#mr lee please collect yourself

[worldsover]

Professor Knows ft. Arin

(5.5k words)

You’re seated at the front of the lecture hall, and you’re not sure if you’re in class, or a movie theater with an actress playing a prank for some hidden camera, and here comes the host ready to pop out at any time; hold in your jaw, please. But no, that’s Professor Arin, and everyone here thinks it’s normal that her white pinstripe dress shirt and her gray skirt are both short enough to reveal so much skin that you’re already picturing her naked so that if you were to be saying a speech in front of a thousand people, that’s 1/1000th down to make the task easier.

That’s Professor Arin, teaching passionately, and you don’t give a damn about what you’re learning because this isn’t your campus, and you just wanted to get to graduation already—well, those are the excuses. You don’t give a damn because you’re drooling at the so-called professor dressed more like a slutty schoolgirl/pornstar emulation of one, or at least you have to hold back from drooling. 

You are mesmerized by her perfect hourglass figure, and her heels—goodness, those heels. In her knife-thin heels, she’s rocking an entire lecture hall like she’s that one summer fling that got away, stabbing at hearts and bleeding them dry. How do your classmates do it? How can they concentrate with those hips swaying, and a pencil skirt so tight you can read a book on her ass? How can you focus when she bends over to pick up a dropped pen, and you’re one millimeter away from seeing the absolute territory? You’d call it collective self-control of an entirely different level.

It could be how friendly and bubbly she is. Overtly touchy with all her students, she treats everyone like longtime personal friends, casually grabbing arms and shoulders, patting backs and heads, and no one minds because why would they. The only one minding is you since she doesn't treat you the same way. You would often shift in your seat as the fabric of your pants becomes taut against your honesty whenever she catches your gaze.

And whenever she catches your gaze, for a beat, your heart stops. But then she smiles impassively and continues her lesson without any chalance. You exhale, relieved she didn’t read your mind.

That’s how it goes on for the entire semester: hell on earth, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Or so you believed. Arin, as it turns out, is omniscient or psychic or maybe just some hair-level more observant than an average student like you—she's the one at the front of the class after all. She knows everything she's doing to you. She must. You hope. Pray. Beg.

Arin calls you into her office one day. This is it. The rumors. She’s a total nympho, a freak, down for anyone half good-looking, and you’d say you’re not so bad yourself.

She's sitting down in her leather chair, her crossed legs revealing just a hint of lace-adorned thighs; you lose your cockiness the moment you're inside the room. You're captivated by the soft, warm lighting that illuminates Arin's flawless features. Her lips are a shade of red that begs to be tasted, and you wonder what those luscious curves must feel like against your own. You swallow a dry lump in your throat, mentally willing your erection to subside.

"Sit down," she purrs, her voice as sensual as silk against your overheated skin. Her eyes never leaving yours, she uncrosses her legs and recrosses them in a way that makes her skirt ride even higher. That's more of her thighs. Less of your sanity.

Your fingers clench into fists at your sides and then you take a seat in the chair across from her, acutely aware of the space between you.

"So, Mr. Lee," she begins, raking her eyes over you, "I've called you here today because I've noticed something... interesting about you." Her voice trails off, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table separating you. You swallow hard, fearing and praying for what she might say next.

"Interesting?" you manage to croak out, cursing yourself for sounding like a lovesick puppy. Arin has reduced you to a puddle of hormones with a single look.

"I’ve noticed your… attention in class," she says, removing her glasses, and you're done for. "I want to make sure all my students are participating, fully engaged."

"I am, Professor," you whine.

"Just call me Arin," she says.

You blush. "Arin, of course."

Space becomes even more of an attention hog; the room feels like it shrunk a thousand times its size now, every one of your heartbeats echoing off the four walls, the bookshelves as your eyes follow her fingers, which now travel up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. Your breath catches in your throat as she uncrosses her legs, revealing just so the white fabric of her panties. Arousal hits you like a ton of bricks, your cock throbbing in your pants. You swallow hard, trying to moisten your mouth as she gets up from her chair and sits on her desk instead.

Then, she touches you for the first time, like she's your classroom crush, finally noticing your feelings, and you can believe that easily, the woman at most a few years your senior. It's a simple touch, a brush of her index along the back of your hand and wrist, yet it's enough to spike the little hairs onto ends like you're touching a Van de Graaff generator. The moment she lets go: there's the blue-white snappy little spark. At this heightened state of awareness, your eyes are flies or bumblebees or hummingbirds, your heart the latter's. You can't make sense of anything else but her.

"I think we both know why I called you in here, don’t we?" she asks, her voice husky.

Now, it's your turn to speak up. Choose your next move wisely.

You say, slowly, "I need to… learn. My lesson."

Arin nods, hops off the edge of the desk. Her smile turns from sultry to goofy. (How’d she do that?) "Exactly!" She pushes a couple of papers in front of you. "Practice these cast studies, I’ll have you read them for the class next lecture."

You were about to get hit by a truck, didn’t get hit by a truck, and felt disappointed that you didn’t get hit by a truck. You take the papers, nod, and leave with your head down. She waves bye when you look back.

Fast forward to the next lecture. You’re a hot mess. You didn’t sleep, rehearsed those damn lines a hundred times as if you were some damn actor. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can’t for the life of you stop staring at her high heels and gym-toned midriff, showcasing themselves like they were on display.

Your turn comes around, and Arin nods at you to read aloud. You take a deep breath, step forward, and start reading. Your voice is shaky at first but soon, you find your rhythm. Her encouraging looks don’t help, her leg bouncing up and down playfully. Occasionally she’d take her glasses off, chew on the end of them...

Your mind starts to wander into dirty places you'd rather not mention here, but suffice to say, your pants are a little too tight now. It has you stumbling over words when you thought you had it. You force yourself to focus on the text in front of you, but it’s near impossible when she leans in and whispers in your ear.

"Mmm. Getting warmer," she says.

Your voice cracks a little as you try to regain control of your senses but it was no use; you were all hers now. Arin has successfully reduced you to putty in her hands with just one sexy whisper-purr hybrid thing she did so well.

You finish the rest of the reading, and when you look up, you see her staring at you, eyes hooded. It means nothing; you’ve learned this quickly. There’s no truck to be hit by, just the ghost of a promise of one.

You’re in the club later that night, and your balls are ocean/sky/blue-raspberry blue. You down your fourth shot of vodka, determined to forget about it all. There are a lot of girls here. Your friends are going for it. Good for them. They’re all from your old campus, so they would have never met Arin. That adds up.

"You okay, man?" Dongwoo asks, patting you on the back.

You down another shot. "Fine, just fine," you slur.

"She was something, wasn’t she?" he asks, grinning like an idiot. You can only assume he was talking about some girl you must’ve hit on.

"Arin?"

The world tilts on its axis as Dongwoo whips his head around so fast you fear for his neck health. "How do..."

"Long story." You wave him off and order another round, beer this time. "Tell me more."

Dongwoo leans in and starts spilling, but all you can think about is the way Arin looked at you today in class. And how her voice curled itself around your cock like a python around a deer and squeezed just as tightly.

You think about it so much that when you get back to your dorm on campus, stumbling around, world spinning, you make your way to that very lecture hall.

And then you sober up, real fast.

Moans fill the large room. Thick, throaty, oh-god-yes moans.

"Fuck," you gasp, covering your mouth as you peek through a small crack in the door. "She’s..."

Arin, your perfect goddess of a professor, is on the floor, skirt hiked up, glasses askew, as her fingers work in and out like engine pistons.

Your heart pounds as you watch Arin pleasure herself on the lecture hall floor, her soft moans filling the room. She arches her back, her free hand groping her breasts through her silk blouse as her fingers delve deeper. You can't tear your eyes away from the erotic display, mesmerized by the way her body writhes with each thrust of her fingers.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips, and Arin's eyes suddenly lock onto yours through the cracked door. At first, she tenses up, but then, her face softens, and she’s smiling. Then she’s frowning and shaking her head. You know this, understand this, are running through the whole gamut of emotions yourself. You’ve heard the rumors are true, to an extent. She has indeed slept with every professor, male and female, that she’s deemed decent enough. Never crossed a line with a student.

You're frozen in place, unable to move as Arin saunters over to the door, her fingers still wet with her juices. She smells like sex and orchids, two of your favorite things now that you think about it. She closes the door behind you, then laughs at you.

"You smell like booze," she says. She’s wearing that same outfit, the skirt so short you’re ready to go all-in on temperance, whip the ruler out, have her punished for wearing something so scandalous if whatever lord above smite her now, you don’t blame His lightning. Her thighs are a juicy steak—the juice is a trail of something clear.

You look down. "Y-you… you smell like…"

Arin doesn’t know what to do with her hands like how you don’t know what to do with your hands. She also lowers her head. "Fuck. I really, really shouldn’t do this."

Two breaths, heaving, yours and hers.

"You’re right. I’m sorry, Prof—"

She presses her index finger against your lips, and you get a close whiff of her taste. "Why are you apologizing? It’s my fault. And… Arin."

"Can I call you Noona?"

Arin giggles. "Sure."

"Noona," you mumble, your heart in your throat, "I shouldn’t have—"

"Then why are you still standing there? If you’re going to apologize, at least do it right."

"A-apologize?"

Arin rolls her eyes and pulls you toward the seating. When she sits down, your spot, front of the class, she brings you to the floor, where you can see her skirt hiked up even higher. "I was so close, but fine. Apologize for interrupting me by…" She inclines her head toward her wet panties. "You know what to do, right?"

You never thought you’d be kneeling where you pay halfhearted attention to useless studies, but sure, this is church now. Pray. Pray at the altar of the space between Arin’s thighs which heaven envies for lack of same glory, or the idyll garden where the cuff of her socks squeezes the ample flesh. You hesitate, taking in her scent. It’s so much stronger here. So much more Arin.

"Hurry up. Don’t make me regret this." Her fingers in your hair—oh, you won't make her regret this, no, no. You press your lips to her thighs, kissing your way up her inner thighs with a fervor that would make the most devout jealous as you lick-suck-peck at the bare skin and taste the sweat on your tongue, delicious and tangy and a hint of that musky flavor. Oh, she’s been dripping for a while.

Your cock reacts, throbbing in your pants like you haven't had a single drink tonight, as you finally reach the holy of holies.

Arin’s thigh-high clad legs are wrapped around your head, depriving you of basic breath, but you don't care. This is the rapture, and you’d die for her right now and be satisfied. You slide your tongue between her folds, lapping at the nectar she so generously shares as her moans spur you onward. You can hear her panting above you, feel her rocking into your mouth in time with your ministrations. She tastes better than any woman you've ever been with, salty like the sea and as sweet as honey.

"Fuck," she gasps, and you faithfully redouble your efforts. Her grip tightens on your hair as she grinds against your face, and it’s a miracle you don’t pass out from oxygen deprivation or an erection that won't quit. "Yess," Arin hisses, her heels digging into the ground.

"Fuck!" Her juices flood your mouth in a tidal wave of orgasmic release as you swallow every drop like a good little student. She squeezes your face tightly between her thighs, forcing every last drop out of her before finally letting go with a shudder.

"Fuck…" she breathes out, combing her fingers through your hair. "That was unexpected."

Arin blushes, and you smile into her crotch. Reluctantly, you pull away, then return to your seat as Arin adjusts her skirt and glasses, straightening her hair. As you lean back on your heels, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, proud and embarrassed by your performance."Did I do good, Noona?"

Arin laughs out a low and throaty sound. "Oh, you did more than good. But I think it's my turn to apologize now."

"Why?" you ask.

She smiles slyly, reaching down to grab your hand and pull you to your feet. "Because I've been teasing you all night." Arin leans in, her warm breath dancing over your ear. "And I’m not one to leave a task half-finished."

Led by the hand, you follow her into her office, leaving the empty classroom behind. The door closes with a resounding click, sealing you both inside. So this is where the real lesson begins.

The office is a complete one-eighty from the cold, sterile environment of her classroom. You didn’t realize it before, too focused on her to see anything else. Warm, rich colors greet your eyes, and the scent of vanilla and sandalwood fills the air. Arin's desk is a sea of ​​piled-up papers and knick-knacks, but she clears a space for you as she pushes them aside.

"Sit," she commands, motioning to the plush leather chair in front of her desk at as she locks the door behind you with an audible click. The sound of the lock engaging sobers you up at once.

Arin, your professor, just had her way with your mouth and now you're about to... what? Your mind reels with possibilities as she saunters around the room, slackening her black tie and unbuttoning her blouse one button at a time. Each button revealed another inch of porcelain skin, bared for your hungry eyes only. Her dress shirt hangs loosely on her now, just like her tie, and now you can see how her lace panties match her bra. You wonder if this was all planned or a serendipitous coincidence. Arin shimmies out of her panties, then turns around, which lifts her skirt just enough to show off her ass. Arin’s ass is a sort of cryptozoological being that earns hushed whispers at the end of lectures—did you catch the crease of her cheeks when jumped to pull down the blackboard, or did you see how it jiggled when she jumped to pull the blackboard down? But here, in the bare flesh, with its goosebumps and every trajectory, a hushed whisper is too quiet for Loch Ness or Bigfoot’s more famed sight. Her ass makes your mouth water. It makes the desert water. The sun waters. If there were a shape to describe it… yet circle, then perfect, then slappable each inch ever closer to an apt description as apt as the appleness of oranges—now there’s another inch closer: Arin’s ass is juicy. Yet, you can’t even render anything above mute: porcelain skin glowing in the dim light and that pussy... that enticing wetness between her legs, glistening with arousal.

"You must be hard," she says, academic, as though stating fact off a lecture slide or textbook.

You might not graduate with any particular honors on your diploma. Where is honor or prestige and how could it be written down: you have your professor on her knees under her desk, grasping tight on your cock; this can't go in the transcript. (Magna cum loudly—that’s how. If it were not written, lest the porn titlers monopolize this for themselves.)

"You don't know the half of it," you say, and she smirks because she knows more than you, with the proof in her fingers, uncoiling you free.

Digits that hold red pens and chalk and sheaves of paper are now working their magic on your straining erection, already at full mast, but here the flag might fly further such that flagging no longer can belong to that cloth the flaps in the wind because it would not be so accurate a description. Arin watches you squirm, her eyes glinting with mischief and something else you can't quite place. Pride, maybe? As if she's always known this day would come and has been waiting for it.

You're so hard her grip doesn't even feel particularly tight, but when she looks up at you through those glasses, that impassive facade in tatters? That is the tightest leash your heart has ever worn. Her lips are a soft pink, colors you might see on her dress on occasion, and she parts them—the colors you see are a hot white flash, how did she get you down so quickly, and good lord if he were good you’d need his help to last. There is no way she’s this skilled at this unless she’s been practicing like it’s a side job. Her head bobs up and down, each movement accompanied by a moan that vibrates along your cock. She looks up at you through her glasses, more spit on them now, impassive as a hurricane. You make eye contact; it’s all you can do to avoid cumming right then and there, however paradoxical since her glare is saying all you need to hear. Don’t cum. Don’t cum or I fail you. Don’t cum or you’re punished—well, that doesn’t sound so bad.

Releasing and letting out a sharp gasp, Arin lets your erection flop into your stomach, spit-messy and begging. "Good boy. You pass."

As all she speaks, this too is a truth: you pass—into the next life—no time to process how she rips open a packet of latex with her teeth, places it into your length with her mouth, pushes you down onto the desk, one knee on either side of your thighs as she hovers over you.

"I’ve wanted this," she says, grinding against your tip, "since the first day you walked into my class."

"Oh, really, professor?" you manage to croak out, and damn it all if she doesn’t laugh, sexy and low in her throat.

"Don’t call me that right now." Arin sounds so stern saying that, stern like you've never heard her before. Then, in a smooth motion, she sinks herself down, takes all of you in one go, and moans out "fuck me" not nearly so severe. Her inner heat grips you more than the condom could hope, and her soft groans and profanity drain the office of its dry air as if it were never there. Well, the draining is less the sound, and the dry less the extant, both because of what surrounds your cock.

You hold on for dear life as Arin rides you like she's trying to break something, but with no handles to save you, nor any mercy in her movements—up, down, side to side, her black tie and open shirt flapping about—you can only grip her hips and hope to keep up. It’s nothing new for how new it is. This is just like how she treats you, how she treats the class. Just like the rumors. She’s in charge, knows what she’s doing when she has you under her—the metaphorical thumb becomes the literal body; the pretense becomes past tense—and fuck, her body.

The sounds of slapping aren’t your work (yet); that’s her thick thighs and ass smacking against your crotch, hard enough to make her pleated skirt fly wildly. Then, her adorable tits, clad in that black lace, call out to you, have you leaning your head forward in some desperate maneuver to capture them in your mouth.

"Touch me." Arin guides your hand to where she's dripping wet, where her clit throbs impatiently. She arches her back at the simplest circle your fingers can manage, and you’re feeling more at home here, less regret. You’re also palming at her breasts over cloth, and she abates her rhythm to unclasp her bra, letting you have a taste of her nipples, firm and delicious in your gentle teeth and lips. That’s another handle, her breasts a needy handful to be kneaded.

You don’t have the right to command your professor, nor the will. The closest thing to a request is how you grab her loose tie, earning a pleasured squeal, and a harder ride. Hard enough her glasses might fall off. As always, she knows you and your wishes, no need for words: nails dig into your thighs, fingers run through your hair, hands explore all over your body. The touch sends you way too close to tripping off a cliff in a car crash that ends in explosion that might fill latex to its brink, so you do end up with a command, albeit expressed physically as you grab her waist to peel her off you.

When she pouts, she truly looks more like the schoolgirl in your fantasies than the professor who has your graduation at ransom. And how is it that you're the one with any sort of leverage in this situation? Maybe you can tell by her eyelids, falling close, mouth, falling open. Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right. You flip her over onto her stomach, pressing her into the cool, smooth surface of her desk with a resounding thud. She whimpers, arching her back and presenting her still-slick pussy to you like an offering. But instead of sliding your cock inside right away, a recipe for disaster and early nights, something else calls out to you. Her asshole, like a forbidden fruit, beckons you to your knees, and you spread her cheeks apart, flipping her skirt up and bringing her tight entrance into full view of your face.

You start with a kiss on the pale skin. "May I? Noona?"

She giggles, no semblance of a mind in the airy noise. "Please."

Continuing with more pecks, tender and loving on her beautiful behind, some kisses along her thighs where they’re squished by thigh-highs, then you get closer and closer until your mouth is around her asshole. While you undertook this sabbatical to let your furious erection and imminent orgasm simmer down, the first taste of your tongue inside of her ass does no favors for your arousal. Tangier, saltier, and hotter than you could have imagined, Arin's tightness envelopes your tongue in a way that makes you groan, the vibration resonating through her. Her fingers grab at the edge of the desk as she moans out your name, or maybe it's "fuck" and "yes," but either way, you know you've struck gold.

You lace your fingers through her folds while you deepen your one-sided French kiss, tonguing her anal passage.

"Oh, god. Yes, right there!" she squeals between pants, rocking her hips back and forth.

As much as you'd love to continue this exquisite torment, there are other needs to attend to. Withdrawing your tongue from her ass, you see a strand of her pussy juice connecting her thigh gap. You stand up, lining up your latex-covered length with her cunt. "Ready for me, Noona?" you ask, though you already have the slick cheat sheet answer on your fingers.

As you press your hardened cock against the velvet folds of her intimacy, you position yourself to plunge into her waiting warmth. However, instead of granting that eager penetration, you ruthlessly tease her entry with the rugged tip before pulling away prematurely. As though left bereft in a hollowness only your presence could fill, she instinctively chases after your ghostly retreat. She gasps out impatient words underscored by carnal desperation, "Don’t tease me. Fuck me already!"

The sharp crack of your palm on her round ass cheek echoes in the small office. A blossom of pink blooms on her fair skin.

Bunching her cheeks apart with strong fingers, you terminate all playful actions as snug heat engulfs your cock.

Each rhythmic thrust into Arin is executed with a savage fervor that serves to claim dominion over every inch of her, to take all semblance of control. Take everything she knows and transform that knowledge into this snapshot crackling sensation that’s reducing her to sobs and groans. Fuck the unspoken implications and the quiet tension built up throughout the school year. You thrust into her like loud is the only path forward, and this path of volume is where Arin follows you. A single tug on her makeshift ponytail prompts her grip at the edge of her desk, and whimpers turn to screams, screams that might hazardously fill the hallways. When she glances over her shoulder, you can see her whole face pleasure-wracked. It takes one or two more plunges for her to surrender completely, tight contractions traveling rhythmically over your engorged cock. Trembling through spasming ecstasy, her whole body reacts, but especially her substantial thighs. Despite how tight she gets, you don’t stop pumping until she’s flowed through her entire orgasm.

After you pull out into much cooler air (the condom covered in her nectar), Arin recovers from climax with a surprising quickness, bewildered half-laughs at her own highs. "You might be my favorite student now."

Even though she says it playfully, you still take it to heart, feeling a delighted warmth in your chest. So you thank her with all sincerity.

Rising to her feet, she takes hold of your erection with a lip-bite. She leads you cockwise toward her window, looking back at you through her glasses with a smirk that steals air. One moment she looks cute, the next she’s a succubus, a natural-born seductress.

Once Arin turns around, her palms seize contact with the cool glass window, presenting herself to you for another round. As though framed by the night herself, Arin couldn't be more exposed if she tried. Although it's late at night, the possibility of someone catching sight of Professor Arin, compromised and partially clothed, lingers in your mind. These moments are when and where and how rumors are born. But you refuse to let that hold you back.

Once again, you piston into Arin, fucking her standing. The darkness turns the window into a mirror, reflecting Arin's expressions of pure bliss. Watch the tantalizing bounce of her breasts in her open shirt, the glistening beads of sweat navigating downward across her lithe abdomen, how she’s forced onto tiptoes to thrust right back into you—it’s sensory overload.

You grab each of her wrists and pull them back, getting all the leverage you can to fuck her like a ragdoll manufactured for taking all the punishment you can give, skewering her body to the windowpane with your cock. Her face and glasses push against the window with each firm thrust, and how she’s given into you, it’s time to steer off the edge.

