#(Honestly I’ve been typing this for a while because i had to REALLY think of the way she sees Pokemon Battles) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crdteezv · 3 months ago

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His #1 Fan - Haechan

Pairing: !idol! Haechan x perv loser fangirl! gf! reader

Genre: idol! au, smut

Synopsis: You told him you were just a fan. But behind closed doors? You were obsessed—saving every fancam, moaning his name into your pillow, and running a secret fan account filled with god knows what. Haechan never suspected a thing… until he came home early and found it all. And now that he knows what you really are?

A pervert.

Warnings: smut. !mean/hard dom! haechan, loser/perv sub!reader, reader has an unhealthy obsession with him and is lowkey creepy at times… mutual masturbation, phone sex?, size kink, oral (giving), fingering (receiving), sex toy use, pillow humping, HEAVY humiliation and degradation, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 5.4k words

A/N: Fair warning—this fic is pretty disturbing, and if you’re not comfortable with any of the tags above, please refrain from reading. This one’s way more intense than most of what I’ve written before.

Also, sorry for disappearing for months… I had zero motivation to write until now!!

AND I did not forget about the NCT prompt requests!! A bunch of them are still in the works, so keep an eye out

You were a fan first. Always.

You’d been following Haechan for years. Not casually. Not like one of those girls who watches a few stages and thinks she’s obsessed because she knows his birthday and blood type. No. You were deep into it. Sick with it. You're the kind of fan people make callout threads about.

You studied him.

Every stage outfit—categorized by tour, color scheme, and accessory. Every fancam—even the shaky, blurry 360p ones where the mic check overshadowed his voice—downloaded, backed up, renamed, and stored in folders sorted by era, hair color, etc. You had tags for expressions like his smirks or lip bites. Livestreams were recorded the second they went up, even the ones that got deleted halfway through. You had them saved forever.

You had clips titled things like "his moan???" and “rude ass stare.mp4.” You watched them on loop.

You came to them.

At first, you told yourself it wasn’t that bad. You weren’t trying to date him. You didn’t want to be his girlfriend. You wanted to be fucked. Used.

You wanted to be some stupid little fan he could bend over the edge of a hotel bed and ruin—nothing but a warm hole to fuck until your throat was raw from moaning and your legs were too weak to stand.

Your private account—@haebrainrot606—was the place where you said all the shit you’d never admit aloud.

he laughs like he knows i’d let him use my throat if he asked

i just know he gives the craziest head i want his face shoved in between my legs

i want to make a mess on his thigh and ride it till i cry

The tweet that went viral wasn’t even your worst one.

i want him to ignore me while he jerks off. just use my mouth. don’t even look at me

15k likes.. People were going crazy in the replies. No one knew who you were. You never posted your face. But your followers? They knew. They understood. They were sick just like you.

You weren’t a fan.

You were a pervert.

And you were fine with that.

Until it stopped being a fantasy.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You were working some nothing backstage job at a music show—wrangling cables, keeping your head down, trying not to get caught staring. You tried not to stare too hard when he walked by.

But he saw you.

He looked at you.

Really looked.

He asked for your name, then asked if you were free that weekend—and you said yes, way too quickly. You went out that weekend, nervous as hell, trying not to shake through the whole thing. You lied—told him you liked his group, but that you weren’t really into K-pop like that. You tried to act cool, like you weren’t always imagining him bending you over in one of the backstage closets and fucking you raw.

He honestly thought you were cute.

You started dating not long after.

Nobody knew. Not the fans. Not your friends. Not your mutuals on Twitter who’d die if they found out the girl thirst-tweeting about getting face-fucked by Haechan was actually dating him.

He didn’t know either.

Not about the account. Not about the folder on your phone marked simply “H.” Not about the screenshots of his hands or the dozens of clips of his hips during choreography. Not about the draft in your Notes app describing him bending you over his kitchen table and muttering, “Don’t fucking speak unless it’s to beg.”

He didn’t know you got off to them. Regularly.

He had no idea you watched his fancams with a vibrator pressed to your cunt. That sometimes you got so high on him, you ignored his texts just to ride your own hand through another orgasm.

He thought you were shy.

He thought you were sweet. Innocent.

He thought you missed him when he went on tour because you loved him.

You did. That part was true.

But you also missed the weight of his cock on your tongue. The way he grunted when you gagged around him. The way he groaned—low and casual, like he didn’t even realize it. You missed how sometimes—just sometimes—he’d look at you while you were on your knees like you’d pissed him off, like he was two seconds away from saying ‘shut the fuck up and take it.’

You missed that look.

You loved him so much it made you sick. Loved the way he touched you like you were breakable. Like he was holding back. Loved the weight of his body over yours, slow and deep, fucking the air from your lungs one thrust at a time.

You wanted him to know.

You wanted to show him the account. Scroll through every tweet. Every draft. Every voice note of his moaning that you looped until your thighs were slick and your sheets were ruined.

You wanted him to snap.

You were soaking, just thinking about it.

His hoodie clung to your skin, black and oversized, still heavy with his cologne. You had your vibrator in one hand, your phone in the other. Fancam loaded. Volume low.

You rolled onto your stomach, shoved a pillow under your hips, and tucked the vibe against your clit.

You were already wet. The second it pulsed, your breath stuttered. The buzz vibrated through your spine, soft and relentless. Your hips rolled down into it, desperate for pressure, for anything.

The screen showed him on stage—sweat-soaked, hair messy, jean jacket clinging to his shoulders. He was practically fucking the air, like the audience wasn’t even there—like the lights, the screams, none of it mattered. His eyes stayed locked straight ahead, jaw clenched, hips grinding with that same brutal rhythm, like he was already inside someone. Like he knew you were out there, watching him lose control—and wishing it was you he was doing it to.

And God, his face. That smirk. Those eyes.

You pressed the vibe harder.

Your moan slipped out soft and broken. Your thighs clenched. You moved against it, slow and messy, your slick coating the pillow underneath you. You didn’t care. Your body was already curling, every nerve drawn tight.

“Fuck…”

The moan echoed through your room, quiet but desperate.

Your mind filled with his voice—imaginary, yet it felt so real

“You’re really humping a pillow, baby?”

You gasped. Your hips bucked. Your hands twisted in the sheets.

“You get off to me like this every night, huh?”

You did.

And you were so close.

“Fucking pathetic.”

You came fast and hard—legs twitching, hips jerking, body trembling.

But the shame didn’t stick.

Because you weren’t done.

You didn’t want to be done.

You turned the vibe higher. Pressed it back against your clit.

You were sobbing. Moaning through it. Guttural, aching sounds you couldn’t even bite back.

You couldn’t stop. Couldn’t breathe.

And then—

Your phone rang.

Your whole body jerked. The vibrator still buzzed mercilessly against your clit.

Caller ID lit up the screen.

Haechan ♥️

Your heart dropped. Your brain fried.

You stared. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

And then you answered.

“Hi,” you gasped, voice hoarse and fucked-out.

Silence.

A pause.

Then his voice came through the line, low and smug, and knowing.

“You sound fucked out already.”

You choked on air.

“That for me?”

You whimpered. A sound so broken it wasn’t even a word.

He laughed.

And that was when you realized—he knew.

“Jesus, baby,” Haechan said, voice soaked in disbelief. “You miss me that bad?”

You nodded before you remembered he couldn’t see you. Tried to speak, but your throat clenched around the sound. The vibrator was still humming against your swollen clit—slow, cruel pulses dragging you up and down the edge like it had all the time in the world to make you suffer.

“What are you doing right now?” His voice dropped, smoother and a little darker now. “Tell me.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t even breathe, let alone form words. Shame burned through your face, your chest, all the way down to your trembling thighs.

He clicked his tongue—sharp, almost condescending.

“Oh my god. Are you actually touching yourself right now?”

The orgasm that had been teasing at your spine flared hotter.

“I didn’t think you were serious. You really can’t help yourself, huh?” he murmured, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Bet you’ve been humping that sad little pillow of yours like it’s my thigh.”

You choked on a moan.

He heard it.

“Aw, baby. You’re so fucking gross.”

He wasn’t mad. That was the worst part. He sounded fond and weirdly amused. Like the whole thing was endearing—your soaked sheets, your ruined underwear, your whimpers breaking apart in the back of your throat.

