trust you.”

He glanced back up at you curiously and nodded lightly, hazel eyes wide with wonder of what you were going to admit to him. 

“He’s not actually my boyfriend. It’s a PR relationship.” 

Lando could have fucking rejoiced out loud in that moment and he audible sighed in near relief as he slouched back in his chair, “Oh my gosh, I knew something was fishy.” 

“We were dating for real but when it kind of fell off, our managers kind of just said we should keep it going because the followers shipped us or whatever the hell. I’m never around him if we can help it. It’s just awkward now.” 

Lando, surged with a strange feeling of protectiveness, leaned over the table himself too, “Why would they make you do that if it makes you uncomfortable?”

“I dunno. It’s fine though. My readership goes up from overlap with his fans and whatever so the selfish part of me benefits.” you chuckled with a shrug. 

“But you can’t publicly date then? Since the world thinks you’re taken?” 

“No, but that’s okay.” you waved your hand casually as if to brush it off, “I’m kinda too busy for all that right now with my book tour and stuff.”

You both reached for the glass of wine at the same time and shared nervous giggles when your hands brushed. You offered him the next sip and he ignored the warm reminisce of your touch as he lifted the glass to his lips and sipped the bitter woodsy red wine before passing it over to you. He couldn’t tell if his cheeks were red from simply being around you or if they were red from the bit of alcohol but you were no different. There was something so intriguing to you about Lando, this random young man who lined up for your book signing and seemed to care far too strongly about you and your work for his own good. It flattered you greatly and you didn’t want to see him go. 

By the time your pizza had arrived and you were well into casual dinner conversation, any hints of shyness had disappeared as you were both falling into comfort in each other’s presence…maybe the wine helped a little with that, just enough to take the edge off. Lando was talking about his degree he was working towards and life at college while you shared the best stories of how many times you were declined trying to get published for the first time. With only just less than a year between you, you had quite a bit in common from growing up and although life took you in different paths, it was interesting to hear the other side of things. You had to admit it was a nice change from the common whiny influencers you had gotten too used to sharing conversations with. 

Lando could draw you in with just his voice, soft yet just perfectly deep, he was only enticing you more and more with each sentence. Not to mention the way he spoke about your writing like he was just as proud of it as you were, rambling on for so long about each book, each character, each deeper meaning, and you went back and forth about your writing until the pizza was gone and the shared glass of wine was empty and the sun had gone down over Bristol. 

The waiter set the bill on the table between you, tucked neatly in a leather pouch. You reached for your purse but Lando was already grabbing the bill and giving it a skim over. 

“I got it.” you offered. 

“No, it’s okay.” Lando reached into his backpack that was resting at the foot of the table beside him and he pulled out his wallet with his credit card. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can pay for dinner.” you chuckled. 

Lando smiled boastfully over at you, “Nope. My city, you’re a guest. I’m paying.”

“Well then I wouldn’t have ordered such an expensive glass of wine!” you tisked. 

“Then it was very good that we shared it!” Lando whispered across the table at you as the waiter returned with the debit machine. 

You only smiled at him and shook your head in defeat as Lando paid the bill on his student income and he did so proudly, without hesitation. When the waiter left once again and wished you both a pleasant night, you thanked him and then looked across the table to each other. 

Lando’s heart ached slightly at the thought of having to say goodbye as the night came to an early conclusion but he smiled softly at you, ignorant to how you were thinking the exact same thing. 

“I’m just going to sneak off to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” you said. 

Lando nodded you off and watched you walk across the still busy restaurant to the washrooms. He finally pulled his phone from his pocket for the first time all evening, having missed an unreadable amount of pestering messages from his two best friends. He only took the time to read the most recent two,

alex_albon: Lando what the fuck mate where are you?? It’s almost 7 georgerussell63: Holding back the updates is one thing but let us know if you are at least back at your dorm landonorris: I took her for dinner landonorris: Can’t really talk but I swear I’ll tell you everything the second I leave georgerussell63: WHAT alex_albon: ARE YOU JOKING?? landonorris: IM LITERALLY NOT JOKING landonorris: WE SHARED WINE AND EVERYTHING alex_albon: HOLY SHIT LAN georgerussell63: WAIT IM LITERALLY FREAKING OUT georgerussell63: How did that happen??? Oh my GOD MATE your plan literally WORKED alex_albon: Get her number!! Or at least her follow on ig! landonorris: I'm gonna try

When he saw you emerging from the bathroom again he typed a quick reply to his friends before locking his phone again and tucked it into his pocket. 

landonorris: Gtg talk later

You returned to the table and sat back down, sending him a polite smile as you did so. Always one to take notice of every little thing about you, Lando silently noted your tidied up hair and re-applied lipstick and his heart did a little jump at the concept that maybe you tried to look good for him. 

“What’s your plan for the rest of the night?” you asked casually. 

Lando shrugged, “Nothing. I was just going to go back to my dorm and make dinner by myself and eat it by myself and watch Netflix by myself.”

“Wow, our plans sounded really similar then.” you teased. 

“Yeah, apparently.” Lando chuckled. 

You both hesitated a moment, glancing out towards the front windows of the restaurant that looked out over the darkening city streets of Bristol. Lando felt at a loss for words, nervous suddenly, and he was thankful to still have his water on the table as he took a long drink. He was just so handsome to you and only seemed more so as the night went on from being the hesitant fanboy at your book signing to the young man you shared a glass of wine with at dinner. 

Lando looked back at you and you shared tight, slightly awkward smiles as if neither of you wanted to say goodbye first. You weren’t someone to often go out with strangers so this was uncharted territory for you and Lando seemed just as uncertain of himself in a similar sense. You just kind of wanted to see how far you could push it without crossing boundaries. 

“Listen,” you cleared your throat bravely, looking right at him with a hopeful smile, “I dunno if you’re comfortable with this but…if you want, you can come back to my hotel with me. Maybe we could stick with our individual ‘watch Netflix’ plans but…together.” 

“Really?” Lando’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“If you want to.”

“Yes. Absolutely.” he assured you almost quickly. 

“Okay.” you bit back a smile. “I’ll call an Uber.” 

“Sweet.” Lando grinned, although he had to turn away from smiling too wide. 

Maybe this was his chance, he thought, to actually make a bit of a move; why else would you be inviting him to your private hotel room after all? This was the last thing he had prepared for that morning and he had no clue what he was going to do with himself if anything went any farther than even a kiss. He didn’t want to absolutely embarrass himself in any way, certainly not around you. His inexperience was apparent and he was just hoping he could play it off enough to not look like a clumsy idiot. 

Waiting at the curb for your Uber, Lando was standing right at your side. He intentionally stood close to you until he could almost convince himself to reach out and brush his fingers over yours if he really wanted to. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and your purse and tote were on your opposite arm from him, your gaze looking back and forth down the street for the arrival of your Uber. Lando kept staring at you in the city light, disbelieving that he was really standing right there with you and about to go back to your hotel after a dinner for two. Life was unreal in that moment. 

His eyes drifted down your side to where your hand rested casually at your side and he just had to reach out and brush his pinky against yours. You glanced over at him with a small smile and nudged him in return. 

“You probably hear this a lot,” Lando mumbled, “but you’re so beautiful.” 

His gentle words left an unmissable flutter in your heart and you bit your lip as you stared right back at him. Sure, you had been privy to bountiful comments on social media or haphazard compliments in passing over the last while you had been in the media spotlight, but none that sounded as genuine as Lando’s just did. 

It was out of your mouth before you could think, “Do you mean it?”

Lando was taken back by your confirmation as if he couldn’t imagine you or anyone not knowing, “Yeah. Of course, I mean it. You’re literally the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Your Instagram does not do you enough justice because holy shit…” 

He faded out when he caught himself rambling but you just smiled in near adoration at his sweet complimenting words that went straight to your heart and the flutter that warmed deep within your body. You didn’t want to admit that a near stranger was turning you on but he was so polite and genuine and handsome and you couldn’t help it. 

“Can I kiss you, Lando?” 

His breath nearly shuttered in his chest with the suddenness of his gasp, and he stumbled out a promised, “Y-Yeah-”

On the nearly empty quiet city street, you reached your hand up to link your finger in the collar of his shirt and you pulled him even closer. Lando wasn’t a stranger to kissing but he certainly hadn’t overhyped a kiss as much as he had in his thoughts about his first kiss with you. When your lips met for a moment, you both stood perfectly still as if to savour it, as if to not cross any unspoken lines between you. You were still strangers after all. 

Lando’s fingers ghosted hesitantly over your waist as his lips locked with yours for a few long seconds and then pulled back just long enough to go in for one more together. The plushness of his sweet lips had your stomach in eager knots but you forced yourself into restraint as you broke your kiss after only a few seconds and rested your hand down against his chest, feeling his heavy heartbeat under your palm. 

“Wow….” Lando breathed out of your kiss. 

His eyes found yours under the streetlights and he licked his lips free of the taste of you left behind, lingering with the bitter reminisce of rich wine. He was thankful you were focused on his face because he no longer had your book in his hand to cover the front of his slacks that were now feeling much tighter around the crotch. It was pathetic really, how he got hard so fast and from so little, but to be fair he had been dreaming about that very moment for months. 

You took your hand from his chest with a cheeky little smile of your own and turned back to the road as your Uber approached. Driven by greed, Lando reached out and linked his pinky in yours, just to keep you close as long as he could. You glanced back at him with a small smile before getting into the Uber and he followed behind you eagerly. 

You knew to be discreet in public since your image was only growing with passing days so you had to let go of his hand when you got into the Uber, being extra cautious as the driver kept glancing in the rear view mirror at you. Lando clutched his backpack to his lap, arms wrapped around it, and his gaze focused all on you, not even bothering to be discreet about it. He was in complete awe of you but so innocent and ignorant to the tightrope walk it was to be in the public eye. To him, he could have said or done anything right there in the back of the car but you were silently praying he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. 

Lando liked to think he could read you well and your obvious tension the moment you stepped in the Uber had him on high alert. It was as if a switch had flipped in your persona and although you made sure to send him a small reassuring smile, you were clearly putting up a divider between you two. It made him nervous, treading in uncertain waters. 

It was a fifteen minute drive to your hotel, crossing over the river that ran through the city and past the bookstore that only three hours before he was lining up cluelessly for your book signing. Lando swore this was a dream and his lips tingled with desire to kiss you again, to get his hands on you properly like he had always imagined. You looked so pretty in the passing city lights and he was so fucking hard. 

When the Uber pulled up to the front of the hotel, you thanked the driver politely and you both climbed out of the backseat. You hopped up onto the curb with him and led the way towards the front doors of the Marriott guided by the red outdoor carpet. Lando felt like a true vip…even though he was embarrassingly trying to hide the obvious bulge in his slacks that he was surprised you were yet to notice. Gladly surprised, however. 

At his side when you walked through the sliding glass doors, you whispered, “Don’t make it obvious.”

Lando nearly stumbled over the front carpet in surprise, “Make what obvious?”

“That we’re anything apart from, like, business partners.” you mumbled. “Don’t do anything to give anyone ideas.”

Lando shook his head quickly, his heart racing in his chest that maybe you thought you had something to hide with him, “Of course. Of course.”

The man behind the front desk glanced up as you walked in and he greeted you both politely. You offered him a just as pleasant greeting before walking as casually as you could towards the elevator bay. Lando couldn’t hide behind his backpack and still make himself look passé and it wasn’t until you were both safely alone in the elevator that he felt like he could breathe. 

“To the outside world I have a boyfriend, y’know.” you explained, pressing the button for the sixth floor, “So bringing some random guy back to my hotel room can be seen as a little suspicious.”

“Yeah.” Lando agreed coolly as the door slid shut behind you and he looked up to the small screen that counted each floor passing by. He was desperate to figure out a way to tame his little situation before you noticed and it got embarrassing. The only bad thing about wearing dress slacks was that it made it so obvious. 

You glanced over at him, a good few inches of space lingering between you, “You okay?”

Lando met your gaze cluelessly, that haze over his face as if he were in disbelief that this was real but then looked away again, “Yeah.”

“You got quiet on me.” you pointed out. “You can dip out whenever you want…if you’re uncomfortable or just wanting to go. I won’t be upset.”

Lando looked back at you quickly, “No, I don’t want to leave at all.” 

“Okay.” you nodded gently, almost fearing that he was lying to you. 

He could see that you were overthinking his answer so he told himself to suck it up and confess his truth, “I just really want to kiss you again…and I didn’t know if I should.”

“You can.” you offered as casually as you could muster despite the heavy beating of your heart. 

You both looked at each other again, meeting gazes before dropping your eyes to each other’s lips as if out of habit. Lando didn’t need much more persuasive consent from you than that and he reached up to take your chin in his hand - like he had always dreamt of - and met you halfway for another soft kiss. You hummed gently against his lips, both of you lingering still for a moment before pulling back just quickly enough to move in for another, lips slotting together ever so slightly. His lips were pillow soft and nearly sweet, you swore, and you raised your hand up to slide over his chest and around the back of his neck. 

Lando was nearly dizzy with shock as he kissed you more, parting your lips with his own to deepen it, sharing slow open mouthed kisses that had you nearly breathing into each other’s mouths. He had spent so long imagining your lips that the real thing was nearly sending him into cardiac arrest. It was everything he wanted and more and he cradled your jaw in his hand, caressing his thumb over your cheek tenderly as you stepped a little closer to him in the elevator. 

Lando opened his eyes a little, as if having to double check that you were still really truly there with him, and he just smiled into your kiss at the sight of your pretty lashes resting on sweet cheeks. The elevator doors dinged as they slid open and you both pulled away from your kiss quickly, both grinning like fools, and you swiped the corner of your mouth with your pinky to make sure your lipstick wasn’t too smudged. Lando had a little bit of the reminisce of your re-application on his own mouth and he wiped it with the pad of his thumb just to see the warm pink colour that was smudged across his skin as if to prove his reality. 

Your hand fell into his lazily and you linked your fingers together as you pulled him out of the elevator and onto your floor. Lando traipsed behind you with a lovestick grin all over his face, rubbing his thumb over your fingers that were tucked casually around his and he felt like a million dollars just from a single thirty second kiss. 

As you fished out your room key from your purse - a task requiring two hands free - Lando greedily let his fingers trace the sinch of the blazer at your waist and down the black fabric to the slight curve of your hips. He made sure that no one else was in the hallway with you before he bravely swiped your hair over your shoulder and leaned in to kiss your neck. 

“Oh fuck.” you giggled in surprise, squirming away from him a little. 

“Sorry.” Lando hurried out, eyes wide. 

“No, it’s okay.” you assured him as you swiped your key and pushed open the hotel room door for you both, “I’m just not used to someone trying to turn me on in the middle of a hallway.”

Lando’s cheeks flushed a brilliant red at your cheeky statement and he was literally at a loss for words, his mouth opening but nothing coming out. He was turning you on? His sudden speechlessness had you laughing breathily and you linked your fingers with his once more, swinging your joined hands between you for a moment in the open doorway.

When you looked at your hands, your eyes were drawn to the bulge in the front of his slacks that was more than obvious. You bit your eager lip and looked back at his face, “Wanna come in?”

“Fuck yes.” Lando blurted out, only making you laugh again as you pulled him into the room and let the door shut behind you. 

The moment you were closed in the hotel room, you both moved in for more kisses, your hands sliding around the back of his neck and his wrapping around your waist. Once cautious and gentle, your kisses were moulding into impatient and hungry and you couldn’t help but lick your way into his mouth teasingly. Lando moaned softly into your kiss, raising a hand up to cradle your jaw again, and he gladly pushed his tongue against yours to meet you halfway. 

He didn’t feel like a stranger to you anymore - to Lando, you never felt like a stranger - and driven by the lust that grew within you, you only seemed to crave him in ways you never would have expected when you met him only three hours earlier. He physically pushed you back against the wall just inside the door and at impact you were groaning pleasantly against his lips and tongue with his body pressed to yours. You seemed to fall into some sort of rhythm together with your heads tilted ever so slightly to the left to let your lips lock between messy tongue filled kisses, bodies almost moving ever so slightly against each other in time with your lips. 

You tangled one hand in the back of his hair with ease and dropped your other to his waist to tug his body closer against yours until you could feel his erection poking against your thigh. Lando ground into you habitually, moaning into your kiss that was led equally between the two of you and his fingers pressed greedily into your hips under the material of your open blazer, his backpack still slung over his one shoulder. 

You slid your hand down his neck to his chest and pushed him back from your lips for a moment to ask breathlessly, “Just checking that you are actually over eighteen, right?”

Lando was already moving his clumsy kisses down your neck, “Almost twenty-one. On Saturday.”

“Fuck, okay,” you breathed, tilting your head back to give him room to kiss your neck and he nibbled right up under your ear, making your knees nearly go weak. You tried to play off your question despite the arousing overwhelm that was growing inside of you, “Not that you look like a teenager…I just…gotta check.”

Lando didn’t even have time to laugh at that because he was so damn focused on what was going on and he could only mumble out an “I know” before pressing his fingers to your jaw to turn your lips back to his. 

You both moaned into each other’s mouths, breathing in steady time, and you arched into him hungrily as your hand grabbed at the side of his neck. Lando’s arm snaked around your waist to hold you close just like that and his lips smacked wetly with yours, pulling more pleading moans from your throat with each tongue-led kiss. Your hips rubbed against his front slightly and his breath shuttered between kisses for a moment, fingers pressing tighter into your waist and he looked down between you to watch how close you stood together, still fully clothed. 

“You got hard so fast.” you whispered. 

Lando restrained himself from explaining that he had been growing hard from simply the sight of you since he first stepped foot in the bookstore that afternoon if not for simply looking at your pictures on Instagram over the last while. His eyes just focused on your lips, swollen from his kiss and smudged with your thin application of lipstick, and he spoke softly, “You’re just so fucking gorgeous…difficult not to get hard when you’re looking at me like that.”

He had so many smooth lines from his plentiful fantasies that involved you and of course he had to put them to the test before he got too in his head to remember any of them. That one seemed to work because you were giggling breathily and pulling him close by the side of his neck to lock your lips again. Lando swore you could take over every inch of his body and soul with ease but in that moment, he wanted nothing more than your mouth on his, kissing him like you were honestly meant to be there with your tongue working right up against his. 

It was such a rush into the hotel room that you both still had your bags slung over your shoulders and Lando slid his backpack down without taking his lips from yours, discarding it to the other side of the hallway. You followed his lead and dropped your tote bag and your purse to the tile floor too without breaking your kiss, keeping your one hand around the back of his neck to prevent his lips from leaving yours for anything longer than a second. 

Within his fit of determination, Lando guided you away from the wall and started to walk you farther into the room carefully to avoid tripping with his attention so distracted by your lips. His hands pushed your blazer from your shoulders and you gladly let him toss it across the carpeted bedroom floor before you were unbuttoning your blouse. You desperately tried to keep kissing as you undressed and Lando pulled his shirt off and dropped it to the floor before your blouse was joining it within seconds. 

“Holy shit.” he literally whined into your kiss as his eyes stayed open to try and get a good look at you. Shamelessly, your breasts were always a bit of a weak spot for him in most of your Instagram pictures so seeing them really, truly in front of him was unbelievable. You kept kissing him no matter how much he was trying to look at you, your hands sliding down his bare chest and to his faint abs that you gently scratched your fingers over to make him shiver. 