"Gonna fucking cum," you tell her, your hips working at a fiery pace, your pulsating cock gripped over and over by her insatiable pussy.

"Yes! Yes!" At this moment, there is no professor and student, only two creatures consumed by instinct. She is nothing more than a debauched schoolgirl in her uniform (only halfway so), eagerly taking everything you give her. And you give it to her.

Withdrawing just long enough to strip off the barrier between you both, you offer yourself hand-guided satisfaction, as you reward Arin with sticky shots of cum onto her lower back, each dimple and dip soaked by pools of your load. Some of it gets onto her cropped

The two of you laugh as you both stumble back into her desk. She gets tissues and hands them to you, so you clean the evidence.

Steering yourself onto the creaking chair leather, you’re soon joined in cozy proximity by Arin who nestles comfortably into your lap, her head into your neck’s crook.

"So does that mean I get free grades, Noona?"

She slaps your arm—and that familiarity is enough to picture domestic life with her as your partner, the sort of casual delusion she engenders. "Don't even joke about that!" Arin giggles, pretty and unabashed like everything else about her.

You scoff. "That's where you draw the line?"

Displaying rare seriousness, she narrows the gap between familiar lips so close it feels like sharing a breath. "You still smell like soju, you know." Her hand moves up to your hair, taking stock of you in your ruin and bliss. "God, you're so cute. I shouldn't be doing this."

"Well, you did," you point out.

She nods, and nods, and laughs, until nothing separates lips anymore, sealing the context between professor and student, which somehow fits perfectly... like missing puzzle pieces that finally found each other, or a story that’s found its climax in this moment. The intimate tangle in her office chair goes from tongues to jaws to lower and intimate. Arin kisses the muscles of your chest, and you kiss the valley of her breasts.

"Why do you wear stuff like this?" you ask as you hold open her cropped shirt.

"Because I can," she says with all earnestness, and you believe her; it’s just as you figured.

Looking down at her thigh-highs, you tell her, "You know you look like an amateur camgirl."

"Ooh, now that’s an idea." Arin goes for your throat in literal and other ways.

As you make out with the straddling Arin, you return the favor with her own hickey, which you notice at class the next morning. You're proud of the little purple thing there on her skin, the opposite of proud of the whispers they cause. But like all things Professor Arin, these pass. And like all things Professor Arin, she winks, and you too pass.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

#oh my girl smut #kpop smut #male reader #reader insert

[nexysworld]

Can you do a fem reader x leon where fem reader told leon for every infected/enemy he Kills she will Kiss him and for every boss he kills she will she sleep with him

Leon took that offer and he pretty much did his part of the deal 😉 and he gets his prize at the end

LOVE this idea - not sure if this is exactly what you meant but I ran with it literally. 💜

Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Masterlist ~ High Score ~ Pairing: Fem!Reader x Leon Kennedy Tags: NSFW, Smut, Blowjobs, Unprotected sex, Fem!Receiving Oral, Mild manipulation, overstimulation, use of cuffs, Switch!Leon, no use of Y/N, not really proof read srry. Wordcount: 2.5k

Leon had been badgering you for attention ever since he got back from his most recent work excursion. Unfortunately for your boyfriend, this weekend just happened to be the release of the remake of one of your favorite childhood video games: Zombie Slayer 4. You dropped hundreds of dollars on the special release and even camped outside the local game store to get it, nothing and no one, was going to pry you away from it.

“You’ve been playing for hours. Don’t you think it’s time to give it a break? We can go out to dinner or something.” “No Lee, I’m only a quarter of the way through.” “How!? You’ve been playing for like 20 hours straight!” “Because I am taking my time and ensuring I collect all the treasure.” “What the hell do zombies need treasure for?” “The Zombies don’t need the treasure, I do, to sell so I can buy better weapons.” You heard him groan in response. Leon wasn’t big on video games, especially not horror ones - says they reminded him too much of work. You could understand, while you weren’t a field agent, you did file their reports and were privy to mission details. “Come on babe, please? I missed you.” Leon had slunk to the floor behind you, wrapping his arms under yours, and folding his hands together over your chest. You could feel his boner pressing into you through his pajama pants. “Are you serious right now?” “I really missed you.” He emphasized as he wiggled his hips against you. “Leon. I’ve been waiting for this remake for like 7 years now. You’ll live by occupying yourself for one weekend.” You crooked your neck to face him and nearly died. He was giving you his absolute best kicked-puppy look, those endlessly blue eyes just radiated need and sadness. “Oh come on, don’t give me that face.”

In response he amped it up further, even jutting his bottom lip out in a pout. Damn him and his stupidly handsome features. As close as your wall came to crumbling down, it wasn’t entirely ready to fall yet - an idea popped into your head. “Fine Leon, how about a deal then? If you want my attention so bad, play a level on Hardcore mode, for every zombie you kill, I’ll give you a kiss. If you kill a boss, I’ll relieve that tension in your pants. Hmm?” “What if I kill more than one boss?” “For every boss you kill, that’s one round under the sheets.” “And if I beat your score?” “Pretty confident in yourself for someone who doesn’t like games.” “Humor me.” “Fine, if you beat my score, I’ll even go out to dinner with you and spend the rest of the night cuddling.” “Deal!” He shouted with no hesitation, yanking the controller from your hand. “Killing monsters in a game isn’t the same as real life, Mr. Sharp Shooter.” A smug smile adorned your features. You’d only made the deal knowing that Leon didn’t play video games, assuming he’d crash and burn. A great miscalculation. 

He was a beast, mowing down enemies left and right, even making swift work of both bosses without taking any damage. Your jaw dropped as the high-score music played, a rave of colors blasting from the TV. He’d not only beat your score but hit the max points possible. “You were saying?” “What the hell…how did you do that? I thought you….I can’t believe that.” “I told you I didn’t like video games, not that I wasn’t good at them.” He set the controller down before leaning back into you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “So then, how about my prize, Sweetheart? Looks like you’re in debt about 1000 kisses and two rounds below the belt.” 

“Ok fine. A deal’s a deal.” 

Leon removed himself from you so he could sit back on the couch, hands tucked behind his head for comfort. His deliciously plush lips were turned up into a smile. “Well baby, get to it.” 

Pushing yourself off the ground you made your way over to him, leaning down to start pressing kisses to the corner of his mouth, trailing a line along his jaw. He tilted his head for you to have better access to his neck as you worked your way down.

Normally he was the one covering you in a map of purple and red, but you were in quite a bit of debt and couldn’t afford to leave any of him untouched and unmarked. By the time you’d reached his pecs he was already trying to buck up into you for some friction, but you remained in a position where only your mouth was on him, your arms steadying yourself. “Baby, I need you so bad.” At least your plan to tease him was working, with him already pleading for you. “And you have me Lee. I owe you a lot of kisses, so you need to be patient.” You continued lower, nipping at the skin of his stomach, dragging your tongue down across his abs and past his naval before kissing back up the trail of saliva. There was something about the way his muscles felt contracting under your touch that drove you wild. 

You didn’t even need to look down to know there was a growing wet spot forming on his gray pajama pants. Making your way back down you gave slow nips along the skin just above the hem of his pants before digging your fingers into the waistband, pulling them down just enough to free his erection. You placed small kisses all over the head and down the shaft making him whimper more. “Baby don’t tease…” “Not teasing - should’ve thought this through before killing so many enemies.” You gave him a sly smile. As much as you wanted to continue though, even your own willpower was waning with him right in front of your face like this.

Bringing a hand up you gave him a few slow pumps, watching as precum oozed from the tip and ran down, catching it with your tongue. You licked up the underside before finally taking the head into your mouth sucking as you bobbed your head shallowly. 

A relieved moan escaped his lips as he jerked his hips forward, causing his tip to hit the back of your throat gagging you slightly. “Mm sorry, feels so good, just can’t help it.” His hand found its way to your hair holding you in place for a moment as drool dripped down the corners of your mouth. “You always look so pretty like this.” You took in a big gulp of air when he let you pop off, before guiding you back down, balls slapping resting against your chin, while you relaxed your throat taking him deeper and deeper. He let go of your hair allowing you to move freely, burying your nose in the wiry hair of his pelvis each time you swallowed him down. 

He was close, you could tell by the way it throbbed in your mouth and the heady noises he no longer bothered to attempt to contain. It was rare you got the needy submissive version of Leon and you loved it. You’d stay between his legs for eternity if it meant hearing him like this, seeing his eyes closed tight, tongue almost hanging out.

It was euphoric seeing such a tough strong guy become a melted mess because of you. 

Adding your hands to to the mix, you massaged his balls with your left hand, right coming up to help jerk the base of his cock focusing your mouth on pleasuring the tip, sucking and lapping at the slit with your tongue. “Oh god that feels so good. Baby I’m gonna –” 

You didn’t let him finish his sentence speeding up your movements. Within a moment hot cum was sliding down your throat with each twitch of his cock. Just for fun, you removed your hand, taking him to the base again overstimulating him as he writhed beneath you. “Ah, ah, ah, c-can’t, too sensitive….ah..” Despite his pleas he made no move to remove you or say the safeword, so you kept going a little longer before sliding off with a pop. You continued to give slow agonizing pumps as you peppered more kisses to the tip, milking whatever cum was left. 

“Think you’re real cute doing all that, huh?” His cheeks were beautifully flushed from the intensity and overstimulation of his orgasm. “No clue what you’re talking about - just playing by the rules of the agreement.” 

You knew you were in for it now that he’d caught his breath. Quickly he’d removed his pants the rest of the way before your own clothes were being torn off. 

His lips caught yours in a passionate kiss as his hands wandered, palming one breasts and running his thumb over the nippple of your other. Walking you backwards towards the bedroom, he barely gave you the chance to breathe before he was back to sucking on your lips and shoving his tongue down your throat. 

Unceremoniously you were tossed onto the bed, wrists being bound to the metal headboard by the fuzzy cuffs that were left there for special occasions. “The cuffs, really?” “Can’t trust your bratty little hands after what you did.” 

Leon kept your legs pinned open with his knees as he worked your breasts, sucking on your nipples and kneading them. The sensation made you want to squirm, already having been turned on from blowing him, slick had already been pooling down your thighs. Your clit was throbbing and in desperate need of attention, but you were unable to move or do anything to get relief. “Aww poor baby, want something?” “Mhm.” “Too bad, should’ve thought about that before all your teasing.” Leon mimicked your previous motions, sucking and kissing up and down your body, doing any and everything but touching you where you so desperately needed. You felt your pussy desperately trying to clamp around nothing, clit aching with an arousal so deep it made your whole body feel hot. 

You wiggled, cuffs jingling against the bed, trying to get him to hurry up. “Please Lee, ‘m so sorry.” “Is that so? I don’t believe you.” He gave a suck to skin above your hip bone. Not bothering to truly speed up he continued to kiss down your pelvis, just above where you want him most, before he skipped that spot entirely to suck on your thighs. “You’re so fucking wet even without being touched. Do you like sucking me off that bad, or are you just so needy that it only takes some kissing to get you going?”

“Both. Both. Both.” You chanted trying to buck your hips up for more stimulation, again halted by his arms holding you in place. “So bratty before, now you wanna act like a greedy baby?” He chuckled but finally obliged leaning forward and giving a suck to your clit before circling it with the tip of his tongue. The sensation radiated pleasureful tingles from your core outwards, nearly overwhelmed by it. “Thank you. God thank you.” You prayed. He was being nice now, even letting you rut against his face to relieve yourself. His nose rubbed deliciously against your sensitive bud while his tongue slid in and out of you with each rapid movement of your hips. It should’ve been a red flag, he was never this nice when the cuffs came out – but you were far to lost in pleasure to think or care. Heat was building up in your core and you were so close. You wanted to grab his hair, or at least find purchase for your hand somewhere, but the cuffs kept them hanging above you. He brought his mouth back to your clit sucking on it a few more times, leaving you screaming his name as you flung your head back. Your legs shook and toes trembled as the heat in your core snapped and rushed out of you. Before you’d even got the chance to bask in the aftershocks of your first orgasm, he kept going sucking and lapping at your clit. Pupils blown you were breathless, your legs trembled as you let out the most pathetically feral noise, a mix of a pleading whine and a moan as he continued working your now far too overstimulated clit. “Too much.” You managed to get out. “You can do it for me baby, one more.” He cooed before resuming his sloppy attack between your shaking thighs. This time around he added two fingers into your sopping whole, giving your walls something to cling to, working them in and out. 

You were a sputtering mess, not able to do anything besides accept the overwhelming pleasure. Tears ran down your face when your second orgasm was ripped from you, causing you to kick and buck wildly. 

Leon pulled away, wiping the wetness from his chin. “You always look the most beautiful right after I ruin you baby.” He leaned forward pressing soft kisses to your forehead and then cheeks, giving you time to relax and come down from your spot on cloud 9. “You ok baby, still with me?” You nodded, brain slowly allowing you to come back to the moment. He unhooked the cuffs from the bed allowing your arms to fall to your side. “You want to stop? We don’t have to keep going.” “‘M fine.” “You sure?” “Yeah, still want you to fuck me. Please? Wanna be good and finish your prize” “Can’t say no to that.” He leaned forward and kissed you soft and slowly, far more romantic than his earlier actions. He slid the head of himself up and down your slit gathering the slick there before slowly pushing himself into your hole, burying himself to the hilt. It felt so good to finally be stretched out around him. Keening you arched your back again and he took the opportunity to wrap an arm under you, keeping you close while he fucked you at a steady pace, ensuring you felt every movement. 

His name left your mouth each time his tip kissed your cervix, legs bouncing on his shoulders as he leaned into the mating press more so he could kiss you again. “You’re so perfect. So perfect. I love you so much.” He buried his face in your neck, and you wound your arms around him, enjoying the intimate closeness, feeling your third orgasm so close. Leon adjusted and propped himself up with his arms so he could speed up, pistoning his hips against yours. “Gonna cum again.” “Me too Sweetheart, cum with me, alright?” You nodded slinking your hand down between your melded bodies gently rubbing at your clit. The second the walls of your pussy clamped down around him with your own orgasm, his second one crashed down around him – more hot ropes of cum splatted your insides. Once soft again, he pulled collapsing next to you. With heavy limbs you managed to flop over him, resting your head on his chest, arm splayed over his abdomen. The moments of silence that followed were blissful – until he spoke again. “So…what are you feeling for dinner?” “Are you still serious about that? God, what does it take to tire you out.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine, let’s go to that Hibachi place on main street.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He rubbed small circles into your back while he allowed you to recover, game now completely forgotten.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #re4r #re4r leon #x reader #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fem!reader

[zablife]

Hey Lee! I’ve got another gif request for you!! 😄

Is there anything you can do with this one?

A Toast (Dark AU)

You cried as you attempted to fasten the dress which had grown woefully small. "Miss Y/l/n, can I be of any help?" Frances asked sweetly.

"Oh, Frances, I don't think so," you said, wiping a tear from your eye. "But would you tell Mr. Shelby I won't be down just yet?" you said, plastering on a smile.

"Of course, ma'am," she replied, closing the door behind her. You twisted your fingers, thinking of a way out. Perhaps you didn't have to attend the dinner tonight with his family.

"What's this Frances tells me about you not coming down to dinner, love?" Tommy asked, striding toward your vanity.

"I'm not feeling very well," you lied. Perhaps it wasn't a lie though, you'd been throwing up all morning. He hadn't noticed because he'd been in his office.

Tommy rubbed a large hand down your back, studying you in the mirror. He had noticed your cheeks were fuller the last couple of weeks the same way Grace's had when she was carrying Charlie. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your neck as he whispered, "Have something you want to tell me, darling?"

Your heartbeat quickened as you realized he knew the truth and you swallowed harshly, trying to find the words to explain yourself. "Tommy...I wanted to tell you.."

"No, don't apologize," he said, hand coming to cradle your midsection gently, a smirk creeping onto his face.

It sickened you to see how pleased he was with himself. This wasn't meant to be more than a bit of summer fun. You'd told him so from the beginning when he whisked you away from London with promises of a holiday in the country. You'd been quite clear that you had no intention of playing house forever.

Removing his hand from your belly, you turned with a regretful look in your eye. "I'm sorry, Tom, but you misunderstand. I don't want a child. I asked you to be careful, remember?" you said, biting your lip as you noticed his eyes darkening. "I'd like to have it taken care of as soon as possible," you continued, eyes dropping to the ground.

Grasping your chin harshly, Tommy forced you to look at him, his piercing blue eyes boring a hole into you as you withered beneath him. "Don't you ever fucking talk about ridding yourself of my child again. Do you understand? We'll marry and you'll stay here at Arrow House," he said decisively, shoving your face away. You stared at him, eyes welling with tears at the pronouncement he had made about your future, completely disregarding your feelings.

"You can't do that," you spat at him forcefully. "Just try and keep me here," you said attempting to push past him. He captured your wrists in a painful hold, immobilizing you as he hissed, "Fucking try me and see what happens to you."

You thrashed against him repeating the words you'd longed to say since you found out about the baby. "I hate you. I hate what you did to me!" Then you heard it, the crack of your bone before the searing pain in your wrist. You fell to the floor cradling it, mouth open in a silent scream. Tommy towered over you, firelight flickering over his face as though he were the devil himself.

"You'll look after my child, then you can do as you please. But don't think of running or you could have a worse accident, my love," he warned before slamming the door behind himself.

Two hours later the family assembled in the sitting room, glasses of champagne in their hands as they toasted the happy couple. Everyone beamed at the news of not only an engagement, but a new baby as well. It was unfortunate that you'd had an accident riding that day, but Tommy was being so attentive, everyone whispered how thoughtful he was to his bride to be. You were a match made in heaven and all anyone could discuss was how lucky you were to be away from the city in the loving embrace of a man like Tommy.

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x reader #dark!Tommy #Tommy Shelby

[sunboki]

༉‧₊˚. BITE ME.

finally getting into your dream college as a nursing major, it just so happens that this college in question is prestigious for its long history—and for the notorious eight vampires attending as well?! these mysterious eight spend their days either collecting an army of fangirls or breaking hearts. but when one of the eight vampires takes interest in you, you find yourself in quite a sticky situation when your vampire-hating brother steps in.

‍ ୨୧ pairing; vampire!lee minho x human! reader

‍ ୨୧ genre; SMAU, social media au, supernatural au, romance, angst, comedy, college au, eventual implied smut

୨୧ warnings; swearing, blood, alcohol, reader is suggested as female

୨୧ status; completed

୨୧ authors note; hi everyone! this is my first SMAU so you know how it goes from there. my taglist will be opening for this series and uploads will be on the weekends!! please enjoy the idea that stirred in my mind at an ungodly hour of night.

✞ Y/N & FRIENDS ‍ ✞ MINHO & FRIENDS

01. tour guide lix

02. oh no minho

03. princess fits you well

04. “D” stands for dick-head

05. i almost feel spoiled

06. i’m a vampire.

07. is this something friends do?

08. serious trust issues

09. he’s a pure-blood?!

10. men vampires in black

11. certified mr. popular

12. prove it to you

13. just trying to be a nurse

14. let them see

15. what are we?

16. mission bite me: start!

17. mission bite me: complete?

18. where is noona?

19. no traces

20. insomnia over you

21. my farewell <- FINALE

all rights reserved to @sunboki

#skz fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #skz angst #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids smau #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz smau #lee minho #skz lee minho #skz lee know #skz minho #lee know #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #minho angst #minho fluff #minho smut #lee minho smut #lee minho fluff #lee minho angst

[booiiee]

Brooklyn Baby

Pairing: Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) × Female Reader

Tags: Fluff, Hyunjae is WHIPPED, They bicker- a LOT, they love each other so much, it's pathetic actually, eventual smut (duh), separate tags and warnings for smut in the smut chapter. MINORS DNI!!

For @un-love 🩷🩷

-------

Chapter 1

It's summer of 2024 you've just shifted your whole life to Brooklyn New York, a decision that you and your friends and family had to all collectively take, Brooklyn is expensive and people are rude sometimes but for the first time you're building your life

You love your job, not a lot of therapist can say that specially with how taxing the job can be, but you really love your job, you're one of the most loved therapist at Brooklyn's biggest hospital NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital (yes i googled that) and let's just say you earn enough to have an entire studio apartment to yourself, something that you've come to realize, you love.

Your job is many things but it is not a job where you have a lot of free time, it might even be busier than working at a fashion magazine like your friend Daisy does,some days she is the only reminder of your life back in your home country, and your love for kpop and a certain kpop idol- Lee Jaehyun from The Boyz.

“Miss Rose, the director wants to see you.” your thoughts were interrupted by your assistant Liz- or Elizabeth, informing you of your rather sudden meeting with the director. Now the old Jasmine would absolutely lose it over being called by the director but moving to a place like Brooklyn from India has made you indifferent to these small anxiety triggering things.

To say that you were surprised would be the understatement of the century. The director had assigned you a patient of your busy (lazy) colleague, some VIP, whose case was “of utmost importance” to the hospital, which in itself was making you angry as if one life was worth more than the other. Nonetheless, you were gonna treat this patient like any other patient.

“Hi, Mr. Eric? I am Dr. Rose. I am taking over your case as of today, as informed. Please follow me this way” you introduce yourself to a tall man with freshly dyed brunette hair with a mask. He must be some high profile person given the way he was avoiding the stares from people.

R- You can keep the mask on until you feel comfortable to talk without them, our session can happen without you having to show your face.

E- Oh that is a relief thank you doctor.

R- So tell me Eric, what do you love doing when you are the most stressed and when you have a lot of leisure time?

E- Oh I thought you’d start with asking me my sickness

R- You say sickness like it is a bad thing

E- Is it not?

R- Well being sick is not great but it is not something derogatory.

*No one is born a patient and no one stays a patient till the end*.

*(From Daily dose of Sunshine)

As far as the questions go, if you’d rather me start with discussing your diagnosis, i am happy to do so

E- No its…its okay we can do your method.

I am skipping the actual therapy part because I am neither a licensed therapist nor a psych student to be writing that.