“You got the vibe still on?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you gasped. “Still—still on—”

“How long have you been like this?”

You had to think. Or maybe just lie.

“An h-hour?” It came out small. Shaky. Fragile.

He exhaled through a soft laugh—dark, amused, and just a little breathless.

“Jesus Christ.” A pause. “Did you cum already?”

You hesitated.

“…Twice.”

His groan bled into the speaker. It was quiet, low, and raw. It sounded like it had slipped past his teeth before he could hold it back.

“Fuck. You’re obsessed.”

You whimpered again, full-body tremble, everything clenched and aching and tight.

“Say it,” he said, voice cutting like a blade between your ribs. “Say what you want.”

You wanted to tell him you’d been jerking off to his fancams, but instead, you just said, “I want you to use me,” the words spilling out all at once, your voice cracking. “I want you to know how desperate I am. Please, Haechan, I want to be yours, I want—”

Your breath caught in your throat. The vibrator ground against your clit like it wanted to break you, and your whole body tensed with a cry.

“Keep going,” he breathed. “Let me hear you, baby.”

You didn’t know what you were saying anymore. It poured out of you—shameless and breathless.

“I think about your dick every night. I dream about your voice, your fingers, the way you fuck—rough, mean, fast—I want you to choke me—”

You screamed as it hit you.

Your orgasm exploded through your spine, brutal and unstoppable. You bit your own arm to keep from sobbing out loud. Your legs locked up, your hips twitched, and your cunt throbbed around nothing, dripping slick down your thighs and into the ruined pillow beneath you.

The vibrator kept buzzing.

Too much.

You clawed at it, yanked it away with shaky fingers, body twitching uncontrollably. You were soaked. The pillow beneath you was drenched. You couldn’t see straight and your vision blurred,

He was still on the line.

You heard him breathing slowly and steadily.

“…Are you okay?” he asked finally, voice wrecked. Like he’d been jerking off the whole time and was pretending not to.

You nodded, then laughed, the sound breaking apart halfway through.

“No,” you exclaimed. “I’m fucking exhausted now.”

He let out a breathy laugh at your response; he found it cute—how easily you fell apart, how quickly you turned into a desperate, needy mess just for him.

“I’m coming home in two days, by the way,” he said, tone soft but heavy, like a warning, like a promise.

You swallowed hard.

“You better be ready.”

You weren’t.

Not even close.

Two days later, he didn’t knock.

No warning. No text. No call.

He just walked in.

You were curled up in his bed, legs folded beneath you, phone glowing in your hand, face buried in his pillow like you were trying to smother yourself with the scent of him.

The same video played on your screen. The one you’d watched too many times. Him in the clear box. Sweating, smirking, thrusting so deep into the air it felt personal. The volume was too high. His voice filled the room—hot and arrogant and cocky—and you were too far gone to notice the door.

But you heard his voice in real time.

“What the fuck is this?”

Your blood ran cold.

You turned slowly. Almost robotically. Like maybe if you didn’t move too fast, you could lie your way out of it.

He stood in the doorway. Still. Calm.

Too calm.

His eyes tracked everything— your flustered expression, your soaked panties half-pulled down your thighs, the spent vibrator glowing faintly at your side. And your phone. Playing him.

You moved too late.

He was already crossing the room, grabbing the phone out of your hand. You didn’t even have time to blink.

He saw everything.

The tweets. The clips. The saved voice notes. The smut drafts in your Notes app.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

His thumb flicked across your screen.

Then he read one out loud.

“‘I want to be manhandled by Haechan so bad.’” His gaze snapped up. “Wow.”

You opened your mouth.

Nothing came out.

He scrolled again.

“‘I want him to use me so bad I don’t give a fuck anymore.’” His head tilted slightly. He looked almost impressed.

“Damn, baby.”

You scrambled. “It’s not—I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean what?” he cut in, voice sharp now. “Didn’t think I’d find out?”

You fell silent.

He laughed. A single, low sound, cold and amused.

“All this time,” he said, stepping closer, eyes scanning your face like you were something he didn’t quite recognize. “You’ve been getting off to me in secret. Watching me over and over, like my fancams were made to feed your obsession. Lying to my face. Playing innocent.”

He stepped closer, phone still in his hand, and you instinctively backed up against the headboard.

“You’ve been jerking off to me like a fucking pervert. Fucking your pillow like a bitch in heat. Did you even want me, or did you just want to get off?”

You whimpered. Shook your head. But it was useless.

He was already reaching for you, already grabbing your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks until your lips parted with a soft gasp.

“You’re fucking lucky I like you.”

Then he climbed onto the bed, knees pinning your thighs down, eyes flashing with something darker than desire.

You couldn’t look at him. Your eyes stayed down, body trembling like it knew what was coming.

“I—I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice barely a thread.

“Oh, baby,” he muttered, dark amusement curling through every syllable. “You’re gonna be.”

He dropped your phone onto the bed with a loud, deliberate thud—screen still lit, still open to your account—and you flinched like it’d struck you.

Then his hand was on you.

Fingers curled under your chin, rough and possessive, tilting your face up until you couldn’t look anywhere but him. His grip was firm, his eyes burning with something far beyond anger.

“You ever think about telling me?”

All you could do was swallow hard; your throat tightened, and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him.

“You were gonna take that little account to the grave, huh?”

Still nothing.

He scoffed, like he already knew. Like he’d already read every tweet, every caption, every sick little reply.

And then—without warning—he yanked his hoodie off your body. The fabric dragged across your skin as you gasped, arms instinctively crossing over your chest like you could shield yourself from his gaze.

Pointless.

You were bare underneath. Exposed.

He looked at you slowly as if he was analyzing you.

And everything in his face changed.

His anger didn’t even go away. It just shifted into something colder, hungrier. His eyes darkened, dragging slowly and deliberately down the length of your body, lingering at the subtle twitch of your thighs. His gaze caught where your slick had already started to spill, glistening at your swollen cunt—leaking like you were begging without words.

He looked at you like it was the first time—like he was finally seeing you the way you’ve always seen yourself.

“You were jerking off to me just now, weren’t you?” he asked, voice low, deadly calm.

Your face burned. “Y-Yes.”

He didn’t even blink. “You’re sick.”

You nodded. “I know.”

He stepped closer, closing the space between you in one stride. One hand reached for the back of your neck, gripping tight, fingers splayed wide, ownership in his touch.

“You’ve been jerking off to me every night like some pathetic loser,” he growled, pulling you close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. “You moan into your pillows while touching yourself to the thought of me. You even write your dirty little fanfics and tweet things you’d never dare say to my face—still acting like you’re not already mine.”

“But I-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “I’m not done.”

You shut it.

His eyes dropped again, scanning your trembling thighs, the way your fingers twitched at your sides. The way your body was begging without saying a word.

“You couldn’t wait two days?” he muttered. “Two fucking days without touching yourself like a slut?”

You shook your head, barely breathing.

A slow, dangerous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“No self-control,” he whispered.

His hand drifted from your throat, down over your chest, between the curve of your tits, across your stomach, slow enough to make you tremble.

“You like this,” he said. “Being caught? Being humiliated?”

You opened your mouth to answer.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“…Yes,” you whispered, throat tight. “I do.”

His fingers skimmed your thighs, teasing the inside, not touching where you needed him—just grazing, just letting you squirm.

“Now you’re gonna sit here,” he said, voice rough. “And you’re gonna watch me go through that little fan account of yours. Every tweet. Every thread. Every disgusting thought you’ve had about my dick.”

You nodded quickly, breath hitching.

The second he told you to drop—you did. Your knees hit the floor like it was second nature to you.

He didn’t waste time.

Didn’t even look at you for long. Just unzipped his pants, pulled his cock out—hard, angry-looking, flushed to the tip like it took every tweet personally.

“Open,” he ordered.

You opened your mouth, and he shoved his cock past your lips without hesitation. No warm-up, no mercy. Just thick, heavy weight pushing into your throat like you were nothing but a hole to fuck. You choked immediately, lips stretching wide, spit spilling down your chin.

Both hands tangled in your hair as he held your head in place. Then he started to move.

“Let’s see if you suck dick as good as you tweet about it.”

You gagged, eyes watering. You tried to keep up—to breathe through your nose, relax your throat—but he didn’t give you the chance. He used you. Fucked into your mouth like he owned it.