“You’re so sexy.” you whispered into his mouth before grabbing his waist to pull his body against yours again as your teeth nipped at his bottom lip, “Touch me.” 

Lando exhaled sharply at your order and you let his lips go so he could properly look at you, wide eyes staring down at your chest pushed up in your black bra. His hands glided up the curve of your waist, over your warm soft skin, and his fingertips ghosted over the lace of your bra as if afraid to touch. It pushed your breasts up so addictingly full and he literally licked his lips as he stared at you and cupped his hands over your chest. His wide eyed wonder had your gaze lingering on him for a moment, trying to read his expression as more than the male desire to look at breasts and instead thinking if maybe this was the first time he had seen any. 

“Sit down.” you instructed gently, taking hold of his wrists to steer him against the side of the neatly made king size bed. 

He sat. His eyes stayed on your chest and his hands reached for you once more. 

You let him touch and squeeze your breasts in your bra as much as he pleased because you were taking to his belt right after. Lando’s quick gasp was obvious and you looked him right in the eyes as you unpinned the buckle and then popped the button on his slacks. 

“You tell me to stop at any point if you want.” you whispered. 

Lando nodded and leaned in to kiss your lips again, playing his inexperience off with a casual, “You too.”

You just giggled softly and unzipped his slacks and tugged open the front before kneeling on either side of his lap. As your kiss broke, Lando’s hands slid around your waist to your back and his wide eyed stare locked on your chest that was nearly in his face. When you lowered down onto his lap, he bit down on his bottom lip in anticipation and when you started grinding on him a little, his hands gripped tighter to your waist. 

“Holy…” he groaned out softly, gaze unwavering from your breasts in his face. 

You moaned softly at the feeling of his clothed erection pressing up against your dress pants, right over your clit, and the friction was unbearably addicting. Greedy slow rocks of your hips back and forth had Lando trying to restrain himself from smothering his face in your chest, his eyes wide with lust. He couldn’t tell which one to look at, licking his lips, and his large hands followed the motions of your hips lazily. 

“Do whatever you want to me.” you whispered to him. “You can touch my tits if you want.” 

Lando’s big hazel eyes blinked up at you like a sweet little puppy and his teeth sunk down into his bottom lip as his mouth formed an eager smile, his hands sliding down the back of your pants to grab your ass with your given permission. 

“That’s it.” you breathed, still grinding down on his lap.

He pulled you into your motions harder and he groaned softly as he leaned in towards your chest. Tongue first, he licked testingly between your breasts and with your soft exhale, he tried again over one of them before sucking gently on your skin as he moved back. You raised your hand up behind you and unclipped your bra and Lando’s breath nearly froze in his chest as the lace fabric fell away to expose you to his eager eyes. 

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” he breathed, taking his hands from your ass to grab your chest. 

“You like my tits?” you asked sweetly. 

“Yeah.” Lando groaned, squishing them together before leaning in and nuzzled his face between them. He absolutely showered you in kisses as you laughed lightly at his eagerness and ran your hand through the back of his hair, still grinding down on his lap slowly, watching as he licked and kissed and suckled at your skin. But when he finally wrapped his lips around one of your nipples and sucked on it roughly, you audibly withered, your head falling back for a moment at the sensation. 

Lando’s eyes raised to yours as his teeth tugged at your nipple teasingly and you met his gaze again, “Does it feel good when I do that?”

“Mhm.” 

“Yeah?” he moved back in to suck on the other one, mimicking his same actions and pulling back with a little bite. “You have such pretty tits.”

You giggled lightly, “Thank you.”

Lando dropped his hands back down to your bum as you kept grinding on him back and forth, and he kissed wetly at your breasts a bit more before peering down between your bodies. You both still had your pants on although his were unzipped and resting open tauntingly and he moaned softly as he bit his bottom lip, watching you rub yourself down on his aching boner with almost four layers between you. 

“Mm, that feels so good.” he whispered. “Can I take my pants off?”

You nodded him on and leaned up on your knees to give him room to shuffle his slacks down his legs and he kicked them across the floor. It was only then that he noticed the full length framed mirror on the wall across from him over your shoulder and he mouthed ‘oh my God’ to himself as he watched you drop back down onto his lap. His hands gripped your ass and pulled you into your motions stronger and with your arms wrapped around his shoulders you dipped down to kiss his lips. You shared pleasant moans, tongues welcome into each other’s mouths as the sloppy sound of your kisses filled the hotel room with your heavy breaths. 

“Fuck, baby.” Lando groaned out of your kiss as his head tilted back for a moment to breathe. 

You kissed down his neck and his thumbs bravely tucked themselves in the back of your dress pants and started to pull them down over your ass. 

“Can I leave hickies?” you asked against his ear. 

“Fuck, yes.” Lando answered easily, honestly excited for you to leave your mark on him. 

You licked over a spot on the side of his neck and tangled your finger in the back of his hair to pull his head to the opposite side to give yourself more room. Lando just watched through the mirror over your shoulder as his hands rested on the curve of your bare ass, greedy eyes exposed to the burgundy lace of your panties that was as rich red as the wine you shared with dinner. His nose scrunched up at your first gentle suction and you tugged at his skin a little more and he withered slightly, hands gripping your flesh a bit tighter. 

“Ohh, my God.” he groaned. 

You pulled back from his neck with a soft slurp of spit and left one last lick over the forming bruise before blowing a gentle puff of air across it just to make him shiver. You both shared almost eager little grins as you moved back in to kiss him and when your lips locked, Lando couldn’t help himself but wind his hand back and slap it back down against your ass. The small yelp you let out had him rubbing his hand over the spot soothingly but you just whispered a ‘harder’ into his mouth instead. 

“You’re so fucking dirty.” Lando mumbled, staring you right in the eyes as he spanked you harder. 

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I love it.” Lando bit back his grin. 

He went to lean in to kiss you again but you slid off his lap and shuffled off your pants all the way before sinking to your knees between his legs. Lando’s eyes only widened more and you kept his gaze as you placed a careful hand over the front of his black briefs, only giving him the smallest pressure against his aching hard cock hidden underneath. 

“This okay?” you asked. 

“Mhm.” he nodded, resting his hands on the bed behind him to watch your hand rub slowly over the tent in his underwear. His eyebrows were furrowed in disbelieving concentration as if trying to sear into his memory the sight of you touching him just like that, his hips rising slightly from the bed to nudge up into your touch habitually. 

Your fingers ghosted across the taut fabric of his underwear up to the top of the bulge formed underneath and then you wrapped gentle fingers around it. Lando’s mouth fell open silently, still staring down at you as you rubbed him over his briefs with a secure grip around the girth of his clothed cock. 

“You’re so hard.” you whispered up to him, leaning in to press a careful kiss over the black fabric, “You feel big.” 

“You can take it out.” Lando offered, trying to play it cool while on the inside his heart was nearly racing out of his chest. 

“Yeah?” you bit your lip up at him, stringing him along a little longer, “And then what? Want me to put it in my mouth?”

“Fuck.” Lando choked out, “Yes.” 

His obvious eagerness had you smiling and you slid your warm palms up his stomach and leaned in to press slow open mouthed kisses down his abs and right to the fabric of his underwear, pausing to lick teasingly at the little line of hair that disappeared into the waistband. He shuttered under your touch and you just bit back your own excited grin as you slowly started to pull his underwear down. It rested around his thighs for a moment as you let yourself take in the sight of him, how his dick stood tall in front of your face, angled up so perfectly it nearly made you moan out loud. 

Lando was slowly shying under your silent stare and he reached a hand out to cover himself but before he could you were dropping out your tongue and licking at the tip. 

“O-Oh my God.” Lando choked out, his thighs flinching slightly. 

“You have a gorgeous dick.” you whispered up at him, wrapping your hand around the base greedily to hold him still as you dragged your tongue right up the underside. 

Lando was almost scared to touch you as if it would somehow make you stop and his right hand was held clumsily in mid air as his gaping mouth stared down at you in his lap. Your eyes met his as your lips wrapped around the head of his cock and you sucked on it lazily, gently, teasing him a little more. When you pulled back again, you let a string of spit dribble from your lips and down the shaft of his dick to meet your hand as you started stroking it slowly. 

“Oh my fucking God.” Lando breathed shakily. 

Your hand was so much better than his own, so soft and gentle, simply yours, and he stared at your motions as if in complete disbelief. You gave him slow twisting strokes up and back down, letting your eyes take up every inch of him as you licked your lips at the sheer size of him.

“You’re huge.” you complimented as you dragged his underwear down his legs completely and he helped to kick them off his ankles and across the floor. 

Lando never really thought to compare himself to others so he never really knew where he stood but honestly you could have been completely lying to him and he would have believed you. Your voice was a drug to him. Your touch was addicting. Your mouth was even better. 

The moment you took him in your mouth, Lando was whimpering shakily and his hand that was once hovering in mid air raked through his hair to grab a tight fistful to restrain himself. You kept yourself slow, pushing down on him carefully and easing back up with a snug hollow of your cheeks that was gentle for him. He had tried to play it cool but his obvious inexperience was oozing out of him and you saw that well. You didn’t want to call him out and embarrass him so you just took it slowly and made sure he was comfortable. 

With a soft moan, you kept your mouth and hand working together and Lando audibly withered as if his eyes were physically going to roll back in his head. 

“Is this a dream?” he whispered, mostly to himself. 

You giggled as you pulled back from his cock, letting your hand take up the motions that your mouth once was, “Not a dream, baby.”

Lando swore there was no better sight than you between his legs and he hesitantly slid his hand through your hair as if to make sure you were really there. You smiled up at him and then lowered down again, keeping your hand stroking his dick as you sucked gently on his balls one at a time. 

“Oh my God.” Lando gasped out. “Shit.” 

“Feel good?” you asked after licking back up the underside of his dick. 

“Yes.” 

You smeared the tip of his cock over your pursed lips, bubbling out a bit more spit to slick him up some more and then you pressed your tongue right under the head just to see how his nose scrunched up in pleasure. He whimpered so prettily and you nearly grinned as you fed his dick back into your mouth, shaking your head to get him to hit the back of your throat. When you gagged, Lando’s hand gripped tighter at your hair and his head fell back with a lingering groan, only breathing harder in steady time with you as you started bobbing your head again. 

As his moans got louder, you moved slower before finally pulling back from his lap with a deep inhale, leaving him sighing shakily. 

“Why’d you stop?” Lando asked quietly. 

“Because I don’t want you to cum yet.” you answered easily and reached up to grab him by the back of his neck and pull his lips to yours. 

He moaned into your kiss as his tongue fought against yours with fierce desire and both of his hands cradled your cheeks to hold you close. Without breaking your kiss, you stood up between his legs while still stroking him off lazily and he shuffled back farther onto the bed to let you join him. You placed yourself on his outstretched thighs, arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his hands pulled you closer by your ass until his cock was pressed up right against your clothed clit. 

Lando’s hands groped your ass strongly and he moaned hungrily into your mouth as if chasing your breath for more. He was desperate for your touch and to feel every inch of you but the gentleman in him just had to speak up before his inexperienced brain could really process his offer. 

“Want me to eat you out?” 

The offer nearly started himself as much as it took you by surprise, his instant regret pouring through his veins at the sudden remembrance that he would have no clue what the hell to do down there on you. The last thing he wanted to do was make a fool of himself and prove to you that he was a measly virgin. He had no clue you suspected it. 

“That’s okay.” you brushed it off coolly between passionate kisses. 

“Mm,” Lando kept pushing no matter how much he was fearing a ‘yes’, protesting weakly into your mouth, “but you went down on me…”

“So what?” you mumbled, grinding up against his cock. 

“Mph-” Lando groaned, voice strained, “it’s gotta be fair-” 

“Who says this isn’t fair?” you tangled your fingers in the back of his hair to gently tug his head back so he was looking up at you. 

Lando only whimpered, “Me.”

You dipped in closer to bite at his bottom lip once, twice, and then gave it a little tug on the third time, making his breath shutter in his chest when you pulled back. His wide eyes were focused in on yours, swollen lips parted sweetly in awe, and when you slid your hand around to his throat, his eyelashes fluttered with a shaky inhale. 

You spoke to him lowly, voice dripping in lust, and Lando could have came right then and there as you told him seriously, “I just want you to fuck me already.” 

“Oh my God.” Lando withered, sliding his hands up your waist to roll your both over gently. 

Still laying perpendicular to the pillows, his lips magnetized to yours almost right away. He situated himself between your legs that you wrapped around his waist and as his dick rutted up against your panties, he could nearly feel how wet you were, soaking through the fabric. You shared impatient moans into each other’s mouths, hung up on each other’s lips, and your fingers tangled in the back of his hair. 

“Do you have a condom in your bag?” you breathed into his mouth, words muffled slightly by his lips. 

Lando leaned back from your kiss just enough for your noses to brush, “No. Do you not have any?” 

“Wasn’t really planning on taking a stranger from my signing back to my hotel.” you chuckled. 

Lando could have nearly cried with frustration as he sat back from you, resting on his knees between your spread legs. You leaned up on your elbows against the neatly made sheets and you could have smiled at his adorable pout that he was trying so hard to suppress as his hands ghosted down your torso and over your thighs. 

“Lando,” you giggled, brushing your foot over his waist to bring his attention back to your face, “Do you wanna fuck me raw?”

His eyes could not have opened wider in shock, “What?”

“If you wanna. I can just stop to grab a Plan B tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Lando questioned. Was it concerning that he didn't even fear an accidental pregnancy? To be fair, he had been dreaming about knocking you up for months so the risk was more to his desires than he’d have liked to admit. 

You bit your lip and nodded, “If you’re comfortable.” 

He couldn’t nod faster if he tried. 

“Okay,” you smiled sweetly and held out one hand towards him, “C’mere then.” 

Lando leaned back over you, holding himself up on the bed beside you as his other hand cradled your face to keep your lips on his for more lingering kisses. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, moaning softly into his mouth as they moulded together like perfection. 

“Fuck, I’m so wet.” you whimpered into his mouth, chasing his mouth for one more sloppy kiss as he tried to pull away, “Mm, I want you so bad.” 

Lando stared down at you as he sat back on his knees again and let his hands travel down your body, over your breasts and hips and to the thin lace of your rich red panties. You draped your arms over your head and rose your legs towards your chest for a moment so he could easily pull your underwear off you and then let them fall to the ground, leaving you both completely naked. In the quiet of the hotel room, Lando nudged your thighs open again and got his first real look at the part of you that he swore he was only going to see in his dreams. 

You were glistening wet and Lando stared in wonder at the effect he had on you. Only egging him on more, you dropped a hand down and spread your lips open with two slender fingers so he could see all of you before gliding your fingers between them to smear around your sticky arousal that nearly dripped from your pussy. 

“Holy…fuck.” Lando licked his lips and then took a deep breath. “You are a fucking dream.”

“All reality.” you assured him with a giggle.

He rubbed his hands over your thighs for a moment, contemplating his next move, and you let him take his time. With a soft call of your name and a hum of acknowledgement from you, Lando had one request, “Can you call me ‘sir’?”

You were surprised by the slightly kinky suggestion, something you hadn’t even thought about at all, “You want me to call you ‘sir’?”

“You don’t have to.” Lando assured you quickly, his cheeks flushing pink.

“No…that’s…really fucking hot.” you admitted with a smile.

Lando’s lips perked up at the corners, “Yeah?”

You nodded with a sultry, “Yes, sir.” 

“Ohh fuck.” Lando chuckled through a low groan and he leaned back down over you to kiss you again. 

You moaned contentedly against his lips, swallowing up his tongue against yours, and then let him go with a smile when he sat back again between your spread legs. He shuffled closer to your body and you pulled your legs back a bit more to give him room, watching carefully as he let a thick string of spit fall from his lips onto his dick and he rubbed it in with his hand. 

“How much dirty talk do you want?” you asked softly. 

Lando answered with ease, “Write me a novel worth.” 

“Oh my God.” you giggled, draping yourself back down against the sheets, “I can do that.” 

Lando nudged the tip of his dick against your dripping pussy and the simple action made both of you gasp lightly. He was honestly a little nervous to get inside you, fearing that he’d cum within seconds and truth embarrass himself, so he teased you a little more by dragging his dick between your legs. 

“Shit,” you sighed out, eyes focused on his face as he watched the head of his cock glide between your wet folds, soaking himself in your arousal, “I just need you to fuck me with your big dick.” 

Lando nearly shuttered at your words and his eyes rose to meet your face. 

You reached down your body and gently stroked the head of his dick with your fingertips, tracing the smooth shape and stroking it right at his most sensitive spots. His hips naturally pushed into your touch and he groaned tightly. 

“Yeah, you’ve got such a pretty cock…gonna fucking ruin me with it. Just want it buried in my tight little wet pussy, sir.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Lando groaned softly, keeping a tight fist around the shaft of his dick as you nearly petted the swollen pink tip so tenderly. 

“Do you want that, sir?” you asked him sweetly, staring right up at his face as you wrapped your hand around his and brushed the tip of his dick strongly between your folds, “You wanna fuck me into my bed? Watch me take every inch of you?”

“Oh my- yeah-” he stumbled out. Lando could hardly think of words, all his smooth one-liners completely disappeared from his mind as he watched you rub his dick between your legs. You felt so warm and he wasn’t even inside you yet.

“How do you want to fuck me?” you asked softly. 

Lando swallowed thickly, “This is…fine. This is good.” 

“Okay.” you giggled. You took your hand back from over his to spread yourself open for him, urging him in with no words spoken. 

Lando shuffled forward on his knees again and held a cautious hand down against your stomach as he angled his dick between your legs and started to push inside you. You reached down to help guide him a little, making sure he got the right angle with the gentle re-direction of your fingers.

“Yeah, right there.” you breathed shakily, “Keep going.” 

The moment the head of his cock slipped snugly into your pussy, you both gasped softly at the feeling and Lando moved both his hands to grab your spread thighs as he watched himself ease deeper into you ever so slowly. You felt like heaven and Lando had to blink a few times to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming, far too good to be true. It was a feeling his hand could never recreate and he wondered how the hell he could go back to using his imagination after this, after being blessed with how tight and warm you were squeezing around him. 

“Oh my God, you’re so big.” you moaned quietly as you shifted onto your forearms behind you again to give yourself a better angle to watch behind a bitten lip as he slid in farther. 

Lando couldn’t even form words as he bottomed out and his hips pressed snugly against yours, his cock buried as deep as it could inside you. He was scared to move, worried that the moment he started to fuck you that he’d cum in seconds. 

You reached up a hand to wrap around the back of his neck and he raised his eyes to yours as you asked him softly, “You okay?”

“Mhm.” he nodded and leaned in to kiss you. 

His slight movement had his hips nudging against yours and your muscles fluttered around him at the shift and you both moaned into your messy kiss. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Lando rushed out in one hurried breath as he pulled back from your kiss and slowly rolled his hips into yours. 

“Slow.” you whispered, sliding your hands around the back of his neck. “Nice and slow.”

Lando’s eyes locked on yours as he eased deep into you again, resting his hands flat on either side of your head, and your mouths fell open together at the feeling. 

“That’s it.” you breathed. 

Lando moaned tightly into his next achingly slow thrust, slipping inside you so easily. You took his face in your hands and pulled him down for more kisses, sharing soft breaths and moans between you for a moment. 