The 3 weeks you were assigned Eric’s case you found that against your better judgment, you guys were becoming almost friends, which is to say was weird in more ways than one. You were his therapist and you did not know what he looked like. You never asked him to take off his mask. He never mentioned why he prefers to wear one. So you decided you’d start and stay away from him in the hospital corridors when you often bump into each other after his session with your colleague.

E- I know we are not supposed to be friends and all that protocol, but you have really helped me in ways i could never explain and i am not the best person when it comes to gifts but i asked my friend j and he suggested this since you like to read- i've seen all those books in your office

Your gasp was audible to not only Eric but a few staff around as he pulled out a blue box. Eric quickly pulled you aside and for the first time, took off his mask.

R- You’re THE Eric?????

E- I mean I dont really say that about myself but i think you know me? Which is even better, so you know that i can afford this and im not robbing a bank for this gift, which also is not the case cause J bought this really-

R- Wait, I WILL not accept that, and give me a minute Wow! okay.

Eric, hi, I love your music and you'd understand when i say how weird this is to know my patient is a member of the group i love

E- aww doc you’re a fan. That makes me wanna be your friend even moore

R- Yeah, we’re gonna…we’ll talk about that later.

Wait, you're Eric from TBZ, so your friend J who often drops you to your session, the one who bought this SUPER EXPENSIVE gift, is J, Jaehyun? As in, Lee Jaehyun?

E- Yup you got that right! The one and only! In Fact he is on his way up, now that you’ve seen me, we can all talk comfortably

R- Oh No… no no, NO.

E- But why? Do you not like Hyunjae? *Gasp* Are you a hyunjae antiii??

R- WHAT???? NO! I could never hate my Hyunjae! not in this lifetime for suree!!!

“Well that’s good to know, Miss Rose”

You could identify that voice in a room full of noisy people, let alone the silence of the corridor, so you had no choice but to tun around and see a curly haired masked man smiling at you. Oh this is not good for your job.

-----

Chapter 2 will be posted super soon!!

#hyunjae fluff #hyunjae #lee jaehyun #tbz #tbz hyunjae #tbz × reader #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #the boyz fluff #kpop boygroups

[yespolkadotkitty]

May I please ask for a Rhett Abbott imagine?

Of course!

Plot Twist

Words: 1100 ~ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x female bookstore owner reader ~ Content: fluff, non explicit sex, tooth rotting sweetness

You hear a soft rap on the glass, and when you look up, Rhett Abbott is there, slight smile on his face, hat in place, hair curling under it at the nape of his neck.

You can’t help but grin. 

If you’re working at the store, he comes to see you every day, without fail. Sometimes you’ll have lunch together, sometimes you don’t. Rhett might be busy collecting feed for the steer or mending fences; you might have a local author signing over the lunch hour. But you made time for each other as often as you could.

You wave and he waves back, the hint of a blush creeping up his neck.

You’d never known that Rhett Abbott could blush. Who’d have guessed?

A customer comes in, making the little bell on the shop door ring cheerily, and when you look back to the window, Rhett’s gone. It doesn’t matter; you know you’re seeing him tonight.

He’s a cowboy straight out of romance novels by the likes of Lorelei James, Linda Howard, and Sable Hunter, and you can’t get enough of his long legs in worn blue jeans, or the way he leaves the top few buttons of his plaid shirt left undone.

You’d never have imagined being with Rhett like this. It’s an unexpected plot twist.

In high school, he was often running wild with the rowdier kids. He’d started rodeo years ago, and you’d watch him on the bucking steer, wondering what it was like to command that much power, even for less than ten seconds.

It wasn’t until some years later, when his niece Amy broke her leg and had to stay in bed, that you got to know each other.

He’d come in to buy her some books to entertain her as she recovered. You were only too happy to recommend books for her age group. She loved them, and Rhett started to make a regular appearance, one day asking you out for coffee.

It went from there.

And when he slow danced with you on Valentine’s at the Handsome Gambler, you knew you were a goner.

Rhett sometimes brings you wildflowers, apologising that he can’t afford a fancy bouquet from the store. You don’t care. You prefer the ones he handpicks from the wild areas around the ranch pastures. They always smel so sweet.

The day at the bookstore passes quickly. You helped a regular, old Mrs Taylor, with collecting her new sci fi novel - her house was decorated like a spaceship, she was one of your all time favourite customers - and you priced up new releases by Jodi Taylor, Lee Child and Becky Chambers.

Five o’clock rolled around. When you locked up, Rhett was leaning against the lamppost opposite the door, hands in his pockets. He straightened up when you appeared.

“Afternoon, darlin’.”

“Afternoon yourself.” You lift your face for his kiss and he obliges, settling his hands on your hips. You sigh into his mouth, feel his lips curve against yours.

“Love gettin’ sugar from you,” he says softly. “How was your day?”

“Good. You?”

He tucks a curl of your hair behind your ear. “Sweaty. Dad needed help roundin’ up a steer that split from the herd. Had time to grab a shower before I came here, though.”

“Shame. I like you dirty.”

He groans. “Can’t talk like that in public, girl.”

“Maybe I better wait until we’re in your truck.”

He shakes his head, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. “I done lucked out with you, you know that? You’ve got all the sweetness of a librarian with the filthy mind of someone who writes erotic fiction.”

“Well, you have my extensive reading to thank for that.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “Remind me to write and thank your favourite authors.” He takes your hand and leads you to the truck. You drive out together to your favourite picnic spot, a field of wildflowers on the very edge of the Abbott property.

You share a picnic basket Rhett has prepped, with ham and slaw sandwiches, strawberries, petit fours and potato chips, and then you draw a book out of your bag.

“Bought something to read to you.”

His face lights up. “You did?”

“Of course. C’mere, cowboy.”

He stretches out and settles his head in your lap. His hat has long ago been discarded over by the picnic basket and you thread your fingers through his hair. It’s soft from his shower, smells of some botanical mix of herbs from his shampoo, cypress and something else, and you love it.

He sighs and his eyes drift closed as you begin to read Our Souls are Mirrors by Rupi Kaur.

You read and read until the sun begins to set, and when it does, Rhett undresses you slowly, one garment at a time, until you’re naked under the big Wyoming Sky, and then he takes his time exploring you with his hands and mouth, until you’re trembling with pleasure, unable to form any syllables but his name.

Only when you’re lax with bliss does he push into you, bracing his body above your own. You wrap your legs around his waist as he mutters praise into the curve where your neck and shoulder meet. How you’re his good girl, the only one for him. How you make him feel so good. You clench your fingers on his shoulders, buck up into him. It makes him wild, and you come together under the early evening starlight.

After, you curl into him. He drapes his shirt over you to keep you cosy.

“Better drive you back soon,” he says absently. “Or you could stay over. If you want.”

“I do want. It’s not like your parents’ll be surprised to see me in the morning.”

He huffs out a laugh. “My mom’ll want to talk your ear off about books, I hope you know that. And Amy’s started readin’ that Heartstopper series you got her into. It’s all she talks about.”

You smile against his chest, as his heart bears steadily under your ear. “Who knew, the Abbott family, secret bookworms.”

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@lawfulgranola @sebsxphia @hederasgarden @a-reader-and-a-writer @lorecraft @nerdysuperchick @callsign-phoenix @tallrock35 @juniebugg @wildbornsiren @green-socks

#plot twist verse #rhett abbott #outer range #lewis pullman

[i-just-like-goats]

Felix x Reader

Summary: oh what you’d give just to see Felix smiling again

Warnings: suggestions of death. Some injury detail. Mentions of an aeroplane crash.

WC: 1.5k

Main Masterlist

Part 2

20 December 2021. The day Felix was meant to fly to Australia. He had initially declined the ticket, but you were adamant that he go see his family. You even had to bring up the fact that his family were expecting him for Felix to finally give in and accept the ticket.

You were at home preparing for your Christmas alone. Without Felix. As you put the last ornament on your Christmas tree, you braced yourself for Mrs Lee’s questions. But they never came. Instead of the texts greeting you and wondering why Felix came alone, they read:

“Y/N. Please call me”

“Y/N, it’s about Felix”

“His plane crash landed. We’re currently at the hospital, but we don’t know what’s going to happen”

Your eyes widened.

“Hello?” Mrs Lee sniffled.

“Mrs Lee. How are you? How’s Felix? Is there any update on his condition?”

“He’s being operated on right now,” a pause, “It’s to remove some of the metal that lodged into his body. He’s in critical condition,” Mrs Lee whispered the last sentence out.

Your heart broke at the sound of her weak and small voice.

“I’ll book a ticket right now. Take care Mrs Lee. I’ll see you in a few hours,”

You hung up then immediately started to pack a small suitcase with your essentials. With an anxious heart, you rushed to get to the airport as quickly as possible.

“Good evening ma’am. How can I help you?”

“When’s your earliest plane to Australia?”

“The next one is at ten thirty pm,”

“Are there any seats available?”

“There is one vacant seat in economy. Would you like to book it?”

“Yes please,”

She typed and clicked away for a few minutes as you anxiously fiddled with your sleeve.

“Thank you for choosing to fly with us today,”

The woman smiled and handed you your ticket. You went to check in and go through security checks. 

“Hi Mrs Lee. I’m currently at the airport waiting to board. My flight leaves at ten thirty, so I should be there in eight hours or so,”

“Alright Y/N. I’ll have Mr Lee pick you up,”

“It’s fine, I was just planning to grab a taxi. Please don’t trouble yourselves,”

“I insist, he needs to get out and distract himself for a bit,”

“Thank you Mrs Lee,”

“You’re welcome,”

Two hours went by in the waiting area in nervous silence. Once your plane was ready for boarding, you quickly walked onto the aeroplane. You yawned in exhaustion. The worry you felt fatigued you, so you slept. When you awoke, the plane was about to land. You got off the plane and went to collect your suitcase. You stepped out of the airport and saw a tired Mr Lee waving at you.

“Hello Y/N,”

“Hi Mr Lee, how’s Felix?”

“His surgery ended several hours ago, but now we’re just waiting to see if he wakes up,”

“I’m sure he will. We just need to have hope,”

“With you around, he’s sure to wake up. Come on, let’s go,”

You couldn’t meet Mr Lee’s eyes when he said that. You guessed Felix hadn’t told them prior to his flight and he obviously didn’t have the chance when he landed. The car ride was silent, which you found to be suffocating. Under normal circumstances, it would have been calming, but all it did was leave you with your thoughts. What if Felix didn’t make it? What if you never got to see his smile again? What if his last memory of you was you crying because of him? No, like you said, you needed to stay hopeful.

“We’re here,”

You nodded and got out of the car. Mr Lee led the way to Felix’s room as you trailed behind him, fearing for the state you would see Felix in. Mrs Lee and Felix’s two sisters sat around his bed, all with red eyes from crying. Your heart broke for them. They’ve known Felix the longest, while you only knew him for a fraction of those years these people have known him. Your pain could not compare to theirs.

Finally, you settled your eyes on Felix. A bruise decorated his forehead, as well as a few minor cuts, but other than that, he looked relatively peaceful. His expression was easy, even with the mask in the way, you could tell he was peaceful.

“Sit down Y/N. You’ve been standing there for several minutes.” Mrs Lee broke the silence.

You took the seat next to Olivia.

“How long are you staying?” She whispered.

“It was a last minute ticket, but my last vacation day is the fifth of January, so I can leave anytime before then,”

“Please stay. He needs you,”

You stiffened. They really didn’t know. But you didn’t want to add any more worries onto their shoulders.

“I’m not going to leave anytime soon,”

“Say Y/N. Why didn’t you come with Felix?” Rachel asked.

“I made a mistake booking the tickets, and Felix’s flight was full, so I had to come today instead,”

“Oh ok. At least you’re here now. And you’re safe,” she replied.

“Have you guys eaten?”

They shook their heads simultaneously.

“When was the last time you guys ate?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t remember,” Olivia said.

“Though now that you mention it, I am hungry,”

Rachel mused.

“You guys should go eat. I’ll stay here,”

“Are you sure?” Mr Lee asked.

“Yes. Go eat. You’re going to need your strength to get through these next few days,”

They left you alone with Felix. You took the seat closest to his bed and clasped his colder hand in yours. You didn’t utter anything for a while, just sat there silently with his hand in yours as you yearned for his eyes to blink open.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Felix just wake up. Your family needs you. Wake up for them, please. Wake up, for me,”

To your disappointment, no reply came from him, not even the slightest movement, just the steady beep of the machine. The next few days passed just the same, with you rarely leaving Felix’s side and bargaining with the universe just to see him open his eyes again.

25 December 2021. Still, Felix’s eyes remained stubbornly closed. It was evening, and the Lees had temporarily left the hospital to buy some festive food. It was still Christmas after all.

“Merry Christmas Felix. My gift for you is still wrapped in my home, waiting to be opened, but you got hospitalised and I forgot it in my haste. I hope that’s alright with you,”

Tears formed in your eyes when the thought that your gift would never be opened if Felix didn’t make it. It had only been a few days, but still your hope dwindled.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t insisted that you go, we wouldn’t be in this situation. You wouldn’t be like this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you sobbed.

You were too blinded by your tears and too busy furiously wiping your tears away to notice Felix’s finger moving.

“It’s ok,” a voice rasped out, “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you,”

You gasped and took a look at Felix’s body. There he was, almost the same, but his eyes were definitely open and his mouth was almost definitely curled in a smile.

“Felix?” You whispered.

“The one and only,”

“Felix, oh my gosh. I was so scared. I was so scared that you wouldn’t wake up,”

“There’s no need to worry anymore. I’m awake and I completely don’t mind that you left my gift in Korea. Though I am worried myself that I didn’t get you a gift at all, considering our- my misunderstanding,”

“This is already the best gift. Seeing you awake is the greatest gift. Merry Christmas Felix,”

“Merry Christmas Y/N,”

“You know, this whole experience has made me realise that I miss you. I miss our relationship. And the tears that I would shed every day made me realise that living without you in my life is just so hard,”

“Since I’ve given my gift, why don’t you give me yours by saying yes? Y/N, will you go on a date with me once I’m better?”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“What did I just say? Just say ‘yes’ and all will be right in the world. I still don’t deserve you or your forgiveness, but I’m willing to work for it, if you’ll let me,”

“Of course I’ll let you. I just said that I can’t live without you,”

“Good. Because I can’t live without you either,”

Felix’s family rushed back after you called and suddenly the once dreary hospital room was lively with chatter as the Lees embraced Felix. As his family smothered him with their bodies, you made eye contact with him as you walked back into the room with a coffee and he smiled. You smiled in return. Despite earlier events, this was probably your best Christmas with Felix. You both made up, he was alive and his family were there to celebrate with both of you. Your smile widened, you’ve forgiven Felix and your relationship is mending.

All was right in the world, just like Felix said.

A/N: I’m evil but I’m not that evil. That said, it’s finished! Thank you guys for reading this, it’s been a pleasure interacting with you guys and seeing your reactions.

#felix lee #lee felix #lee felix angst #lee felix x y/n #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x y/n #skz felix x reader #skz felix #skz angst #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n

[packagingofworld]

Happiness frequently seems ephemeral. Our blissful moments are just that—moments. After all, there are a lot of instances during the day when we don't feel good (like when you're under stress at work or dealing with a stressful commute).

Even if you're feeling really worried or depressed, there are still simple things you can do to remind yourself of all the happy moments and add a tiny bit of joy to your day. These happy quotes are a wonderful place to start.

Take the time to browse through our collection of uplifting quotations, whether you need a little pick-me-up or want to add more joy to an already wonderful day. Short proverbs that celebrate life's joys, endearing statements that promote self-love (some of which may even be used as affirmations), and, of course, a few amusing proverbs that you can quickly post with an Instagram photo are all included. Your decision is yours.

John Waitley Happiness is an intangible that cannot be acquired, purchased, worn, or eaten. The spiritual experience of living each moment with love, grace, and thankfulness is what makes us happy.

Mr. Wilde Some spread joy wherever they go, while others do so whenever they do.

Beyoncé Take good care of yourself, maintain your health, and enjoy the wonderful aspects of who you are.

President Lincoln Most people are generally as content as they decide to be.

Theodore Waldo Emerson A minute of anger costs you sixty seconds of enjoyment.

Winfrey, Oprah Living the life of your dreams is the largest adventure you will ever experience.

Elizabeth Retton Being positive attracts happiness. Positive thinking will cause good things and nice people to gravitate toward you.

Keller, Helen Even solitude and darkness are beautiful, and I discover there how to be pleased in any situation.

Epictetus Happiness can only be attained by putting an end to worries about things that are beyond of our control.

John Marabol Cry. Forgive. Learn. Pass on. Let your tears fertilize the joy you will have in the future.

Ralph William Inge Those with no specific reason to be happy other than the fact that they are tend to be the happiest.

Sheryl Underwood Each day is a brand-new day.

Bob Ross's aesthetic is prevalent. To see it, all you need to do is look.

Jonathan K. Zinn You can learn to swim, but you can't stop the waves.

Tolle, Eckhart You are the dance, and life is the dancer.

Lennon, John By your friends' ages, not years, determine your age. Smile more often in life than cry.

Ingrid Alvarez The goal is to spread compassion rather than repay it.

Author: Gabriel Garca Márquez What happiness cannot cure, no medication can.

Unknown You have all you need if you appreciate what you already have.

April Angelou If you just have one grin left, share it with the people you care about.

Hepburn, Audrey The most crucial thing is to be happy and to enjoy your life. All that matters is that.

Dari Lama Being happy is what our lives are all about.

Gilbert, Elizabeth Accept yourself as the beautiful mess you are.

Ingrid Pulitzer Having a good time is always in style. The greatest cosmetics are those by Drew Barrymore.

Princess Markle Take everything in stride and relish every moment.

Dickinson, Emily The delight of life itself suffices.

Silverado Hawn Being content with who you are is the only thing that can bring you happiness.

Unknown Joy comes in bursts. You'll run across it again.

Tolstoy, Leo Be happy if that's what you desire.

Unknown Every day should begin with gratitude.

Unknown Letting go of how you believe your life should be is the path to happiness.

Mother Teresa told people to "spread love everywhere." No one should ever visit without also departing happier.

Unknown Look for rainbows when it rains. Look for stars while it is dark.

Dahl, Roald If you think positively, they will radiate from your face like sunbeams, making you appear attractive at all times.

Nelson Gandhi When your thoughts, words, and deeds are in accord, you are happy.

Lee Roth, David Although money can't buy happiness, it can buy you a yacht large enough to dock right next to it.

Barrymore, John Happiness frequently enters via a door you weren't aware you had left unlocked.

Carroll Walker Don't hold out for congratulations from others. Any happiness you experience, you must create for yourself.

Henry Ward Beecher The secret to pleasure is the ability to get joy from everyday objects.

#Youtube

[maiverie]

triage — ft. lee heeseung (chapter II)

you try to teach the nerd how to date.

synopsis: heeseung is not, by any measure, date-able. he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, and he does this weird thing where he snorts loudly every time he laughs. in fact, he loves everything that normal people are allergic to — computer science, collecting rare comic books, and birdwatching on the weekend.

given that you two have obviously nothing in common, you find yourself utterly flabbergasted when you receive a letter in your locker, on which heeseung has written, "hi. will you please teach me how to date?"

MASTERLIST HERE !

kayla’s playlist (@/miiiwaa) ♡ my shitty og playlist . tags : #.*triage .

TAGLIST

@jaeyummies @enhyflirt @kyleeanne @icedcoffeesunwoo @ssolari @skazoo @jjunis @heejake-en @koroktsuya @jeongwins @tinykoi-s @en-boyz @soobin-chois @blessed-sky @jhyunieee @kisswon @vbxrin @cosmicsunghoon @bloomedberry @jungwonielove @miiiwaa @jungwoniee @lhsng @missharubear @deonuism @sarahxy537 @bambisgirl @hrrhmay-primaryblog @yeonzzun @msxflower @sunsunu @acciomylove @sweetjaemss @seungstarss @tokyoflies @solelyenha @softforqiankun @goodforgyu @va1ry @taekbokki @luvishee @jalnandanz @person-standing @kissomen @auulraual @sonjuyeonnie @yunhowooyo @tomorrowbymoa-together @markleeisdabestdrug @aizzon @sosoa @seventeeneration @ashrocker123

chapter two

word count: 4.6k | navigation: previous / next / MASTERLIST warnings: swearing, (verbal) bullying

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎

detention.

you had both landed detention.

when you and heeseung had returned to mr lee’s classroom, it was the obvious punishment your teacher had to impose — heeseung’s crime was randomly abandoning class to confess his undying adoration for lia, and your crime was taking way too long to “search” for heeseung.

alas, your teacher was livid the instant you two had attempted to walk through the door.

as per your usual style, you were insistent on lying your way out of the punishment. you wanted to concoct some sort of elaborate (but totally believable) story about why it had taken you so long to bring heeseung back to class.

you had already brainstormed several fibs. “heeseung had broken his arm and was at the nurse’s office the entire time” was the first thing that popped into your mind, until heeseung mentioned that there would be no documentation of him ever being there if nurse kim was asked.

so, you thought you could say that “heeseung dropped and stepped on his glasses and literally couldn’t see his way around the school and had to crawl around like a dog”, but heeseung almost wept at the thought of you having to break his glasses to show real proof.

then, there was the story that “heeseung shat his pants and was too embarrassed to return back to class in fear that people would choke on the smell of his poop”, but heeseung had given you such a dark look that you thought his soul had left his body.

ultimately, heeseung and his dumb ass belief that “honesty is the best policy” triumphed, effectively forcing you to spend your afternoon perishing in detention.