When your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering, he chuckled darkly.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” he muttered, pulling you back just far enough to watch the spit stretch from your lips to his cock. “You like this. You like being used.”

You nodded, tears sliding down your cheeks, spit dripping down to your chest. You were shaking.

“It’s pathetic.”

He shoved your head down again, and you took it. Gagged, swallowed around it. And he still didn’t stop.

He grabbed your phone with one hand and started scrolling again—Like your sobbing throat and strangled gags were nothing more than background noise to him, just his new favorite sound.

Your head already bobbing, spit-slick and twitching from every shove, every taunting roll of his hips like he was trying to bruise your esophagus on purpose. He had one hand tangled in your hair, the other casually lifting your phone, thumb swiping upward as if your tears pooling down his thighs weren’t even worth acknowledgment.

"Oh, what’s this one say?" he mused, even as you spluttered, spit bubbling around his shaft. He tilted the phone slightly, screen lighting his cheek with that faint glow.

"'If he looked at me like that we’re fucking in that box in front of everyone I don't give af.'"

He barked a laugh and shoved his hips forward—not hard, just deep, intentional, burying himself until your throat was full of him and nothing else. Until your nose was pressed up against his happy trail and your eyes blurred with tears.

"Did you actually tweet this? " he taunted, holding the phone up, showing you the exact fancam—the fancam that you came to so many times.—paused right on that moment. His own eyes staring into the camera, pupils dark, jaw tight, every muscle in his body glistening in that glass box during that impossible performance. He hadn’t broken eye contact once with the lens, and you knew it. You’d watched it a hundred times. You tweeted about it.

He thrust again and your whole body jolted, a garbled whimper dragging out of your chest as he tapped the screen, watching himself lock eyes with the camera. With you. Over and over. That same unrelenting stare.

"Fucking in that box in front of everyone, huh?" he repeated, half-laughing now, breathless from how tight your throat clamped down when he quoted you. “God, you’re such a slut… wanting me to fuck you in front of all those people.”

You tried to breathe, tried to speak, but he just rocked into your mouth again, harder this time, making your shoulders hitch and your lungs beg. The phone was still in his hand, still glowing, still showing the loop of him staring into your soul.

“Bet you only said that so everyone would know I belong to you.”

God, he was so right.

You liked the idea of every single one of his fans, your mutuals, your followers, the whole damn world—watching that fancam and reading your tweets and knowing none of them could ever have him. Because he belonged to you. And more than that, you belonged to him.

You were his favorite fangirl.

Your whole body jerked, trembling. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room as your throat fought to accommodate all of him and failed, again and again.

You were choking. He was scrolling. Perfect harmony.

His expression twisted, something between disgusted and turned on.

Then he pulled out with a wet pop, shoving your head aside like you were nothing more than a toy for him to use.

“On the bed.”

You scrambled up, legs barely working, knees weak as you crawled onto the mattress—still damp from earlier, still smelling like your last orgasm. You lay back, legs spread wide, open like muscle memory.

He stared.

Then smacked your clit.

Hard.

You screamed, body arching, hands fisting the sheets.

“You’re soaking just from me being mean to you?” he scoffed. “God, you’re such a fucking loser.”

Then he sank two fingers inside you—deep, rough, fast.

No warning.

They curled immediately, stroking the spot that made you jerk with a cry, your whole body thrumming with need.

You tried to breathe. Tried to stay still. But he was relentless—crooked fingers, wet sounds, his thumb grazing your clit just enough to drive you mad.

He leaned in close, voice pouring into your ear.

“All those dirty little posts?” he whispered. “All those disgusting tweets? You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”

You whimpered.

“You’re a fucking perv.”

He grabbed your phone again, still open on the mattress, still glowing.

“Let’s see what else my number-one fan’s been up to…”

He read aloud, slow and mocking.

“‘God, his hands are so pretty I just wish he could shove them deep inside and not stop no matter how many times I tell him to.’”

He looked at you, smirking. “My hands, baby? Out of everything? That’s what gets you off?”

You couldn’t speak. You were too far gone. Too humiliated.

“You’re such a pervert for me.”

His fingers moved faster. Wet. Unforgiving. Fucking into you with no rhythm, no care—just force and pleasure. Until your legs started shaking and your walls clenched tight and you felt yourself teetering again.

And then—

He stopped.

Pulled out.

You sobbed. A broken, desperate sound.

He clicked his tongue. “Oh, princess. You really thought I’d let you cum after all that gross things you wrote about me?”

You shook your head, begged silently, grinding against nothing.

“You don’t deserve shit from me.”

He unzipped his pants again, pulled his cock out, slapped it against your clit once—twice—just to watch your hips jerk. Your back arched. You needed him. Needed it.

“Mmm, baby,” he said, voice honey-thick and mocking. “Look at it. The cock you’ve been tweeting about. The one you came to.”

Then he flipped you onto your stomach, shoved your face into the mattress, and fucked into you in one vicious, brutal thrust.

You screamed.

“You don’t even deserve to be fucked like this,” he snarled, hips already slamming into yours. “But I’m gonna do it anyway.”

You cried out again. Again. Every thrust shoved you further into the bed, stretched you wider, fucked you raw. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“God, listen to you,” he groaned. “You’re dripping down my cock, baby. Fucking soaked. All for me.”

The sheets smelled like him. Like cologne, sweat, and sex. It was overwhelming. It was perfect.

You couldn’t stop shaking.

Your orgasm was building again.

“Aww, don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already,” he said, voice low. “We barely fucking started.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even form a sound. You didn’t even hear him anymore—his constant taunts and teasing were a blur. All you could feel was his cock pounding into you and your orgasm building like a scream in your throat. All that registered now was the relentless rhythm of his cock slamming into you, slick and punishing, hitting that spot again and again with no mercy, no slowing, no breath between thrusts. Your body wasn't keeping up, and your brain had left hours ago.

And then it hit.

The orgasm came without warning—sudden, blinding, violent. Muscles clamped tight around his cock, walls spasming uncontrollably, thighs shaking as the wave surged through your core and stole every breath. Stars bloom into your vision, and you feel yourself getting dizzy. A scream tore from your throat, raw and broken, muffled into the sheets as your entire body trembled and shook. The convulsions came hard, hips jolting, knees knocking into his without rhythm, and still—he didn’t stop.

He grunted. Slowed just enough to mock you.

“God,” he hissed, breathless, looking down at the mess you’d become. “You’re so fucking gross. You really came that fast?”

Just grabbed your aching body and flipped you over like a ragdoll, letting you bounce onto your back, eyes glassy, lips trembling.

“Now it’s my turn.”

And you didn’t get to breathe. Not even once.

He shoved into you in a single, brutal thrust, hips slamming against yours with obscene wet heat. You squealed—sharp and involuntary, a high-pitched gasp that twisted into a choked sob. Your legs instinctively locked around him, thighs clenching at his waist, your arms snapping up around his neck as your whole body reacted with desperate need. He filled you, absolutely filled you, cock stretching your sore pussy wide open again with zero warning, and it was too much.

“Fuck—” he groaned, pressing his chest flush to yours, his entire weight pinning you down into the bed. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t even lift your head. His cock ground inside you, thick and brutal and unrelenting, while he buried his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of your sweat.

“You’re so fucking small under me,” he muttered, voice hoarse with lust, dragging his hips slow now, long, deliberate thrusts that made your back arch off the mattress. His cock slid in deep, too deep, forcing your body to take every inch like it had no choice.

You could barely breathe. He was suffocating you, swallowing your air, pinning your wrists back down with his hands wrapped tight around them like shackles. His broad shoulders caged you in like he wanted to drown you in him. His cock bullied your pussy with every thrust, splitting you open, dragging slick out of you with wet, squelching sounds that made your ears burn.

And you loved it.

You loved being held down. Loved the crushing weight of him on your body, the way his arms flexed over yours, how every part of you was forced to mold to him.

He started fucking harder. Hips snapping forward, slamming into you without rhythm, without restraint—just force. You cried out with each impact, your arms tightening around his neck, trying to anchor yourself to anything as he railed you into the mattress.

Then his mouth found your ear.

“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered, his voice soft and dangerous, like a knife against skin. “You were running a fan account the whole time.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, sweat dripping from his temple onto your flushed cheeks, hips slamming forward as he spoke. Each word landed with a violent thrust.