“Can I ride you?” you asked against his lips. 

Part of him was sort of relieved to have you offer to start for him and he pushed a final kiss to your lips before pulling out of you again. You shifted him over onto his back, moving around so he was resting back against the down filled pillows and you tossed a leg over his lap. Lando’s wide eyes soaked you up eagerly and his hands found your hips to pull you closer before he was taking hold of his dick and helped you to angle it right again. 

It was a bit easier to slide into you now that he had already been fully inside you once and you sank right down until your ass met his thighs. His little grunt as you bottomed out had you smiling down at him and he just grinned right back, a dopey little pleasured grin, and his large hands slid up your waist to grab at your breasts. You rose back up just a bit and then lowered back down on him, starting slowly to start him off. 

“Fuck.” Lando squeaked out, eyes focused down his body to watch how you took him all every time you dropped down. He was just getting slicked up in your liquids to the point that every time you took him inside you, it made the filthiest wettest sound that made his mouth drop open. 

“Can I go faster, sir?” you asked breathily. 

“Uh huh.” he nodded. 

He wanted to take you over so badly but his mind was absolutely racing and he could hardly figure out how to form words. You bounced on his lap a little faster but still pretty slowly, grounding yourself with your hands on his chest as the bliss washed over you easily. 

“Mm, fuck, you feel so good inside me.” you moaned. 

Lando couldn’t help but naturally stumble out, “Good girl.” 

You blushed pink at his deep voice praising you so honestly and you squared your shoulders again and held his hands over your chest as you swirled your hips in impactful circles, “You think I’m a good girl, sir?”

The lust that raced through Lando’s veins had him staring up at you with so much he wanted to say and your taunting dirty talk only pulled it from where he had kept it suppressed with his initial shock of pleasure. He groped your breasts stronger and nearly pulled you into your motions by them, “Yeah, you’re a good girl, baby.” 

His protective walls were falling away as he fell into comfort and you bit back your smile down at him as you moved back into bounces, “God, I love riding you. You look so fucking good.” 

Lando audibly groaned, pulling his hands from your chest to grab your hips again and tried to slow you down desperately. But you fell to your knees on either side of his body and tossed your hair over one shoulder to lean down and kiss him, bouncing your hips back on him as you did so. 

“Mm, fuck.” Lando muffled into your mouth, desperately trying to keep kissing you back but it was growing increasingly difficult. He spanked you once before grabbing your ass and tried to buck up into you with a whine. 

You had only been on top of him for not even a minute and he was already about to burst. He was embarrassingly close and if he didn’t stop you and the way you were riding him he was going to cum embarrassingly fast. 

“Stop, baby, st-stop.” he stumbled out, trying not to show how strained his voice was.

You did, stalling your motions as you pulled back from his lips to look at him, “You okay?”

Lando played it off coolly, “Yeah. Just wanna…”

You let him lead you off of him and he got up to take his spot behind you, naturally urging you onto hands and knees. His direction had you biting back a grin and you looked at him over your shoulder as you spread your legs a little wider and he brushed his dick between your folds again. 

“Put it in.” you whispered. 

Lando took a deep silent breath that he held in his chest as he pushed back inside your sinfully tight body. He groaned lowly and grabbed your waist tightly as he couldn’t help but start to thrust into you slowly as if driven by some sort of natural instinct. 

“Oh fuck-” you gasped, hands instinctively gripping the sheets beneath you. “Yes.”

He slapped a hand down across your ass and you giggled blissfully into the pillows as you slouched down to arch your back for him. Taking it from the back, he could hit so deep that his balls smacked against your clit every time he thrusted into you and the slick sound of wet skin filled the hotel room. 

“Oh my God.” Lando groaned through his teeth. “Good girl…take it.” 

“Fuck, sir.” you moaned pleasantly, unable to hide the honest smile from your face. “Don’t stop.”

Lando’s head literally fell back and he mouthed an “oh my God” to the ceiling as if literally speaking to heaven - it nearly felt like he was in heaven in that moment. You…were heaven to him. His hands gripped tighter onto your waist and he pulled you into his every thrust as he tried to hold himself back. He wanted to cum so badly but it was still so soon and he was trying everything in his power to not think too hard about how good you felt and how pretty you sounded. 

“Fuck me faster.” you whimpered, glancing back at him over your shoulder. 

Lando physically clenched his jaw and forced himself faster, shoving into you messily just to make you moan louder into your arm. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” 

“Feel good, baby?” he asked, unsure of his own capabilities.

“So good!” you cried softly, “Don’t stop!” 

Lando could feel himself growing close again and the filthy wet and warm squelch of your pussy taking him all certainly wasn’t helping him last any longer. He honestly tried to think of his exam he had taken earlier that day, his failing GPA, his current assignments, desperate for any thought that would keep him from finishing too quickly. But you were louder than his thoughts and your jagged fucked out moans and whimpers and chants of “yes” were making it increasingly difficult to hold back. 

So he pulled out again. 

“Ohhh.” you whined in protest. 

Lando tried to steady his breathing, his cock aching with need to cum, and he took his time nudging you onto your back and pulled your right leg over your left so your hips were rotated ninety degrees and left your pussy on perfect display for him. It only took a few seconds to get you situated but by then the knot inside him was diminishing and only leaving behind that unfulfilled throbbing. 

“Okay, okay, okay, okay-” Lando breathed, spanking your ass once more before he was grabbing it in his tight grip and then sliding his dick back inside you strongly. “That’s it.”

“Holy shit, you’re so big!” you cried. 

Lando just started fucking you again, holding you down by waist and chest and your head tossed back against the pillows with a loud cry of pleasure. He couldn’t get enough of you, the feeling he had never been blessed with before, and he stared down at you behind a bitten lip and stormy determined eyes that had your mouth dropping open. 

“Oh my fucking God, yes!” you shrieked, tossing a hand up behind you to grab onto the headboard. “Right there!”

Lando had a one handed vice like grip on your breast but the sting of his grip didn’t phase you as you were too hung up on the way he fucked you. His strokes weren’t completely graceful and were certainly infused with an unmissable desperation but they felt so good regardless and the angle he had you at had him hitting your g-spot straight on. Whether he knew that or not was beyond you but he literally had you going quiet as only the sharpest little gasps were fucked from your throat. 

“F-Fuck-“ Lando whimpered, staring right into your eyes. 

The expression you held was driving him crazy, nothing but euphoria spread all over your face with your mouth fallen open and eyes nearly rolling back in your head thanks to him and him alone. You reached one hand down to grab his thigh, fingers pressing into his flesh as if to pull him closer, deeper, to urge him to give you more. He shifted to grab your ass and waist with both hands, biting hard on his bottom lip as he stared down at how you took him all so deep inside you, drenching him each time he pulled back out just to shove back in, dizzy on the wet squish of your body. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, sir-” you rushed out, fingernails digging into the back of his thigh from where you held him and your other arm was draped above your head and gripping onto the pillow beneath you, your moans only growing louder and more desperate, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop!” 

As your pussy started to grip down around him, Lando physically stopped in surprise, his hips stuttering, and he pulled right out of you again with a startled gasp. Your disappointed groan had his wide eyes raising back to your face again. 

“Wanna cum for you.” you whined, reaching down to rub pleadingly at your sensitive pussy, “Please let me cum on your cock.” 

Lando couldn’t say no to that. He shoved your legs apart again to get you flat on your back once more and you grinned sweetly up at him as he proudly angled his dick between your legs and dragged it through your pooling wetness and pressed it against your gaping hole, already fucked out by him. He eased it inside you slowly, so slowly so he could watch how your body stretched around him and took him all, how each inch made your breath shutter in your chest. 

He knew he really wasn’t going to last long anymore - he had already done literally all he could to hold himself back - and he leaned right over you with his forearms pressed to the pillows on either side of your head as he filled you completely once more. You leaned up to kiss him, lips smacking wetly and sloppily with your passion and heat, and when he rolled his hips into yours, you broke your kiss with a lingering moan. 

Lando stared at your face right in front of him as you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders and neck and he pushed into you slowly again. Your sweet moans were nothing less than beautiful to him and he thrusted into you a bit stronger to have you making more of those pretty sounds. 

“Please,” you whimpered, cut off by his lips finding yours again as he thrusted into you a little faster. You squeaked against his kiss and smacked your hand down against his shoulder blades in surprise at his change, nails sinking into his skin. 

“This okay?” Lando asked softly, his breath falling against your cheek. 

“Uh huh! Gimme more.” you nodded. 

Lando couldn’t get enough of your filthy words so he egged you on - testing the waters - with a little, “Beg.” 

“Fuck me harder!” you pleaded, “I wanna cum all over your huge cock. Want you to make me cum, sir. Want you to make me scream, sir.” 

“Oh fuck.” Lando groaned quietly, slumping down on top of you a little more as he let his hips take their natural desperation out on you, pounding into you faster. 

“Shit!” you gasped sharply, head tossing back against the pillows, “Yes! Keep going!” 

“Good girl.” Lando breathed, so quiet as if he were nervous to say it out loud but you still heard and it still made your stomach twist. 

Your ankles linked behind his back to keep him as close as possible and you welcomed his lips back on yours to share a few more sloppy kisses and hungry moans before he was pulling back to breathe again. Lando had to tuck his face into your neck because looking at you felt like far too much to handle as he stayed nice and deep and fucked you quicker. 

“Yes.” you squeaked out, digging your nails into his back. “Yes, yes, yes-” 

Lando moaned shakily against your skin, already feeling himself needing to cum again. He desperately thought of his exam again, trying to think about anything to make it last just even a little bit longer. He was getting so close so fast and as you did the same, the squeeze of your muscles only drew him dangerously closer to finishing. 

The sound of his panted, strained breaths against your ear was invigorating and the tight reverberations of his soft groans had you biting his neck to keep yourself composed, to keep from getting too loud between the thin hotel walls. But you still moaned for him, pleading sweet little moans that he felt in every inch of his body and his balls fucking ached to cum after so much edging. It nearly brought tears to his eyes. 

You could tell he was close as he shuffled closer to you on his knees and his thrusts were turning sloppy and his groans were turning into strained little whimpers, his cock pulsing strongly deep inside of you. Just to help it along, you dropped a hand down between your snug bodies to rub at your clit, already so sensitive that the slightest touch had you shuttering with overwhelm. The way it made your pussy clench up had Lando gasping and you held him by the back of his neck to keep his cheek pressed to yours. 

“Do you want to cum inside me?” you asked softly, voice dripping like honey. 

He nodded quickly. 

“Yeah? Good because I want it. I want you to cum so fucking deep inside me, sir. Please, gimme it.” 

Your voice was strained as you were getting yourself close too by the extra help of your hand and Lando’s fists were tightening on the pillows on either side of your head as he fucked you right down into the bedsheets. Your words certainly weren’t helping him hold himself back but thankfully he didn’t have to hold it much longer because in seconds he was privy to the perfection that was your orgasm. 

He could hardly get a good look at your face with how close your heads were but he got the best of it; how your nose scrunched up and head fell back and how you sobbed out his name to the ceiling with a trail of the sweetest moans and whimpers he had heard all night. But the best part was how it felt, how fucking tight you got around him, because the moment your orgasm washed over you, the vice like grip of your muscles sent him to his own rapid conclusion. 

Lando literally tensed so hard he trembled, eyes scrunched closed as he grunted out a whimpery, “Y-Yes…yes- f-fuck-” 

He held onto you so tightly that he couldn’t get any deeper inside you if he tried and he savoured the feeling of coming in something that wasn’t his hand. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that it was you. 

Your heels pressed into his ass to grind his hips against yours to make sure he let it all out, your shared breathy moans lingering in the warm air of the hotel room. Lando bucked into you a few more times and you kissed at his neck as he came down from his most incredible orgasm to date. His hands loosened on the pillows and he leaned back just enough to look at your face properly. 

His cheeks were dusted pink and he was blinking away the pleasurable tears that had brimmed in his eyes, parted lips staring down at you in near awe. You brushed your hand through his messy hair and you both leaned in for a quick kiss or two before you were guiding him back by his biceps as he sat back on his knees between your spread legs. 

Lando’s chest nearly hurt with how fast his heart was beating and he pulled out of you slowly, watching the trickle of cum that dripped out in his wake. He licked his lips and raised his eyes up to yours as if asking for permission to touch you as he reached his hand out and smeared his fingers through it greedily. 

“That’s so fucking hot.” he breathed. 

“Feels so good too.” you giggled. 

Lando shifted out from between your legs and fell onto the bed at your side, both of you resting back against the pillows and staring at the ceiling as your breathing steadied. You grabbed his wrist of the hand that had just been in the mess you made and you pulled it up to your mouth to suck off his fingers. Lando exhaled shakily as he watched you lick him clean - nearly deepthroating his fingers as you did so - and then you shoved his hand away with a little blissful laugh and a lick of your lips to linger on the taste of him. 

In the silence that fell for the initial moment after everything, Lando started to wonder if he should be saying something…bringing you something…thanking you? He felt like a fool, not knowing what he was supposed to be doing and he turned his head to look at you again, speaking your name into the warm air between you. 

“Lando.” you replied right back with a little smile, lolling your head to the side to look right back at him. 

“I have to tell you something.” he whispered. 

You shifted your body onto your side to give him your full attention, face falling into slight concern, “What is it?”

He bit at his lip nervously before confessing to you, “I’m a virgin…I was a virgin...”

Your lips pricked up into a tiny smile at the corners and you stroked your thumb across his cheek, “Yeah, sweetheart, I could kinda tell when you kept having to stop to keep from cumming too fast.”

Lando’s cheeks went red, “Oh.” 

“Was that okay though? You didn’t mind losing it to me? I should have asked but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Lando propped himself up on his side too with a quick shake of his head, “Absolutely. I wanted nothing more than to lose it to you, honestly. It was like a fucking dream.” 

You shared light laughter and he leaned in - hesitating for a split second - and kissed your lips. You raised your hand up to the side of his neck to keep him there a moment longer, smiling into his mouth as your breathlessly moulded into messy little kisses. 

“Was it okay for you?” Lando pulled back to ask, “I wasn’t…too clueless, right?”

You bit back your smile at his courtesy and shook your head, “No, you were amazing. Pleasantly surprised you could actually make me cum.”

He let out a little sigh of relief and you both leaned in for a few more quick kisses between light blissful giggles. Lando felt a surge of pride for himself, like he was unbeatable, and when you pushed him back by his chest, he flopped back onto the sheets with a smiling sigh. 

“I’m gonna go clean up.” you said, scratching your fingers gently over his abs, “You’ll be here when I come out?”

Lando nodded, sharing in your smiles, and he watched you climb off the bed and retrieve a clean pair of underwear and a t-shirt from your suitcase by the wall before disappearing around the corner into the bathroom. When he heard the door close behind you, Lando permitted himself a deep exhale, raking his fingers through his hair as he stared up at the ceiling with shocked disbelief all over his face. He had been playing it cool for hours and suddenly, with the wash of reality overcoming him, he was stunned to silence by what just happened. 

He mouthed a “what the fuck” to the ceiling and then sat up on the king size bed to locate his underwear from where they had been earlier tossed across the floor. He got up and tugged them on before tiptoeing past the bathroom door to where his backpack was left in your rush of entry. With his phone in hand, Lando returned to the side of the bed and sat down as he unlocked his phone with your birthdate as his passcode and swiped across his home screen that was wallpapered with a picture of you, and opened Instagram. 

His two best friends were chatting to pass the time in the groupchat,

georgerussell63: It’s literally 11:00 right now and I’m going to be so tired for my exam tomorrow but I can’t go to sleep until we know wtf is going on alex_albon: I know alex_albon: I’m so wide awake alex_albon: I can’t even lock my phone I’m scared we’ll miss something georgerussell63: Do you think anything happened? alex_albon: Ahh idk- georgerussell63: Omg wait Lando just opened the messages georgerussell63: Hello?? alex_albon: Lan?? You alive?? georgerussell63: Mate don’t just leave us on SEEN  alex_albon: What happened? We are dying here! landonorris: Guys landonorris: Oh my God georgerussell63: LANDO alex_albon: WHAT HAPPENED landonorris: I fucked her alex_albon: WAIT WHAT georgerussell63: WHAT THE FUCK?? georgerussell63: REALLY? landonorris: Ahherghbj omfg yes really alex_albon: Proof plz omg we need proof georgerussell63: Wtf kind of proof Alex? The used condom? Nasty landonorris: Yeah that’d be difficult since we didn’t use a condom- alex_albon: LANDO NORRIS georgerussell63: WTF georgerussell63: WHY NOT alex_albon: BECAUSE WE WANT THOSE BABIES LES GOO landonorris: HAHA landonorris: Idk she just said she’d take plan b tomorrow and idc pffhf landonorris: I’m fucking buzzing holy shit georgerussell63: Where are you rn?? alex_albon: Give us all the details mate landonorris: In her hotel room landonorris: She’s just in the bathroom so I probably can’t chat for long but landonorris: Yeah I had to tell you guys right awayyy georgerussell63: Hear that Albono? georgerussell63: Our boy isnt a virgin anymore 🥲 alex_albon: I’m literally speechless omg alex_albon: Did you get her follow yet?? georgerussell63: ALEX georgerussell63: Mate georgerussell63: Who cares about a follow right now georgerussell63: The boy just shagged the girl of his dreams 🥵 alex_albon: I'm just ASKING if its a one time thing or what landonorris: Idk it literally just happened so we haven’t even really talked landonorris: I still can’t believe it really georgerussell63: Was she good? 👀 alex_albon: 👀👀👀 landonorris: YES landonorris: She was so fucking loud too landonorris: And her dirty talkkkkk holy shittttttt georgerussell63: YEEESH alex_albon: Oh my GODD

Grinning from ear to ear at how boastful he felt, Lando glanced at the bathroom door to make sure it was still closed before he went over to the full length mirror and opened his camera. He tilted his head back a little to show off the bruising hickey on his neck and the faint reminisce of teeth marks just below it and he snapped a picture for his friends.

landonorris: *sent an image* georgerussell63: Ohhhh you got BRANDED alex_albon: LANDO alex_albon: Fucking get it mate omfg

Lando took a second to look at himself in the mirror as if he were a whole new person. He felt new…improved…absolutely buzzing. He turned around in the reflection just to see the pretty red scratches down his back and across his shoulder blades. With a disbelieving giggle to himself, Lando raised his phone up over his shoulder and took a picture through the mirror.

landonorris: *sent an image* alex_albon: LANDO georgerussell63: SHIT alex_albon: You must have had serious game to be scratched up like that holy shit georgerussell63: You really did it omg landonorris: YEAH I REALLY DID IT landonorris: Four positions landonorris: Not including her getting on her knees first landonorris: The whole time she was basically screaming for it landonorris: Hottest thing I’ve ever fucking done landonorris: She was so fucking incredible  landonorris: Even better than I could ever imagine  landonorris: It felt so good I’ve never come so fucking hard before lol georgerussell63: Geeeeez it’s getting hot in here alex_albon: I’m dying to know what this means for you two alex_albon: If she liked it that much this better not be a one time thing alex_albon: She better have fallen in love with you rn georgerussell63: Our boy’s got such good stroke game he wins girls hearts alex_albon: Hell yeah landonorris: Seriously guys it was unreal georgerussell63: I’m so obsessively happy for you rn it’s probably unhealthy 

Right then, the bathroom door opened and you stepped out, only giving Lando a few seconds to say goodbye to his friends. 

landonorris: gtg talk tomorrow

“You okay?” you asked cautiously.