“i told you!” you hiss viciously through gritted teeth, “i told you we should’ve just lied!”

with no intention to conceal your resentment, you glare at heeseung from across the vacant classroom. when his eyes meet your furious scowl, he squeaks in fright before quickly lowering his head to fervently scrub the desks.

tsk.

this annoyingly angelic goody-two-shoes isn’t even going to look at you?

stamping your lips into an unimpressed line, you dunk the mop into the bucket of water before fishing it back out again. ugh. being forced to clean the classrooms after school must be a crime — there’s no way this can’t be considered child labour.

though you’re no stranger to detention (in fact, you’ve been put on behavioural probation numerous times now), something about having to sacrifice a few hours of today’s afternoon is particularly annoying. perhaps it’s because you’re still exhausted from last night’s partying, and scrubbing away the classroom floors during detention is the last thing you want to do.

slapping the wet mop back onto the floor, you huff loudly before proceeding to polish it. five minutes pass as you return darkened stains and greyed flecks to their usual pristine condition, before you hear shuffling from across the room.

you try not to heed heeseung and his noises, until suddenly you feel somebody gently grab your mop.

it’s heeseung.

it’s heeseung that has a fist around the length of your mop, just above where your hands lie.

“what—” you snap your head up, gaping at him while he avoids your gaze.

“i-i’ll do it.” he mutters shyly, seemingly intimidated by your stare.

you straighten your back, narrowing your eyes at him. “what?”

“i-i said i’ll do it.” he repeats in a soft whisper, slowly peeling your fingers off the length of the mop. you watch with utter bewilderment as the boy turns away from you, now mopping the floor in your stead. he makes quiet, careful movements to manoeuvre into the corners of the desk legs, no further complaints to be heard.

“why? was i doing it wrong?” you frown, watching as heeseung does your job for you. he must be some sort of perfectionist, you guess.

“n-no!” he quickly shakes his head, glancing at you briskly. “u-um, you just… you looked… tired.”

oh.

your frown quickly dissipates while you stare at him blankly. he was watching you? he noticed you were tired? something about his close observation of you is somewhat touching, though you stifle down any burgeoning emotions with a clear of the throat.

“thanks.” you tell him awkwardly, rubbing the nape of your neck.

“no, it’s my fault we’re in detention after all.” heeseung mumbles. “s-sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

“stop apologising.” you brusquely interrupt. this must be the umpteenth time that you’ve reminded him of this today, though this apology doesn’t feel quite as infuriating. “i thought i told you to stop doing that.”

“r-right.” heeseung nods once, flashing you a soft, timid smile. “thanks for the reminder.”

you’re frozen, stunned by the sight of another pretty smile of his, allowing it to completely  dissolve any last speckle of your annoyance. forcefully brushing away your thoughts, you contort your lips into a contrived frown and watch as heeseung continues to clean the floor for you.

he’s a lot nicer than the people you know, isn’t he?

if you and ryujin had been sent to detention together, she would have slept at the back and forced you to do all the work. and if it had been taehyun, he wouldn’t have even showed up in the first place.

heeseung is far removed from the type of personalities that you’re frequently acquainted with, and truthfully speaking, it’s a little disconcerting. how can somebody be so nice? at times, you wonder if he’s faking his entire persona; until you realise you’re just a bitter pessimist, though you like to think that you’ve encountered far too many dishonest people to not be engineered to think this way.

it’s the circle of life.

“nice people” get chewed up and spat out like gum all the time. it’s nature — in fact, you should totally leave heeseung to clean the rest of the classroom so you can go home and take a nap.

though you try to convince yourself this, guilt begins to sprout inside your chest as you watch heeseung diligently complete your task. technically, it’s not exactly his fault that you’re in detention. since it was his first offence, mr lee was actually willing to let heeseung off with a warning.

it was you and your extensive history for breaking the rules that landed you with a punishment, and it was heeseung that had willingly insisted on doing detention with you so you wouldn’t have to clean the classroom alone.

damn it.

you feel bad.

sighing, you allow the conscience you didn’t even know you had to control your next actions — you shuffle toward heeseung and snatch the mop from him.

damn it. why are you doing this?

surprised by your action, heeseung looks up at you with a rapid blink. you roll your eyes, poking your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “i’ll do it. just clean the tables or something.” you grumble, gently shoving him away with your shoulder.

“i-it’s okay, i can—”

“it’s fine.”

heeseung vehemently shakes his head. “n-no, you’ll hurt your back! i can—”

“i said move, dweeb!”

by the time you and heeseung have finished, the classrooms are so clean that they could be used to perform a surgery. however, you’ve reached an hour so late into the afternoon that the sun has begun to set.

you both stand at the front entrance of your high school, accompanied by the ephemeral blend of a golden sunset adorning the sky. amidst the flush of soft, autumnal hues, you briefly glance over at heeseung, noticing the way he goggles in wonder by the sight. he even rummages through his backpack for his phone to capture a picture of the sky.

what a kid, you think, wondering how many sunsets you’ve seen in your life.

they’re frankly unspecial and common to you, but heeseung seems to appreciate it — and the reverse appears to also be true, given that the sunset illuminates all his best features and kisses his skin with a gentle radiance.

you stare at the gleam along the bridge of his nose and the soft flutter of his eyelashes. when he turns to you and smiles, you notice the way his mousy eyes glow like russet pearls.

“you act like you’ve never seen a sunset in your life,” you comment.

he grins proudly. “they’re just so pretty.” heeseung gushes, turning his phone toward you so you can observe the picture he’s taken. “don’t you think?”

hm. not a bad photo. “yeah, whatever.” you shrug, “they’re aight.”

heeseung pouts at your nonchalant response, admiring his phone’s screen briefly before tucking it away.

“what’s even the point of taking a photo?” you tease him with a lifted brow. “you can literally just wake up tomorrow and see it again. and the day after. and the day after.”

“i like taking pretty photos,” he answers with a soft beam, allowing the excitement to reach his eyes. “to keep them. you never know; one day you might wake up and find that the sun’s gone… and then it’s like, poof — no more sunsets.”

poof — no more sunsets?

jeez, for a guy so certifiably intelligent, he sounds real fucking dumb.

“tell me you’re a loser without telling me you’re a loser.” you remark sarcastically.

heeseung pouts again, tempting you with the urge to reach over and softly pinch one of his cheeks.

“i’m not a loser,” he whines. “you know, my mom appreciates them. i show them to her all the time.”

mom?

“oh god,” you groan loudly. he obviously doesn’t need birth control or other forms of contraception when his mouth does all the work. “stop speaking. please.”

“what?” he blinks cluelessly, seemingly perplexed by your reaction. “she’s my best friend. we… we play pokemon go and paint each other’s toenails on the weekends together.”

oh. sweet. lord.

“dude, gross!” you throw your head back and project your groan into the sky. “everything about that sentence is gross! and i literally just scraped old gum off taehyun’s desk!”

fuck.

how the hell are you supposed to turn this dorky weirdo into a date-able human being?

he’s not even a real person.

you’re convinced he’s some sort of sick human experiment.

“you know what?” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “i was going to wait until tomorrow, but i honestly think we need all the time we can get.”

in the medical field, triage is the process of categorising patients by level of priority. in this case, heeseung takes the utmost precedence — he’s the patient who needs the most medical attention; the boy who needs the most help. you’re never one to ever be self-sacrificing, but when you triage through your current responsibilities, this boy’s anticipated glow-up is at the top of your list.

it’s honestly painful watching him.

“t-time?” heeseung blinks. “what do you mean?”

“it means i’m coming over to yours.” you turn to him, planting both your hands on his shoulders.

“and i’m going to teach you the first lesson in how to be date-able.”

HOW TO DATE — LESSON 1 : if you look cute, 50% of the things you say don’t sound quite as dumb.

the first glance you take inside heeseung’s closet almost makes you stagger back in shock.

“heeseung,” your eyes bulge out your sockets while your jaw sweeps the carpeted floor. “what the hell is this? how many fucking bowties do you need to own?”

hundreds. there must be hundreds. all you see is a massive basket filled to the brim with them.

this isn’t just a collection — it’s a fucking addiction.

it’s the kind of addiction in which he requires an intervention — asap. he needs a couple of his close friends and family members gathered in the living room, exchanging heartfelt stories about how his obviously debilitating fixation on collecting ugly bowties affects all their lives. he needs his dearest friends to beg him to stop this insane addiction.

“what do you mean?” heeseung shuffles beside you, placing his hands on his hips as he cocks his head to the side. “you don’t like them? i… i think they look pretty good on me.” he tries to beam enthusiastically. he even puts in the effort to reach over and grab a small red bowtie with a white polka-dot pattern, holding it just between his collar bones. “see?” he coyly smiles.

“oh god, i don’t think i’m ever not going to see that.” you gape at the absurd situation. seriously, this is sick. this is so wrong and sick.

that’s when heeseung pouts before grabbing another one — this time, baby pink in colour — and holds it just between your collar bones.

“hey!” heeseung’s eyes twinkle when he smiles. “you look good in one, too!”

“stop it!” you half-whine and half-laugh, groaning as you shake your head. heeseung stifles a giggle before returning both his beloved bowties into his basket. the basket of sins, you’ve decided to call it.

“okay, moving on.” you squint, angling your neck as you attempt to browse what other sins he has stowed in his closet. “let’s say someone asks you out on a date, what’s your go-to outfit?”

“um…” heeseung hums, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “i-i don’t know… i’ve never been on a date before.”

“never?” you snap your head at him, gaping. “like, ever?”

“n-never.” he stares back with a small pout. “i-is that weird?”

you blink rapidly. you’ve probably been on the same number of dates as heeseung’s estimated IQ. “of course not,” you quickly reassure him, twirling back toward his closet. “that’s a good thing. we can start from scratch. i’ll give you a few pointers; you know, i’m the best at dates.”

“o-oh… are you really?” you feel his heavy stare as you lean forward and rifle through the various clothing items he has hung up on the clothing rack.

“hell yeah.” you answer, squinting at his clothes. oh god, it’s just an endless number of t-shirts with cartoon characters on them. you make a mental note to take him shopping next time. well, at least he has cute shoes?

“it’s all about first impressions,” you explain. “but to be honest, if you look cute, fifty percent of the things you say don’t sound quite as dumb, which is why i’m looking through your closet.”

“cute?” he mutters, “o-oh, i see. n-no wonder you’re the best…”

“i swear, when it comes to looking cute, boys just need to change their hairstyle and clothes. it’s really as simple as that.” you say, and it’s the truth; some boys really do be rocking up to school with the ugliest haircut you’ve ever seen and you suddenly feel all your initial attraction melt away like snow in the sun.

“r-really?” heeseung squeaks with surprise.

“yeah.” you nod, thinking about this from an analytical standpoint. “you shouldn’t be too worried, though. your face is really cute. you’ve got really pretty eyes and a cute nose. i like your hair, too. so all we really need to do is fix your fashion. by the way, what do you usually wear?”

you wait for his answer, only to find silence on the other end.

huh?

you turn around in confusion, only to see heeseung staring at you with an unexplainable expression. his face is incredibly red, almost like he’s blushing with the entire surface area of his face. your eyes circle in surprise, eyes bouncing between the scarlet shade of his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

subject.

you need to change the subject.

“u-um, this is really cute, by the way.” you say, flustered by heeseung’s reaction. hastily, you yank out one of his hoodies and hold it against your own body.

“i like this,” you plaster a smile on your face, though it quickly dissolves into a more genuine expression as you begin to explain why. “it’s cute. the blue is really nice, and the yellow text really pops, too. hoodies probably aren’t the best choice for a first date, but if you really like the girl, and you’ve hung out with her a few times, i think it’s a really great choice!”

he stares at you for a moment’s passing.

your eyes meet, while silence seeps between the seconds.

why is he staring at you like that?

“h-heeseung?” you blink, feeling the beat of your heart begin to echo in your chest.

“hm?” he absentmindedly mumbles, staring at you.

“uh… what do you think?” you nudge him with the hoodie.

“huh? wha– o-oh...” heeseung appears to snap into focus now, eyeing the hoodie carefully. “um… my mom bought me that. i-i like it... i think.”

you gently smile. “cool! then let’s donate literally everything else to goodwill.”

this is almost like playing real-life sims, but better.

in this case, you’re the omniscient god — you’re the divine-like puppet master that gets to determine what he wears, how he talks, and even what kind of personality he projects.

this experience has been a thrilling, nostalgic adventure back into your childhood. it’s a blast from the past because you’ve been propelled back into your favourite childhood game — dress-up. except this time, your barbie doll is lee heeseung — and truthfully speaking, you’re having way too much fun with this.

the two of you are seated cross-legged on his bed now (no comment on his iron man bed sheets), facing each other. you’ve successfully filtered through his closet and lectured him on the importance of choosing matching or complementary colours when it comes to choosing an outfit.

“okay, next thing — get rid of those glasses.”

heeseung pouts. “but… if i take them off, then i can’t see.”

“good,” you grin sarcastically. “then you won’t be able to see how ugly those glasses are.”

his frown sinks deeper into his face.

you sigh, reaching over and removing the glasses for him. he flinches at your touch, but once you remove the glasses and give him a few seconds to adjust to his new sight, you gasp with delight.

“heeseung, you look so good!” you laugh, reaching over and brushing back his hair to reveal more of his features. he blushes and dips his head in slight embarrassment, but you tuck your fingers beneath his chin and raise his head.

he does.

he really does look good.

it’s not that his glasses are ugly. it’s just that he uses them as an excuse to conceal his best feature — his eyes.

when you had called his eyes pretty earlier, you had really meant it. heeseung’s eyes are unlike anything you’ve ever seen — just when you thought you found cat-like eyes the most attractive, there is something ridiculously enchanting about his round, bambi eyes. they sparkle. they glint like hidden glitter beneath light.

“i-i look stupid.” heeseung lowers his head again and bites his bottom lip. “i-i can’t see.”

“well, i can see and i think you look great.” you scoff, gently whacking his head.

“you’re just being nice.”

“i’m not.” you say adamantly. “haven’t you met me? dude, i’m literally the biggest bitch in the school; i have no reason to be nice. i’m serious, heeseung, you look great. you should try to invest in some contact lenses or something. your eyes are so pretty.”

“y-you think?”

“for sure.”

he pauses. “th-thank you so much,” he mutters, finally succumbing to your compliments. you chuckle at his reaction, handing his glasses back.

“anyway, it’s getting late.” you sigh, glancing at your phone. “i should probably go home soon.”

heeseung slips his glasses back onto his face with ease, brushing his hair back so that they cascade down his forehead. “a-ah, i’ll drive you home!”

“it’s okay,” you shake your head. “taehyun’s picking me up.”

heeseung’s eyes widen slightly in realisation before he casts his gaze to the side.

“oh.” his shoulders slump. “right. taehyun.”

.

.

.

taehyun announces his arrival with a simple text message: ‘come out’, you read on your screen, before tucking it away inside your pocket.

“he’s here,” you bounce off heeseung’s couch, lifting yourself to your feet as you stretch your body.

“ah,” heeseung follows suit, shutting off the game console. “i’ll walk you to the door.”

you stifle a laugh, wondering what the need was for him to accompany you with just a few steps. however, you’ve surprisingly enjoyed his company a lot — taehyun had expectedly arrived much later than he’d promised, allowing heeseung to show you how to play super smash bros on the nintendo switch.

you’ve never really been the type to care much about video games, and yet heeseung had been incredibly patient in teaching you. he’s too nice for his own good, which you know because he was obviously pretending to fumble at a game you know he’s obviously very experienced in, and even let you win most games.

“hey, thanks for having me over,” you smile, slipping your handbag through your arm while your feet sink into your shoes. “maybe next time, i’ll get to meet your best friend.”

heeseung slowly bats his eyelashes in another confused expression.

“your mom?” you scoff with a short laugh, earning an instant smile from the boy.

“o-of course.” he cutely grins, “i bet she’d like you.”

“probably not,” you fasten your shoes around the back of your heels. “i’m not very parent-friendly.” you don’t think you can clearly recall the last time you had met a friend’s parents — other than taehyun and ryujin, you don’t often go to other people’s houses; you very much prefer existing in your own space.

“d-do you want me to walk you to the car?”

“nah, it’s okay.” you wink at him. “taehyun’ll probably flip shit if he finds out my friend”—you do little air-bunnies with your fingers—“is actually you.”

you’re not exactly dating taehyun (yuck, god forbid you’re ever tied down to another person), but you know the guy too well to not anticipate every toxic behaviour he has under his belt. you? hang out with another guy? taehyun would rage. it’s not really that you’re attempting to tiptoe around the guy — he just didn’t ask who you were hanging out with, so you didn’t really care to tell him.

heeseung’s eyes flicker toward the ground. “i-i see.” his head bobs gently. “well… safe trip home.”

while you’re ready to leave, you notice your hand merely hovers over his door knob. sensing your own hesitation, you turn around and glance at heeseung.

“i feel like i’m missing something.” you tell him, squinting.

“nope.” heeseung shakes his head furiously. “i made sure all your belongings were put back into your handbag.”

you stifle a laugh. “gee, thanks.”

“b-by the way…” heeseung awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “um… y-you didn’t tell anybody about the letter, right?”

of course, the letter — the very reason you’re here in the first place. the one heeseung had written to you in a desperate plight to get a girl. to get ryujin. oh god, the thought of heeseung and ryujin makes you want to shudder.

“no, why?”

he flashes you a relieved smile. “i-i don’t know, i just thought… nevermind.”

“what is it?” you frown, facing him completely. “just tell me.”

“i just… thought maybe you and your friends would make fun of me for it. taehyun… doesn’t seem to really like me. i-it’s okay if you don’t want to help if you’re… embarrassed.”

that’s when your smile falters.

embarrassed?

why would you be embarrassed?

‘nah, it’s okay.’ you wink at him. ‘taehyun’ll probably flip shit if he finds out my friend’—you do little air-bunnies with your fingers—‘is actually you.’

“oh my god,” you quickly shake your head, recalling your earlier words. “heeseung, i didn’t mean you as in you,” you say, horrified by the implication, “i just meant like, since you’re a guy and all. he just gets jealous easily. don’t worry about it, heeseung. you’re not embarrassing; i’m not embarrassed. i had fun today. i really did.”

“you did?” heeseung’s face lights up. “so did i!”

“cool,” you say. “then we’re on the same page. see you at school, yeah?”

he blushes. “y-yeah, see you at school.”

if there’s any method through which students at your school like to segregate by social hierarchy, it’s the seating in the dining hall. you’re obviously at the cool table, though really that means you’re surrounded by a bunch of pricks. most of them, like taehyun, belong to the school’s athletic teams. you’re the exception, though, because you don’t really indulge in any extracurriculars.

“dude, lunch today tastes like literal ass.” jongseong groans, ungratefully stabbing his fork into his food.

“oh yeah, you’d know exactly what ass tastes like, wouldn’t you?” yeonjun snickers, earning him a quick smack from the former.

“shut the fuck up and get a girlfriend.” jongseong sneers. “the only ass you’re getting is what you see in your reflection.”

“weak comeback, dude. try again.” yeonjun snorts, though jongseong retorts by tossing various colourful insults in the air.

amidst the bickering between the two, you feel a slight nudge against your arm. toward your right, you face ryujin, who innocently bats her eyelashes at you.

“eat my veggies, please.” she smiles, shoving her food tray toward you. you scowl at her request, lifting your palm in a threat to hit her.

“get lost.”

she pouts. “but… you’re my trash can. you’re supposed to eat what i can’t finish.”

scoffing, you prop your elbow on the table and allow your cheek to sink into your palm. “bro, you’re giving me a headache, shut the hell up.”

“jeez, what’s with you? are you tired or something?”

“leave me alone.”

“oh, right.” ryujin straightens in her seat, eagerly clutching onto your arm. “are you mad at me ‘cause i ditched you yesterday? you had detention! what was i supposed to do? wait for you?”

she’s so loud. ryujin is just so damn loud.

“speaking of, how was detention? did that four-eyed dweeb try to talk to you or something?”

your lips instantly sink into a frown at her mention of heeseung.

“wait, what? you had detention yesterday?” taehyun kicks your leg from under the table. he’s seated right across from you, so you snap your head up and glare at him.

“yeah, she did.” ryujin snorts, humoured by what she considers an ill situation. “but worse, she had it with the headmaster's little minion. you know, lee heeseung.”

“oh, heeseung?" taehyun snickers, causing your fists to ball up beside you. “that dude? bro, i swear that guy is a new breed of human. probably virgin as fuck.”

heeseung was right.

he was so fucking right.

‘i just thought maybe you and your friends would make fun of me for it.’

maybe he knows your friends better than you do.

taehyun and ryujin’s comments only begin to pile, while input from the entire table begins to flood in.

“wait, who even is that?”

“i don’t know. some irrelevant dude, i guess.”

your nails pierce the skin of your palms.

“wait, heeseung? lee heeseung? bro, that guy literally does all my homework.”

“oh god, poor him.”

“are you kidding me? guys like that are so good. you can literally just push them around and make them do whatever you want—”

“shut the fuck up!” you snap, suddenly rising to your feet. your friends jump in surprise, though you quickly snatch your handbag and scoff at them before storming off. “you guys are a bunch of loud-mouthed morons. fucking losers.”

.

.

.

exactly twenty-four hours ago, you and heeseung had been standing at the school’s entrance, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sunset. you had truthfully been admiring heeseung’s rather pretty features, while he had been staring at something he also considered pretty.

and now here you are — home, lying on your bed, in which the only sunset you have is the ceiling light you’re staring up at.

heeseung’s words echo in your mind.

you didn’t tell anybody about the letter, right?

you didn’t.

but perhaps you should mention that ryujin knows about it.

upon recalling everything your friends had spoken about heeseung, you find your lips sink into a frown. guilt pricks your heart torturously, even though you know you hadn’t participated in their bullying. you’ve never loved your friends, but something about identifying yourself with them knowing how horrible they are feels equally as terrible.

like some sort of divine timing, you feel a buzz in your pocket. you quickly fish your phone out of your skirt’s pocket before realising it’s a text from heeseung.

an image.

he’s sent you an image.

it’s a picture of today’s sunset.

‘so pretty and warm, right?’ he writes. ‘kinda reminded me of you.’

pretty.

warm.

reminded him of you.

you feel your lips twitch into a smile.

it’s ironic, because most people seem to think you’re quite a cold person. most people don’t compare you to the warmth of an afternoon sunset; most people don’t walk you to the door even if it’s just a few footsteps; most people don’t pretend to lose at video games just to make you happy.

yet here heeseung is, showing you that he is a lot nicer than most people you know.

see?