“All those pathetic little things you posted about me—every night—while I was already fucking you like this in my bed.”

You gasped, trying to stammer something, anything, but the air was gone, and so were your thoughts. His fingers gripped your jaw tightly, forcing your gaze back to his. His eyes were wild.

Possessive.

He than whispered in your ear “Don’t you think that’s a little fucking selfish?”

“I—I'm sorry—I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did," he cut you off, cock drilling into you harder, his voice thick with betrayal—and something darker. “You wanted both. You wanted to be my girlfriend and my #1 fan all at the same time. You wanted to write all that crazy shit about me and still look me in the eyes like nothing was wrong.”

Your body jolted as his cock slammed deeper, harder, shoving you up the bed until your head smacked into the headboard, breath ripped from your lungs.

“You’re mine,” he exclaimed. “You’ve always been mine. And no one gets to know that my biggest fan is a gross, pervy little slut I call my girlfriend.”

And that did it. Again.

Your orgasm ripped through you, violent and unstoppable. Your legs shook around him, your voice cracked in a hoarse, broken scream that you buried in his shoulder, teeth scraping skin. You clung to him like a lifeline as he fucked you through it—faster now, chasing his own release with those brutal, punishing thrusts that sent the bedframe banging against the wall.

Then you felt it.

The heat. The flood. His cock twitched hard inside you, buried to the hilt, as thick, his warm cum spilling deep into your cunt. He groaned into your mouth, kissing you like he wanted to drown in you, hips still twitching, grinding in lazy aftershocks as your body milked him for every drop.

You were full. Overstuffed. Sore, soaked, still trembling. His cum leaked out of you in hot, messy spurts, mixing with your slick on the sheets. You could feel the mess under you, the wet sound your bodies made every time he shifted slightly, still inside you, cock still hard.

He didn’t move. Just collapsed on top of you, chest heaving against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist like he didn’t care if you suffocated under him.

He stayed there.

You stayed under.

His cock twitched inside your pulsing cunt. Your heartbeat pounded against his ribs. You were nothing but a mess under him, and he loved it.

After a long silence, he reached over, his arm dragging lazily across the mattress, and grabbed your phone from where it had fallen off the bed earlier. He unlocked it without asking.

Scrolled.

Paused.

“I thought about it,” he said suddenly, voice low, husky. “But I don’t want you to delete your account.”

You blinked. Tried to process through the fog.

“…W-wait. What?”

“I said,” he repeated, eyes flicking to yours with that same glint of cruel amusement, “you should keep it.”

Your stomach dropped through the bed. You stared, eyes wide and raw. “No. No, wait—”

He leaned in close, mouth brushing yours with a smirk.

“Don’t get all shy now, baby,” he said with a low chuckle, eyes glinting. “Not after you posted that 43 tweet thread about how you’d let me facefuck you while I played League.”

You wanted to vanish, to die, to claw your way under the bed and disappear forever.

But he just kissed you again. Slow this time. Warm. Sickeningly sweet. Sinister.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against your lips. “Don’t worry.”

He pulled back and winked.

“Post whatever you want. Just know I’ll be watching…”

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dustandthought · 3 months ago

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PINKERTON'S FAVORITE WHORE

He Paid to Be Betrayed

I can’t stop thinking about that girl. That shot from the credits — where the Pinkertons approach her with a casual smile, while she’s servicing another client. I’m absolutely sure Charles had been with her more than once, not just during that mission in the Valentine saloon. We’re not shown everything, right? We don’t see how the gang members spend their downtime, when they go into town, who they spend it with.

I’m almost certain Charles wasn’t the only one. Half the guys in the gang clearly had a thing for whores. And that woman — that prostitute — I’m sure she was one of the people who gave information to the Pinkertons. Maybe even about Charles himself, though he managed to leave Beecher’s Hope. In the end, she definitely helped lead them to John.

Working girls don’t care what they get paid for — whether it’s to spread their legs or spill someone’s secrets. Especially if they get paid twice as much. And her clients — even Charles — couldn’t really hide their identity from her. Sure, he’s the quiet type, but if you watch that saloon scene before the cutscene triggers, you can clearly see him talking nonstop to the girls — his mouth never stops moving. We don’t hear any of it, but his lips are constantly moving, like he’s deep in conversation. Javier, by comparison, barely moves his mouth.

Prostitutes aren’t stupid. They take mental notes on their clients — who they are, how much they’re worth, and whether there’s more to gain than just cash. So here’s what I’m thinking… I once read this crackpot theory that Charles was the real rat in the gang. Probably a joke, because the arguments were like: “He drinks coffee. Dutch drinks coffee. Boom — traitor.” Seriously.

But my theory? The girls — the prostitutes — were the real rats. Or at least, they played a way bigger role than anyone realizes. Maybe that sounds even more insane, because I’ve got no hard evidence — except for that one frame in the credits, where she’s clearly giving information to the agents. Maybe not directly about John, but about Charles and Javier? Very likely. And if so, all she did was pass along what the guys themselves told her — in drunken confidence, far too trusting of their smugly satisfied, rented companion for the night.

Where the Gang Fell Apart

We only see things through Arthur’s eyes, but we have no idea what the others are doing. Dutch told them to blend in, act like civilized workers, and find ways to make an honest living. But he didn’t tell them to get black-out drunk, hire whores, and start bar fights. And yet that’s exactly what they did — so recklessly it borders on stupidity. When you’re that drunk, you don’t care who’s listening or what you’re saying.

There’s even a line in a conversation between O’Driscoll members, where they say Colm ordered them not to mess with whores until their job was done. And honestly? He was right. A drunk man whose dick is doing the thinking is no friend to his own brain. And yes — scientific studies confirm that sexual hormones impair both cognitive and physical performance. Aroused men are less rational, more impulsive, and their coordination drops. (This is a bit of a tangent, but it fits.)

So, is it possible that one of the biggest reasons behind the gang’s constant failures wasn’t just Dutch’s madness or Micah’s betrayal — but the reckless, indulgent lifestyle of its men? I’m not blaming them for wanting to satisfy basic urges. But, seriously — showing up as a group of four (Arthur, Javier, Charles, Bill) at the saloon, all of them among the most wanted criminals in the country, openly using their real names, and then starting a fight?

That’s not just carelessness. That’s self-destruction.

#charles smith #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #javier escuella #bill williamson #dutch van der linde #van der linde gang #rdr2 community #red dead redemption #irinap25 #john marston #Pinkerton #charles smith x arthur morgan #charles smith x you #charles smith x reader #charles smith rdr2 #charles smith fanart

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woniehugs · 10 months ago

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OPERATION: FUCK SIM JAEYUN.

—✧ summary: as a student, you were a huge academic overachiever, always wanting to excel in class and get the highest grades. as a teenage girl, you wanted to get some hardcore action. academics were stressful, and you needed an outlet for that stress. besides, it’s your second to the last year in high school. what could possible go wrong if you deviated and have a little fun? you’ve had your eyes on one guy for a while now, sim jaeyun. the handsome guy, the star soccer player, good at physics. now, you now had another goal aside from finishing the school year as the top student: fuck sim jaeyun. one day, you get partnered together for a project, and one thing led to another, you end up in his bed. this might just turn your life for the better… or the worst.

—✧ pairing: jake sim x y/n

—✧ genre: highschool! au, fluff, pining (mutual? you’ll see), friends with benefits, casual relationship, smut (in later parts)

—✧ a/n: i’ve been thinking about this plot for soooo long now and i really want to write it so here i am haha. this story will be split into two parts (you’ll understand why soon) each part with a vague number of chapters for now. depends on my mood, i’ll be writing and posting the chapters whenever since i’m pretty busy. but i promise, i will finish writing this because this is the plot i’ve been both daydreaming and sleeping to at night. this’ll be my outlet for my stress from academics ;)

—✧ taglist: @youreverydayzebra @witheeseung @w3bqrl @renjuns-grillfreind (cant be tagged) @freakywonbin , @enhafika , @enhacolor, @woniebuns, @cyberstephzz, @sumzysworld, @woniefull, @aanniikkaa, @faithnsstuff, @wonnienyang, @wonlluvie, @slut4hee, @hwaluvrsblog, @jakeswifez, @jiryunie, @nikibleist , @friurt, @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate, @jakesimfromstatefarm, @lolddhfsdcvff-blog (cant be tagged), @my10monthslovesimjae, @heefever, @milanco, @khaisdrz, @cha-raena, @khaisdrz , @milanco , @bananna-12 (cant tag), @ilovejakesimsm (cant tag), @enhypenlovre, @simjaeyunswifee, @shawnyle, @hoonieluv, @niniissus, @bookloversomuch . send an ask or comment if you want to be added!