Dressed in only a t-shirt and panties, makeup washed off and hair brushed away from your face, you were still a vision to him and Lando smiled at you softly as you walked over to him.

“Mhm, my roommate was just asking where I was.” he lied casually, still not wanting to be seen as too much of a cringey fanboy as he locked his phone in his hand. 

You walked into his outstretched arm and slid your hands over his bare chest and around his shoulders, “Do you need to go?”

Lando shook his head, his breath sweet and shallow as his heart rate sped up by just having you in arms reach and he bumped his nose gently against your cheek, “Not unless you want me to go.” 

Lingering just in front of his lips you whispered your response, “I wouldn’t mind some company tonight.”

“Yeah?” he smiled. 

You nodded with a smile of your own and guided him closer by the side of his neck to kiss his lips. He hummed softly into it and raised his hand up to cradle your cheek in return, letting his lips lock so effortlessly with yours. After a few seconds, you pulled him back towards the bed and you both climbed under the sheets together. 

“Did you wanna watch Netflix or something?” you asked. “It’s still a little early.” 

Lando hesitated for a moment at your side, “Is it weird if I ask you to read to me? I missed your reading today after all.” 

You laughed lightly but leaned right in and swallowed his lips up with eager kisses, “Mm, no, that’s so fucking sweet. Get your book.” 

Lando grinned and shuffled back out of bed to unzip his backpack and pull out his hardcover that only a few hours earlier he was waiting in line for you to sign. Now, he was taking it into your bed and passing it to you once more while holding his arm up to permit you to cuddle up against his chest. You rested back against him, both of you propped up slightly against the pillows, and he snaked his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek as you flipped to the first chapter. 

“You sure this isn’t weird?” he asked softly. 

You leaned your head back against his shoulder and smiled up at him, petting your hand through the side of his messy hair, “Promise. I love it.” 

Lando smiled back and leaned down to kiss your lips and then your temple as you turned back to your book. You read the first few chapters out loud - only stopping once to order room service for a late night snack and refreshments - and shared kisses between each chapter that only had Lando’s stomach fluttering with butterflies at how sweet your voice sounded reading the words that spoke wonders to him. He made you skip over the smut - whispering that he didn’t think he could handle getting hard again - and you did with a shy little laugh as he admitted that your filthy written words always had such an effect on him. 

When you were both fading, the half read novel was tucked onto the bedside table and the lights were turned off in exchange for the presence of each other’s bodies. He was a stranger to you but somehow he made you feel so warm inside like you had known him much longer than a few measly hours. His fingers twirled through the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck and you were put to sleep in mere moments after such a tiring day. 

As Lando held your slumbering body to your chest, his heart was soaring. He wondered if you could hear it racing for you, all his mind taken up by every last bit of you. 

Lando’s alarm went off at 8am, ringing loudly from the dresser across the hotel room. You stirred first and your shifting woke Lando as he had been clinging onto you like a koala all night. His tired eyes blinked open, trying to piece together where he was for a second and why his dorm room bed suddenly felt so comfortable and why his pillow he was clutching felt so warm. 

He had almost entirely forgotten that the previous day wasn’t a dream. 

When he blinked himself into consciousness, he shifted away from you at the annoying ringing of his alarm, “Sorry.”

“S’okay.” you yawned as he climbed out of the king size bed and traipsed across the clothing strewn floor to retrieve his phone and turned off the noise. 

He had class at 9:00 but he certainly wasn’t going to make it across the city in time if he took his time with you. In the mayhem of the previous night, he had completely forgotten about his class. 

“Shit.” 

“Everything okay?” you asked, rolling over to face him under the sheets with your hands tucked under your head. 

Lando glanced up at you, in awe of how angelic you looked in the morning, and then looked back down at his phone to pull up the bus schedule, “Yeah…just…forgot I had class this morning.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” you sighed, “I shouldn’t have kept you.”

“God, no, don’t be sorry.” Lando assured you quickly. “No regrets here.” 

You smiled up at him as he came over to the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss your lips. 

“I had a great night.”

You reached up to hold him by the back of his neck to keep his lips on yours a moment longer, “Me too.” 

Both of you pulled back from your kiss smiling and Lando nearly stumbled over his feet as he turned to retrieve his clothes from across the floor. You giggled at his clumsiness and sat up against the headboard to watch him pull his shirt on and button his slacks up. He looked as passé as one could be but in his mind, he was stewing about saying goodbye to you. He didn’t want to say goodbye to you. He didn’t want to never speak to you again. 

“Lando.” you called. 

He looked up at you from his belt, blue eyes wide, “Yeah?”

“You look good.” 

He cracked a small smile and looked back down to the buckle on his belt, “I feel good.”

“Wonder why.” you teased. 

He returned to the side of the bed and sat down to lean back with one hand propping himself up on the other side of your lap. You stared at each other for a moment, eyes moving between eyes and lips. He needed to ask. He felt stupid asking. 

He forced it out of his mouth, “Can I…can you…maybe follow me on Instagram? So we can maybe keep talking?”

You smiled cockily at him, “I was wondering when you were going to ask. Was starting to think you just saw me as a booty call.” 

Lando laughed awkwardly, relieved, “God, no.” 

“Pass me my phone?” you gestured to your purse sitting against the wall and he got up to reach into it and pull it out for you. When he returned to the side of the bed and you unlocked your phone, he leaned forward a little to peek at your background out of pure curiosity. The aesthetic picture of notebook paper and pen was almost expected. You opened Instagram, right away being notified of dozens of likes, comments and a few follows but you ignored them and selected the search bar. “What’s your user?”

“landonorris.” he said, leaning forward a little more as he spelt it for you, “l-a-n-d-o-n-o-r-r-i-s. All one word.” 

The sight of his profile appearing on your screen was almost more surreal than the sight of him inside you the night before and he bit back his smile as you requested to follow his private account. His follower count looked miniscule compared to yours but you didn’t seem to bat an eyelash at it. 

“There,” you said proudly, “Accept me and then send me a message. I wanna look at all your sexy pictures.” 

“They’re hardly sexy.” Lando scoffed. 

“You’re sexy so they will be too.” you giggled, leaning towards him slightly.

Lando laughed shyly under your strong compliments and he let his eyes flutter closed as your lips met. You both stayed still for a moment, letting your kiss linger between you before moving back in for a few more little ones. 

“You have a bus to catch.” you whispered as you pulled back. 

“Mhm.” Lando pouted. 

“Don’t forget your book.” you gestured to where the hardcover was left on the nightstand. 

He grabbed it quickly as he stood up again, “Right. Thanks.”

“Thank you for dinner, by the way.” you said, “And for a truly unforgettable night.”

Lando smiled bashfully, “Yeah. Right back at you.” 

He dipped down to kiss the corner of your mouth and then he started for the door of the hotel room. As it closed behind him and he was suddenly alone in the long hallway, he slouched back against the wall and let out a deep breath before taking another one in nice and slowly. He opened his instagram requests as he waited for the elevators and he couldn’t help but screenshot the sight of your verified account in his pending follower requests. 

With you now in his followers, he slid into your dms with a casual, 

landonorris: Hey 😉 Don’t forget to stop by the drug store today

The whole way back to campus, Lando was grinning out the window and holding your signed copy of your book to his chest. He felt as light as air and as if he had been living the most perfect dream the last 24 hours. The only thing he realized he had yet to do was read your note you left him in the inside cover of his book. In the light of the morning sun across the streets of Bristol, Lando carefully opened the hardcover novel and admired the crisp silver sharpie inked across the dark inside page in your careful handwriting, 

“Lando,

Thank you for being so thoughtful and genuine.”

Signed with your curling signature and a little heart. 

Tag List: @black-fireproofs @k3nmakyan @m4rt10ne @strawberryy-kiwii @herebereblogs

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

[holdinggrudges]

what's my flavor?

pairing: sam winchester x reader

content: EXPLICIT 18+, oral (fem!receiving), vampire!sam, blood drinking, bloodplay (surprisingly little though tbh), fem!reader (afab anatomy + the word girl used in reference like three times or so), feeding being explicitly referred to as similar to drugs/getting high, mentions of serious illness (made up for plot reasons but still)

word count: 10.5K

summary: Working your way through college, you find a secretary job with great pay and more than enough downtime on the clock to get your coursework done. The only downside is that it leaves you with no choice but to attend night classes. But it's not so bad, especially with Mysterious Hot Guy attending them as well. Oh, and there's been blood bags going missing, but you're pretty sure that's not going to be relevant to your life any time soon.

notes: this was supposed to be pwp. it was also supposed to be posted on halloween. clearly, neither of those things happened. but fuck it, we ball.

crossposted on ao3

You don’t understand how anyone could get through college without a job. You hear about people surviving off scholarships all the time, and you try your first year, you really do. But, God, something has to change. You can’t imagine working your way through school could be any more stressful than the budgeting, and the skipping meals, and the cards declining at the grocery store. 

So you get a job. A good one, too; a secretary job at an office ten minutes away from your apartment, and only twenty minutes away from campus. The job is easy, with plenty of downtime for you to work on your coursework, and the pay is good. Better than good, even. The only problem is the hours; 9-5 is great, generally, but not very convenient when setting up a college schedule. You’re relegated almost exclusively to night classes. Which is fine. Not ideal, but fine. 

You take four classes, two a night, and it leaves your Fridays wide open after work. It would truly be a perfect schedule if it didn’t mean you were on campus until 11 o’clock most nights. But the classes are relatively empty and none of your professors are total hardasses, so it’s not so bad. Actually, you start to really enjoy it. 

You make a little game out of studying the other students, trying to figure them out. The woman who sits in front of you in your statistics class is a stay-at-home mom, you think. The older man a few rows down in english is retired military. It’s interesting, and it gives you a reason to actually make it to class everyday. Well, that and Mysterious Hot Guy. 

Mysterious Hot Guy (or MHG, for short) is in two of your classes: your 6 o’clock political science class on Mondays and Wednesdays sitting a row down from you, and sitting beside you in your 8:30 biology class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He first caught your eye because, frankly, he looks more like he should be on a movie set than night classes at a dinky community college. He’s drop dead gorgeous, and that’s putting it lightly. Even so, that’s not what has you so intrigued. Something about him is off somehow, strange in such a way that it has you completely captivated. Alluring in a way you can’t quite put your finger on, even outside his appearance. 

MHG hardly ever speaks. You’re pretty sure he’s only said one word to you the entire four weeks of the semester so far, and he sits literally a foot away from you every other day. He’s also, apparently, a genius. He never takes notes, never writes a single thing down, he never asks questions and never answers them either, for that matter. Still, you happened to catch a glimpse of his grade on the test your biology professor handed back last week, and he got a perfect score. 

He also doesn’t have a car. Or, rather, he doesn’t have a car of his own. Every Tuesday and Thursday as you’re walking back to your own car at almost 11 PM, he’s climbing into the passenger seat of an absolutely gorgeous vintage Chevrolet Impala that makes you simultaneously green with envy and desperate for him to push you up against the side of it. Or push you down against the backseat. Or the front seat, which you find out is a bench seat after some minor googling. Car like that, you’re not exactly gonna be picky about where. 

Still, even after all your observing, you don’t learn a single useful piece of information about MHG until six weeks into the semester—two weeks out from midterms—when your biology professor announces that you will be choosing your partners for the midterm project. You barely even let the words leave his mouth before you’re turning to your right, pouncing with what you hope is a normal amount of enthusiasm, although you’re so damn intrigued by this guy that all you can do is pray you don’t come across as a total stalker. “Hey. Would you wanna partner up?” 

MHG turns to you, his eyes wide in a way that leaves you a lot less hopeful about how normal your greeting was. “Uh. Me?” he asks, and his voice is…warm in a way you weren’t expecting. He could do audiobooks, or a podcast, or something—he has a nice voice is what you’re getting at.

You laugh. You’re almost a little starstruck—it makes sense; you’ve definitely turned this guy into your own personal celebrity. “Who else?” you respond, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m ____.” 

He eyes you for a moment before he clasps your hand and gives it a shake. Jesus, this guy must have anemia or something because his hand is fucking freezing. “Sam. Uh, Winchester. Sam Winchester.” His touch lingers for a moment before he tugs his hand back. “And…yeah. Yeah, we can…partner up.” 

Sam Winchester. Finally, a name to put to the face. No more thinking of him as Mysterious Hot Guy for you; you and MHG are on a first name basis now. “Awesome,” you say softly, and you really, desperately hope your smile looks less manic than it feels. “So. Sam. Would you mind giving me your number or something so we can set up a time and place to meet up?” 

He hesitates, but he does scribble a number down on the corner of his empty notebook page. “I, uh. I can’t do…daytime,” he tells you as he slides it over. 

Okay. Weird way to phrase that, but you assume he’s like you, he works during the day or something. So you shrug and take the proffered paper. “Me neither. I have work.” You pinch it between your fingers with a grin. “We’ll make it work.” 

He smiles at you, a shy sort of thing that makes your chest ache to draw out more. “Yeah. Okay.” 

You plug the number in your phone almost as soon as you get home, but it takes you almost an hour to actually text him. You go through probably a hundred different drafts before you finally land on: ‘hey!! it’s ____. does friday work for you? my only day without classes lol’ 

Once you press send, you figure you’ll probably have at least five minutes to freak out and overthink. Sam doesn’t really seem the type to be glued to his phone. Which is why, you suppose, that you nearly have a heart attack when your phone buzzes with a response no more than 30 seconds later. ‘Friday works. 7 at the library?’ 

‘see you then :)’ You debate over the smiley face for a solid minute and a half before finally sending it and then violently throwing your phone across the couch and screaming into your throw pillow. 

When you do finally work up the courage to pick your phone up again, he’s sent two texts back. ‘See you then.’ And then another one, a small bubble containing two characters: ‘:)’ Embarrassingly, you giggle alone in your living room. Oh, this guy is going to be the death of you. 

You spend the rest of the night googling Sam Winchester and coming up with absolutely nothing. He seems to have absolutely no social media presence at all, not even an old MySpace or a private Facebook account. The only reference you can find to his name at all has it listed as one of two sons of some random serial killer from, like, the 1800s, which is obviously useless. 

You give up your fruitless search with a sigh, closing your laptop and shoving it aside. Your tv is playing on some local news station—doesn’t matter which one, they’ve all been reporting the same story for weeks. You click it off, 100% disinterested in hearing about the blood bags going missing from local clinics for the millionth time this month. 

You go to bed and dream of brown hair and eyes that you just can’t quite place the color of, but you can swear you see them flash red.

Friday finds you at the library almost a full hour early. You’d agonized over your outfit all day yesterday, and for another half an hour after work to boot. In the end, you’d decided to go casual. After all, it is just a study date—and actually, not a date at all! A study meet-up. A study hangout, at best. The fact that you did your make-up and your hair for it is entirely irrelevant. 

It’s 6:45 when a cough draws your attention up from your phone. Sam is standing in front of you with another one of those shy smiles, and two coffee cups in his hands. Coffee cups from your favorite cafe. He shoves one in your direction. “Uh. I’ve noticed that you have drinks from here pretty often. And- I hope you don’t mind, but I…I read one of the cups? So. This is for you.” 

Your eyes flick over him, your heartbeat practically pounding out of your chest. So he’s been watching you too. Or—Jesus, not watching, that makes it sound creepy. Observing is a better word for it. He noticed a pattern in your coffee cups. He read one to find out what it was you were drinking. “Thanks,” you tell him, taking the cup from his hand. Turning it to read the writing, you find he’d gotten it right. Maybe you should find it creepy, actually. As it is, you’re sort of having a hard time not swooning. You beam at him. “I’ll…have to return the favor.” 

For some reason, that makes Sam laugh as he sits down across from you. “Sure.” He opens his backpack and takes out his laptop. “So, this project.” 

Sam, as it turns out, is a genius. Or at least exceptionally smart. A project that would’ve taken you hours on your own is done in record time with him, which leaves the two of you there at 7:30 with a fully completed midterm project and half-empty coffee cups. You don’t want to leave, and it seems Sam doesn’t either, as he closes his laptop and asks, “Why are you taking night classes?” like he’s really, genuinely curious. 

So you tell him. You tell him about trying to get through college on your own, deciding you needed a full time job, how it’s probably the best job you’ve ever had. You ask him the same question, and he tells you about his brother, who is, apparently, the one who drives that fucking awesome car. He drops Sam off at classes, and pretty much anywhere else he needs to go.

The two of you chat for an hour and a half before Sam gets a text that says his brother is literally going to leave him there if he doesn’t shag ass and get in the car pronto. So Sam walks you out of the library. 

“You know,” you blurt out before you can lose your nerve, “I feel like our classes would be a lot easier if we put our heads together like this. You know, regularly. Like, every Friday, maybe.” 

He ducks his head, smiling that same shy smile he’d had when he gave you the coffee. “Sure. Every Friday. Sounds…helpful.” 

You don’t realize until you get home that he never actually told you why he takes night classes. It turns out to be a pattern for him, as the two of you meet up week after week. You simultaneously feel like you know everything and nothing about him, and every week you like him more and more for it. Well, for that and the coffee that he gets you every time. 

It takes a week before he moves seats in your political science class. The Monday after the second Friday you meet up with him, you almost sit in the wrong seat because you’re so used to him sitting two rows ahead of you. Of course, when you realize what’s happened, Sam’s staring at you with an amused grin on his face, like he’s trying really hard not to laugh at you. So, you decide, you are friends, at least. And as far as friends go, Sam’s a pretty good one.

You and Sam text, constantly. Despite seeming relatively unplugged, he responds to you instantly almost every time. You hate to get your hopes up, but by the time finals roll around, you’re starting to really like him. You’re starting to think he really likes you too. 

He finishes his biology final on the last Thursday of classes long before you, but when you leave the classroom, you see him leaning against the wall, waiting. Again, you don’t want to get your hopes up, but when he lifts his head and sees you approaching him, you swear to God, you see his whole face light up.  He looks a little pale, maybe. But it also might just be the fluorescent lights of the hallway.

“How do you think you did?” he asks, falling into step beside you.

And, you think, it’s now or never, now, isn’t it? Classes are over. You may never see Sam again (although, you like to think the two of you are close enough now that you would at least remain friends outside of having classes together, but still, the sentiment remains). So you change the subject and ask, “Would you wanna get dinner with me on Saturday?” 

He pauses, freezes in place pretty much, and you stop to match him. “Dinner, like…dinner?” he asks, as if that question makes any sense. 

You laugh, a little awkward, and adjust your backpack straps. “Uh, yeah. Like, dinner.” You don’t want to explicitly mention it being a date. You feel like he likes you, you really do, but if you’re wrong…that rejection is going to sting. So you don’t say it, not explicitly. 

But still, Sam’s face lights up with a grin. “Yeah. I’d…really love to get dinner with you, actually. I’ll have to—I’ll text you. But…yes, yeah. I’d love to.” 

You’re pretty sure the smile on your face matches his. “Okay. Then, I’ll see you on Saturday. And you’ll text me.” 

“I’ll text you,” he agrees. 