50% of the things he says don’t sound quite as dumb anymore.

it’s working.

‘thanks.’ you text back. ‘by the way...’

you think of what your friends had said about him.

you know what? fuck them.

fuck.

them.

‘i'm going to show you how to date. for real. you can get any girl you want and all the guys are going to fucking hate you.’

you watch as the text bubble from heeseung begins to appear.

and then it disappears.

and then another text appears.

‘okay, miss sunset! ^_^’

you smile.

how.

fucking.

precious.

//

to be continued.

*taglist is open, just comment or send an ask :>

a/n: HALLOOOO welcome to triage chap 2 and thank u sm for readinggg :>> hope it was okay! i realise by tumblr standards that my chapters r hella long so i actually applaud you for reading this entire thing 😭 ill try make chapters a lil shorter ;-; but!!!! thank you so much for tuning in!!!! hope u enjoyed this chapter ehehe <3 actually, before i moved schools i used to feel like the loser people used to snicker at so it kinda made me feel sad for heeseung in this chapter,,, ltrly forced me to relive the fact that i used to eat lunch in the toilets bc i was scared for people to see me have no friends lmfaoo 😭 but uh a mega glow-up for hee is coming up guys... 👀 fuck taehyun! fuck ryujin! fuck all of y/n’s dumb ass friends! anyway thank u sm for reading !! pls do share ur love & support via liking + reblogging if u can &lt;333

#ficscafe #enhypennetwork #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fic #heeseung imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #heeseung scenarios #heeseung fluff #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #lee heeseung imagine #heeseung drabbles #enhypen heeseung x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfic #heeseung fic #heeseung fanfic #lee heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung au #heeseung fanfiction #heeseung au #heeseung enhypen #lee heeseung edit #enhypen headcanons #heeseung headcanons #.*triage

[writersblockedx]

Love for Dummies, Part Three

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Reader Summary - When Fred doesn't turn up to lessons, McGonagall goes questioning the reader. It sends her searching for reasons as to why. Warnings - Drug use, mentions of insomnia Words - 2.1K

PART ONE PART TWO PART FOUR PART FIVE

Monday, 09:23 Period one

You sat in potions, alone unsurprisingly, jotting down the notes of which Snape had written across the chalk board. This morning, you learnt from your lesson, not waiting from Fred. Some of which was choosing to be a good decision as, almost already half way through, the boy had yet to even show his face. After that scene at the party, you hadn't seen his face. Not that you had been wanting to; it had just led you to question as to what might have happened to make him absent.

Still, you pushed it to the back of your mind. If he really wanted to (which you doubted he did) you'd let him copy the notes from your book.

Though it seemed that morning things weren't going to be made so easy for you. Not that any mornings of late were easy. The door to the potions classroom creaked open and McGonagall stumbled in, her glasses rested low on her nose bridge as she scoured the classroom. "If I can borrow Miss Y/l/n please." She informed to Snape.

A few eyes shot over to you as you swallowed, awkwardly gathering yourself from the desk and walking towards McGonagall. "Thank you." The lady flashed a smile before leaving the classroom with you lingering behind her. She made sure to shut the potions door, not lurking far before turning to you, a glare starring you down. "Well?"

It was as if she assumed you knew as to what she was referring to. "Well, what?" You reiterated, unsure of your own words.

The women huffed as she always did, "Weasley." Of course this was linked to Fred. What in your life wasn't link to the red head anymore? "Where is he?"

You had shrugged, "I'm not sure. I assumed he was sick."

"Sick?" McGonagall had repeated, more to herself than back to you. "That's news to me as the boy wasn't with Mrs Pomfrey." You could only stare back at the women that you were sure of which knew more than you happened to. "As his tutor, I see it fit for you to go find him and work out what's wrong. Whether that's now, after your lessons or at the weekend. I don't care when, I just want that Weasley boy in his lessons."

The professor was about to leave it there had it not been for your objection. "Professor," You called, urging her back, "Respectfully I'm only his tutor, I don't find it my place to nose my way into his personal life." You were almost certain that, even if you did ask, Fred would tell you nothing.

McGonagall settled in her footing as she smile ever so weakly your way. "If he can't make it out of bed, then you can't tutor him." She argued.

You debated over what to say next, whether to even say it. But something inside of you urged you on, told you, if not now, you'd only be dragging yourself from this tutoring for longing than you wanted. "The boy is-" You cut yourself off for a second, collecting your thoughts. "Fred doesn't want my help. He's made that very obvious. I personally feel as though maybe I wouldn't be the best person to tutor him. Maybe he'd be better with his brother or Lee even." You suggested with a very much forced smile in an attempt to sweeten your words.

"You've seen how them boys are. Together, they could barely string thoughts into sentences." The women commented which, now you thought over it, was very much truth. "I know he may be a challenge at times-" That was putting it nicely. "-But he needs this." Still, McGonagall was looking back at your blank, unconvinced expression. "Let's not forget about that Outstanding, no?"

Oh you had not forgotten, you just weren't so sure it was worth it anymore. "I really think it would be better for both me and Weasley if we stopped this." Outstanding grade included.

McGonagall paused for a moment, her voice coming out low as she spoke her final thoughts on the matter. "Give it this week. I urge you to figure out what is keeping him from attending lessons. And maybe it'll get easier." She advised. And when you said nothing in return, she added, "You never know, you might be the one to break him."

You doubted that.

Monday, 3:09pm

As the final bell for the day rung, you joined in the mass of students which hurried back to the dorms and common rooms. You lingered in the Gryffindor common room for a minute or two, trying to catch Fred. As each second past, you made the note that he wasn't here. Which left one other option you were aware of: his dorm.

A place of which was much more personal and private. A place of which you didn't really want to walk in on at the wrong time. God only knew what that boy got up to in there.

Still, with nothing else to go off, you made your way towards the boy's dorm. You stood outside the door, the wood only staring back at you. Swallowing, you raised your hand and clicked your knuckles gently and waited. Harsh whispers were spouted out on the other end, though nothing you were able to make out. You could only assume it was Fred and either George or Lee.

With a few 'Shut up!' and rushed 'Alright alright!' heard, the door finally creaked open and, who you believed to be, George flashed a smirk. Though he made sure the door leant on his body as to not show what was hiding in their dorm room. "Y/n? What can I do for you?" He smiled ever so smugly as to hide the fear which resided in his expression.

Though, you were never given a chance to answer. "Y/n?" Someone else reiterated from behind the door - Fred. He shuffled from his place, shoving himself in view as the door opened just a little more. "Jesus, what are you doing here?" He had nagged.

"You weren't in class, McGonagall asked to me to go find out what was up." You explained.

Fred couldn't help but scoff at your words. He leaned in just slightly, one hand gripped against the door as for it to not slide open anymore. "You do know that you don't have to do everything that McGonagall tells you to."

"I'm not doing it for McGonagall." You had returned. God, if you had been doing it for McGonagall you wouldn't have been doing it for all this time.

That seemed to prompt a forceful smirk at his expression, similarly to the one George had flashed you when he first opened the door. "Aw, doing all this for me now are you, Princess?"

You seemed to scoff louder than he had. "Definitely not." You quirked. "But you don't seem sick, so I take that as my time to leave before reminding you to actually get out of bed tomorrow and get to class." You paused, leaning in just a little to add, "For my sake."

Not that you had any expectations that Fred was actually going to do anything for you. "I don't make promises."

Your eyes narrowed just slightly as you thought your next move out. As you figured out before, it was as if you and Fred were in the midst of a game. Every interaction you had was a move. And with every move which seemed to sting at the other's gut, was a move closer to winning. So, in reminder of that, you kicked your boot at the door, forceful enough to loosen from Fred's grip as it swung open.

You first noticed Lee Jordan. He sat cross legged on Fred's bed, a badly rolled joint sitting in his palms, wrappings and other spices surrounding the bed. "Shit." George had swore under his breath as his eyes jumped between you and Lee's expression which could only be related to a child who'd just been caught stealing candy.

"So this is what you've been doing all day? Rolling blunts?" You had interrogated as you stared back at the Fred.

"And selling them." Lee added, earning him a deep glare from both of the twins.

Fred chewed at his jaw as he glanced back over at you. "You know, if you really looked into it, smoking provides some positive health benefits." The boy rushed out, having no idea what else to say. It wasn't as if he could lie through the situation, the evidence was literally right in front of your eyes.

Your shook your head at them, making the comment of, "Jesus." Before turning and leaving the doorway of their dorm.

Fred fought at his mind before sighing and giving in as he pushed himself after you. "Y/n!" He called, enough to make you stop. "Please don't go telling anyone. It's really not what it looks like."

You raised a brow at him, you weren't sure how else that scene could have been interrupted. "Really? Because to me it seemed you didn't show up to class so you could sell weed." You responded to the boy, stern in your expression. "I don't care if you smoke or don't, but you can't let that be the reason you miss lessons. It's no wonder your grades are as bad as they are." God you could have sworn you were sounding exactly like Hermione.

Fred broke eye contact with you, swallowing the lump which had been growing in his throat. "That's- That's not why I wasn't in today." He paused, glancing up at your expression which did nothing to assure him. It never did. But still, he went on. "I didn't get any sleep. Like at all." He paused once more. "I've tried before to go to lessons after no sleep; turns out, not easy."

You seemed to nod your head, the anger settling as your mind connected the dots. "Which is what the weed is for?"

"Yeah. It was George's idea mainly." He explained. "I've had it a few times before. And within seconds I'm just...gone."

You tiled your head slightly in thought, "And he selling part?"

"That's all George and Lee." Fred told you with a smile ever so lightly urging at his lips as he went on. "I was just helping. God knows me and George could use a little money." He added.

It seemed, as you looked back up at Fred, for the first time it was no longer as if you were playing this game. As if he had just exposed himself to you, the person who seemed most likely to twist his words against him. Yet, as he looked back at you, he saw no intention of such. In fact, he dare say that sympathy stared back at him.

You titled on your feet a little as you looked to Fred, a smile painted at your lips. "You know maybe before I start trying to tutor you on potions and charms, it'd be helpful if I taught you some more-" You paused in debate of the right word, "-legal ways which can help with sleep."

The boy's smiled reflected your own as he nodded. "That sounds- It sounds better." Better seemed to be the word which popped first in Fred's head. He couldn't say yet whether he was going to like the idea, or whether it would turn into more of a drag than revising charms. But, what he did know was that he felt comforted in that fact you were accepting and that you were willing to help him. Not just help him with his grades and his terrible attitude to his education, but to help him with what was behind that. Just as McGonagall had planned.

"Better and legal and won't get you kicked out of school." You made sure to add.

In that moment, you might have believed this person to be a complete stranger. The Fred which stood in front of you was open, polite and, dare you say it, he was lovely. He grinned and spoke words which seemed kind rather than rude. While you questioned how long it would last for, you were glad that he had opened in a way.

You supposed McGonagall had been right; you had broke through the shell of Fred Weasley.

Tagslist - @rexorangecouny , @sukunas-cult-leader , @callmebyyourhoe , @calumhoodstinymochi , @chaoticscissorswagoncop , @aliceblxck​ , @bamboozledflamplant​

(Please let me know whether you would like to be added or removed)

#fred #fred weasley #fred wealsey imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fan fic #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter universe #hogwarts #hp #hp fanfic #hp imagine #hp x reader #hp fanfcition #fred weasley fanfic #weasley #weasley twins #george weasley #x reader #fanfic

[timextoxhajima]

Accelerate [Dana’s 600 Special]

Track: Feel It by Michele Morrone / Drunk-Dazed by ENHYPHEN / Insanity by THE BOYZ

Member: I swear he’s not even my bias

Genre: i-ion know-

Word Count: it’s pretty damn long so please don’t make me write a part two

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal​ @lsangyeons​

The first time you laid eyes on Lee Hyunjae, you were both in Italy as he was being blinded by a billion flashes in his face. The light reflects off his dark hair - which was once a brighter color - as he maintains that polite, miniscule smile on his face. Most of the photographers and interviewers were male, for the sole reason that female photographers and interviewers would be too stunned to continue at their job. 

Not that the males rushing to get a shot of his face or a string of words out from him now weren’t stunned themselves. 

Despite being hailed for looking like every woman’s wet dream, Lee Hyunjae was more known for being South Korea’s youngest first class F1 racer. Sure, if he ever bothered to utter a single syllable of speech to you, you could pass out on the spot. 

But right now, all you wanted was to get an exclusive modelling contract from Louis Vuitton to his manager. Not Lee Hyunjae, not his bodyguards, his manager.

“Lee Hyunjae! Do you have anything you want to say before your final race of the season? How do you feel about being so close to coming out top?”

His manager stands a step behind him to Hyunjae’s right, and gives the racer the green light to respond. The flashes and sounds of clicking from the cameras were so overwhelming, it’s impossible for you to even imagine how it felt like being in the spotlight.

But the celebrity couldn’t receive the question any less gracefully, and offers one of those swoon-worthy smiles before leaning into the microphone.

“I feel nervous but I’ve prepared for this. Consistency is key and I believe in myself, so if that answers your question...” 

“Do you have any other plan other than racing? Word has it that you’ve received offers to be the face of Gucci and Louis Vuitton!”

The contract in your briefcase is still ironed out safely in its file when you pull it behind your legs, away from plain sight.

Hyunjae turns to look at his manager when the question posed obviously isn’t one of those in the list prepared, so the manager steps forward, and coincidentally spots you at the back of the crowd. He recognises you from the meeting he had with your higher-up.

“My apologies but Mr Lee isn’t permitted to answer to any of these, so if this is all then we must be going. Thank you for coming to the conference tonight.” 

Lee Hyunjae and his manager step back away from the microphone and bow for the press to continue their aggressive, merciless snapshotting. You wait patiently for the duo to disappear behind the conference area, and for the press to switch their attention to the pictures they have on their camera before you make your round backstage. 

The 5-star hotel is grand in all the ways possible: chandelier, white wines and champagnes being served in waiting areas and water was served sparkling. Finally fishing out the tag that you were given at the registration for entry to the event, you hand it to the lady at the meetings’ conference registration counter.

You wonder how the Louis Vuitton logos on your clothes and briefcase had gone unnoticed earlier at the showcase. Even on the tag, the ‘LV’ logo was so apparent. How far does the company need to go in order for them to have the logo printed in some shiny, golden print on the tag-

“Welcome to the F1 internal press conference and meeting, Miss l/n!” She pulls a sticker off a page and presses it onto the tag below the LV logo. “If you need anything at all, please just approach one of our staffs. All waiters and staff concerned will have a red tie tonight.”

“Alright, thank you,” The tag gets slid across the table to you. “Where’s the nearest washroom?”

“Oh, she’ll show you the way,” The lady gestures behind her for one of the staff members with a red tie to accompany you. 

“Oh-” Slightly taken aback by the aggressive escorting, the younger female grins at you before holding out her arm in the direction of the washroom. “Thanks.”

The hotel’s grandeur only gets more and more apparent as your heels click through the hallways and corridors. For an event night, the hotel’s pretty desolate. Then again, the press conference happened outside where all the photographers and journalists were. The one you were here for was an internal press meeting, and last you checked, there were fewer than 10 names on that list. 

“I can find my way back to the main hall after,” The slight panic in your voice humors you when the staff member seemed ready to wait outside the washroom. “Thanks.”

She bows and takes her leave only after you enter the bathroom; you can tell from the sound of her shoes echoing down the corridor. The scent of lavender is so overwhelming, you could almost taste it. Walls of cream and silver strokes cut through the tiles, a vase made of bronze sits in the corner of the platform where the sinks were, filled with roses.

The crisp reflection of yourself stares down at you in the mirror; it’s one of the few times you were dressed in branded goods head to toe. None of the articles of clothing you were wearing right now, you owned. Usually, you’d be gaping in awe at how beautiful these places where - after all, you were in a five-star hotel in Italy. 

But no, after almost five years of working with Louis Vuitton as a brand ambassador and subsequently becoming an assistant model-scout has numbed your habit of wandering eyes. 

The LV briefcase gets set on a dry area of marble, your fingers automatically clutching the edges of the sink as the jewelry on your ears, neck and hands twinkle under the fluorescent lighting. The makeup looks close to perfect - because someone had done it for you. Your clothes and shoes fit right down to your skin - because they were tailored for you. 

You were more upset you couldn’t sell it off and donate the money over having actual ownership of these fabrics. 

News of the orphanage had reached you hours after you touched down in Italy, and your heart yearns to stop the ache that seeps through you. They had run out of funds to continue the orphanage, the kids already enrolled would be split and sent to other organizations instead. 

What you had once called your home was going to be non-existent in another years’ time. Those whom you called your teachers, mentors, parents... were going to be in places you were not familiar with. The children that you always bring back food, clothes and toys for were going to be separated into different cities and states. As if not having a family was not bad enough, the people you now called your family was going to be split apart. 

You hadn’t noticed your eyes were closed until you opened them, the weight of the makeup on your face urging you to rub your eyes and skin but the discipline written into your hands stop you from doing so. 

Standing back to fix your posture, your eyes land on the one garnish on your body that doesn’t belong to Louis Vuitton - the ring on your middle finger. A gold band that looked more like a wedding ring than anything else. 

It had the name of the orphanage engraved on the inner side, so it feels lighter on your hands than it would otherwise be. 

A deep breath expands your chest as you take your briefcase and step away from the sink, attention scrutinising yourself more than you actually would.

The corridors of the hotel collect you back into its wealth again, drawing the thickest line between the realities of people like you and those who enjoy the luxurious life. 

The racer’s manager was sitting at the end of the meeting table when you enter, and you immediately recognise half the list of names you had seen before. Gucci’s manager was here personally. Another racer and his manager were here too. Stefano Domenicali and Michael Masi were here. 

Why were they here? Their names weren’t on the list.

“Ah, Miss l/n!” Masi gets off his seat and holds out his hand. “Such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Honor on my part,” Reaching out a palm, you smile the most graceful smile you can find in the muscles of your face. 

“Can I get you a drink? We’re still waiting for Mr Lee before we begin our discussion on the collaboration.”

Collaboration?

“Pardon my ignorance but... I thought I was here for a sponsorship or a model-contract request for Mr Lee... I wasn’t expecting your attendance or... a collaboration.”

Domenicalli chuckles heartily at his seat as he whirls around to gesture to one of the staff members in the room. “Will you get her a Mojito?” 

Then he stands up and pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. “We’ve been looking for a company that’s willing to do a three-way partnership with us and Mr Lee’s agency. Right now, it’s boiled down to both Louis Vuitton and Gucci so... it depends on which contract Mr Lee’s agency is more interested in.”

“Oh... Um, if that’s the case then I’m not entirely sure if the contract I have with me right now is appropriate-”

“Oh, it’s not. LV has already told us you’d sell them better unscripted than if planned,” Masi leans forward and mutters away from your ear. “Don’t tell Gucci though. Their manager’s only here because they panicked.”

He pulls away and before he can say anything else, the door clicks open with a staff member pushing the door open for the star of the night. 

“My apologies,” He’s changed out of his formal suit and is in a more comfortable set of hoodie and baggy pants now. “Did I keep everybody waiting?”

“No, not at all!” Masi throws his hands up into the air and beckons you to meet Lee Hyunjae. “Might I introduce... Miss l/n from LV. She’ll be the one pitching the collaboration for LV today.”

Hyunjae’s eyes are wide and clear, despite his fringe covering his eyelids. “My pleasure,” He holds out his hand and you take it to shake, but he doesn’t stop there.

Lifting the back of your hand to his lips, the contact is soft and gentle on your skin. 

Your hairs stand against your will and goosebumps erupt all over your neck when he pulls away, eyes now locked with yours. Nobody else in the room bothers to provide a reaction - it’s like he’s done this before and it’s perfectly normal. 

The rest of the evening is spent listening to your own pitch, and Gucci’s, but you couldn’t really keep your head in the game when... all that was in Lee Hyunjae’s head was... you.

You’d be lying had you said you were comfortable with how much he was glancing at you across the table, obviously not listening to Gucci’s pitch at all. His manager was the one busy jotting down all kinds of things, almost like it was an act of dictation. But the racer’s eyes fail to leave you for any longer than five seconds, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that he wasn’t really paying attention to the pitch. 

Gucci’s pitch finally finishes, giving you some kind of escape because now his manager is pummeling him for not listening to the benefits provided as Gucci’s ambassador. The contract document from LV was sitting before you, very single term and condition now inapplicable because you had just pitched something that wasn’t in the instruction manual.

God help me not to get fired.

“Mr Lee has some to a decision,” Masi claps his hands together, earning the attention of everybody in the room. “The Formula One federation would like to officially welcome Lee Hyunjae as the brand ambassador in a stellar collaboration... with Gucci.”

The Gucci ambassador scout smiles with triumph as the room provides a round of applause, you included. 

“Thank you so much, Miss l/n, for coming down. Your pitch was nothing short of commendable and I will make sure your manager will hear of that, alright?” Masi and Domenicali take turns shaking your hand. In your peripheral vision, you watch the Gucci ambassador shake hands with both Lee Hyunjae and his manager. 

Masi and Domenicali finish up with you, and Lee Hyunjae’s manager approaches you for the handshake with his client behind him. “That was a stellar... impromptu pitch, Miss l/n.”

A gentle chuckle rolls off your tongue as you pull your hand away, tightly clutching the briefcase. “I work better when things aren’t planned, so...”

“We’ll... we’ll keep in touch, LV. You’re an excellent scout with marvelous presentation skills. It makes me sad Mr Lee didn’t choose you.”

Your eyes drift to Hyunjae’s and he’s already looking at you like he hadn’t eaten in three days and you were a bowl of soup.

“Of course we’ll keep in touch. He’ll still be valuable asset and ambassador after his contract with Gucci ends,” Ignoring him, you return your attention to his manager. 

“Now, let’s hope the Prince of Korea doesn’t screw anything up, yeah?” His manager grins as he pats Hyunjae on the back. “Anyway, it’s been a mighty pleasure. We’ll be in touch.”