SHORT PREVIEW:

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

you pull away from jake, panting, trying to catch your breath. you hear him breathing in the same pace as yours, and your brain short-circuits for a moment. you couldn’t believe what the hell just happened.

who the fuck leaned in first?

was it me? him?

and why did i enjoy it so much?

“s-shit, i…” you try to say, clearing your throat. you weren’t so sure what to say after that. wow? you’re an amazing kisser. we should do this more often! oh no you would sound insane. but then again, you were never even sane in the first place.

jake continues to stare at you, still trying to catch his breath. he looks at the unfinished project beside you, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from smiling. you notice this, raising an eyebrow, “what are you smiling about? is this funny to you? we just—“

“yes. we just made out. in my bed.” he cuts you off, looking you in the eye once again. you wanted to look away, growing shy under his gaze, but you find yourself not doing so. “didn’t think you were capable of that. always thought you were the saving yourself after marriage type of girl.”

your eyes widen in surprise, pushing him off. “e-excuse me! you act like you just fucked me in your mattress, which you didn’t, and we won’t ever do!” partially a lie. now that he mentioned it, you couldn’t stop thinking about that scenario now after that incredible almost experience. “and besides, i am that type of girl. i have huge respect for myself.”

jake smiled even wider at your response, “right. i’m not saying you don’t. but i gotta say, i wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

did you hear that correctly? did he just say he wouldn’t mind doing that again?!

well, to be fair, you honestly wouldn’t mind either.

you shake your head, “oh, shove off! let’s pretend that never happened. keep that between us.” you point a finger towards him, “say a word to anyone else and i will cut your balls off. that isn’t a threat, it’s a promise.”

“oh y/n, i know better than to disobey you.” jake replied, holding your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the finger you pointed at him. you could see the mischievous glint in his eye and you wanted nothing more than to slap (kiss, no, scratch that) smirk off his face, but that would mean you were in the losing round in a game that was never played in the first place.

not yet at least. oh god, what the hell were you thinking?

you gulp quietly, nodding at him, and quickly turned to the project in front of you. “right. we’re finished with our short break, l-let’s continue working. we’re not nearly done with this.” great. distract yourselves from what happened. that’s a good idea. put it all behind you and him.

you couldn’t exactly look him in the eye when saying that, so you could probably guess all that jake heard from you was blah blah blah. fortunately for you, jake hummed beside you and continued to work, acting completely oblivious (or so you’d like to assume) to what you were feeling right now.

once you went home, you were going to spend the whole night thinking about this. not just about what happened, but what jake responded to your embarrassing outburst.

“right. i’m not saying you don’t. but i gotta say, i wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

now why on earth would he say that to you?

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

chapter list! (tentative)

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

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cum-aside · 8 months ago

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Ok it’s not like I go here really, but I’ve been reading a bunch of DPxDC recently because it’s very good, and I had an idea that won’t go anywhere

The various gangs in Gotham have callsigns/uniforms or something right??? If not, they should, and imma say they do. Anyway. Redhood I think didn’t think too hard about what people in his gang on his turf should wear for identification purposes, but they sure did. And what they came up with was Red.

Wearing red in the vicinity of the ‘Bad Part’ of Gotham?? Part of the red hood gang. Generally head gear is the preferred method of wearing red. Red hats and beanies, red head scarfs and hijabs, red headbands, red masks. The idea has been communicated. To a certain point, wearing red even if you aren’t officially part of the gang is a great way to get an in with them, or be under protection if you’re the right age in the right area, as long as you’re willing to risk getting roped into low stakes gang activity, which can range from working the counter at money laundering sites to community service (guarding clinics and shelters and volunteering) to making deliveries to destroying certain hostile architecture. (Hood saves the real jobs with cops and shootings and turf disputes for actual members, that he knows the names faces and skills of, and who are at least above 18, but preferably over 20, and who wear real gear he supplies them with, not just whatever’s in their closet that’s red) (this does not entirely stop the smaller ‘members’ from getting into their own fights with the cops and turf wars, but Jason has found that giving them Something to do that feels like direct action helps curb those tendencies. And it’s not like those things aren’t things that don’t need doing, so it’s a win win. Mostly)

Danny, bless him, does not know any of this. But has been staying in the sketchier areas of Gotham because that’s where people don’t care how old you are or if your papers are real or not, and he absolutely does not want people looking into how old he is and wether his papers are real or not. He is also wearing an inadvisable and vaguely conspicuous amount of red. His converse are red, his signature baseball tee is white and red, and his hoodie is also red.

Clearly, this kid (he’s like 17) really wants in with the hood gang.

And eventually, they oblige him.

Random people will approach Danny and ask/tell him that them and a couple others are going somewhere to do (insert vaguely/definitely illegal job or act of community service here) and Danny, who is deeply directionless in life currently, and also pretty assured in his ability to eat danger for breakfast, and has never met an institutional authority he doesn’t disrespect at least a little bit, is totally down for some civil disobedience and chaotic good shenanigans.

And then it spirals from there. Like. A worrying amount.

It takes Danny actual months, almost a year, to realize that he’s been low key slow cooked into the criminal underbelly of Gotham, and like… he’s not really mad about it?? Honestly if he had a choice when he came to Gotham, he probably would have picked the redhood gang anyway. He just seems to vibe with them on a… Spiritual Level…

Anyway

Years go by, and while Danny doesn’t have the most going for him in terms of a normal person life, vis a vis higher education, official employment, health insurance, dating life, or any other benchmark one uses to measure the trajectory of their lives— Danny’s feeling pretty good! Jazz, Tucker, and Sam have all finagled their ways into Gotham, (Tucker has a WE internship, Jazz is working/doing work studies at Arkham, Sam does what she likes now that she is a legal adult and has her inheritance, and what she likes is environmental activism, and occasionally being spotted with fellow activist Damian Wayne, and someone who may or may not be poison ivy, sources differ) and Danny finds his obsession suspiciously well served as a hood goon. Hood hench? Redgoon? Hench hood?? Name pending, who cares.

Danny is also suspiciously good at, well, his job. One of the best runners, even when he gets caught and frisked they never seem to find the goods on him (they never do check IN him, but then why would they) very well liked at every volunteer spot they have, patient, kind, funny, good with old people, kids, bitter people, addicts and the homeless, the sick and injured. And yet also very competent in the field, when they finally let him do actually dangerous things. Act as protection detail to the working girls in the red light district, he’s very respectful, and very good at intimidation, de-escalation, and when push comes to shove, excellent in a fight. Knows when to keep pressing his advantage and when to make a retreat with whoever he’s guarding. Not afraid to fight scrappy, and presses through pain and fear like a true gothmite.

He gets so good at his not really a job job that he becomes essentially, Redhoods right hand man.

The rest of the bats are skeptical of this for several reasons. Because generally speaking, the people in Jason’s turf are not fans of the bats, but Jason does a lot of coordinating with them, and someone so close to him is going to pick that up eventually if they’re half as sharp and useful as Danny is. Other than that, secret identity issues, plus pit rage, plus the fact that Jason trusts pretty much nobody. But Jason has great feelings about this guy, he always feels more clear headed and even keeled when he’s around, and he helps Jason remember the community he’s trying to build, and the community he serves. Also he delegates and mother hens like nobody’s business, but Jason just really can’t seem to work up too much irritation about it.

It is around this time, however, that the past, and shady government organizations come knocking.

Perhaps the GIW has also noticed how ecto-contaminated and lawless Gotham is and decided that they could start doing research and experiments with its live and undead denizens instead of amity, where the portal has closed, and ghost activity is down since phantom disappeared. Or maybe the GIW has finally located phantom specifically and is interested in what they’re always interested in. Or maybe it’s various ghosts harassing Danny to take up the throne, which he’s been avoiding successfully, but having settled into a life routine that suites him his core has finally ‘settled’ (halfa cores fluctuate more than other cores due to the transient nature of being alive, but halfa people settle into lifelong patterns and relationships quicker than other people because of the static nature of being dead) he is mature enough by ghost standards to assume the throne, or at least begin preparing for it.