The two of you linger for a moment before parting, and you have never been more excited to say goodbye to someone in your entire fucking life. 

When you get home, you have a text message. ‘I’ll pick you up. Does 7 work for you?’

You have to take a moment to squeal into your pillow before answering that yes, 7 does work for you, and you’re excited to see him then. And then, as an afterthought, your address.

God, you need to find something to wear.

Saturday comes around, and you’re fully ready by 6. Sam’s almost always shown up early, after all. Your TV plays news footage, stating that the clinics have taken to putting up extra security around their blood banks to no avail. You couldn’t care less, too giddy and girlishly excited to even think about the stolen blood bags. 

6:45 rolls around. Sam isn’t there. That’s…fine. He’s not obligated to show up early. You set up a time to pick you up for a reason, right? There’s no reason for the sinking feeling in your gut. 

7:00. No sign of Sam. But that’s no reason to worry. Maybe he got stuck in traffic. People are late sometimes, and you don’t need to panic just because Sam’s never been late before. 

At 7:30, you shoot Sam a text. ‘are you okay? don’t tell me you forgot about me :( lol’ You don’t get a response. 

You don’t change back into lounge clothes until 8, and you don’t take off your makeup until 8:30, and that’s only because you’re pretty sure you’re about to start crying and ruin it anyway. 

The real kicker is that you thought Sam, at the very least, considered you a friend. Or at least friendly enough to let you down easy rather than agree to a date and then stand you up. Clearly, you severely misread the entire situation. You entirely misunderstood Sam in general, if he’s really the type of person to do this sort of thing. 

Wiping hot tears off your face, you cork open your expensive bottle of wine. Desperate times, right?

Two hours and half a wine bottle later, you’ve swung from devastated to angry. How dare he stand you up? You’re a catch! You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you’ve ignored all of his weird quirks and red flags, and for what? To cry into a glass or five of overpriced wine on a Saturday night? Screw that. You should call him and give him a piece of your mind.

Or…no, you’re pretty drunk, actually, so you probably shouldn’t call him. But you could text him. Yeah. You fumble for your phone, furiously typing out a text and hitting send without a second thought. ‘if u werent interested in me u cldve just said so. didnt have 2 ghost me’ 

Next thing you know, you’re opening your eyes the next morning with a killer headache, a damn near empty bottle of wine, and no response from Sam. While you’re curled over the toilet, the alcohol isn’t the only thing turning your stomach. There’s a worry brewing there too. 

Because the more you think about it, the more that this really just doesn’t feel like Sam. Now that you’re further out from it, you can acknowledge that much. When you ask yourself if you truly believe that the guy who bought you your favorite drink every time you met up, the guy who remembered every single thing you ever told him, the guy whose face totally lit up when you asked him to dinner—when you ask yourself if that guy would stand you up, you truly, honestly don’t believe he would. So the real question is: why did he?

You fight through the worry until about halfway through your shift on Monday when you realize that with finals over, you have absolutely no idea when, or even if you’ll see Sam again. You call him. It rings all the way through until you get his voicemail, and you wish the sound of his voice could calm you, but it only reminds you that he’s not answering. You don’t leave a message, sending him a text instead. ‘seriously, are you okay? please at least let me know you’re not dead.’ You’re not surprised to find you haven’t gotten a response the next time you check your phone, walking to your car at the end of the day. Desperately, heart-clenchingly worried, but not surprised. 

You open your laptop the second you get home, furiously searching anything you can think of. You search for his name again, hoping to find anything that could point you towards family or friends, to the brother he mentioned. You search local obituaries, John Does, anyone who might even bear the slightest resemblance to Sam, but there’s nothing. Nothing, until you accidentally click on one of the articles about the blood theft. There, in a blurry screenshot of footage from the new security cameras one of the blood banks had installed, you see it. You recognize his brother’s gorgeous fucking car. 

Your eyes go wide. Holy shit, you’ve been flirting with a criminal. You scroll up through the article, reading furiously, but it doesn’t even mention the car, focusing instead on the blurry, shrouded figure entering the doors. Is this why Sam went missing? Laying low until he can be sure no one will connect the footage of the car to him or his brother? Why the fuck is he stealing blood bags in the first place? Needless to say, the discovery leaves you with more questions than it does answers. 

The world, unfortunately, does not stop with this revelation. You go to bed. You get up, you go to work, you come home. You think about Sam. You have no idea what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Should you go to the police? It’s not like he’s killing people but…it’s still illegal to steal blood bags. Also morally wrong, probably. Plus, you now have information that could help forward an ongoing police investigation. You’re not entirely sure what counts as aiding and abetting, but you’re not exactly itching to find out where the line is. 

On the other hand, Sam never seemed particularly…criminal-like to you. Strange, sure, but he was nice. Kind, even. You never in a million years would’ve pegged him as some sort of criminal mastermind. That’s got to count for something. Right? At the very least, you think it allows him the benefit of the doubt. So…late Tuesday night, you send him another text, the last one you’ll ever send him. Probably. ‘hey so keep ignoring me if im wrong but are you the one stealing blood from the clinics?’ 

He doesn’t text you back, and you pretend that means you’re wrong. That you can clear your conscience and go to sleep. That you can go to work and stop worrying about vintage cars in blurry security footage. 

Then the sun goes down on Wednesday, and someone knocks on your door. 

The man on the other side of it is unfamiliar to you. He’s wearing a leather jacket, an amulet hanging off his neck. There’s absolutely no reason you should recognize him as quickly as you do. Except that he has this quality about him, something unreal or maybe inhuman, and you’ve seen it before. You can’t quite tell what color his eyes are.

He smiles at you, and confirms it. “You’re ____, right? Sam’s told me all about you.” This is Sam’s brother, the one with the car. The car that you recognized in the blood bank footage. “I’m Dean. Can I come in?” 

You keep your hand on the edge of the door, ready to slam it in his face if need be. “How’d you get my address?” you ask, instead of answering the question. This man could be dangerous. You trust Sam, mostly, but his brother…that’s a different story.

“Sammy had it. Remember? For your little date.” Dean says, taking a step towards the threshold. You take a step back. “Can I come in now?” 

You ignore the fear raging down your spine, the urge to turn tail and run away. Sam carries himself differently than Dean, presents himself in such a way that instead of cowering away from him, you want to keep looking. His strangeness is intriguing, not off-putting. Dean, though, he takes those same qualities and twists them on their head. Dean looks at you, and your entire body screams Danger! Like he’s some sort of predator. “Why are you here?” 

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” he snaps. He takes another step forward, but stays notably on the other side of the door. Just barely. “Sam needs help. Are you gonna invite me in, or not?” 

He could be lying. He could be manipulating the affection you already have for his brother to get you to let him in so he can off you, maybe the only person who’s connected him to his crimes. But, if that was the case, why wouldn’t he have just forced his way in? And also, why the fuck would he go that far just to cover up some stolen blood bags? “What’s wrong with Sam?” you ask, stepping back from the door to allow him inside. When in Rome, right?

His lips press together, like he’s irritated, though you can’t imagine why. You’re letting him in, which is what he wanted. He stares at you for a moment before sighing, world weary, like he’s holding the weight of a hundred lifetimes of idiocy on his shoulders. Jesus, this guy’s dramatic. “You have to invite me,” he grits out. 

Your confusion only grows, but you oblige anyway. “Okay…come in, then.” 

Dean steps into the apartment almost as soon as you’ve said it, like you’ve only just now opened the door. You back up a few steps further. 

“Just so you know,” you say, standing up taller and trying to act less terrified than you feel, “I have a gun. So don’t- don’t try anything ‘cause I’ll shoot you.” You’re completely bluffing, of course, but there’s no way Dean could know that. 

“No, you don’t,” Dean says, like he definitely knows you were bluffing. Well, great. “Besides, I’m not here to hurt you. My brother needs help, you think I’m gonna kill the only person who can help him?” 

He doesn’t look like he’s lying. Then again, you’re pretty sure this man is a criminal, so maybe he’s just a really good liar. “Yeah, you said that before. If he needs my help so bad, why didn’t he just tell me himself?” It’s not like you slammed the door in Sam’s face and told him to leave you alone. You’ve sent him four texts and a phone call since he dropped off the face of the earth last week. He’s had every opportunity to ask for your help. 

“Cause he’s sick,” Dean tells you. He lifts his hands before he approaches you, like you’re some sort of wild animal that he doesn’t want to spook. Embarrassingly, it works. “Really sick.” 

You shake your head, bemused. “I don’t understand—what does that have to do with me? If he’s sick, he needs a doctor. Not…a random college student.” 

Dean nods. “Yeah, he would. But he’s got…it’s complicated.” He pauses in his approach and nods his head toward you. “Can I come closer, or are you gonna shoot me, tough girl?” 

You roll your eyes, but gesture him closer. “Be my guest, so long as it means you’re gonna tell me something that actually makes sense.” You’re tired of the riddles, frankly. If he doesn’t give you real answers soon, you don’t care how terrifying he is, you’re gonna have to do something drastic.

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, I can see why Sam likes you,” he mutters, shaking his head. “See, me and Sam…we’re not exactly normal. If I took him to a doctor, not only would they not be able to fix him, they’d probably kill him.” He stops beside you, forcing you to look up at him as he speaks. He cuts an intimidating figure, even without the air of a predator about him. You really, really wish you actually owned a gun.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, voice quiet in the face of this hunter. “That you’re not normal?” 

He grins, big and sharp and toothy. And then his illusion drops. Your eyes seem to fail you, like someone’s dropped the floor out from under you and then told you the floor was never real in the first place. His eyes catch your attention first, blood red and striking. And then, of course, you see his teeth—no, his fangs. Two long, sharp, killer fangs where his canines used to be. “Welcome to the night of the living dead, sweetheart.”

Vampires are real. There’s a monster in your fucking living room. This is crazy. You should be screaming. You should shove this man out the door and lock it behind him and maybe never leave your apartment again. Instead, you blurt out, “So that’s why you were stealing blood bags.” Honestly, a lot of things are starting to make way more sense now. You’re almost embarrassed you didn’t think of it before. 

Dean laughs. “Right on the money.” You flinch as he claps you on the shoulder, and he laughs at you again. 

“So…I’m guessing Sam doesn’t just have a regular old stomach bug, then?” You really feel like you should be having a more extreme reaction to this situation. You just found out that not only are vampires real, but you’ve been actively flirting with one. You think maybe you’re in shock. “This is some sort of weird…vampire virus, or something?” 

“Smart girl,” he says, pointing at you approvingly. “Though it’s not exactly a virus, more like…food poisoning. Actually, we call it blood poisoning. Comes from drinking stale blood—bagged blood, for example—rather than fresh from the source.” 

You frown. “Why drink bagged blood, then, if it makes you sick?” 

“Why do people go vegan even though they need protein?” Dean counters. “Harm reduction. Plus, it doesn’t always make us sick. It’s pretty rare, actually. More common now than, you know, the olden times, but it happened back then too. Storing blood in vials, bottles, anything can make blood go stale, but it means you don’t have to hurt as many people getting it. Some things are worth the risk.” 

That much, at least, you can understand. “So this…this stale blood, whatever—it makes you sick,” you repeat, that same worry for Sam from before roiling in your stomach again. “How sick?” 

Dean grimaces, so whatever it is is clearly not good news. “It can kill us. Pretty easily, too. I have to tell you, I don’t know exactly how it works. Sam’s way better at this sort of thing.” He taps his fingers against your coffee table. “But I do know how to fix it.” 

It’s pretty easy to guess. Dean’s here, despite the fact his brother is apparently dying, and there’s really only one thing you have that they don’t. “He needs blood,” you say quietly, beating Dean to the punch. “Fresh blood.” 

He nods and shoots you a stilted smile. “Quick on the draw, huh?” The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he sighs, shaking his head. “Sam hates what he is. Doesn’t matter that he’ll die without it, he won’t hurt anyone. He just won’t.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly uncomfortable with Dean’s intense stare, like he can see straight into your soul. “So- so, what am I supposed to do about it?” you ask, your shoulders shrugging helplessly. “I’m still a person. I can’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to do.” 

Dean takes a step toward you, and this time you don’t step back or shrink away. He’s dangerous, sure, but not to you. Not as long as you’re the only thing standing between his brother and certain death. “Look, Sam really likes you. If he knew I was here right now, and he wasn’t on his deathbed, he’d kill me. But I just—I’ve tried. It’s been a week, and I’ve tried so hard—” He ducks his head as he cuts off, his jaw working over clenched teeth. “I know that you care about him, right? I mean, I saw the texts; I know—I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate. I can’t just sit around and watch my little brother die. I had to try. I have to try.” 

Seeing him now, you almost can’t believe you were afraid of him. He looks almost terrified himself. And despite the uncertainty you feel, the fear, well…there’s a clear answer here. Yes, there’s a chance Sam refuses to feed from you, but there’s also a chance to save him. You can’t just stand back and let him die because you’re scared. “Okay.”

Dean’s eyes snap to yours again. They sparkle with hope, and even though the illusion is dropped, even though his eyes are red and his teeth are viciously sharp, for the first time since you first saw him, he looks human. “Okay?” 

“Take me to him,” you tell him, moving past him to grab your coat off the hanger by your door. “Let me try to save him.” 

Dean gives you the key to the apartment and a wish good luck, but stays in the car (which, yes, is just as nice as you imagined, though you wish you’d gotten to experience it under different circumstances). He tells you as you climb out the passenger door, “If this goes the way I hope it does, you two aren’t gonna want me there. Trust me.” 

Apprehension keeps you rooted outside the locked door, biting a hole through your bottom lip. There’s a lot of ways this could go. Quite a few of them could end up with you dead, and you’d be a fool not to acknowledge that. Then again, you’d also be a fool not to acknowledge what you know about Sam, what Dean’s told you about him today. Kind, gentle Sam, who is sick and dying, but apparently still refuses to hurt anyone. Who drinks from blood bags, despite the risk, simply because it means he can live without harming others. He doesn’t deserve to die.

You take a deep breath, and unlock the door. 

The apartment is…Well, it’s a little dingy, but it’s cozy. Homey. There’s clutter and trinkets on every shelf, books that look so old that you fear they’d disintegrate if you touched them. It occurs to you, then, that you don’t know how old Sam actually is. A memory flashes in your mind of his name mentioned in records from the 1800s. Holy shit. 

“Dean?” You recognize Sam’s voice, but it’s thin and croaky. Weak. Really sick, Dean had said. “Are you home?” 

  You follow the sound of his voice into a bedroom, and the stale smell of illness almost makes you stumble back from the doorway. It doesn’t smell bad, necessarily, so much as still and wrong. Sam’s been in this room, wallowing in sickness, for a week. Your heart aches for him. “Not Dean,” you say quietly, hoping not to spook him. You approach the bed, and only just keep from gasping at the state of the man curled up in it. Sam is pale and sunken, visibly weak and malnourished. He’s trembling, shaking all over with chills, maybe, or just tremors in general. 

His face changes when he hears your voice, his brows furrowed in confusion. He opens his eyes and peers up at you over his cocoon of blankets. His eyes, like Dean’s, are red, but unlike Dean’s, they’re glassy and tired, his eyelids fluttering like he’s struggling to keep them open. “____? What…what’re you doing here?” He pushes himself up to sit, and you can see the effort it takes him to do even that, his arms shaking under his own weight. 

You sit gingerly on the edge of the bed beside him. “Dean sent me,” you tell him, ratting Dean out immediately. 

Sam groans, rubbing his hands over his eyes. The veins in his hands are standing out, ugly, mottled red under pale skin. As if the blood really had poisoned him. “I’m gonna kill him.” Wow, Dean hadn’t even exaggerated, huh?

“Not like this, you’re not,” you mutter, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “Jesus, Sam…” He’s ice cold to the touch like he’s been out in the snow for hours. You curl your hands around his, trying to warm him. 

His gaze flicks to them, your hands barely covering his. “Sorry I missed our date,” he says, mournful like he really is repentant, like standing you up is the worst sin he could’ve possibly committed. “It…was a date, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it—I meant for it to be.” You huff out a laugh, sympathetic as you smile at him. “And, you know, somehow I can’t find it in myself to hold it against you.” 

Sam laughs, and for the first time, you catch a glimpse of his fangs. They’re just as viciously sharp as Dean’s, but they somehow look less dangerous on Sam. You’d worry you’d been charmed or something (isn’t that supposed to be something vampires can do? You have to admit, you’re a little out of the loop of vampire lore), if you weren’t certain that Sam would never do something like that. No, not charmed, not in any sort of magical sense. “I’ll die happy then.” 

Wow, you see the dramatics run in the family. “You’re not going to die,” you say firmly, releasing Sam’s hand to brush his bangs out of his face. He’s freezing all over. It makes you want to wrap him up in your arms, make sure he never goes cold again. You settle for pressing your palm against his cheek, your fingers cupping around his jaw. 

“I am, though,” he shoots back, like he’s arguing about who’s answer on the homework is right, not about his actual, literal life. “I’m going to die. But that’s—it’s okay. It’s been a week, so I’ve sort of come to terms with it.” 

“Screw that.” You turn more firmly towards him, pulling your legs under you to kneel on the bed. “Seriously, screw that. I can help you. If you think I’m just gonna- what, stand aside and let you die, then you really don’t know me at all.” 

“Sure. And you’re just gonna fix me, huh?” He shakes his head, turning it away from you with a huff. “All sunshine and rainbows after that. Not like I’ll have to bleed you to get better, right? Oh, wait.” Oh, he’s such a fucking diva, even on his deathbed, apparently.

“Oh, my God—yeah! I sort of figured it wouldn’t exactly be pleasant.” You didn’t spend all that time hesitating at the door because you thought it would be a walk in the park. “But if the choice is between that and letting you die, there’s no contest. I don’t understand why you’re so set on it when I’m sitting here offering you a solution!” 

“Maybe I don’t want to be saved!” His outburst silences you, especially because it seems to take a lot of energy from him to snap at you like that. He stares you down, red eyes meeting yours, and you…you don’t know what to say to that. 

You can lead a horse to water, but… “Sam—”

He cuts you off with another shake of his head. “Dean…he used to tell me that what we are doesn't make us monsters, it’s what we do. And I really wish I believed that, but the thing is, I…am going to die if I don’t feed from someone, like- like a fucking parasite. What is that if not monstrous?” 

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” you tell him. Slowly, cautiously, you reach for his face and replace your hand on his cheek, turning his gaze to meet yours. “I actually happen to think you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I don’t know what kind of monster would’ve apologized for getting deathly ill and accidentally standing me up.” 

His eyes flick over your face, like he’s searching for something. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” His voice, thin and mournful, is heartbreaking. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know—I’ve never been sick like this before. It’s possible I won’t have a lot of control if I feed on you like this.” 

That’s sort of what you were afraid of. But that’s the benefit of him feeding from you, rather than some random person off the street, right? You know what’s going on. “I won’t let you go too far,” you assure him. “Sam, please. I want to do this for you. Let me…let me help you.” 

His eyes meet yours, and he seems to find what he’s looking for. He lifts his hand and brushes your hair back off your neck. “If I do this—if—it’ll hurt, at first,” he tells you, placing his hand on your shoulder. Just resting there. It sends sparks down your spine all the same. “But not for long. It’ll start to feel good, kind of like getting high. But if I—I’m not going to bite you if I’m not sure you’ll be able to stop me if I take too much.” 