You lower your head as a small nod, turning on your heels to exit the room. Even then you can feel his eyes on your back. 

By the time you’re back in your hotel room (which was in the same hotel as you had the internal meeting), your feet are half dead from the heels you were wearing and the makeup on your face was starting to wear off. It took a nice, warm bath and a rather long conversation with your own manager on the phone as he congratulated on pulling through an impromptu pitch. 

He finally finishes, and you drop your phone into the towel by the bathtub as the steam fogs up the mirror. But your peace is cut short when someone rings the doorbell of your room. 

“Room service for Miss l/n!”

Tightening the robe around your waist, you pull open the door and watch the hotel staff hold out a bottle of wine and an envelop. “Mr Lee Hyunjae sends his regards, Miss.”

Surprised, you receive the bottle. The hotel staff bows and leaves, letting you turn around and the door click shut. 

To: Miss l/n

I apologise for the inappropriate staring earlier this evening. This is an attempt to compensate for my behaviour. I’ll be leaving Italy the day after tomorrow so if you could do me the pleasure of having dinner with me tomorrow... I’d like to be acquainted.

I’ve made a reservation at La Terrazza for 7pm. I’ll meet you in the guest lobby downstairs at 6.30 to pick you up. 

Love, 

Lee Hyunjae

You can see how the material of the paper trembles a little between your fingers. The thought runs, So he’s a creep and a national treasure. He can’t hurt you, right?

Again, the evening gown is more than fitting on you. It’s been tailored to hug all your curves at your chest and your hips and thighs and it exposes your leg where the slit is. It’s like LV knew you had an important evening appointment coming up and had you pack all these different sets appropriate for the event. 

The usher standing by the guest lobby nods when you head for the door, and he pushes it open to reveal only one person in it: Lee Hyunjae. 

On the phone, he whirls around when he hears the doors swish against the carpet flooring. His eyes are glimmering under the soft, rosy lighting and the glossy collar of his suit looks like plastic from the reflection. 

“I gotta go, I’ll call you back.”

The phone clicks to black before he opens his blazer and slides it into his inner breast pocket. 

“I’m gonna guess that’s your manager,” Your fingers wrap around the clutch tightly as he takes a few steps toward you, obviously very stunned by how different you looked compared from the previous day. 

“Uh, no, actually,” That million-dollar smile gleams at you. He reaches up to his forehead and scratches his brow. His hair is styled upwards so seeing the glory of his forehead was pretty enticing. “My mom. Making sure I’m doing well and fine here.”

He stops a safe distance away from you, finished with taking in whatever of you his eyes and memory can allow him. “Not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna stand me up.”

“I think LV would fire me if they knew I stood the Lee Hyunjae up.”

Hyunjae licks his lips then purses them together, attention finally peeling off your face as he reaches for your hand. He presses his lips into the back of your palm, then casually hooks your arm around his while he walks to your side. “Ready to go?”

At a loss of words for his flirtatious mannerism, all you can afford is a nod.

But as if your vocabulary bank wasn’t already exhausted, you can’t help but stare in complete astonishment when you are led to the matte black Sian Roadster already waiting at the drop-off point right outside the lobby. 

“Have them send the Dior package to Miss l/n’s room by 9pm,” He instructs the bell boy by the hotel entrance as he reaches for the vehicle door. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Yes, Mr Lee.”

“Thanks.”

“Wait a minute,” Your vision is finally peeled off the car when Lee Hyunjae pulls the door open. “What Dior package?”

“Just a token of appreciation from me, that’s all,” He releases your arm as he guides you into the vehicle. “I knew if I gave it to you over dinner, you’d reject, so...”

Twitching his eyebrow, he smirks and retreats, closing the car door. 

Flirt.

The vehicle moves off with a sharp rev of the engine, and you almost feel guilty for being able to be comfortable in in your clothes, shoes, sports car and on the way to a fancy-ass restaurant. 

If only things could be like that for everybody and everything. 

“So, when are you leaving Italy?”

“Oh, um... tomorrow too actually,” Rome’s lights are wondrous on the outside, some of them blinding you. “I have... something to attend.”

“Hmm, that’s... vague.”

You turn to eye him at his silent call for clarification. “I’m attending a closing event; help out with administrations.”

“Like... a pet store or something?”

“Yeah, ‘or something’.”

“That confidential, huh?” He lets out a soft chuckle. 

The gut in your abdomen tells you not to look at him. He’ll see right through you, figure out that there’s something more to it than something ‘confidential’. 

“Yeah,” You mask it with a sigh. “Funds and things.”

You can feel his attention sink into your back as silence befell the atmosphere. 

There’s a kind of light in his eyes when he talks about racing. When he’s describing the feeling of adrenaline in his fingers, gripped around the steering wheel. He’s unexpectedly kind to the service at the restaurant, then again he was a celebrity and he had a reputation to uphold. 

It’s the kind of light that made you panic throughout dinner, because there’s no way this specimen of a man would ever pay you a second thought. Maybe you were going to be his Italy fling that he would boast about to his friends and colleagues and they’d laugh at you without you even knowing. 

What was a rich, handsome racer even doing, single? It was too good to be true, and even if it was, you? Of all people?

Dream on.

“It’s been... an amazing night. Thank you so much for dinner.”

Lee Hyunjae walks you into the lift, letting you press the button to your floor first. 

“I’ll walk you back. I have time.”

Standing with your feet together, in the safety of your gown, your hands are holding your clutch like your life depended on it. You could tell that he wasn’t the most comfortable now, not with his hands over one another and placed politely on his abdomen.

When the lift door dings open, the silence remains. He trails behind you as you walk your way to your room, hands fumbling through your clutch to search for your keycard. The slick of the door is fast and you push the door open, with a black and silver box with the label ‘DIOR’ printed on it sitting at the foot of your bed. 

“Oh, my God!” You rush in and grab the box, eyes widening as you turn to him, who has one arm extended to keep the door open. The box was almost as big as a pillow.

There’s a soft, warm smile on his face. A stark contrast to all his flirty ministrations throughout the evening. “Goodnight, Miss l/n. Sleep well and have a safe flight.”

“Wha-” Then he lowers his head, and turns around. “Wait!”

Without another moment of hesitation, he disappears down the corridor and the door swings shut. 

It feels ironically empty. Your hands are carrying this Godforsaken box of a gift and yet you cannot think of a way to properly thank the person who gave it to you. With slight reluctance, your fingers find the edge of the cover.

It’s a beautiful Dior blazer, packaged with a perfume and a cosmetics set. The cream letter in it is handwritten and signed the racer himself.

I wish we had more time. Love,  Lee Hyunjae

The nauseating sensation of your heart sinking in your chest beats all the logic in your brain when you find yourself reaching for the door handle. The box is mindlessly thrown back onto the bed as you rush out, kicking off your heels in the moment of folly. (Of course, remembering to use the door latch to keep the door open.)

“Hyunjae!” You call down the corridor, and he was just about to enter the lift. He turns, providing you with a gorgeous view of his jaw. 

It feels like a fairytale, when you run down the carpeted corridor, barefooted and still in your gown. The urge to throw your arms around him far supercedes your brain yelling at you not to, but you do it anyway. 

He catches you by the waist as your rest your forehead in his blazer, arms already struggling to meet the height of his shoulders. 

A whisper. “I wish we had more time too.”

He pushes you back by your upper arms, tucking one bit of your hair behind your ear. “If time is what you want, then I’ll make time.”

“But... I- Will you get in trouble?”

He looks you dead in the eye and subtly shakes his head. 

Time stops. 

Fear. That’s what you’re feeling. 

Then he tilts his head and slowly leans in. 

“I don’t think I’d care if I do.”

His breath hits your upper lip and your instincts flutter your lids shut. 

White wine and strawberries from dinner. That’s what he tastes like.

Warmth radiates off his palms and into your cheeks as he holds your face close to his, unable to resist the satisfaction and sweetness you were providing him. In this moment of intimacy, he loses all sense of realism and urgency - all he wants is you to himself, for the rest of the night until the sun rises. 

Then he’d have to worry about never seeing you again because his manager had chosen Gucci over LV. 

But right now, he has your heart and soul in his hands, as does his in yours. 

Being the romantic and (probably) egoistic man of a celebrity he is, he lowers himself and slides his arms where the back of your knees would be, somehow never breaking the kiss. The material of the gown dribbles over the cotton of his suit and your arm circles behind his neck, only minimizing the distance between the two of you. 

It feels like you’re getting married in this black and gold sparkly evening gown when he pushes the door open with his back. The scent of the room is inviting, but definitely none in comparison to the scent of his cologne beginning to stain your hands and your clothes. 

Gently resting you into the cool sheets of the bed, he pulls away to remove the Dior package off the bed, placing it on the mini coffee table by the bed. 

You were never one to deal with one night stands. Hell, the only person you’d ever slept with was some stupid kid back in the orphanage when your stupid teenage hormones were running-

He pulls off his blazer and leans in again, picking your awkward hands and resting them on the knot of his tie. His fingers are grazing the skin on your upper arm, trailing down to your cheek and then your hairline where he combs his hands through your hair. 

The knot on the tie comes undone with some slight tugs, and you slide it out from under his collar. Undoing only the first one, you rest your palms against his chest, creating a small rift where the air rushes to your lips where his should be.

He’s slightly stunned at the slightest breakage, but he is overwhelmed with more care and concern than he was upset. “Why? What’s wrong?” He traces your jaw and rests his fingers on your chin, noses almost touching.

“Are you sure... You want to do this? I can’t risk you losing your career,” Your index finger traces the likes of his cheekbone. “You barely just started.”

Hyunjae shakes his head subtly, taking your hands to his lips and pressing them into the back of your palm. “When I saw you in that room, I was... star struck. You’d think being the celebrity in the room would mean everything, but I felt like I was nothing if I didn’t know you, much less be able to get close to you.”

And for someone who hasn’t really had a biological family to love, his words stuck. 

“I just... knew. There are some things in the world you can work for, but I don’t think any amount of effort can give me you.”

His brown orbs find your gaze and it melts you thoroughly. Like ice cream on a hot day; like the way the ocean washes against the sand by the beach, taking grains of sand away with it - the same way Hyunjae was winning you bit by bit, if not already all of you. 

Your hands find his collar again, and it tightens around the stiff material to pull him back down. He smiles into the kiss, hands pressing into the mattress by your hair while you undo the rest of his buttons. His skin is hot under the shirt, blood running on the adrenaline and tension he was riding on from the intimacy. Muscles pumped and heart racing, you finally get his shirt off and he does you the honor of dropping it to the ground. 

He gives you time to gasp for air while he dips his nose into your neck, inhaling your perfume and the scent of the hotel shampoo in your hair. His back muscles tense up under your cold fingertips as you run them along his spine. It’s almost beast-like, when he flexes his arms and every single move shifts his shoulder blades under his skin. His lips leave gentle pecks in your neck and your exposed collar bone, letting goosebumps erupt all over your skin. 

His hand caresses your waist as a way of request, and you arch your back just enough for him to find the zipper on the back of your gown. The vibrations of the zip being pulled downwards already feels like little bolts of electricity up your spine, and the straps around your shoulders loosen with every inch unzipped. 

He’s done, when his fingers return to your shoulders to push the straps off. The cool air kisses your skin in spots where he isn’t touching with any part of his body. The silk of the gown gently slides off with every inch of a movement you make, more and more of your torso exposed to him. 

Sliding one of his arms under your lower back, he pulls you out of the dress instead of stripping you of it as he helps you further up the bed. Your hands press into the mattress in a bid to help him shift yourself without breaking the sloppy, messy kiss. Your back finally meets the pillows and he pushes the gown off the bed with his leg. 

Chin tilting to the ceiling, he finally creates some distance between the two of you, eyes drifting down to your collar bone and chest still covered. His palms are hot around your waist as he trails butterfly pecks on your cleavage, while your fingers find his hair to tousle and grip. 

Goosebumps start to surface when his breath is heavy on your stomach, then he reaches your underwear and it’s almost embarrassing to have him kiss you. 

Your clouded vision is manually stuck to the ceiling when you can feel your face burning with adrenaline. The tickle of the material when it gets pulled off your hips and down your legs bring your cheeks more color, and before you know it, Hyunjae has your breath hitched in your throat. 

He rests your thighs on his shoulders as he works his way around, the bare minimum sanity left inside you decides to grip onto the sheets instead of ripping out his hair. 

Chills shoot up your spine mercilessly, emanating in the form of lewd mewls directed into the air. The crown of your head meets the cushioned head board of the bed when his grip on your thighs tighten to keep you from squirming too much. 

Without warning, he drags a finger down your sensitiveness and slides it in easily, the sensation erupting a more-than-shameful groan from you. Pulling away, he adds another finger before shifting his attention back to your upper body, now eyeing the last piece of material covering your chest. But he captures your lips first to earn your attention, and your arms naturally find your way around his neck to keep him close. 

His free hand goes around your back to unhook your lingerie, and it’s nothing but a new addition to all the clothes on the carpet now. He removes his fingers, and breaks the kiss first, for the sole reason of giving you a perfect view of him licking his glistening skin. 

You can feel your brows furrow with frustration now, the warmth from him dissipating when he leans back on his heels in a kneeling position. By providing you a gorgeous view of his being while he undoes his belt, he’s only adding more fire to the fuel. 

It’s significant enough to stretch out the material of his boxers, and so he climbs over you as he removes his last bit of clothing. He harshly yanks you downwards into a lying position by your ankle, and the sharp friction against your back is an addition to the heat between the two of you. 

His breath is heavy on your lips as he rests his palms by your ears, weight pushing in the mattress. “Tell me if it hurts, love.”

Then he presses his lips into yours, like his life depended on it, and in one swift motion, he buries himself inside you like it was the most natural thing to do. 

You suck all the breath out of him as you gasp into the kiss, and he finds your arms to hook around his neck and shoulders. 

If you could feel the taste of honey throughout your body, this must be how it feels. 

He gives you some moments before he starts grinding his hips slowly, his palms finding your thighs and digging into your flesh as he hooks them around his hips. 

Breathless, you pull away first, whimpers in the back of your throat louder than what you would’ve expected. His nose dips into your neck again, arms now stretched out to use the headboard as support when he picks up the pace. 

Cursing under your breath, you feel guilty for the bliss that was spreading through you. Your nerves are all heightened by the adrenaline and your vision is blurred from the sole nature of the intimate act. 

He’s not fast, but every spot he’s hitting feels like cloud nine over and over again. 

Like a spark in the dark, the sacred spot reveals itself in the form of harsher breaths and groans. Your fingernails dig into his back and your thighs are losing stamina to remain wrapped around him. 

“That’s it,” He breaths into your ear, pressing a kiss into your lower jaw. “Come for me.”

Tremors burst through your body like lightning in a storm upon his request. He helps you ride it out with a few more thrusts before he pulls out himself, releasing on your stomach, chest heaving. 

Resting his forehead on yours, he smiles. “Let’s hope that one day I wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out.”

You scoff, slightly tired. “We’ll see.”

You are woken up by the unfamiliar warmth you normally don’t have under the blanket. White sheets and tousled hair come into your field of vision before you can process the face, partially hidden, but eyes wide open.

“Jesus,” Your morning breath billows out between your lips and you swallow to dampen your dry throat. The room looks too damn bright for it to be morning. “What time is it?”

“7am. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. My manager hasn’t called me so... we have time to spare.” 

You shuffle around under the sheets and your arms slide under the pillow where its cool. He shifts and pulls out his arm to rest on his tricep, palm under his ear and hair as he perches up his head. 

“What?” You pull the blanket up to your face and inhale the scent of it. It smells like him now. 

“You look pretty when you’re asleep.”

“What?” You frown, but a smile is on your lips. “How long did you watch me sleep for?”

“Not long, don’t worry. I’m not a perv.”

“Well, considering we just slept together after 24 hours of knowing one another-”

“Hey, we’re both about to be deported back to Korea to work. Give us a break, would you?” He groans and shifts again, this time trying to pull you into his chest. 

“Ah,” Snorting, you let him cradle you in his arms, his bare skin pressed warmly into yours. “‘Deport’? That’s what you call your job?”

“Only because you’re involved now,” He pecks you on the lips. “So... can I ask about your ‘administrative matters’ you said you needed to attend?”

Right. The orphanage is closing down. 

The guilt washes through you again. 

“Oh,” A look of seriousness overtakes your facials, and he notes the change in expression. “Um... I- Well... It’s an orphanage. It’s closing.”

He blinks at you, gaze filled with wander. “Were you a volunteer or...?”

Silence. 

You can’t bring yourself to say it. 

Unable to bear the incoming judgment he might provide you, your eyes dart away. 

“Hey, hey,” He finds your chin and tilts it back up to his attention. “What’s wrong? I don’t see anything wrong with being who you are. Why are you ashamed?”

“I... I’ve lived all my life with that label. ‘Orphan’. It only got better when I came out to work.”

“Is that why you are so worried? That... we might affect something and possibly implicate that?”

“Maybe.”

He sighs, thumb stroking your cheek as he shakes his head. “Nah. It shouldn’t matter.” Pulling your head into his chest, you can hear the steady thumping of his heart through his skin. “’Administrative matters’, huh? Are you like a... committee member or donator?”

“I’m an unofficial sponsor ambassador from LV. Well, LV was supposed to arrange for official funding, but they just never really had the time or resources to build the rapport. The orphanage was doing too badly for any company or brand to want to help and invest their attention on.”

“Mm,” He hums, stroking your hair. “I’m sorry about that. I truly am.”

“It’s okay. Nothing could’ve been done about it anyway. All I hope now is for the kids to be safe, no matter where they go.”

It feels empty again, having Hyunjae being ripped from your side at the airport once the plane touched down. The manager was surprisingly not surprised to know that you had spent the night together, the only question he had asked being something that concerned a future pregnancy, which the two of you have already confirmed negative. 

It’s late when you reach back your apartment, and you ready yourself for the private meeting with the committee members of the orphanage. Though tired and severely jet-lagged, you cannot miss this meeting. It’s the last time you’ll see all the caretakers and members of the organisation in the same room.

You shift into the taxi in a new set of clothes, but topped with the Dior blazer and smelling like the Dior perfume, you feel like you were probably going to get slapped once you reach the meeting.

The building of the orphanage looks so run-down, it could be mistaken for a prison had it not been for the words HILDA’S ORPHANAGE in big, block letters above the entrance. Before you can exit the taxi, your phone starts vibrating in your purse.

It’s the President of the orphanage.

“I’m right outside the building, going in soon,” You push open the car door and thank the driver. 

“The meeting has been cancelled. Someone bought the orphanage and we’ll be managed under a new system.”

“What?”

“Surprise.” 

You turn around and see the last person you’d expect to see here, in his hands, a folder of documents and a small bouquet of flowers. 

“Um,” Your eyes are stuck to Hyunjae, but you’re still on the phone. “The buyer... Does it have anything to do with Gucci or F1?”

“Yes, it’s an F1 sponsorship but there will be more details into the managerial and planning system. Some things will have to change.”

“I’ll... I’ll call you back.”

Hyunjae watches you lock your phone in shock, attention unrivalled. He takes a few steps towards you and you now realise he’s still in the same clothes he was in on the plane. His eyebags are obvious but the prideful grin on his face makes him glow. 

Stopping about an arms’ length away from you, he holds out the folder.

“I checked with my manager and he checked with F1. They green-lit it, but on a few conditions. I heard them out before I told them it would be more likely than not you’d accept it, so here are the legal documents. All the terms and conditions and sponsor contract are already in here, so you and the President can sign it when you deem fit.”

Taking the folder, you didn’t even notice your hands are trembling as you flip through it. 

But your eyes flitter up from the page when you notice the printing: 

OWNER’S SIGNATURE (Y/N L/N): ____________________

“It’s yours if you sign it.”

Now, he holds out the bouquet. “I thought of putting it under my name but I don’t want you to think you owe me a favour and have it bugging you all the time.”

Gently shaking your head, as if you could shake out the surprise, you close the file and look to him in awe. “But I’ll still owe you, big time. This is... this is everything, so thank you.”

He sucks in a deep breath and shakes the bouquet of flowers a little. 

“You can return the favour by going out with me. Properly, whenever I have time, and I promise, no Dior packages.”

Taking the bouquet into hand, you throw your arms around his shoulders, tears welling in your eyes.

#hyunjae #lee hyunjae #hyunjae smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hyunjae #lee hyunjae smut #tbz scenarios #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae scenario #hyunjae fanfic

[xiaoderys]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 (𝐥.𝐣𝐧)

pairing: Football Captain!Jeno x Mean Girl/Cheer Captain!Reader

warnings: smut, going into subspace, creampie, overstimulation, praise kink, cum swallowing, overuse of the word ‘baby’

word count: 2.8K

requested: yes

Everybody knows who you are— student body president, homecoming queen, cheerleading captain; you were the school’s it girl and you had everybody wrapped around your tiny little fingers with just a single look in your eye, but while you had everyone falling on their knees for you, Lee Jeno was not having any of your bullshit. Instead, he went out of his way to avoid you and since Jeno was the school’s hotshot, it came as a surprise to everyone that the infamous Mr. Golden Boy and the school’s most precious darling sweetheart hated each other’s guts.

But what people didn’t know was that behind all this facade you and Jeno both put up for the whole school, you were just a sucker for each other’s touch.

You swore to yourself that you would never even dare lay eyes on anyone from the football team, after everything you’ve experienced from Jeno, you just grew an overbearing hatred towards football players in general and much to your cheer squad’s dismay, your rule applied to them as well. Call it being too harsh but you’re the captain and what you say goes so you would always tell your girls: “Guys on the football team are off-limits. You think it’s cute for cheerleaders and football players to date? Then you’d be glad to know that you’re not the first girl they’ve fucked in the locker rooms.. and definitely not the last. If I find any one of you getting too close with one of those assholes, don’t even fucking dare show your face here ever again.” 

But you’re a hypocrite.