Regardless, danny is being tracked down for his childhood baggage’s extended warranty, and brings the entirety of the JL and almost all associated sidekicks, hero group spin-offs, and organizations into the thick of it.

Idk. I just got through Secretary Danny by DeathlySilent13 on ao3 and I thought man oh man wouldn’t it be neat if Danny got to be Jason’s second in command instead??? That could open up a lot of avenues I haven’t seen yet. I’m also just very curious about how the Jason’s runs his gang according to the fandom, and I think that with all the ACAB energy Danny has been assigned, he should have a little bit of community focused organized crime. As a treat. Like I said I don’t go here thou, I just needed to put this somewhere and see if it vibed with anybody besides me

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp au #danny phantom #red hood #liminal Jason Todd

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camzeecorner · 23 days ago

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 - 𝕀 ℂ𝔸𝕄𝔼 ℍ𝔼ℝ𝔼 𝔽𝕆ℝ 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼

•welcome to the newest, hottest, messiest au you’ll ever read!

𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙍𝙊𝘿𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘡𝘰𝘳𝘢 𝘕𝘢��𝘢 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢 !

“Hey guys” Zora beams at the camera. Her energy radiates through her, bold and bright. Her smiles widens as she tilts her head allowing her hair to flow through the moment. “I’m Zora Nala, I’m twenty four and I’m originally from Brooklyn, New York while my parents are from Kingston, Jamaica making me Jamaican-American.” Her soft laugher is heard, a noise that could turn any head. Her voice was light and filled with vibrant rhythms. She claps her hands together lightly as she straightens her back allowing her to look confident and calm.

“ I’m a fashion designer and forecaster, you’ll be able to tell the more you watch” She playfully winked at the camera before giving a soft giggle allowing her eyes to flutter shut. “If I could describe myself in three words I’d probably say..” her voice trailed off while she tapped her nail against the end of her chin , slightly pursuing her lips indicating her hard thinking. “I’ll go with charismatic, resilient and probably loud.” She chuckled at her own words tossing her hair back. Her eyes glistened in the light casting a warm sun-kissed glow onto her brown skin.

“Im not too picky when it comes to the men I date, I expect the bare fucking minimum and nothing less.” Her face turned more serious than before allowing the energy to shift. She’s had her fair share of boys years ago, still didn’t settle down. She never thought she asked for much, so she assumed she never was the problem.

“I like a man who knows his worth, I’ve never liked an insecure man.” Her blank face said everything that the viewers needed to know. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you complain about nonsense, I don’t got the time nor energy. I want someone to be there for me no matter the circumstances, being able to attend to my needs, validate my feelings and assure me.” She named off her check list counting on her hand. Her previous relationships had taught her a lot about herself and she really reflected on that.

“Looking back at my past experiences with people I learned that I tend to shift away very quickly and I think it’s because I’m scared of the commitment. My last few relationships ended very badly for me and it was hard to learn how to trust people again, I always felt unwanted, vulnerable and lonely, that’s something I don’t want to experience again. I want my person to be all about me not about me plus 2 side pieces…” she explained, her voice was filled with passion, expressing herself.

“But hey, each time I got hurt that just reminded me that I needed to bounce back even harder, don’t let these lil ass boys ruin yourself.” She giggled. “My physical type.. so like I said I’m not picky at all. I do find myself dating a lot of tall men, I’m 5’2 myself so it doesn’t usually bother me. I don’t care about hair, body, race. Like if you’re fine, you’re mine!” She clapped. A soft sigh escaped her mouth as she shook her head playfully. “Honestly.. I’m ready, bring me whatever you got. We gonna make it work.” She nodded.

As Zora watched through the car window she took in the scenery that surrounded her, truly fascinated with the beauty around her. She’d never been to Fiji, yet it was on her list. Watching the calm wind blow through the trees, a soft breeze gliding through the air. She noticed the vibrant colors of flowers that blossomed from the ground, completely tangled in the grass. She couldn’t help but smile to herself, she was in paradise.

The soft hum of the car relaxed her, listening to the faint sound of the music that played through the radio. Allowing herself to shut her eyes peacefully resting her head against the headrest. She figured she might as well get the last of her rest in before she opened her new chapter in life.

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀

Watching the villa slowly come into eyesight she couldn’t help herself but smile, sitting up completely while she took in her surroundings. Her leg slightly shook, a nervous habit of hers. She didn’t want to worry herself but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. These were strangers, people she’d learn to adapt into in her life for the next 2 months. Scared was an understatement.

Gently grabbing the sleek black handle she took a deep breath before opening the door. Quickly thanking the driver she exited the vehicle, straightening her dress out as it got a little wrinkled from sitting. Her golden heels stood on the pebbled ground, her freshly pampered toes painted yellow. She quickly grabbed the phone specifically assigned to her from the producers, opening the camera before checking herself out.

Making sure she looked absolutely perfect she shut the phone sliding back into her dress. Taking careful steps she slowly made her way towards the entrance, hearing faint laughter. ‘This is really happening’ she thought to herself.

Walking into the villa she was met with colors, music and a warm embrace allowing herself to smile wide. Her eyes quickly scanned the room noticing the different neon signs that lit the night up. It wasn’t long before her eyes landed on 3 girls, sucking in a breath she began to walk. Her body shined in the light, her hips swayed as her head stayed up.

“Who is that?” She could hear the voice. It came from the tallest of the group, blonde hair, long legs, and a green dress. Zora softly smiled at the group before picking her speed up. “Hi!” Zora exclaimed while waving her nails. Her long curls bounced with her, as a few hung in her face.

The group sat their glasses down before quickly moving towards Zora. “Bitch you are beautiful!” The darkskin girl praised. Zora felt the heat on her face from the compliment making her smile. “Thank you, you are.. shit girl I don’t have a word. You’re gorgeous!” Zora giggled. She embraced them all in a hug feeling the warmth spread throughout her body. She could smell the expensive perfume in the air.

“Thank you! I’m Olandria, it’s so nice to meet you.” Olandria spoke. She smiled sweetly at her showing her perfectly whitened teeth. “Very nice to meet you all, I’m Zora Nala, Zora’s fine as well.” She said. The group nodded at her words quickly feeling welcomed. “I’m Chelly, it’s wonderful to meet you.” She beamed. She had a joyful smile, her doll-like face laced with pure happiness. “I’m Belle-a, and I just have to say you are an angel!” She commented.

Zora felt her body heat up, the compliments washing over her making her feel giddy. “Y’all are too sweet, like hello? Bad bitches 1, 2, and 3!” Zora laughed pointed her long nails around to each girl.

They sat calmly at the swings, the light chatter filling the villa. As she got to know them better she found Olandrias energy very inviting to herself. She definitely could see them getting close. Belle-a was very relaxed and more quiet than the other two, guessing she was more laid back than the other two.

As the finale girl walked in, the louder the villa got, filling the night air with laughter and compliments. Smiles plastered across each face. By now Zora had introduced herself to Huda, taking a liking in her the more they talked.

“So when do you guys wanna have kids?” Huda asked, she had a small smile stretched across her lips. Zora thought about the question, she always knew she wanted kids, the idea of having her own family. Her own house, as she watched them grow. The small thought made her smile.

“Honestly I’d say within the next 3 years.” Zora answered. Chelly nodded as she hummed lightly. “I’ve always wanted kids around 30, I feel like that’s the point in my life where I can say ‘look I’m ready settle down and start a family, I’m grown, I know what I want and how to go about it. ’ The only issue who gonna be the daddy?” Chelly explained with a faint giggle. “Right.” Olandria spoke.

“See I don’t know, there’s a part of me that wants a family, being able to raise children, watching them grow it’s beautiful honestly. Then there’s another part where I kinda see myself having a future with no kids, just settling down with my husband’s maybe some pets, I still wanna explore the world you know.” Belle-a spoke. We all nodded, taking in her words understanding exactly what she was feeling. “That part” Zora softly whispered.