“I’ll stop you. If I have to.” You trust him, mostly. But you’re also aware that he hasn’t fed in a week, so you’re prepared to have to at least alert him to your blood loss. 

His fingers trail along your neck, goosebumps following in his wake. His eyes follow the path of his touch, and his hands may be hesitant, but you can see the hunger in his eyes. Maybe you can make the horse drink, after all. “Are you sure?” he asks, and his hand moves to the back of your head. Bracing. 

“I told you—” you say, your voice coming out almost as quiet as a breath— “I want to do this for you.” 

“Okay.” He leans forward until you can feel his breath on your neck. It’s almost cold, unnaturally so. “Tilt your head a little more, that way—there you go,” he instructs, and that tone in his voice is…yeah. You are definitely glad Dean didn’t come in with you. His lips brush your skin when he speaks next, “Ready?” 

“Yes.” You’re not sure how you manage to get your voice to come out as stable as it does. You bring your hands up to brace on his shoulders, and your grip goes a bit tighter when you feel his fangs press, just barely, against your skin. “Yeah, I’m—go ahead.” 

You’ve never been bitten by a vampire before. You have no frame of reference of whether this is what it’s like every time, or if it’s just a Sam thing. Or if it’s just a you and Sam thing. But the whole process is intensely intimate in a way you weren’t expecting. Even when he first sinks his fangs in and it stings, makes you draw in a sharp breath. He’s a little uncoordinated, you think, and maybe goes in at a weird angle, because he draws his teeth out to sink them in again, but not before his tongue flicks out to catch the blood that drips down the side of your neck. The gasp that escapes you this time is not just from the pain.

He was right, of course. It does hurt at first. But the pain is offset by his hand on your head, his fingers curling just so to grip your hair. You swear you can feel in real time as he gets his strength back. As your blood flushes the sickness out of him. You’re not sure there is anything more intimate than that. 

You think maybe you expected a transition between pain and euphoria, but there is no slow fade. In between one blink and the next, the pain disappears, replaced with a floaty, echoing pleasure that has your fingers clutching at Sam’s shirt. Everything around you goes a little unfocused, fuzzy, except for everywhere Sam touches, where you swear your nerves are lighting up with sparks and ecstasy. You might be making noises. It’s a little hard to tell, your senses dampened as they are. 

“Sam…” You shove a little at his shoulders when you notice your hands start to shake. He hums, and you feel it on your skin. You can see, now, why he likened this feeling to getting high, although you’re not sure it’s the feeding that you can see yourself getting addicted to. You shove him a little harder. “Gettin’ dizzy here.” 

He pulls back from your neck, and your senses return to you in a rush of sound and a pinprick sort of ache where his teeth had sunk into your skin. You watch, full focused vision returned, as Sam wipes at his mouth and then drags his tongue over his hand, now free of mottled veins, to catch the blood that had, you assumed, spilled as he drank from you. Like he can’t bear to waste a single drop. You swallow thickly, your mouth suddenly very dry. 

“You taste like…” He trails off, and then his mouth is on you again, but not biting. No, his tongue drags up your throat, and it occurs to you—vaguely, through the fog of earth-shattering, soul-bending lust that settles over you—that if blood had spilled down his mouth, then it stands to reason that it had made a mess of your neck as well. Not that you’re complaining, if this is the result of a little mess. He makes a soft noise against your skin, his breath hot now in a way it hadn’t been before. “Taste like…” His voice peters off again, distracted or just unable to find the words to describe it.

Yeah, screw this. “Let me find out for myself,” you murmur, your hands moving from his shoulders to his face—and his skin, too, is warmer now, almost the temperature you would generally expect it would be—until you can drag him into a kiss. The answer, as it turns out, is blood. You taste like blood, although you sort of assume it tastes different to him. Strangely, the flavor isn’t as off-putting as you would assume, especially not when he groans and uses his grip on your hair to tilt your head, kiss you deeper. !You lick into his mouth, tasting your actual, literal blood on his tongue, and you…don’t have the words to describe how absurdly hot it is.  

He’s not careful with his fangs, not really, lets them catch on your bottom lip and draw out pinpricks of blood that he soothes with his tongue. It makes the whole thing a little messy; he’s got blood smeared over his lips when you pull back to breathe. Your eyes track his tongue as he licks it up. 

His hand, the one that’s not braced on the back of your head, brushes against the skin of your waist under the hem of your shirt. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly, still so close that you can feel the words on your lips. 

Is this okay? You almost have to laugh at the question. As if you hadn’t wanted him since the first moment you saw him. “Yeah,” you tell him, a little smile tugging at your lips. “It is so absolutely more than okay.” 

At your confirmation, he smiles too, and his hand rests more firmly on your waist, almost grounding. “Well, I didn’t buy you dinner first. Wouldn’t want you to think I was ungentlemanly,” he says, drawing a soft laugh from you. 

“Aw, well. You did try.” You press forward, leaving a short kiss on his lips as your hand shifts from his face to tangle your fingers through his hair. “Plus, I mean…technically, I—”

Sam cuts you off with a kiss, but you can feel his grin against your mouth. “That does not count,” he protests.

“I dunno,” you say, a little sing-song in your voice as you grin at him. “I did quite literally just save your life. I think we might be a little past dinner.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head at you. He’s not annoyed though. You can tell, because his fingers flex on your waist and then move, brushing up your side. “Uh-huh. Sounds to me like I’m slacking.” He ducks his head and presses two short, soft kisses to your neck, right on top of the pinprick aches. “I’ll have to repay you. You did just save my life, after all.” 

Almost subconsciously, your fingers tighten in his hair. Anticipation settles in the small space between you, a space that grows even smaller when his hand presses against the small of your back and tugs your closer. “I did just save your life,” you repeat, your voice significantly breathier than it was before.

He laughs, a little puff of breath against your skin, and his lips drag down your throat in a line of open mouthed kisses until it lands at your pulse point. You swear to God, time slows down as he breathes in, slow and deep like he’s smelling your blood beneath your skin, and then presses his teeth to it until you can feel the points of them, precarious like water pooled on top of a penny. He doesn’t bite down, doesn’t break the skin, but fuck, you almost want him to. It seems like he wants to, too, as he closes his mouth with a snap. “Fuck…” He pulls back and lifts his eyes to yours. “Can I taste you? Please?” 

It takes you a second to understand what, exactly, he means. He’d already tasted you; if he wanted more blood, he could’ve just bitten you again. Then, it clicks, and you…well, what are you supposed to say to that? Sam Winchester, all big, cow eyes and mouth smeared with your blood, so politely asking to eat you out, like you’d be giving him a gift. How could you possibly turn that down? “Yeah. Yeah, fuck, that’s—yeah.” 

You only see his answering smile for half a second before his lips are on yours again, kissing, biting, while his hand caresses over the bare skin of your stomach. His kiss, his touch, is almost overwhelming, doesn’t leave you much room to think about anything else but him. Not that you really want to. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, pulls back just far enough from you to speak, and even then you can feel his lips move against yours as he asks, “Can I take this off?” 

You really do laugh this time, drawing your hands down his neck and over his shoulders. “I appreciate the whole gentleman thing, I really do, but Sam, baby, I’ve wanted you since before I even knew your name. So let’s just assume that whatever you wanna do, I really fuckin’ want it, too.” 

His eyes flick over your face, and you can literally feel the cocky ass grin he gets at that. It is, unfortunately, like everything else he does, ridiculously sexy. “That long, huh?” He’s such a dick. You want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your entire life. He tugs back and drags his gaze down your torso, his hand leaving your hair to join the other in toying with the hem of your shirt. “Guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer, then.” His hands brush against the skin of your stomach as he pulls your shirt up and over your head before tossing it aside, not caring where it lands. You’ll find it later. Or you won’t. 

His eyes lave over your newly bare skin, his hands following shortly behind. “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing his palms flat against your stomach and dragging them up your ribs. “Can you lay back for me, darling?” he asks, even as his hands press you back against the mattress before you can respond. 

You go easily, not in the least because the name knocks the breath out of you. “Darling?” you echo, shifting until you’re resting comfortably against the nest of pillows at the head of the bed. 

Sam climbs over you, his knee nudging yours until you spread your legs to make room for his hips to settle between your thighs. “Is that alright?” he asks, ducking his head to press his lips to the hinge of your jaw. 

More than alright, if the fluttering in your stomach is anything to go by. “It’s fine,” you say, playing it cool. Then, because his hands are rubbing up and down the bare skin of your sides and his teeth (the blunt ones, not the fangs, because he has much more self control than you do) are nipping at the skin of your neck, you play it decidedly uncool and continue, “Darling.” 

You feel his answering smile against the skin of your collarbone as he and his kisses and his teeth travel down the line of your neck and chest, pausing at the edge of your bra. He lifts his eyes to meet yours through his lashes as his lips press the softest of kisses there. “‘M gonna take this off, now,” he tells you, his voice deep and rumbling. His hands move up your back, and you arch your spine to allow him room to do so. He undoes your bra clasp without removing his lips from your chest, tugs the garment down your arms and tosses it vaguely in the same direction as your shirt without a second thought. 

“I thought about this, you know,” he says, softly, against the skin in the valley of your breasts. “Getting my mouth on you. How it would feel.” He shifts his attention, his lips closing over your nipple while his hand palms your other breast. It draws a soft gasp from your lips, your fingers twisting in his hair. “How you’d sound,” he continues, his voice a little cocky now. 

“Sam…” His name falls from your lips on an exhale, like you’re breathing him in, like he’s pumping through your veins the same way you’re now pumping through his. 

He smirks. If you thought he was cocky before… “Yeah, pretty much—” He presses that smirk against one nipple and brushes his thumb over the other, and while your head is dropping back onto the pillows with a moan, he laves his tongue over it to make you moan even louder— “just like that.” He's got you so distracted, you almost don't notice his free hand trailing down your stomach, brushing along the waistband of your jeans, not until his fingers undo the button with practiced ease. 

“Oh, God, you are so unfairly hot.” You lift your head to watch as he kisses his way down your stomach until he finally reaches your waistband with his mouth, too, and leaves a nippy little bite there. 

He laughs, glances up at you with that fucking smirk as he drags your jeans down your hips. “Unfair to who? You?” The two of you maneuver a bit until he can tug your pants off your ankles and toss them aside, another clothing casualty lost to the war on your sanity led by the swooping in your gut whenever Sam looks at you like that. 

“Not me,” you elaborate, although it’s hard to do so when Sam’s hands are settling on your hips and his thumbs are rubbing slow circles on your skin and dipping just so under the elastic of your panties on every other pass. “But, like, every other guy. How is anyone supposed to compete with…this?” 

This being Sam motherfucking Winchester, who had spent months shyly testing the waters and cautiously flirting so subtly that you were terrified you’d read him wrong, suddenly suave and confident and practically begging to eat you out. Oh, and also being, objectively, the hottest monster. This man has been terrorizing the dating pool for maybe centuries. You shudder to think how many women’s standards he has completely obliterated. 

Continuing the streak of obliterating your standards, he ducks his head, that shy smile on his lips again. “I mean, I should hope no one is competing with me in this particular instance,” he says, voice hesitant as if there’s a chance on Earth you’d ever turn him down. 

You shake your head, and honestly, you can’t help but laugh because a literal vampire is about to go down on you, and somehow the most unbelievable part of this situation is that he thinks he has an ounce of competition. “Are you actually asking me if I want to be exclusive right now?” you ask, drawing a hand up and through his hair, brushing his fringe off his forehead. “Because I feel like I made it so obvious how much I like you. Obviously, there is no competition.” 

You have the honor of watching Sam blush for the first time, and knowing that you made it possible. Your blood flushes his cheeks, makes his face go the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. 

 “Obviously,” he echoes, his words brushing against the skin just above your panties. His hands brush down your thighs, and he pulls one of your legs up and over his shoulder so your heel rests against his back. He turns his head, and with your thigh now bracketing his head, it’s easy for him to press an open-mouthed kiss there, and then another, and then another until he’s brought you back practically to panting again. 

“‘M gonna make you see stars,” he tells you, his lips pressed against the crease where your thigh meets your hip. “And then, because I am a gentleman, I’m going to buy you dinner. And I’m gonna be thinking about this—” He nips at your skin, bares his fangs this time and draws a well of blood and a gasp from you simultaneously— “The way you taste; the way you feel—I’m gonna be thinking about it the whole time.” He draws his hands back up to your hips just to tuck his fingers under the elastic of your panties, lifting his eyes to yours as he tugs on it. “Can I take these off?” 

You think you might die if he doesn’t. “Please.” 

His fangs seem to glint in the light when he grins, but he ducks his head before you can look again, a sort of hyperfocus to his posture as he shifts your hips and legs until he can pull your underwear off your ankles, and finally, finally, leaves you bare to him. He doesn’t waste a second, his hands dragging up your thighs and then spreading them further, his eyes roving over you like you’re the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen. “Gorgeous.” His voice, breathy and sweet, washing over you is the only warning you get before his lips press against you in a surprisingly gentle kiss. 

Your lungs expand on a gasp, and then deflate on a moan as he laves his tongue between your folds, the muscle pressed flat and soft like a tease. Or a preview. You’re not totally sure you’re going to survive this actually. You might die with Sam’s tongue licking over your pussy, and honestly, what a fucking way to go. 

“Taste so good all over, huh?” Oh, holy fuck, he’s still talking. His lips brush over your skin and make you whine, and you’re pretty sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice better than you can hear him. “Feel like I should thank you. Letting me feed from you, and now this?” He makes it sound like it’s some sacrifice to let him go down on you, like you’re not gripping his hair so tight you’re surprised you’re not pulling it out. “You’re perfect.” 

“Oh, my God,” your voice comes out high and tight as he closes his lips over your clit and sucks. Your back arches off the bed, but as your hips shift to press up against his mouth, you find his hand pressed low on your stomach, pinning you down. “Sam—oh, my God.” 

You can feel as much as hear the soft, contented hums he’s making, like he’s never wanted to be anywhere more than with his head between your legs and his tongue drawing circles over your clit. His fangs, sharp and dangerous, are almost artfully pressed against your skin, just barely enough to feel the points of them. His free hand, the one not pressing you down against the mattress, keeps trailing up and down the outside of your thigh, making you shiver and press your heel into his back. And it’s so obvious he’s loving this maybe even as much as you are, his whole body shifting as he grinds down against the mattress, and God, that feels almost as good as his mouth on your cunt does. He’s getting off on the taste of you, on making you squirm and whine and moan.

It’s over the second he presses his tongue against your entrance and his nose smushes against your clit—everything after that is a jumble of sensation. The feeling of his tongue fucking in and out, his nose rubbing against you with every movement of his mouth, his hand grabbing at your thigh and holding your legs open when your muscles go tense and tight and anticipatory. 

He draws his tongue out of you with an obscene slurping sound that just has you hurtling even faster towards the edge, your hands grabbing at his hair for dear fucking life, white knuckled. “Are you gonna come?” he asks, his voice low and gruff and almost fucked out. You squeeze your eyes shut, nodding as if it wasn’t obvious from the constant stream of noises spilling from your lips. “Yeah? Go on, come on my tongue. Give it to me, darling, let me taste it.” 

How could you resist that? His words and his stupidly talented mouth draw you over the edge, your pussy spasming as you do exactly as he asked and come on his tongue. True to his word, he does, in fact, make you see stars, lights sparking behind your eyelids. His mouth works you through it until you’re whining and using your grip on his hair to tug him away, oversensitive as you come down from an explosive fucking orgasm. 

He presses kisses on your inner thigh as he shifts it off his shoulder, your body loose and pliant now. “There you go, good girl.” The words make your cunt give a valiant twitch, even as he draws himself up your body until he’s laying beside you and pressing kisses over your face. “Was that good?” 

You peek one eye open to look at him, incredulous. “Was that good—you’re so ridiculous, c’mere.” You turn your head to draw him into a slow, lingering kiss. Much like the taste of your blood in his mouth, the taste of your pussy on his tongue is, frankly, life-changing. You’re addicted already. 

He draws back with a soft laugh, his eyes traveling over your face with such obvious fondness that you have to press another quick kiss against his lips. “Okay, understood.” He brings his hand up to brush over your face, soft and gentle and such a contrast to the obscene pleasure he’d taken in going down on you that it makes your cheeks go warm. “So when can I buy you that dinner?” 

The question gives you pauses, and your eyes flick down his body, curious. “Did you not want me to…” 

You watch your blood, again, flood his cheeks as he laughs and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “That’s not—I really like giving head,” he explains, as if that is not literally the hottest thing he could’ve possibly said. 

Fuck dinner, you wanna go five rounds with him back to back right now. “Okay,” you say, because he’s very sweet and he wants to be a gentleman and who are you to take that from him? “You can take me to dinner, if you swear you’ll let me suck you off when we get back. Deal?” 

The way his face lights up is worth having to wait. “Deal.”  

“And,” you continue, your hand smoothing over his hair where your grip had mussed it up, “next time you need blood, let’s just skip the whole ‘I’m a monster’ thing. I am more than willing to supply you; I have a vested interest in keeping you around.” 

He rolls his eyes, but the way he kisses you, fangs and all, tells you he gets it.

[another-random-paradise]

hello! if you're up to it i've had this one idea in my head for a long time that i just need to see written out

basically maybe short drabbles/hcs about leona, jamil, and vil with a reader who, on days where they're tired, is super affectionate physically as in they might see him pass by in the hall and take his hand for a moment/just search for him to get a hug from him, or comes up to him randomly and puts their head on his shoulder — maybe even in a few classes if they're REALLY exhausted, tldr reader just needs some affection when they're tired and loves receiving physical affection </3

~ ☆

Thank you for this lovely request!! I’m the same haha, nothing like a good hug when your tired <3 also I am so so sorry you had to wait this long, I’ve had a lot going on lately,, I really hope I did the request justice <3

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

Reader whose affectionate when tired

Characters: Leona, Jamil, Vil

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that I can think of

Leona

-Leona is in heaven

-or at least he thought he was at first

-After all, you being affectionate when tired, means more naps with you!

-except that, thanks to these naps, you aren't tired anymore, and don't seek his  affection as often anymore. And the lazy lion has already gotten so used to it, that he finds it annoying to sleep without it now.

-He'd much prefer you'd just constantly had the urge to nap, like him

-You'll find him grumbling to himself, whenever you don't feel as affectionate, just as you'll find him with a smug grin whenever you cuddle into him while he lazes around the botanical gardens 

-Jack once overheard Leona grumbling, with his tail swishing around angrily, and Jack was confused to say the least, seeing as how the lion was just grinning at you a few seconds ago

-turns out you just weren't all that tired that day, and, in Leonas opinion, didn't give him enough affection before running of - not that he'd ever admit that 

-overall he really loves your affectionate side and wouldn't mind seeing it more often

Jamil

-conflicted, to say the least

-he genuinely loves you and your affection, he really does, but he's got a lot of work and a kalim who he needs to keep alive-

-He has fallen into a sort of routine when you feel sleepy, which is to get you comfortably to sleep as soon as possible 

-If your at Scarabia, he'll bring you to a more secluded couch (you cannot tell me that those couches aren't as comfortable as can be), lay you down, maybe with some hot tea, and stay with you till you very quickly fall asleep

-if you're at school, he always has some sort of coffee at hand to wake you up, or something sugary if you don't drink coffee! he'll make sure it's still somewhat healthy though

-should you fall asleep on him in class, he'll take notes and asks questions for you. Occasionally just looks at you for a few moments, his grades need to be worse than Kalims anyway, so he can't completely partake in the class anyway

-If you get caught by a professor though, he'll just chuckle a bit. 