After one too many shots of some cheap alcohol and two horny teenagers at the homecoming games after party, you could only imagine what happened next.

Hands around your waist, body on top of his, tongues fighting for dominance; he tasted like beer and regret. You could’ve stopped it, you could’ve ran away, you could’ve told him no before he was shoving his tongue down your throat and fucking you senselessly on his roommates bed.. you could’ve done so many things to stop all of this before it even started but you didn’t. Because Lee Jeno is a drug and unfortunately for you, you just found your new addiction.

After that night, it became a habit, a ritual for the both of you. After every game or practice, you would meet up in the East building locker room and he would rail you until you were too sore to go to cheer practices the next day. Not your proudest moments but it’s just as if there wasn’t enough air in the room to fill your lungs whenever you were with him.

Now, it’s 4pm and you’re kneeled on the floor in between Jeno’s thighs as he guided your head up and down his thick length. You swirled your tongue around the slit, licking all the way from the base to the tip which resulted in unholy words and gutteral moans to leave his mouth. All the praises and lewd sounds escaping his lips were going straight to your core and you were so painfully aroused by now. You wanted to reach one hand down to relieve yourself while getting Jeno off but you know that’s just gonna cost you a mind blowing orgasm from him so you chose not to.

“Fuck, baby, just like that- shit!” head thrown back, fingers laced in your hair, sweat coating his well-defined abs; seeing him like this really makes you forget about all your built up frustrations towards him “Please keep going” his breathy whines sounded so angelic yet sinful at the same time.

He pulls your head up by your hair forcing you to make eye contact with him, lips still wrapped around his swollen cock “God you’re so pretty like this” he smiles “It’s almost as if you were made just for it” his features softened, admiring the sight before him, his adorable baby on her knees, teary-eyed, mascara running down her flushed cheeks, and mouth full of cock, Jeno swore the view alone could make him come right then and there but he had more plans for you.

“That feels so good, baby, keep doing that, fuck!” he groans, encouraging you to take his whole length until it hit the back of your throat. Jeno met each bob of your head with a thrust which had you gagging around him and that only added to his pleasure.

The sight of your swollen red lips wrapped around his thick cock so perfectly was enough to make him go feral so it wasn’t long before Jeno was bucking his hips up into you “Shit, I’m gonna come” he tightened his grip on your hair forcing you to go down on him faster and after a few more pumps, he was climaxing and you being the good girl that you are, swallowed everything he could give you, feeling the thick, hot liquid running down your throat. You licked up and down his length to collect all the cum that you didn’t catch, not letting a single drop go to waste then you stuck your tongue out to show him that you’ve swallowed it all. “Fuck that’s so hot” he growled.

You continued to suck his tip, trying to get as much out of him as possible but he removed you from his cock, pulling you up to straddle his lap “Come here, baby” he smashed your lips together and he could taste himself on you. He thought he actually tasted kinda nice

“You want my dick inside you, pretty girl?” he mumbles against you breathlessly and you try to nod, replying with a tiny ‘yes, please’ and he hovers you above his throbbing dick, spitting on his fingers and bringing them to your pussy so he can prep you because he knows your little cunt needs all the prepping it can get to take his fat cock. “You’re this wet just from sucking dick?”

“Just. Want. You. Inside. Please!” he chuckles at your neediness, fascinated by how he could have the school’s infamous snobby it girl drooling over his cock and all he had to do was whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re on the pill, right?” you nod at him and he bunched your skirt up to your waist, aligning himself with your heat as he slowly sunk you down on his length. 

No matter how wet you were or how many times Jeno fucked you, you still couldn’t seem to get used to his size, squirming as soon as he entered you. Small whimpers were falling from his lips due to oversensitivity and you could’ve sworn they were the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard in your life.

“S-so big! Feels so good!” Jeno’s a simple guy, feed his ego, tell him how big he is and how good he makes you feel and he’ll give you a good fuck.

He knew your body so well and found your sweet spot right away which had you almost screaming at the top of your lungs, thank god this area was secluded or else, anyone walking by outside would definitely know what the both of you were up to “Right there! ahghh please!” you squealed and he held your waist, thrusting up to meet your heat “Right here?” he asks, giving a particularly hard thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Yes! oh my god!” you threw your head back in daze, leaving Jeno more room to mark his baby’s pretty neck. He sucked purple marks on your skin that would definitely be a pain in the ass to cover up tomorrow but that was the least of your problems right now.

“Please go faster!” you needily whine and to be honest, who was he to decline your request? He tightened his grip on your waist and guided you faster up and down his length.

“Fuck! Come here” he pulled your face closer to him and once again put your lips together. He could tell you were close by the way you were clenching around him and as usual, he was right “G-gonna come, Jen, can I please come?!” you plead against him and you could feel his lips form a smirk “Of course, you can, baby. Come for me” that’s all it took for you to moan uncontrollably and release all your juices around Jeno’s cock.

But you noticed that his movements weren’t getting any slower, in fact, they were getting faster and faster and faster.

You laced your fingers in his hair, gripping them tightly “W-what are you doing?” you whimper “I’m fucking you, baby, what does it look like I’m doing?” he growls “B-but I already came!” you squealed and he pushed your body to lay you down on the bench, hooking your legs around his waist as he hovers above you, face inches away from yours “You don’t mind doing it a few more times for me, right baby?” he stills for a second, waiting for assurance. His features softened and holy fuck, you swore you couldn’t breathe. You shook your head with wide eyes leaving him with a grin “That’s a good pup” he kissed the tip of your nose before he continued to relentlessly pound into you.

His tip repeatedly brushed against your sweet spot, leaving you gasping for air and clinging onto his body like your life depended on it “Jeno..“ you sob, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge again.

“Fuck! How are you this pretty?” He brought one of his hands to your face, removing all the strands of hair covering it. Seeing you like this, drove him insane and all he could do was chuckle at your wrecked state “Look at you, all desperate and whiny under me. I wonder how your little cheer squad would react if they find out that their snobby little captain who talks big game about hating football players is just a little whore for me?” you couldn’t even reply to tell him otherwise because you both knew he was right, he was always fucking right and you hated it.

You could feel your next orgasm approaching, you try to warn him yet nothing but incoherent words and cries of his name fell from your mouth “J-jeno plea-hmnngg!” He watched you intently, brows furrowed, mouth agape and tears falling on the sides of your face “What is it, baby? Use your words and tell me what you want” he taunts “I’m so close!” you gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer “Don’t hold back, doll. Show me how good I make you feel.” You felt your walls tighten around him once again and you were cumming for the second time.

You thought he would stop there but it still wasn’t enough for Jeno. He loved seeing your flustered face; your whines and pants were like music to his ears, it would be a shame if he stopped now.

The sweat forming on his forehead was dripping down onto you, his thrusts weren’t letting up and you couldn’t think straight. Your mind was all fuzzy and all you could think about was Jeno.

He had you writhing underneath him, cock still deep inside your sensitive pussy, pounding into you mercilessly even after having come two times already.

Your whole body was shaking, you could only take so much. You let out cries and whines yet it only seemed to inflate Jeno’s ego and drive him to go faster and harder. “J-Jeno! I can’t take it anymore!” you thrashed under him but his big, strong arms held you in place “Yes you can, baby, just one more” He knew your body better than anyone else, he knows when you’ve had enough and he knows you can take more-- he knows you want more. “Just one more, okay?”

He continued to plunge his cock deeper and deeper until you were nothing but a whiny, sobbing mess. The overwhelming pleasure filled your senses. You held onto him tighter as soon as you felt another high approaching. Your mind was all over the place and you felt like you were gonna black out. You dug your nails into his biceps and they were sure to leave marks. “Too much, too much, too much!” you chant like a mantra “Just a little more, baby” he tries to reassure you but you were feeling dizzy at this point and his words almost stopped making sense.

You could feel every vein on his cock grazing your walls so deliciously. Every praise and groans that fell from his lips were the only things you could comprehend. “You’re doing so well, baby.. almost there” Your eyes were now rolling to the back of your head, your body stopped shaking and you were in a state of pure bliss, you felt dizzy and your vision was slowly fading to black “J-jeno…” you mumble “Yes, baby, you’re doing so so good, stay with me, just a little more” All you could think about was Jeno and the overwhelming pleasure from his cock rubbing against your tight walls and right at that exact moment, it felt like nothing in the world mattered but the both of you.

You felt spurts of cum being released inside you and you so almost passed out “Fuck, baby. you feel so good” he was panting and kept thrusting sloppily into you “That felt so damn good, baby” as he was coming down from his high, he noticed that you weren’t responding so he cupped your cheeks “Good job, baby, you took me so well” you were still deep into subspace and Jeno tried to be gentle with you as much as he could “You’re okay, baby. I’m here. Just breathe, okay?” He tucked the messy strands of hair covering your face and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

He pulls out ever so slowly, trying his best not to hurt you. He watched his cum drip out of your cunt and he swore he almost came for the third time “God look at that, my cum’s dripping from your tiny pussy. One of these days, I’m gonna have to buy you a plug so you can keep everything I give you inside” he slowly collected both of your juices mixed together on his fingers and hovered it in front of your lips “Open up, baby” you still couldn’t understand anything and it took you a while to register what was happening but as soon as you did, you opened up your mouth and started sucking on his fingers “Does it taste good?” you nod frantically and kept mumbling incoherent words which made Jeno coo at you.

He took his fingers away from your mouth and you whined “m-more please! more!” Jeno chuckled at how needy you were but he didn’t want to push you way beyond your limits ”You’ve already done enough, baby. You can calm down now, okay? just breathe” a few minutes pass by of Jeno trying to bring you back into reality and you finally calmed down.

He pampered you with kisses and praises, making sure you were okay after coming down from your state of pure ecstasy. “You did so well, baby, I’m so proud of you” he smiles sweetly as he wipes your mascara stained cheeks with his thumb “Thank you, Jen” you murmur, trying not to look him in the eye. “What’s wrong?” he asks, turning your head to face him “Nothing” Jeno could tell something was bothering you but he just shrugs it off because he knows your relationship was strictly physical and you would never open up to him anyway.

“Okay, well, I need to get going now,” he gets off of you “I still need to help Jaemin prepare for the party tonight” you tried to stand up but your legs felt like jelly so you stumbled a little but thankfully, Jeno was there to catch you “Woah, careful there. Do you need help getting home?” Yes, you do, but you weren’t gonna tell him that “No, I’ll be fine” you shook your head with a small smile.

“You’re still coming later, right?” you fixed your clothes and tried to collect your thoughts and you shot him a confused look “Hmm?” he chuckled, clearly your mind was still in shambles from earlier “the party tonight” your body still felt sore but you just couldn’t say no “Oh yeah, of course, how could I miss it?” He smiled at you, throwing his shirt back on “Good, you know where my room is, I’ll see you again at 7?”

You watched as he tried to tidy himself up and collect his belongings, thoughts running around your head, wanting to tell him so badly to stay and just talk for a while, to sort things out between the two of you because god knows you could only contain your emotions for so long, but instead, you just nod at him and smile “I’ll see you at 7” he returns your smile and walks out, leaving you there to mentally curse yourself for not having the courage to tell him how you feel but this is what you signed up for. You made your bed and now you have to lay on it.

#jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct 00 line #jeno au #00 line smut #jeno #nct dream 00 line #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #kpop smut #nct au #nct hard hours #nct #nct dream #nct jeno #Lee jeno #jeno imagines #jeno one shot

[writing-wh0re]

George and y/nn broke up after the war because they both wanted to concentrate on their careers. The two see each other again years later at Ginny's and Harry's wedding because y/n and Ginny were very good friends even though she was in Fred and George's year. She was always like a big sister to ginny. George and y/n have never stopped loving each other and getting closer to each other again at the wedding. Then they disappear into the burrow and have hot sex. George is Dom as always. When the two come back Fred and Ginny already look suspiciously at them, because both of them always had to hear from the two how much they miss each other.

All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests - Be sure to follow to not miss anything. I can also add you to my taglist!

Dom!George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Y/n (Your Name) Y/L/N (Your Last Name)

Word Count: 2,406

Warnings: Smut 18+, Explicit Language, Daddy Kink (whoops), Light Bondage, Vaginal Intercourse, Unprotected Sex, Oral (female receiving), Spanking(?)

*Flashback*

“So you two broke up?” I look over to George who softly nods, I pout slightly as Ginny sighs. “If you both believe that’s what’s best for you.” Ginny pulls me into a hug as I sniffle softly. 

“I still love Y/n, we just both agreed we want to grow and it's in different directions.” 

I smile weakly at George nodding in response to our agreement, butterflies in my stomach due to the changes in my life, from breaking up with George and starting my career as an Aura. 

“Hey? Are you okay?” George asks, rubbing my arms as I nod my head. 

“Sorry I got lost inside my head for a second, just a lot of change right now.” I chuckle, my eyes a little puffy from the small flow of tears. 

“I know baby.” I feel my breath hitch at the nickname as George frowns. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” I pull George into a tight hug pulling away, smiling at him, squeezing his arms to help him know I'm okay. I walk over to Ginny, giving her a tight squeeze as she sighs deeply. 

“You’ll always be a part of this family.” Ginny states as I nod. 

“I think Molly would kill me if I protested that.” We all laugh lightly in response as I grab my two trunks filled with my belongings as I turn and smile at George whose eyes are filling with tears. 

“If I ever need a day off work, I’ll come to the shop for some puking pastilles.” 

George chuckles nodding at me as I smile, I fix my grip on the trunks as I walk out of our, well now George’s apartment. My feet hit the concrete outside, the cool breeze washing through my hair as my face heats up due to the soft flow of warm tears. 

*Present day* 

I open the lavender envelope, smiling at the invitation that falls out. 

‘Please Join Us To Celebrate The Marriage Of, 

Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter.’ 

I grab the RSVP card checking the ‘yes’ box as I put it inside my own envelope. I give the envelope to my snowy owl as he flies off to make his delivery. I feel butterflies hit my stomach as I remember who will be in attendance. 

George Weasley. 

My heart sinks, missing him terribly as I sigh, my hand touching my lips as I remember the feeling of his against mine. I close my eyes briefly, stopping myself before my mind wanders too far. 

I rush to my wardrobe attempting to find something that will capture his attention.

------ One week later -----

“Oh Y/n, I’m so happy you’re here.” Molly says, pulling me into a warm embrace as I smile, my senses filling with cinnamon and a hint of lemon washing liquid.  “You know, my boy has missed you terribly, he has-” 

“Mum, stop embarrassing me.” My heart jumps, hearing his voice for the first time in six months. Molly tuts and walks off as I smile, almost running into George’s open arms as we collectively sigh together. I look up at George, his eyes boring into mine, I watch as he drags his tongue across his lips causing my breath to hitch, knowing exactly what he can do with that tongue. George leans down softly as I stand on my tippy toes. 

“Y/n.” George and I break away quickly, acting as if nothing just happened as I smile at Fred. 

“Hey Freddie, miss me?” I wink as I hug the tall ginger. 

“Of course, hey it’s been six months now, want to date the cooler brother?” Fred winks as George rolls his eyes shoving his brother as he walks away from the situation. “He misses you.” 

“I miss him, is he seeing anyone?” I ask, biting the inside of my lip, my hands growing clammy. 

“Not even one glance at another woman, what about you?” My heart beats faster, a smile forming on my face as I attempt to hide it. 

“Exactly the same, I’ve been too stuck into my work.” 

“Y/n.” I hear two female voices say as Ginny and Hermonie rush to my side, hugging me individually as I smile. 

“Well hello Miss soon to be Mrs.” I wink as Ginny blushes. 

“It’s crazy right? I would have thought it would be you and George-” Ginny slaps her mouth as I sigh smiling weakly, my eyes flicking to George who picked up on his name, sadness all over his face. 

“Don’t even stress about that.” 

“Well, I have to go let Fleur keep putting makeup on me.” Ginny smiles as Hermonie grabs my arm. 

“Join us, please.” I nod as I follow the two girls up the stairs, looking over my shoulder seeing George’s eyes on me as he quickly flicks them away. 

-----

“Oh, Ginny, you look incredible.” 

“Absolutely gorgeous.” 

“Stunning, really.” 

The room fills with compliments as Ginny shares her appearance with us. 

“Girls, go find you seats for the ceremony, I’ll bring Arthur up.” Molly says sniffling, smiling at her daughter. I make my way out of the room, the silk fabric of my dress swaying slightly as I walk down the staircase, making my way to the garden for the ceremony. 

I walk out into the breeze, following the sound of voices as I spot the two redheads standing at the back of the aisle. 

“Y/n, Hi, wow, you look incredible.” Lee Jordan says smiling at me. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

I smile as my eyes flick over George, noticing the way his dress shirt is rolled up his arms nicely. 

“Couldn’t miss Ginny’s big day.” 

“You look lovely.” Fred smiles his eyes lingering on George as I roll my eyes knowing he’s doing it to get a reaction from his younger brother. 

“Take you seats, they are ready.” Molly says ushering all of us into the white tiffany chairs that litter the grass. 

I sit on the left end of the second row, George sitting next to me, then Fred and lastly Lee Jordan. 

“You look gorgeous.” George whispers, his hot breath fanning my neck as he speaks, I feel my breath hitch slightly as he runs his fingertips up my thigh. 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” I surprise myself with such a confident answer, proud for not having my voice shake. 

George chuckles, licking his bottom lip lightly as I cross my legs feeling my core ache between my legs, hoping George doesn’t notice as the music begins to play all of us standing to watch Ginny walk down the aisle to her soon to be husband. 

------

The reception is in full swing, everyone celebrating by dancing and drinking. I walk over to the bar ordering a glass of wine as I watch Molly and Arthur embarrass all their children by showing off their ‘hip’ dance moves. 

“Y/n, Y/n Y/L/N” I hear a voice say as I thank the bartender for my drink and see Percy Weasley. 

“Merlin.” I whisper not knowing Percy very well but knowing that he didn’t particularly like me at Hogwarts. 

“Hi, Percy.” I smile, sipping my wine.

“It’s wonderful to see you, I hear you’re an Aura now? Also heard my brother couldn’t keep up with that lifestyle.” Percy chuckles as I scoff, feeling a hand rest just above my bum as George buts in. 

“What was that Percy?” 

“Nothing, just congratulating Y/n on being an Aura, surprised all of us really.” 

“What the f-” George squeezes my bum cutting me off as Percy walks away. 

“Come with me, I’d like to show you something.” I nod as I finish my glass of wine causing George to raise an eyebrow at me as I shrug. 

“I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.” 

George grabs my hand leading me out of the reception and towards the burrow. I continue to follow him up the stairs and into his bedroom as I smile, looking around at the familiar space. 

“George, why did-” I gasp softly against George’s mouth as he holds my waist kissing me. I feel my heart being to race as if it was the first time all over again, my mind wandering to our very first time in this room on George’s old riggidy bed and how Fred heard us from the bathroom. 

I feel tears prick my eyes as I break my kiss with the love of my life. 

“Wait.” 

“Did you not want that? I’m so sorry.” George begins to apologize as I shake my head. 

“I’m only saying wait because this can’t be a one night stand, I love you George, fuck I’ve missed you so much and I personally want us to be us again.” I blurt out as George smiles wide at me, picking me up and placing me on the same old bed. 

“I love you, I missed you and I was an idiot for thinking we needed to grow up without each other, I want us to be us.” George confirms as I sniffle, pulling him closer as our lips lock together, moving in perfect sync just like they used to. I bite his bottom lip softly causing him to groan as our tongues start to taste each other. I feel him run his hands down my body, pulling the straps of my dress down just enough to have my boobs out as he sucks and licks the plump flesh. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you George.” I breathlessly whisper as he stops his actions. 

“What did you call me?” 

I feel butterflies erupt inside of me, wetness pooling in my already soaked panties as I smirk. 

“Daddy.” I whimper as I feel his smirk against my boob, resuming his actions. 

“Now, be a good girl and stay quiet.” he warns as he pulls up my dress exposing my black lace g string, a grunt falling from his swollen lips. “Let Daddy show you how much he missed you.” George pulls the flimsy fabric down my legs as he looks up at me. “So fucking wet for Daddy.” I throw my head back as his mouth is instantly on my pussy, my back arching at the feeling having missed it for the last six months. I feel every flick of his skillful tongue, my mouth open as soft moans and gasps fall from it, I run my fingers through his hair as I grind against his mouth. Instantly his hands are on my hips holding me down as he continues his assault on my clit, his tongue lapping me up. 

“Daddy, please.”

My whimpers only cause him to add two fingers to my tight dripping pussy, causing him to groan against me sending waves of vibrations throughout my body as I bite my lip. 

“I’m going to cum.” George nods against me as I cover my mouth with my own hand, moaning loud as he grabs my forearm moving my hand away to hear me moan for him. 

“Still fucking mine.” I nod as he sucks his fingers causing me to blush slightly as he takes off his belt smirking at me as he grabs both of my hands, tightening the belt around them as I lick my lips. 

“So naughty for Daddy, aren’t you baby?” He asks rhetorically as he pulls his pants down, getting a better position on the bed as he runs his hard dick in between my folds coating it with my wetness as he slides deep inside of me. Moans filling the air as he twitches inside of me. 

“Fucking made for me.” I nod, biting my lip as he slides his hand up my body, wrapping it around my throat as my eyes roll back, my body reacting to all these familiar feelings, having been deprived for so long. George thrusts into me revealing in the feeling as he smiles down at me, bending over to kiss me, picking up the pace of his hips as our lips fight against each other. 

George pulls out of me as I whimper, watching as he undoes the belt around my hands and slaps my ass. 

“Ass up.” 

I’m instantly on my stomach, ass in the air as George slides back in, my pussy tighter from this angle causing him to hiss in pleasure as I groan into the mattress. 

“Remember the safe word?” 

“Pink.” 

“Mm, good girl.” I feel him kiss in between my shoulder blades as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, the leather of his belt slapping against my ass as I hold onto the sheets tighter. My moans act as encouragement as he continues to thrust into me deep, rubbing my ass cheek as he slaps it again with the leather before soothing it with his hand. 