Huda smiled as her eyes lit up, sighing softly. “You know, I’m a mommy.” She exclaimed. Chelly gasped lightly as the comment completely shocked. “Really? How old- he or she?” She questioned. Huda’s expression lit up as she talked about her 4 year old daughter. The group of girls smiling to each other as they conversed more.

“Even if I don’t meet a guy I’m still incredibly lucky to have met all of you beautiful ladies, and making memories for a lifetime.” Zora beamed with joy her voice shouting loudly. “Period, I know that’s right. Regardless of any situation I’m put through, I’m just going to come back stronger.” Chelly spoke.

As they raised their glasses to the air a soft clinking noise was made, making each girl smile and cheer. “To a good ass night, and fine ass men!” Olandria shouted.

Just as the girls started to settle in more they couldn’t help but notice yet another women walk in, one looking just a little older than them. She wore a beige like dress that was completely made of gems. As she approached the group Zora couldn’t help but smile at her beauty, her long blonde hair perfectly framing her face.

“Hello ladies!” Her cheerful voice rang, waving her hands high into the air. “Welcome to Fiji” She yelled, her bright smile welcoming them. The women clapped and cheered watching her movements. “I’m gonna grab a drink and come talk to you.” She explained. Walking towards the champagne she carefully poured it into the tall glass cup. “Girl you look so good what the fuck?” Huda shouted.

“I’ve got to join the party. I’m giving my- oh!” She yelped. She yanked the bottle away from her quickly avoiding the overflowing champagne from getting her messy. Zora giggled at the scene. “The partys starting.” She chuckled.

Compliments were instantly thrown around as the blonde lady made her way to the seat, sitting towards the end. “You’re looking amazing. Absolutely unreal.” She got up swiftly, holding her glass away from her as she greeted each girl with a side kiss and faint hug.

“Oh my gosh you guys are some of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen!” She spoke. Her voice was filled with excitement as her eyes scanned each girl in front of her. She softly sighed before she spoke. “Girls how are you feeling?” She wondered out loud.

“It’s so surreal” I voiced, nodding my head. “You guys are about to have the best summer of your lives.” She cheered. Laughter broke out within the group and they all nodded and clapped. “Are you ready to find your man?” She asked.

“I’m ready to find him for sure!” Zora clapped. “I’ve been searching!” She laughed. A smile plastered on her face, her rosy cheeks tingling. “Okay, well, if I’m going to help you guys do that, I really want to get to know you guys.” She explained.

“I’m dying to know kind of everything about you.” She smiled. “Olandria.” She spoke as she tucked her hair away behind her shoulder. “Yes?” Olandria smiled. “What brings you to love island?” She asked with a small head tilt.

“I’ve been single for, what, 5 years now?” She questioned herself. Ariana lightly gasped with a shocked expression.

“Obviously, I’ve been dating in between. My only relationship I’ve been in, it was 3 years.” She explained to the group, all their faces softened as they gave her the attention. “Honestly, at times, I truly felt like I over-healed because now I see myself cutting people off for the smallest things.” She spoke with passion, often speaking with her hands.

Zora nodded at her words really taking in what she was saying. She understood her situation and what she meant because she had gone through it herself. There had been multiple times when she gave her all into one person, just for them to drain her completely. It was a hard time in her life and it took a lot for her to come back from, just the thought of trusting people again scared her.

“Cause it’s like when I did-”she began again, quickly before Ariana stepped in. “You think that’s why you haven’t had another-” she continued, using her hand to explain herself further. Olandria simply nodded at her words. “Exactly. And I need to learn to allow people to make mistakes and allow them to grow from them as well, and not just cutting them off immediately.” She finished.

“I think we can all tell already that you’re a cool ass girl.” Ariana nodded. “Absolutely” they mumbled. The soft praise made the girl get slightly shy and giggle. “Thank you, thank you.”

Ariana turned to me before she asked “Zora Nala what brings you to love island?” She smiled. I sucked in a small breath before crossing my legs. “Well honestly I’ve been single for about 3 years and a half now. My last relationships weren’t in the best condition I would say, and instead of stepping away from that I continued to put myself in another after another, not allowing myself to take that time and heal.” She spoke, there was a faint sadness laced in her voice due to her talking about the heartbreaks of her young adult life.

“I always gave my all into other people, no matter what because that is the type of person I am, and just after being completely torn apart I kinda thought about it and was like ‘Zora you gotta chill’ you know, so I took a much needed long overdue journey to find myself. And I feel like I’ve definitely matured from those situations, learned what I truly like and grown myself to be stronger than the girl I was before.” She nodded as she finished.

“That’s beautiful baby.” Huda faintly spoke. I smiled towards her, genuinely happy to have found some sort of support. “Are you ready to build your roster?” Ariana asked with a teasing voice. I nodded quickly, “oh 100 percent I am.” I confidently agreed.

“Belle-a” Ariana says, earning a small smile from the girl. “Heeyy” she grinned. “Hi. What are you hoping to find this summer?” She asked curiously. “I’ve only been in one relationship. And I’m a baby. I’m only 22-” “oh yea you are a baby” Ariana softly grinned. “But I am like. Kind of an old soul. I am a Christian, and I want somebody who wants a future.” She said.

“Like the intention behind..” Ariana began. “Exactly,” Belle-a nodded. “To not just play games.” She finished. “Like yea, I want to have a little fun too, but like let’s have fun together for the rest of our lives, you know?” The girls nodded in agreement to her statement, understanding her moves.

“Huda what is your normal type?” Ariana asked the brunette. “I like really pretty men.” She shrugged. “Is that like terrible to say?” She giggled. “No, same.” Ariana laughed. “Okay because like. I like pretty men, a good looking ass man. Does that make sense?” She questioned. “Makes total sense.” They nodded.

“Alright Chelly!” She cheered, watching as her eyes lit up. “So what would you say is your type personality wise?” She briefly wondered before speaking, “personality wise like, you walk into the room, and your aura just speaks for itself, you’re very family-oriented and just like a gentleman. Someone who’s genuine, could be goofy, romantic, because that’s one thing that a lot of guys don’t have anymore is romance, and they lack chivalry.” She explained.

Ariana nodded in agreement. “Alright girls should we top off our drinks and keep the party going!” She excitedly asked. The girls erupted with cheer as they began to nod and softly dance around.

“Alright let’s go!” She shouted happily. The girls quickly stood to their feet as they made their way towards the white table, Zora stood by the side allowing herself to relax as she drunk her champagne. The rich taste lingered on her tongue, fizzy and tender.

Suddenly everyone’s attention was turned away as two men dressed in expensive looking suits entered, walking with pride and joy. Zora smiled at the sight, already feeling the blush creep to her cheeks. “Oh I see them coming!” Ariana spoke.

Watching the smiles break out around the girls they were incredibly shocked by the handsome men approaching them. “Ladies we’re home!” The tall one shouted. He had brown curly hair, perfect coils. His tan skin standing out. The black suit fit him perfectly, he was fit, she could tell he had muscle. He was very attractive to her.

The shorter brownskin man walked beside him. His low haircut looking very fresh, his pearly white teeth shining as he grinned. He was wearing a white suit, it looked good. He looked good.

The girls clapped and cheered as they let the excitement pass through them. “Hello Nicolas and Ace!” Ariana greeted. Shocked faces were thrown all around the table, these men were fine as hell. “Come on over here!” She could hear Ariana. Zora couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face. “Come party with us!” The joke caused everyone to lightly giggle.

“This can’t be real life.” Chelly exclaimed. Her smile faintly dropped as she whispered to herself covering her mouth with her hand. “Damn they look good as hell.” Ace snickered. “Hi” Nic calmly spoke, reaching out for an inviting hug. “Hi Nicolas” we all said.

“I know you” Ace smirked as he engulfed Chelly into a warm hug. “Ace” she spoke as she returned the hug. He had a smug grin as his eyes traveled over her figure. “How you doing?” He asked. Chelly gave him a smile, showing all 32. “I’m good.”

“Wait, Ace, did you just say you know Chelly!” Ariana asked shocked. “I do know Chelly, yeah.” He confirmed. He licked his lips before turning his full attention towards the blonde woman. “How do you know Chelly?” She questioned.

“I met her in New York actually.” He said. That caused Zora to slightly raise her eyebrows, what were the odds. “Outside of a club actually.” He continued. “This is crazy” Chelly spoke. Her face had a warm expression clearly still shocked at his appearance.