-You can get mad at him for not waking you up, but he doesn't regret anything, he'll treasure in any time spend with you, where he doesn't have to worry about Kalim.

-on the very VERY rare chance that he has a day off, he basks in your affection! He'll most likely need to catch up on all the sleep he lost to Kalims shenanigans, so you two will most likely be cuddling in his bed, or on one of the couches in an otherwise empty lounge

-Or, maybe, to make sure Kalim doesn't barge in and ruin the moment, the two of you are at ramshackle, after sending Grim to heartslabyul! 

-on rare occasions Grim does join you two, curling up next to you, while muttering something about Jamil stealing his henchmen. You three almost look like a family <3 

Vil

-At first, Vil was confused as to why you'd sometimes be so much more affectionate than normally, but very quickly figured out the pattern; The more tired you are, the more affection he gets.

-He'd be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy the affection, it feels nice to be wanted by someone he genuinely cares for, who genuinely cares for him.

-BUT he doesn't like you not getting enough sleep, what kind of lover would he be if he just lets you miss your needed beauty sleep?!

-Also, he is a busy person with a reputation to uphold; he can't exactly film a movie or brew a potion with your arms wrapped around him, no matter how cute you may look..

-He does Indulge you, letting you cling to him when he isn't as busy, or in between classes, but never without a light scold about the importance of proper sleep!

-If you're clingy for a longer period of time, for example a whole week, he'll try to find out why, and then help you; If you stressed because of a test, he'll help you study, if something is worrying you, he'll pull out all the tricks to help you relax, ect.

-If you're just lonely, well.. he supposes you can sleep over ever so often, as long as he still gets his much needed beauty rest

-The first time this happens, he realises how much better he sleeps with you next to him, how much better the both of you sleep! 

-It very quickly becomes routine; that way you'll get your affection when you're tired in the evenings, but the two can still follow your normal routine during the day!

-...though he does miss, the way you'd hug him from behind in the hallway, or the way you'd lay your head on his shoulder when Professor Trein was being particularly boring.. maybe letting you stay up longer when neither of you have anything important the next day would'nt be all that bad.. 

Once again, just so very sorry it took this long, I promise I didn’t make you wait on purpose, I’m always trying to reply and write as fast as possible <3

Feedback is welcome, just be nice please! Hope you have a wonderful night/day

[omgthatdress]

An Analysis of the Ubiquity of Mall Brands in the late 1990s to early 2000s, or

I Fucking Hate These Guys

by OMG!thatdress

If you were a tween to teenager from roughly 1997 to 2004, chances are, you were left with profound life-long trauma caused by someone wearing Tommy Hilfiger, Abercrombie & Fitch, Ralph Lauren, Nautica, American Eagle, The Gap, Old Navy, or, if you were came along a little later, Hollister or Aeropoastale.

I cannot overstate to my young followers how over-saturated these brand names were in teen culture at the turn of the millennium, the extend to which EVERYONE was wearing them, and yet, in a weird way, how light the imprint they actually left on fashion history was.

Watching iconic teen shows of the era, you don't see any of them because a.) TV teenagers tend to be way cooler and more stylish than awkward and desperate real teenagers actually are, and b.) these brands were all copyright protected, which kept their names and logos off the airwaves.

Look in a middle school yearbook, however, you'll see it. Look at your aunt and uncle's high school photo albums, you'll see it. Ask any late Gen X or early Millennial. It was real and it was fucking awful.

The big question is why? Why? WHY, GOD WHY?! There's a lot of answers to that question.

First of all, I'm going to cite this absolutely wonderful article from Collector's Weekly about why everyone's grandma had a hideous orange couch in the 70s, and give the most simple and straightforward answer: it's what was available.

This is when the concept of online shopping is still very much in its infancy, and the hub of American consumer culture was still your local mall. If you needed new clothes, you went to the mall. And guess what stores were at every local mall? You guessed it.

For the second answer, I'm going to dig up this utter relic from the early days of internet meme-ing, that has nonetheless stuck with me and had a profound impact of my understanding of how popular fashion works:

I'm pretty sure that the reason Abercrombie & Fitch manages to survive as a brand today rests solely increasingly middle-aged Millennial men whose sense of style has refused to evolve past the shit their mom bought them in high school.

And why the hell would they? Nobody wore Abercrombie because it made them stand out or feel special. I'm still pretty convinced that nobody actually *liked* the aesthetic or thought the clothes actually looked good. You need not look past the basic color palette to understand these were not brands meant for uniqueness or self-expression.

While Britney Spears pranced around stage in her iconic neon colors and body glitter, American teenagers existed in a never-ending hellscape of washed-out neutrals, faded denim, and American flag primary colors.

All of which served its exact purpose: it was safety. It was a way to appear cool if you didn't want to go through the ordeal of actually having a personality or a sense of style. Which, of course, goes back to point number one: it was just shit you bought at the mall because you needed clothes.

It wasn't enough to save you once the school bully caught that whiff of autism and/or queerness on you, but it was enough that you could blend into the herd and pray no one ever noticed you.

Underneath it all was a very subtle undercurrent of class and classism: to wear mall brands was to declare to the world that you could indeed afford to shop at the mall. It meant you weren't, god forbid, poor.

Status symbol clothing goes back to the invention of clothing itself. The concept of brands as status symbols is still very much alive and well, its just more limited to actual luxury brands nowadays. One need look no further than your favorite high-end children's clothing website to see that rich parents still very much think it important that you know their five-year-old is wiping its boogers on Versace.

None of these brands were actual high-end luxury brands, but they still advertised and presented themselves as such. Their ads featured signifiers of "all-american" (read: White) wealth: yachts, skiing, horses, beaches, shirtless dudes with chiseled abs playing verious sportsballs.

The color palettes and cuts mimicked the preppy "Ivy" style of the New England old-money elite, along with their hobbies and lifestyle. You may not actually own a horse, but you can wear a polo shirt. You may not be able to run without breaking your ankle, but you wear the same shirt as the dude holding a football in the ad.

It was an elitist, White and skinny image that didn't age well into the diversity and body-positivity of the 2010s.

In 2003, a lawsuit was filed against Abercrombie & Fitch alleging systematic racial discrimination. People of color were rarely hired, and if they were, they were given jobs in the back, away from customer view. In 2005, the U.S. district court approved a settlement of $50,000. A few years ago, Netflix released the documentary White Hot: The Rise and Fall of Abercrombie & Fitch which admittedly I haven't watched yet because my hatred runs too deep to remind myself of its existence.

It was a hatred of Abercrombie & the (white, thin, neurotypical, heterosexual) conformity that it represented that drove me screaming into the loving arms of Hot Topic and Linkin Park. Jordan Calhoun wrote an excellent article for the Atlantic about his experience growing up poor and Black and not fitting in to the Abercrombie aesthetic.

I would be very remiss if I didn't bring up the "urban" mall brands of the early 2000s: Fubu, Sean Jean, Ecko, Baby Phat, among others. They were favored by Black teenagers and White teenagers who wanted to be Black. I know there's a lot to be said about these brands, but I'm too Caucasian to really be able to talk about them with nuance. Maybe someone else will, and I will be very happy to listen.

As much as I hate Tommy Hilfiger, I really do have to give him credit for recognizing the incredibly lucrative "street wear" market and selling power of hip-hop. While most of these mall brands kept their image sparkling White, Tommy made Aaliyah his brand ambassador and regularly appeared in the wardrobes of popular rap and R&B artists of the time.

It'd be very easy and very reductive to say that the changing ideology of the 2010s was the downfall of preppy mall brands, but really, the thing that truly killed them was the downfall of the mall itself. Shopping habits changed, and logos and brand names no longer held the power they once had.

The moral of the story is that being a teenager is fucking hell, and these popular brands both offered the safety of conformity and a status symbol to hold over the heads of the poor and uncool. The irony is that everyone who hated them as teenagers (read: ME) and the freaks who grew up to truly love the power of self-expression through personal style (read: ME) became the truly cool people. If you wore Abercrombie you grew up to vote for Donald Trump.

GO GOTH. PREPS SUCK. THE END.

[dreaisgrayte]

"Just Friends" Full Fic | Kyojuro Rengoku x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, kissing, heavy making out, biting, licking, nails, rough, creampie, breeding kink (discovery, love that for them), and masturbation with a toy (not specified)

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: crouched over like a little gremlin writing this in my bed for the last 3 days. I hope it delivers what was wanted. I only finished it today thanks to K-pop and the aggressive words of my best friend. Thank you Enhypen and K <3

The apartment was usually buzzing with activity, the hardwood scuffed from countless couches pushed around on its surface. While others might think it dingy, you felt it added to the unit's story – besides if it weren’t for the scuffs you wouldn’t have gotten a killer discount. You’d kiss them every day if it meant saving you money. Though, if you were caught kissing the ground your roommates would never let you live it down. They’d probably nickname you splinter lips or something embarrassing like that. Speaking of your roommates, they’d left you alone with nothing to do. How dare they have other lives that don’t involve you. 

You sink further into the couch, a bored sigh whoshing out of you. Mitsuri had gone out drinking with her cooking class, and Uzui was…somewhere, you honestly didn’t know. Kyojuro had a late shift at the convenience store, but he’d be home soon. Friday nights had been the very opposite of most of your friends, never planning extravagant outings. You much preferred the safety of a good book that you could sob about in the comfort of your own home. It was a simple yet fulfilling life. Besides, would a club let you do all the things to be done in one’s home? Short answer, no. 

A brilliant idea sparks forth. You were bored and no one was home. You could always… “Hey YN, sorry I thought I’d be home later.” A voice calls from the entryway. You groan and flop back on the couch. Well, there goes that idea, and it was a good one. “What’ve you been up to?” Kyojuro tosses his jacket over one of the kitchen island stools as he walks toward the fridge. He’s unbuttoning his work clothes, distractedly looking over the schedule for tomorrow as he does so. You don’t mean to gawk, but it’s not like you hadn’t seen a little too much of Kyojuro being as you lived with him. 

The man had a body like those paintings of Jesus, sculpted and rock-hard. If you were a man, Kyojuro would have given you many boners. Friendly harassment of course. “I was just about to invite all my other horny friends over to have an orgy.” You mutter out, glancing away from his near-open shirt before he catches you practically fantasizing about licking the sweat off him. This fucker was too good looking and you were a simple man…with simple desires. 

Kyojuro’s gaze flips to you and that damn easy grin he always wore appears. He slips out of his shirt, hanging it over his jacket. “Mmm, well don’t stop on my account.” He teases, pulling his long blonde hair out of its updo. A little warm trickle of something akin to sexual frustration strokes its smothering claws through your system. 

What you would do to just spread open your legs and have Kyojuro eat you out this instant is borderline insane, but you would let anyone fucking touch you. It’d been too long since you’d been able to let the carnal desire take over. Kyojuro was one of your good friends, you highly doubt you’d be able to enjoy his…tongue…fuck. You swallow hard as your gaze flits endlessly around the room. Were you so horny that you would fuck your friend? Mmm, yeah probably. You smile through the pain of not having someone to cuddle with. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

Kyojuro chuckles, stretching out his biceps and rolling his neck. “Oh. Seeing you get fucked senseless? For sure.” He shakes his head with a laugh but you nearly drop to your knees and beg him to let you take a picture of him shirtless for later. Christ, why does he have the body of a Greek God? His words send tendrils of hot want – need – through you. Making your pussy throb with hunger. 

Conversations with Kyojuro were always teetering on what if. You were so far in the bit that you didn’t know what was the truth anymore. He could tell you that he wanted to fuck you until easter and your response would be ‘Jesus isn’t gonna be the only thing that’s rising again’. Then you’d both laugh and continue with your day. Unless he was serious and you just agreed to be his fleshlight for 3 months…which doesn’t sound like such a bad idea… No! “I don’t know Kyo, you might be too tempted to join in.” You jab back, leaning forward on the couch, the loose tank dipping ever so slightly to tease a bit of your red bralette. You don’t miss the way his eyes dip to follow the swell of your tits. A satisfied smirk replaces your teasing grin. 

He spaces out for a beat before meeting your gaze. “Yeah…I,” His brows furrow, and adam’s apple bobs, before he turns around. “I have an early morning.” He quickly scoops up his clothes and salutes you as he walks toward the hallway of bedrooms. Your eyes narrow as you watch him. Nah, that was just what friends play around and say. You chuckle to yourself and head toward your room as well. No point in being awake if you can’t harass your friends. You pass by Mitsuri’s door, then you’re in front of home sweet home. Down just one door is Kyojuro’s room. Uzui shared a wall with the bathroom and closet, while you got two of the loudest people. Mitsuri with her music and Kyojuro… well sometimes you could hear him gaming, but there were moments when soft music was playing that you thought you could hear a little more. If you heard anyone fucking moan right now you were going to go mental. Full-blown chainsaw psycho killer, no one would be safe.  

Maybe you should’ve gone out with Uzui when he offered earlier this morning. He obviously could tell you were more pent up than a mother shopping for Christmas presents. Maybe a nice stranger would help this whole situation blow over. Then you wouldn’t be tempted to jump Kyojuro. Yeah, maybe you could message that one guy from your English class. 

You take out your phone and send him a quick text asking if he wants to hang out tomorrow. Hopefully, the vibes you were picking up on were correct and you could finally go back to being a normal human being with normal thoughts. Your phone buzzes and the words yeah, I’m free to do whatever appears on your screen. Whatever? Oh, this was going to work out perfectly. 

+    +    +

“I’m so happy you could make it.” Your words fall out with some excitement when Giyuu, the hot brooding guy from your English class walks through the front door. He observes all that he can before you take him by the hand to lead him to your room. “I figure we can game a little in here and…” You trail off, trying to sound suggestive and not too desperate. 

Giyuu raises his brows. “So you want to prolong us having sex?” He inquires, pulling you closer to him with the hand still holding his. Your brows shoot up. Damn, were you that transparent, or did he just assume that?

Either way, your plan was working out beautifully. “That depends,” You drag your finger down his chest. He was built, but nearly as much as Kyojuro. Was he home? You couldn’t remember. You hadn’t seen him all morning. “How good are you with your mouth?” Giyuu smirks and turns you around to where your back is pressed into the door. 

He licks up your jugular and plants small, sloppy kisses along your jawline. It was… something. “Does that answer your question?” He looks too pleased with himself so you don’t say anything. “You look so horny right now.” His hand is groping your breast and his other wraps around your waist. Did you? If there was a mirror across from you right now would you have lustful eyes? Glazed over from even just the thought of what was about to happen? No, you don’t think so. 

You really wanted to have some fun, but at what cost? Giyuu was hot, and kind, but just inexperienced. You could always teach him…but you weren’t ready to invest so much energy into a once-and-a-while fuck. You wanted to be fucked so hard that thinking would be impossible. 

You’re just about to say something to him when he’s back kissing you and moaning excessively. God, this guy needed some girl to teach him some things, but that girl was not you. “YN? I’m home, I brought hamburgers from that place you like so much!” Kyojuro calls from out in the kitchen. You squeak, but Giyuu either doesn’t hear Kyojuro (how?) or doesn’t care. Giyuu has managed to fumble your skirt up and play with the hem of your panties. Your pleas are muffled by his mouth still pressed against yours. His fingers slip inside your pussy and from the dull throb, you can tell there’s no moisture down there. Drier than unmoisturized lips in winter. He grunts and tries to move them around and a grumbled moan escapes your mouth as he – amazingly – swipes at your clit. “YN? Where are you?” Kyojuro asks and you can hear him walking down the hallway. 

This had to be the most dreadful event of your life. Being pressed into your bedroom door by a moaning telephone pole and one of your close friends about to hear the most ungodly whining. Giyuu releases your lips, finally, and sinks to his knees. He puts a finger to his lips and dips his head under your skirt. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You grab onto Giyuu and try to pull him up. “No! Giyuu, absolutely not! My roommate is right there.” You hiss, shoving him to the side. You move away from him as quickly as you can. “I’m sorry but we cannot do this right now.” You grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

Giyuu looks dumbfounded sitting on the ground where you had pushed him down. He blinks a couple of times before narrowing his eyes. “But you wanted me to fuck you.” It’s like he’s trying to put a God damn puzzle together. 

You groan and point to your door. “Yeah, when my fucking roommate wasn’t about to hear you moaning like a green pornstar!”  You fume, probably looking more exacerbated than you would’ve if you let him go through with it. Giyuu frowns. 

“Fine, then I’m leaving.” He states, gathering himself into a standing position. You nod in agreement, gesturing to the door. 

“Good, I’ll see you in class.” You sigh, flopping down on your bed. Giyuu gives you the oddest look but doesn’t say anything as he stomps out of your room. You hear Kyojuro mutter something to him and then the front door slam. A few seconds later Kyojuro is leaning against the frame of your door with his arms crossed over his chest. 

The silence is thick and for a moment you think he must want to confront you about Giyuu. There wasn’t necessarily a reason for him to confront you…so why did you feel so guilty? Shame was pumping through your stomach. “Want to watch a movie?” Kyojuro offers. You glance up to meet his blank stare. 

His gaze falls to assess the state of your clothing. Your skirt was still askew, your hair a mess, and your lips were swollen. He swallows slowly, trying to push down the thought of some guy having his hands on you. Kyojuro wasn’t jealous, no, he was simply… protective. Yes, that’s it. He was worried about you. Though… he couldn’t quite stop thinking about the small moan you let out. How someone like Giyuu managed to make a woman like you moan…he can’t fathom. Kyojuro would be able to have you only able to moan and shake in pleasure. He was so much better than that guy. “Sure. Just let me change into something more comfortable?” With a nod, Kyojuro slips back into the hall. A shakey breath leaves your body and you squeeze your eyes shut. You’d let your desire lead you too far. A distraction with someone you were comfortable with was sure to fix this heavy feeling. 

It doesn’t take long for you to pull on a pair of sweats and a soft tank top. You grab hold of your current book, heading toward the living room. Kyojuro blinks up to stare at you as you curl your legs under yourself on the couch. “You brought a book?” He gestures to the book with his head. 

A small smile lifts your lips. “Yeah, I thought I could catch up on some chapters after the movie.” You reply softly. Kyojuro chuckles and flips through some of his recommended movies. 

“If you’d rather read I don’t mind.” He mumbles while reading over a description. You shake your head. If anything you wanted to spend as much time with Kyojuro as you could. He had that warm presence that made you feel like less of a shit person. 

You set the book on the side table and turn back with a bigger smile for Kyojuro. “No, I really need a distraction right now and you’re doing a perfect job.” Kyojuro’s gaze flicks to you, his mouth twitching. 

“Distraction aye? Anything for the lady.” He smirks. 

The movie Kyojuro ends up choosing was at first glance, very cheerful and cute, but as the universe seemed to enjoy putting you in awkward situations – practically a porn scene started to play. Your eyes darted to see what his reaction would be, but it seemed he had none. His eyes were fixed on the screen, almost with rapt attention. 