“I’m close.” I cry out as I hear him throw the belt away, his fingers brushing against my sensitive bundle of nerves as I moan into the mattress, feeling my vision get blurry and my body tense as it releases tingles throughout. I feel him twitch inside me as his thrusts slow, filling me with hot cum. 

Falling beside me on the bed, both of us out of breath as he pulls me into his chest. 

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” 

“Of course not.” I kiss his cheek as he smiles wide. 

“I don’t know if I have to ask but are we us, again?” I nod like crazy, as he kisses my head. “I’m never letting you go again.” 

“I won’t let you.” I smile as our lips lock again. "We should probably head back." I suggest, getting off the small bed, slipping back on my G string and fixing my appearance as George does the same. We walk out of the shared bedroom hand in hand, making our way back to the reception. 

"One Sickle." I hear Fred say as we reach him and Lee Jordan, Lee huffing as he places the silver coin in Fred's awaiting hand. 

"Do I want to know?" George asks as Lee sighs. 

"Just a bet that you two would get back together at the wedding." 

“Don’t forget, you owe Ginny as well.” Fred states as I shake my head chuckling. 

“Dance with me?” George asks as I take his hand and lead him to the makeshift dance floor, his hands on my hips as I rest my head on his chest, finally not feeling homesick.

---

Taglist:

@andreaareynoso

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

#writing-wh0re-requests #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley smut #dom!george weasley #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasly x hufflepuff #smut #hp recs #hp fic #hp requests #fanfiction requests #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x fem #anon reply #anon request #hp rec

[johnsamericano]

Ꭰąվ 𝟙7

➱ Ƭҽղ lҽҽ

A new brand starts paving its way in the fashion industry, and the young, lively owner, seems to be oddly interested in Ten.

genre: angst, smut.

warnings: sex, fingering, strangers to enemies, mean ten.

☞ taglist: @morningsunandnightsky @soberhani @aaasteroidsky @chenlewifey @piaozhisheng @doeilovr @aedreamzy @multistan30

falling masterlist

~

~

“He is here, Miss Y/n.”

“Let him in, please.” You fiddled with your hands nervously, going over and over again the script you'd prepared. The fact that he accepted to see you, already felt like a dream come true. “Mr. Lee, a pleasure to make your acquaintance!” God that sounded even more desperate out loud. But then again, dignity wasn't an option when you were trying to start a business.

“The pleasure is mine, y/n. May I call you that?” He stretched out his elegant hand, which you shook almost too eagerly.

“Sure!” Your cheeks were slightly heated as you sat behind your desk, inviting him to do the same in the chair beneath you. “So, as you know, I'm launching a new collection this season. The theme is no barriers, which means we'll be drifting away from the traditional a bit.” He hummed, pretending to be interested in your non-stopping chat. “It’s going to be awesome, we gathered a bunch of rookie models to give them a chance to shine. But I’d love to see you wear the main piece of my collection. Here.” You laid your tablet at the table, letting him take a look at the funky, unusual design. “What do you think?”

He smiled gently, your heart skipping a few beats at the sight of his pretty lips.

“I think this is going to be a complete failure.” Your eyes lost their glint, eyebrows falling to create a deep frown between them. “I heard you used to work for one of the most influential brands in the country. Why don't you go back to them?” His cocky grin expanded as if he were a master reminding his student of his place. But you were already used to harsh comments, in fact, that wasn't even the worst thing someone had said to you in the past year.

“Please, leave my office. I don't think this collaboration will work.”

“I shall take my leave, then.” he hopped off his seat, apparently satisfied with his work. “And one more thing...” He stopped at the doorframe, making sure you were looking at him before he said: “That attitude is not going to get you anywhere.”

How wrong he was.

Standing in the middle of the scenario for Paris’ fashion week, you remembered the beginning of your company. All the rejections and all the pain you had to go through before people started to finally notice your work. And it was actually the collection Ten rejected that went viral.

“Miss y/n, where should I leave the makeup stuff?”

“The stylist should be backstage, please give it to him.” You squinted your eyes, trying to make sense of the names sticking to the chairs in the first row.

There it was.

You smiled at yourself, knowing that the night would take an interesting turn when that special guest arrived.

The day was hectic, so much that when you finally finished making the arrangements, it was time for the runway. Everyone was already seated but you, waiting for the last minute to make your dramatic entrance.

The staff guided you to your seat, though you were already well aware of its location. His black, long hair was the first thing you saw as you approached the chair, very different from the short, blonde hair he had when you first met. You'd asked personally to be seated beside him, causing commotion all around. Rumors of a possible relationship started floating around you, as well as a possible collaboration.

“Good evening.” His eyes met yours, as cold as the day he tried to crush your dreams.

“Evening, y/n. Nice seeing you here.” You made sure to show off your suit, designed especially for the occasion. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“I know.” He looked handsome too. Long hair fitted him like a glove. “How’s this for a complete failure?” You silently cursed at yourself for sounding so pathetic, you should've kept that for later.

“I was wrong, I admit it. But that doesn't mean I like your clothes.” Cocky asshole.

“Thank you for your unpopular opinion.” He smiled, genuinely this time. Now that you had a higher position, you weren't holding back your venomous tongue.

“I heard you've been asking around about me.”

“I still think you're a great model. Too bad you have an awful personality.” He leaned into your shoulder, gracing the shell of your ear seductively.

“I’m just honest. You're too sensitive.” The show had already started, yet, your attention was completely on Ten.

“You just wanted to fuck me and my brand that day, don't act like you were doing me a favor.”

“I did want to fuck you, not in the way you're talking about, though.” He could feel the heat your flushed skin irradiated. “I still do, in case you want to join me tonight.”

“I’d never spend more than five minutes alone in a room with you again.”

“Let’s make a bet. If one of your models trips on stage, you'll have to join me for a drink...in my room.” You hated to admit it, but he was getting on your nerves.

“Fine. But when you lose, you'll have to wear one of my pieces for my next runway.” He hummed in agreement, redirecting his attention back to the stage, where models had started to show off their outfits.

“Look, here comes one of them.” He pointed at the person who'd just stepped into the scenario, walking with confidence enough not to miss any step.

“It seems like you're gonna lose.”

“Don't be so sure, darling.” Almost at the same time, said model connected eyes with the man beside you, who made sure to give him a look that would have a shark trembling in fear, causing him to trip over his feet. “There we go.”

“You’re such an imbecile.” The man quickly got up, resuming his route backstage.

“Too bad you're gonna have to spend the night with me.”

Alcohol surely did a great job making him less annoying. Or maybe your mind was too blurry to notice anymore. While both of you laid on his hotel bed, he poured out his thoughts, one after another.

“I don't think I'm good enough. That's why I keep this attitude, else, I feel like no one’s going to respect me.” You drank up the last bits of your champagne, almost drowning while at it, before throwing the glass against a wall. “What are you doing?”

“Fuck this.” Your lips crashed against his in less than a second, legs trading his torso as your hips ground down on his abdomen. “You’re not good enough? Fuck you. You came into my office, crushed my dreams, only to tell me it was all an act? You're so damn self-centered.” As you went through all of his flaws, your hands unbuttoned his dressing shirt, making sure to feel every ridge and bump in his abs.

“But it helped you grow, didn't it? I always knew you had potential.” Synchronically, he took off your blouse, exposing your bare breasts to his hungry eyes.

“Bullshit. You just wanted to mess my life.”

“What makes you think I have the time to go around making everyone miserable?” His palms slid against the curve of your hips, bringing warmth to the covered skin. “I only accepted to meet you because you had talent. You still have.”

“Should I start pouring alcohol in your drinks?” It seemed far easier to be with him with the effects of alcohol freeing him from his cocky facade.

“I do still believe the piece you wanted me to wear was horrendous.” You lightly slapped his face in response, getting off him to slide your trousers, as well as your underwear, down the length of your legs. “You should be a model instead of a designer.” He praised sincerely, to which you only scoffed.

“Take off your shirt, won't you?”

As soon as there was no piece of cloth covering his perfect body, your body crashed against his, enjoying the feeling of skin against skin. His playful hands made sure to memorize every inch of you, from the stretch marks on your hips to the soft lobes of your ears. He pushed his length inside you, bottoming out before grinding against you.

“T-ten.” You whimpered oh so prettily, he could do nothing but quicken his pace to hear more of your pleads.

“Let’s make another bet, shall we?” Your face was scrunched up in pleasure, nodding absentmindedly. “Whoever cums first has to comply to the other’s desires. Sounds fair?”

“Whatever, just keep going.” Your back was arched, chest glued to his as your high threatened to run over you like a train. How long had it been since you last had sex? Two years, perhaps?

“Fuck.” He cursed before his seed spurted all over your walls, the sudden halt to his movements making you whine. “Wait.” He slipped out of you, using his fingers to please you as your hands tugged the bedsheets. His thumb over your clit was all it took for you to release, beads of his and your cum dripping down your hole painfully slow.

“Y-you...” You were running low on air, trying to recover from the blissful sensation that was just now abandoning your body. “You lost.”

“And what do you want me to do?” He sucked on your collarbone, hard enough to leave a purple mark for only your eyes to see.

“Sign a contract with me to model for three collections.”

“You’re so boring.” Yet, he accepted.

Anything that allowed him to spend time with you was a good excuse.

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #wayv #wayv angst #wayv smut #wayv scenarios #wayv x reader #wayv imagines #wayv ten

[woogyu]

fluffy idol!woozi with 13+30 please~

13. Stop being so cute

30. I'm not jealous! It's just... you're mine!

»»————-　♡　————-««​

notes; I took this one in a slightly different direction, but hope you enjoy!!

Thank you for requesting!!

wc; 1151

Drabble Game Requests | OPEN | Drabble Prompts; fluff | angst | funny

»»————-　♡　————-««

Having a world-famous K-pop idol as your best friend wasn’t always easy… actually, it was rarely easy. There were so many different ways that things could go wrong, from dating rumours to drama to really a whole collection of bad situations. That being said, you really wouldn’t change it for the entire world.

When Jihoon started training you feared that you would never get to see him again, your best friend since the two of you were in diapers. You worried that he would change, move on and forget all about you. But that didn’t happen, he was still your best friend and idol on the side.

It was really by chance that you started helping him with songs, offering a comment here or there. Eventually, you started writing them on your own on top of working with him. Sometimes the songs were just for fun, sometimes he would use them in their albums. You loved being able to contribute in any way you could, and the extra time spent with him down in the studio wasn’t half bad either. You spent a lot of your nights down in his studio, either just hanging out or working on music. You loved time with Jihoon because of how calming it was, he made you feel like you were at home. Though, sometimes you did enjoy spending time with his other friends.

It was impossible not to get to know them from the amount of time you spent around Jihoon. While at first, you were a little shy around the new, and loud, pack of boys, you quickly grew to think of them as family.

“Kim Mingyu if you throw that blue shell at me, I’m.” you started, gritting your teeth as you struggled to keep yourself in first place.

“You’ll what?” he challenged, sending the shell flying straight toward you just before the finish line. You went from first to sixth in an instant. You looked over to the tall boy sitting next to you, shoving him as you fixed him with a glare.

“Now that was just cruel.” You mumbled, pouting as you watched his character do a victory lap.

“All is fair in Mario Kart,” he shrugged, hitting a few buttons on the screen to bring it back to the main screen.

“Let’s go-“ you started before the door opened behind you, cutting off your statement to play around round.

“y/n, I thought we were going to work on that new song?” Jihoon’s voice questioned. You looked back at him and checked the time, you hadn’t even realized how late it was.

“Sorry Ji, I totally lost track of time” you admitted, standing up and gathering your things. Before leaving the room, you glared at Mingyu.

“This is not over.” You promised the male, earning only a chuckle and roll of the eyes in response.

“Since when do you and Mingyu hang out?” Jihoon asked as you followed him down into his studio. You weren’t expecting that question, he never seemed to mind when you hung around the others in his group.

“Ever since we argued over who would win in Mario Kart.” You explained, face souring as you thought about him beating you. “We are currently 20-22 and I can’t let him win.” You grumbled, fist-clenching as you slid into the familiar computer chair. He picked at his nails, watching you but didn’t respond.

“Sorry I was late, I got caught up in the game…but why ask about me a Mingyu?” you wondered, pursing your lips as you watched your best friend. You could tell from his stiff body language that there was something bothering him. “Mr. Lee Jihoon isn’t jealous of me hanging out with someone else, are you?” you questioned teasingly, figuring that might force him to tell you what was on his mind. You had known him long enough to know when you had to push him to share his thoughts.

“I’m not jealous!” he exclaimed, his eyes flashing to yours as he grimaced. You raised an eyebrow in question. “It’s just… you’re mine!” he mumbled, looking away as your eyebrows shot up. Well, you were not expecting that.

“You looked like you were having so much fun and I just… I don’t want to lose you…” he whispered. You could tell how hard it was for him to admit that.

“You’re not going to lose me Ji” you reminded him, bumping his shoulder as you gave him a grin. “You’re still my best friend,” you said, watching as his eyes flicked over to yours.

“I know I’m busy most of the time, but I like having you down here.” He said, running a hand back through his hair.

“Sorry… for lashing out like that. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been stressed out lately and took it out on you...” he mumbled, sighing as he ran his hands over his eyes. You smiled watching him. Jihoon didn’t open up easily, he didn’t share his feelings if he could help it. You hated when he closed in on himself.

“I’m sorry too, for pushing you to talk about it.” You admitted, he had only lashed out because of your comment.

“It’s just… you’re allowed to talk to me when something is bothering you,” you told him. The last thing you wanted was there to be some invisible wall between the two of you.

“I’ll work on it” he relented, leaning back into his chair as he stared up at the ceiling. “I just don’t want to say the wrong thing and push you away” he admitted, closing his eyes. He was always worrying about something; he had been like that since you were kids. Most people thought he was just quiet and cold, but you knew he just got caught up in his own thoughts a lot of the time.

“Stop being so cute” you grinned, watching as he cracked a smile and turned toward you. “Do you want me to kick you out of here? It is my studio you know” he teased. You huffed and crossed your arms, turning your head away from him. “You’ll have to drag me out” you declared, sinking lower into the chair.

“You’re on a chair that rolls” he deadpanned, watching as you quickly grabbed the edge of the desk. “And what about it?” you shot back, laughing as he used his foot to try and push you toward the door.

“So… we’re okay?” he asked after a few moments, his eyes a little hesitant.

“Lee Jihoon you’ve been stuck with me since we were kids and I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon,” you told him definitively, watching as an amused smile spread over his features.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way” he responded. You knew no matter what life decided to throw at the two of you that you would always have each other.

#caratwritersclub #woozi imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #woozi #lee jihoon #jihoon imagines #seventeen fanfic #woozi fanfic #jihoon fanfic #seventeen #svt #seventeen drabble game #seventeen fluff #woozi fluff

[sly-merlin]

GOT PLAYED | JENO

Hello mam can I request a lawyer jeno scenario where reader (gender neutral so everyone can read) is a prosecutor and they are in the same court together

Lawyer Boyfriend jeno , gender neutral lawyer reader

Genre : fluff with nonsense bickering

Words: 1.5k

a/n: jeno is a big boi now! Happy jeno-ing!! Also the terms used are local to my country. It may vary in your state.

----

your butt was itching to dance out in the centre of the courtroom. Clicking your forefinger on the watch, you observed the lovely minute hand completing another circle, indicating the approaching end of the waiting time. The opposing party being a minute more late would mean nothing but good news for your client, resulting in another victory for you.

But when had you ever won anything without a little struggle! As the clock on the wall hit 11, the door of the room opened and across the room stood Jeno, breathing heavily like he had been running since hours. You rolled your eyes at his awful timing. He handed over his briefcase to his client and wore his blazer hurriedly while simultaneously bowing to the judge in deference and apology. The judge, disregarding his gesture with his hand called him to the front. You got up as well, in annoyance of course. You had very much hoped for his car to have punctured on its way but it seemed like he needed to get on your nerves even in the court as well. standing beside him, you couldn’t help but notice the wrinkles on the right side of his blazer. The oddity puzzled you at first but suddenly, with a subtle glare from his side, you were made aware of the reason behind his change of clothes. Not wearing the ones that you steam ironed last night was a show of anger towards you, even if it made him look like a fool in front of the whole chamber.

“a minute late and I’d have passed an interlocutory order against your client Mr.lee” breaking your trance, the judge warned him. He bowed again and mumbled a mannerly apology, the like of which you deserved too.

“today the hearing would start with the counter evidence of the defendant side, that is,” he sifted through the list of the evidence provided beforehand, “the bank records of both the parties. Please proceed advocate lee”

“yes, your honour. As I explained in a previous hearing, my client, mrs. Shin has been working as a manager of the Kwon industries since 14 years. On the other hand, mr. shin started a poker business with the money she used to save up for their only son’s future. All the transactions from her personal accounts to mr. shin’s were innocently carried out by her as she was kept under a false impression regarding the use of her money, which she never would have allowed in her right mind. The proof of these transfers is the evidence I’m going to present that is the receipts and annual reports.”

The urge to smack his tongue for the lies it told was uncontrollable but you breathed in. you inhaled all the bitterness back to your throat and stood there like an obedient child with a face ridden of any expressions.

After what felt like minutes, you snapped your head in his direction to notice the browsing he was doing in his briefcase. The questionable look on his face drew a smirk into your own as you understood the sensitiveness of the matter in hand. He forgot. The papers!

Throwing your charitable side out of the door, you turned towards the judge,

“it seems like the opposing counsel has nothing to produce, your honour.”

You felt his clenching jaw and irritated eyes.

“mr. lee, if you are unable to proceed then i’ll have to pass a maintenance order against your client.”

“no!” he interrupted, “that would be unfair to this poor lady sir. don’t penalise her for my negligence. The evidence can turn the course of this whole case. if you may, I’d request another date-

“he’s going to forget again. He forgets everything these days” before you could control, you spit out.

The judge didn’t seem to be impressed by your uncalled interruption so he warned you to speak only when allowed. But with a mouth as big as his, jeno never knew what resistance meant so he remarked,

“and my dear friend here forgets the ethics of a courtroom, disrespecting seniors like this! There is not much difference between us then I must say.”

Your lip twitched at the not so subtle mention of the fight you had in the morning, right before the breakfast. Now you were adamant on proving that no matter the place and circumstances, you were definitely not similar to him in any way.

“disrespecting and raising matters of importance are two varied things and my dear counsel should be reading those ethic rules for himself as he’s the one jeopardising the position of his client in the court due to his own manners. I request the court to grant mr. shin all the rights to his properties that mrs. Shin had seized years ago. He’s a disabled man and he cannot work by himself and the lack of evidence is a clear indication that the defendants are just trying to waste the time of the court. Along with the rights of the properties, a lawful possession of the house and maintenance charges are also requested. All the claims can be found on the page 15 of the-

“I object, your honour. I am accepting my mistake. This woman deserves a second chance. My junior was sick and since he has no near and dear in this town, I had to go and care for him. in the hurry, I forgot the papers at home. It was not delibra-

“what if you don’t remember this next time either? Until then my client is going to suffer in a small and stinky apartment and all because of your carelessness.”

“I’m not careless,” He whispered yelled.

“yes,” now facing him, you said, arms crossed in front of you torso, “a man who can’t even hold a mug properly shouldn’t be the one talking about-

“you started it by smashing the music box. It was a gift by jaemin. I bet you did it deliberately too!”

“I was sleep walking! I apologised already! There was no need to break my favourite mug you bit-

The sound of gavel reverberated in the small family courtroom, snapping both of you in the reality.

You gulped slightly, eyes boring into jeno’s but with unknown fear. In an instant, the worst consequences of blunder you both had knowingly-unknowingly committed flashed across your eyes and you both whirled around, backs bent like you both never knew what a straight spine ever looked like!

“keep your personal and professional life separate or choose the one most suitable. The court is adjourned for two days. You both shall be heavily fined for your inappropriate behaviour. Next time, I won’t be lenient. Collect your slips from the clerk.”

Apologising verbally, you took your leave.

Standing outside, you waited for the lunch time to pass so you could pay the fine. you were mad at jeno but more than him, you were furious with yourself for losing your direction. You had done exactly what you were trying to accuse jeno of in the court.

Your eyes were closed in regret when you felt soft lips on your forehead.

Smiling widely, jeno stood there as if he hadn’t been scolded for the unprofessionalism just a few hours ago.

“don’t talk to me.” You uttered, lowering your gaze.

“awww! Look how easy it is to rile you up. Thank you though”

unsure of what he said, you asked,

“for what?”

“for fighting with me! Your bickering saved my ass. The old man was going to decide the case but your cute brain worked at the wrong time! Now I have two days to turn all my lies into a living truth. All because of you my darling.”

“what the fuck I’m gonna ki-

“yeah yeah. kiss me all you want when we are home. Be professional here!” he breathed out. “how about I treat you to a nice meal to return the favour.”

Chest heaving up and down, you looked him dead in the eye, his revelations not sounding too amusing to your ears. Raising your hand up and waving the fine slip in front of him, you challenged,

“I dare you to repeat this again and I promise you wont get enough time to regret it!”

Not that you actually expected him to cry in front of you in intimidation, a hearty laugh from his body wasn’t anticipated either.

“what the fuck je-

You were once again cut off by his lips that met your cheek in a wet kiss, lasting too long for a public setting.

You hated the way he loved testing your patience.

Moving his soft lips from your cheek to your ear, he sighed before murmuring in an indecently low voice,

“you better get a new music box before jaemin visits me or I know how to make you regret your actions.”

Unmoved, you stared at him with doe eyes. He walked away before returning back only to snatch the paper slip from your hands.

“I’ll pay and sign. Go have lunch. Try to finish early today, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Innocently smiling, he left as if everything that had happened was nothing but delusion. And you hated the way he knew you like the back of his hand. But you were going to make sure he lost this one to you. Once and forever.

#nct-writers #kafenetwork #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno x reader #jeno fluff #nct reactions #nct x reader #nct drabbles #nct smut #jeno smut #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #lee jeno #jeno blurbs #nct soft hours #jeno fanfic #nct fanfic