What you didn’t see is that Kyojuro was white-knuckling the arm of the couch. He wouldn’t dare look at you for he feared the worst would happen. You already had a fucking weirdo try to pleasure you, what right would he have to make a move? Wait, did he want to make a move? What even was this? His initial goal was to get your mind off of your awful decision-making, but ever since you stepped out here with a book in your hand and baggy sweats on, he was done for. He wasn’t even sure how the movie got to this point, he was too preoccupied with observing you out of the corner of his eye. At times he wondered how you could be so breathtaking without even trying. He was so fucked. 

Thankfully, the scene ended and so did the movie. You almost instantly go for your book to avoid saying anything about how ‘enjoyable’ the movie was, but you don’t have time to grab it because Kyojuro leans over you, a soft smile dusting his features. Whenever the corners of his mouth quirk up in a casual smile it makes your stomach squirm with an uncomfortable feeling. “What are you thinking about?” He quizzes, reaching for something on the table next to you. You didn’t know what, you’d already forgotten what your name was. The warmth from his body seeps into your skin, his hot breath cascading down your arm as he speaks. You clear your throat and try to look at anything but the man next to you. 

It had been 4 nice years of friendship. It burst forth from an unfortunate crush on a mutual friend. Turns out that friend was too stupid to realize he was manipulating you and leading you on. Crazy how that works isn’t it? “How I’m going to have to fire the assassins that keep failing every morning.” You grumble out, pretending to be fascinated with the upholstery of the couch. Kyojuro hums in amusement, opening the book – which was apparently what he grabbed.

He sets the book in his lap, reading over the page you bookmarked. “They just need more training, I’ve gotten skilled at fighting them off.” He shoots you a deadly smirk and suddenly it becomes a lot harder to swallow. Your gaze lazily follows the curve of his bicep, noticing how thick they seem. Were they hard to the touch? You’d heard muscles were sometimes flabby though. It was difficult to suppress the urge to just reach out and feel his arm. “My God YN, you actually read this stuff?” Kyorjuro blurts, holding the page closer to his face as if that would help him believe he was reading it correctly. 

He pinches the spine of the book to close it with a shocked expression. You can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes from your lips. Then – with horror – you realize he hadn’t bookmarked the page. “Kyojuro! The bookmark!” You practically jump over his lap to reach the flimsy piece of notebook paper you called a bookmark that was on the other side of his leg. You huff out a sigh when you finally have it in your hands, yanking the book from his hands to frantically find the scene you were reading. When the words start to look familiar you stick the paper in between the pages and set the book down. 

Leave it to the least observant person to almost make you lose your place. You’re about to move back to your spot when Kyojuro shifts underneath you. You turn to slowly look at his face, but you’re met with the side of his face. You note the tip of his ear is flushed red and his eyes are darting to look at anything but you – splayed out over his lap no less. “This is surprisingly comfortable.” You tease, rolling your hips forward a bit with a smirk. Something similar to a whimper comes from Kyojuro. 

“YN…” His voice strains with unrelenting thoughts coursing through his mind. How your ass looked right there over his lap. How heavenly your body felt on him, he especially liked the way your soft stomach felt like a cushion upon his thighs. It was crazy, you were driving him crazy. Finally, you sat up, but that was almost worse because now your face was closer to his. He could see your rosy cheeks, lustful eyes, and God – your fucking tight red tank top. He wanted it on the floor this instant, it would look better there anyway. He was fighting the urge to reach up and swipe away the hair that had come undone from the loose way you had it up. 

“Sorry.” You chuckle bashfully, fixing your necklace. He didn’t miss the way the pendant fell between your breasts. He wanted to follow the delicate gold chain until you were moaning his name.

“It’s no problem.” He mutters absentmindedly. He both wished he could melt into the couch and bend you over it to fuck you mindlessly. 

The way his mouth moves has always had this effect on you, but you were just friends. He felt so good under you, too good. “I’m gonna,” You glance down at the book in your hands. “Um, go finish this.” Then without another word, you scurry off to your room. You press your back into the very same door Giyuu had earlier. Only this time your heart was racing and your breath was erratic. What was happening? Did you…like Kyojuro? You always thought your conversations with him were on the verge of playful and downright sexual. You had similar jokes with Uzui and Mitsuri, but somehow this felt…different. Oh God, you did like him. You wanted to do unholy things to that man and then spoil him rotten with little gifts and quality time. 

Shit. Fuck! This was awful! Now you needed a distraction from the distraction. You spot your nightstand drawer and glance at the door behind you. Kyojuro was still in the living room, so he wouldn’t be able to hear you… distract yourself. 

You take a couple of steps forward and then rush to your bed, tossing the book haphazardly on your desk. You position yourself in the corner with a few pillows nestled around you. You bite your lip as you reach over and rummage around in your drawer until your fingers graze the glorious purple silicon you were looking for. You shimmy out of your sweats and panties, tossing them to the floor. You hiss in annoyance when you realize just how very wet you already are. “Mmm, fuck.” You moan as the round toy slips into your folds. It felt heavenly, but something was missing. “Haaa, oh my God, nngh.” You gasp out, the coils in your core tightening as the image of Kyojuro between your legs appears behind your lids. 

Kyojuro quietly listened on the other side of his wall, his mouth slightly ajar. He swallowed a lodge that had formed in his throat. He should put headphones on, or do something to stop listening to you, but he couldn’t. Your next moan cracks into a whimper and it takes all his might to not barge in there and throw whatever you were using to the side. He was so desperate to show you what real pleasure could be like. He imagines your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he rams his cock into your tight cunt. It would suck him in like it never wanted him to leave. You’d be fucked out by the time he was on his first round, then he’d cum inside of you. Fill you up and watch his cum trickle out of you. He’d make you his whore and have you begging for his cock every waking moment. 

He grunts, glancing down at his growing erection. You had driven him mad and you’d pay for it, of that he would make sure. Your moans grow erratic and he swears he can hear the wet slick of your pussy through the paper-thin walls. 

The pumping becomes sloppy as you writhe in pleasure. “Mmmh!” You bite down, trying to stifle the whining moans slipping out of your throat. “Feels s’good.” Your words come out slurred and after a bit of teasing the rope inside of you snaps and your eyes roll shut. Shit, what a mess you made. You groan into your pillow, annoyed that you had to clean up. 

Kyojuro rolls his lips into his mouth as he peers down. His hand is covered in sticky cum and his cock is still stiff with desire. Yes…what a mess you’d made indeed. 

+    +    +

You had the best night’s sleep in forever, waking up only when the sun was up. The shorts you’d thrown on last night had ridden up into your ass so you get out of bed to pull them down. There was also the sweet smell of pancakes that led you out into the kitchen where Kyojuro stands flipping some. You weren’t sure why, but he looked incredible doing so. He smiles when he notices you. “Morning YN,” His gaze lingers on the way the strap of your tank falls down your shoulder. You’re about to make a flirty remark when you spot your other two roommates observing you both from the breakfast nook. They both wear knowing smirks and whisper to each other. You roll your eyes and walk toward them. 

“Hey strangers, when did you guys get home?” You inquire, sitting down across from Mitsuri. She grins, playing with one of her braids. Uzui chuckles while leaning back in his chair. 

“Kanroji met this one guy and-” He’s shut up by Mitsuri throwing a pillow at him with flushed cheeks. 

“Shut up shut up shut up!” She squeals. “He,” She pouts and bashfully meets your gaze, her lime green eyes sparkling. “He was so cool.” She sighs dreamily, smitten already. 

Uzui gives her a blank stare and then his gaze flicks to you. Kyojuro sets down a plate in front of you, then the stack of pancakes near the middle of the table. Uzui follows Kyojuro’s movements with narrowed eyes. “And what have you two been up to?” He quirks a brow as Kyo sits himself down next to you. You both look up, meet each other’s gaze, then look away. 

You stuff your mouth with a bite of fluffy pancake. “Nothing much.” Kyojuro decides to respond. As the taste fills your tastebuds you can’t help the little moan that escapes your mouth. Kyojuro’s movements halt, his attention trained on you. The others didn’t hear, did they? With one glance to Mitsuri and Uzui he could tell they were in their own world. “YN?” Kyo leans over to whisper in your ear. You gulp down your next bite, your eyes shutting for a moment. “I need you to stop moaning over my cooking.” He hisses into your ear. 

Your heart dips in your chest. Was your enjoyment of his food having that much of an impact on him? You could have a little fun with this. You take another bite, humming in pleasure. Kyojuro’s eyes darken into deep amber swirls. “You having fun shoving that into your mouth?” He asks in a husky voice. You clench on nothing. The things his words alone were doing to you. He watches as your tongue darts out to lick up some of the syrup on your lips. “You’re being a brat.” He states.

You raise your brows and giggle quietly. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Kyojuro nods in understanding. Without mention his hand grabs onto your thigh. His fingers play with the plush skin, molding it to his massive hand. “What are you doing?” Your voice is strained but Kyo just smirks, trailing his fingers higher up your thigh – grazing the point where your stomach overlapped. Dangerously close to the apex of your thighs and you knew at that moment, he was punishing you for pushing him so far. Even if this wasn’t real, just a friendly game, you were enjoying every second of it. 

“Guys!” Mitsuri suddenly exclaims. You expect Kyojuro to move his hand away quickly but his pinky delicately strokes your covered pussy. You swallow nervously. “We should totally have a game night.” She clasps her hands together and bounces excitedly. “We haven’t done one in such a long time,” She continues. 

Uzui sets his fork down and stands up with vigor. “What a great idea! We shall conquer the night with…Mario Party.” His magenta eyes narrow and he places a hand on his heart dramatically. “I shall be the victor again.” He states triumphantly. Mitsuri watches him in amazement, probably thinking, 'Wow, I wish I could declare myself like that! Uzui is so cool!’. She was so easy to read. 

Kyojuro on the other hand, was literally focused on his other hand. He was kneading the flesh of your thigh and it felt weirdly amazing. “Careful Uzui, Mitsuri has been practicing ever since last time.” He chuckles. Tonight was going to be… you bite on your lip as Kyo presses his thumb to your pussy… fun.

The day passed with you spending most of it hiding away in your room, finishing the book you said you would last night. Mitsuri and Uzui went out shopping for snacks and drinks while Kyojuro had some errands to run. You had to reread the same page over and over again, your head spinning with thoughts of this morning. Was this really happening? Kyojuro and you? Did he like you? Did you like him? 

You groan and shut your book. They should be home soon, it was getting late and you were lonely. “Sweetie we’re home!” Uzui yells as you hear the front door swing open. You roll your eyes at the timing. Walking out to the kitchen you find Mitsuri and Uzui excitedly emptying their shopping bags. Jack Daniels, Titos, Tequila Rose, and Mike’s Hard Lemonade. There are some stray soda bottles and a random bag of pretzels. 

You slowly meet their pleased expressions. “What are we going to eat?” You inquire, your brows furrowing. Mitsuri waves your concern away with a giggle. 

“Don’t worry, we called Kyojuro to handle the food.” She exclaims. You hum in approval, noticing that Uzui has already made his way over to the Nintendo, preparing Mario Party for tonight. Mitsuri pours three glasses and sets them down on the coffee table before flopping down in the recliner. 

You watch as Uzui and Mitsuri drink and play a few rounds. Then Mitsuri insists they should go to the convenience store and you wait for Kyojuro to show up with the food. Not even a few minutes after they leave the one you were waiting for walks through the door. He sees you alone and tilts his head. “Left alone again?” He questions, setting down a few bags on the counter. 

You shake your head. “Nope, I have you now.” You reply, a hint of playfulness in your voice. His lips form into a slow smirk as he starts walking over to where you’re sitting on the couch. He squats down, letting his eyes lazily look over the comfortable clothes you have on. 

“Mmm, indeed you do.” He mumbles. Your heart is thrumming uncontrollably in your chest. You’re almost afraid he might be able to hear it. 

“You uh,” His eyes instantly meet yours when he hears your voice. It makes it harder to talk when he’s looking at you so intensely. You break eye contact, gaze falling to your lap. 

“No, YN, if you’re going to do this, you’re going to look into my eyes.” Kyojuro’s hand is under your chin, commanding you to see him. 

“Do you like me?” You blurt. That’s not exactly what you intended to say but the words came out anyway. Kyojuro chuckles, his usually bright eyes darkening as he peered at you. 

He wets his lips, sliding the hand that was under your chin up your cheek. Your breath hitches and that only drives him forward more. Before you know it his mouth is hot next to your ear. “Why do you want to know?” He asks in a hushed tone. You feel hot, so very hot. “Mmm, don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything, I already know. Your body is practically begging for it.” He uses his hand on your face to expose your neck, every movement antagonizing slow. The tip of his nose drags down your jugular and he stops just above your collarbone. His lips move along the sensitive skin, sucking and taking in the splendor of being this close to you. “To answer your question,” He starts, biting down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. A breath moan escapes your throat. He hums in satisfaction, moving back to your neck with kisses and tantalizing licks. “No, I don’t like you.” Then, he’s next to your ear, breathing heavier than before. “I crave you. Desire you. I cannot think when our eyes meet. You make me dangerous YN. Every second I am not with you I’m a depraved man. Hungry. Starving.” Kyojuro’s face is in front of yours, his eyes burning into yours. 

This time you don’t look away. 

You grab his cheeks closing the distance between your lips. The kiss is gentle at first, surprise and exploration guiding both of you before Kyojuro positions himself in between your legs, pushing you into the back of the couch. His breath is labored as he moves his mouth along your skin, planting kisses everywhere he can reach. He’s desperate, groaning into your neck. “Bedroom. Now. Or I’m going to eat you out on this couch until our roommates get home.” He growls and without a second thought your legs are wrapped around Kyojuro’s waist. You’re not sure how he’s watching where he’s going and making out with you. All you know is that soon your back is pressed into the back of his door. This time it’s hot and you intend to use the door for stability because this man is surely going to make your knees weak. 

Kyojuro’s fingers are digging deliciously into the back of your thighs and his tongue is licking the spot he bit you earlier. It was all a bit overwhelming, the sensations, the emotions rolling around in your stomach, and the downright arousal dripping from your cunt. “God you’re so perfect.” He grunts into your shoulder, running his teeth along the curve and shape of it. 

Your hands are buried in his hair, pulling him back up to your lips with needy fervor. You can scarcely breathe, but when you catch your breath for a moment it’s his name you moan out. “Kyo,” Between kisses, bites, tastes of bliss, and the teasing roll of his hips into the apex of your thighs you would whisper his name. He was all that mattered. The anchor to Earth and the center of your very being. His response would always be a soft, ‘I’m here,’ ‘good girl,’ or ‘fuck,’. 

“Are you sure?” He gently connects your foreheads. A pleased smile morphs your swollen lips. “I don’t want you to regret this…us.” He adds. 

You peck his lips, then decide to kiss him for a beat longer. “Kyojuro, I think we’ve established over the last few days that we are not just friends. I want you, all of you.” You reply gently. It’s like something in him snaps even more because the next thing you know you both are on his mattress. 

“You drive me fucking crazy.” He hisses, shifting himself between your legs. His warm fingers hook onto the hem of your shorts, pulling them down and tossing them to the side with abandonment. He stares down at your red panties, getting lost in the way they formed your pussy perfectly and your body. “Take your shirt off.” He suddenly demands. 

You choke out a laugh at the outburst. “You take your shirt off.” You playfully snap. He cocks his head to the side and pulls the black tee he had on over his head with one swift motion. You gulp down your words and grab the hem of your own shirt with both hands, yanking it off with a lot less grace. You hadn’t been wearing a bra because of being home all day so when your tits meet the cold air Kyojuro smirks. 

“Hmm, you listen so well when you’re put in your place.” He coos, rolling his lips around in his mouth. “Now, for your reward, I’m going to eat this perfect cunt. Feel free to let me listen to those pretty little moans of yours, or,” He grins, laying down on his stomach. “Wrap these fucking thighs so tight around my head that I can’t hear anything. Okay, princess?” The air is heady as you watch him pull your underwear off. He halts for a beat, but presses your legs open for him and slides one of his hands down to open up your folds. You hiss out a breath as he grazes his teeth along your thigh. 

His fingers slide into your entrances without any trouble. “So wet for me already baby, you want this so bad.” Kyojuro chuckles from his position. A breathy moan leaves your throat. 

He pumps two fingers inside of you, playing with your walls. “F-fuck, right there, nnngh.” He hooks his fingers then his mouth is sucking on your clit. You almost scream, the pleasure shooting thick bands through your body. Your muscles tighten and so do your legs around his head. He hums in pleasure, the vibration sending shockwaves through you. “S-so good, oh my God, so good.” You can’t think. Words are just spilling out at this point. 

Your legs start to shake as his tongue plunges deeper into your pussy, swirling around your sensitive clit. “Ah angh,” Your walls clench and pulsate around his fingers. “I’m fuck, I’m close,” Kyojuro pushes on your leg so he can move his tongue away and you almost whimper at the absence of it. 

He starts to quicken his fingering, watching with a pleased expression as you writhe and clench. “That’s it baby, cum on my fingers.” He coaxes and with one more hard hook of his fingers you fall apart, convulsing with whimpers and whines. As you cum Kyojuro moves his mouth back to your pussy, lapping up your arousal. “You’re so sweet, fuck.” He hisses. 

Your heart is racing, breath coming out in pants, you can barely feel your legs. “Kyojuro,” You huff.

He shits onto his knees with a lopsided grin. “Yes?” 

“I need you inside of me,” Kyojuro blinks at you, then with a knowing smile works himself out of his pants. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you.” He grunts, but you zero in on the very size of him. For a guy you’d known for 4 years, you would figure you’d be able to guesstimate how large his cock would be. Nope, he was so much larger than you expected. He lines himself up at your entrance and with a slow push, he’s stretching you out. You groan and latch onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his muscles. He shuts his eyes, a grunt rumbling from his chest. “Shit, you’re sucking me in. Look at you taking me so well.” He husks, rolling his hips into yours. It felt so good, the way you tightened around him whenever he moved like you didn’t want him to pull out. 

Kyojuro starts to thrust, gentle at first but with time he picks up pace, ramming into you like he knew you liked. “You like that huh? Do you like me fucking you speechless? Ain’t got such a smart mouth on you now aye?” He spats, you can only whine in response. “Mmm, such a good girl for me. So perfect for my cock, fuck.” His movements become sloppy as he fucks into you. You gasp and tighten around him, another wave of pleasure crashing into you. That’s all it takes for Kyojuro to break, a cracking string of moans falling from his mouth as he cums inside of you. He collapses next to you, chest heaving. 

“Do you think Mitsuri and Uzui came home during that?” You ask, voice hoarse from the previous activities. Kyojuro rolls his eyes and turns on his side to look at you. 

You turn on your side too, feeling sweaty and sticky, but not caring much. You could feel his cum inside of you and honestly, it was a nice full feeling. You might’ve been a little too into the fact he came inside of you. Kyojuro wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead. “I’m not sure, but I can go get you a towel if you want?” He replies, peering at you with a concerned expression. “I kind of made…a mess down there.” He mutters. 

You giggle and shake your head. “Don’t friends clean up each other’s messes?” You joke. Kyojuro scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

He smacks your ass and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, but I kind of think we’re past the whole just friends thing.” 

As you look into his eyes and feel the swell of happiness in your chest you realize he couldn’t be more right. You were never Just Friends.