“No I mean, like, we met, then we were talking on instagram and stuff, but..” she explained. “Talking on instagram? Already?” Nic joked. “He did , but it was just like, he lives in LA, and I live in Orlando so it’s like..” she laughed. “Small world I guess” Zora giggled.

“Ace what are you looking for?” Ariana asked the same question she previously asked the girls. “Honestly I’m looking for like a family oriented person. I’m really big on family. I like someone with a lot of personality.” He spoke with passion, allowing his voice to be heard. “Someone I can really fall deeply in love with. I’m a romantic at heart, you know.” He told the group.

The comment made Zora smile as he talked, nodding along to what he was saying. “What do you do for a living?” Ariana asked. “I teach people all over the world to dance.” He smiled. Zora nodded in approval at his answer. She was someone who loved to dance herself, she often partied and went out. “What kind of dancing?” Zora asked. “Any dance, anything you wanna learn!” He clapped softly.

“How old are you?” Olandria asked. “I’m 22” The girls let out a soft chuckle. “Oh you’re a baby.” She laughed. “You still got breast milk on your breath.” She smiled. Her words caused Zora to let out a laugh.

“I’m 24 years old so, I don’t really got breast milk on me anymore. So like I’m almost grown.” Nic chimed in. He chuckled lightly at the joke as everyone else did. “Nicolas did you also meet the ladies outside of a club in New York?” Ariana smirked. “Maybe we met. No I don’t know.” He waved off, as he spoke to Belle-a. “Oh refresh my memory.” She clapped back.

“I think like from my past relationships, I was lacking a lot of attention towards me. And so like just quality time and physical touch too.” He explained. “I’m huge on those.”

“So you like the girls horny huh?” Ariana winked playfully. The group all shared a laugh again as a few looks were passed around. “No I mean touchy, horny is touchy so I guess.” He defended.

“What kind of energy do you need from someone you’re dating?” “I love a little bit of crazy honestly.” He admitted. “Oh so keeping you on a roller coaster?” Zora asked. He nodded at her, “yea exactly that.”

As the group lightly chatted, Zora spotted yet another man approaching, skipping towards them. He wore a red and black suit, his long dreads hanging while covered by a cowboy hat. “Hi” Zora giggled. “What up yall?” He asked with a bright smile. He had a small southern accent. It was cute. “What’s good?” He spoke reaching the table. His energy was bright, Zora could tell he was a happy person with a big personality.

“I like cowboys.” Zora spoke out loud, causing a light giggle to leave his mouth. “Ladies this is Taylor” Ariana introduced. “Where you from bro?” Ace asked from the other side of the table. “Oklahoma” he said. “I can hear it” Ace smiled. “Are you a cowboy?” Ariana quipped. “Yes ma’am” he nodded.

“Taylor are you roping, rodeo?” She asked. “Rodeo.” He confirmed. “What kind of rodeo?” I wondered out loud. “I do like a relay race. It’s called pony express.” He says. “Are you riding ponies?” I joked. He chuckled as he tossed his head back. “No I ride a horse.” He nodded. “You know I rode a mechanical bull once.” Ace added. This caused the cowboy to laugh loudly.

“That’s Jeremiah and Austin.” Ariana spoke, the group turned their heads as they noticed the last boys arrive. The blonde was tall, at least over 6 foot, he wore a light green suit jacket with white pants. The brownskin wore a light pink button up paired with black pants. “Hi” the girls waved.

“I’m Austin” he greeted me with a firm handshake and a polite smile. “Hi I’m Zora Nala, nice to meet you.” I smiled. “Zora Nala? Very gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” He flirted. My eyes sparkled in the light as a blush took over my face. The group collectively cheered at his charms making me feel shy. “Thank you.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeremiah” she heard the man speak. He had a softer voice that wasn’t as deep yet still manly. She watched as he made his way around the table greeting each girl with a hug and each boy with a handshake.

“Jeremiah, Austin welcome to the party. What are you looking for here in love island?” She began. I’m looking for a real connection. I would love to fall in love, and I fall in love very easily but uh, yea. I’m 26 from Michigan originally, and I live now in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.” He introduced. “I’m a pool boy, it’s fun especially down in Florida. Like there’s so many beautiful women.” He added with a chuckle.

“What about you Jeremiah? Are you excited, nervous?” “I’m a little bit of both, not afraid to admit that.” He said. “Jeremiah what are you looking for here?” Ariana asked. “I’m open for anything really. Find a girlfriend.” He kept his response sweet and short.

“Well islanders, I feel like you guys have gotten to know each other a little bit. So how about we get you guys coupled up?” She asked cheerfully. The group cheered as they finished off their drinks.

As the group followed after the tall blonde woman ahead they couldn’t contain their smiles. All the nerves that Zora felt before quickly washed away as she walked with confidence. Her body swayed perfectly with each step. Her breast bounced lightly with every step she took, her perfectly rounded butt shook. She looked good, and everyone knew it.

Zora was ready for whatever challenges were thrown at her, if she wanted something she would do anything means necessary to get it. She was competitive and smart and knew how to balance her cards out. She moved in silence, and she loved hard.

So let the games officially begin.

Tag list - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous @ribread03 @meatballlover10 @mattslolita @sophand4n4 @riasturns @nickysturnss @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @sturnshood @riasturns @strnilolover @mattsbrowser @cayleeuhithinknott @blushsturns @snoopychris @chrissweetheart @watermelonstarzz @sosasturns @chrissweetheart @eeyoresturnz @phone4pills @raesturns @priscillaog @angeliolo @amyiasturnl @sunrisemill @lezleeferguson-120 @nickysturnss @chrisbrowser @oopsiedaisydeer

Hi guys! I’m bacckkkkk! Chapter one is officially done , the amount of pausing and rewinding I had to do was killing me but I’m so excited for this au!!! This is definitely something new since I’m a sturniolo page but I figured why not, love island is a big topic right now sooo.. anyway let me know anything you guys are hoping to see maybe I’ll add it

Still trying to figure out who I can use to replace Cierra as a bombshell, not sure if I wanna use an oc or not, any suggestions are greatly appreciated 🤍

Part two here , part 3

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astro-rainbow777 · 1 year ago

Text

🍒⛽️Red Astrology Observations☎️👠

Mars in Astrology

💋 Passion in Astrology can be found in the Mars sign and house placement:

- Aries Mars are more passionate In nature, whatever they want, they go after, fiercely and bravely. The type to love sports, fights and competition of any kind. They thrive in a competitive environment and relationships. It possible their passion is tied to their childhood in some way (same for Mars in 1st)- so if this involves child hood toys they used to collect, eating their favorite foods growing up or playing games that they used to when times were simpler.

- Mars in 1st house can make the native very passionate about their looks, being perceived as dominate/hot/sexy, working out and having physical strength. I’ve noticed that they may like competition but generally they don’t try that hard to compete with others if they are in good health. If these natives are confident in themselves- they try so hard to boost the confidence of everyone around them.

- Taurus Mars can be passionate about their possessions, having their material needs met, connecting to their 5 senses and financial gain. “Anyone can cook” 👨🏻‍🍳 🤌🏻mentality. Passionate about rest! This may sound silly- but it’s actually quite hard to master, especially in hustle culture. As someone with no earth placements in their chart, it’s extremely hard for me to rest, slow down and enjoy my food. Be present, Taurus mars understands and values this. Not the type to gamble their money away. Needs things to make sense materially.

- Mars in 2nd house makes the individual very passionate and their financial security and safety, having their basic needs met, having an abundance of possessions. They can thrive in jobs that are considered a “competitive pay” corporation. They may love shopping, spending and saving money. They value passion and material wealth, so depending on what sign the Mars placement is in can add more context of what it surrounds. Bulk spenders, Costco/Sams Club membership holders lmao.

- Mars in Gemini is very multi faceted in what they are passionate about. They have little niches and hobbies that they love, anything that challenges them mentally while also being hands on! My mom has this and she’s really into gardening and cooking with the food she’s grown. She can get very restless about it but I think that it’s so cute how whatever she is passionate about consumes her mentally.

- Mars in 3rd is passionate about mental pursuits, they could have been picked on as a kid, which made them highly ambitious in their studies. Extremely competitive in the realm of knowledge. Their peers and siblings may see them as a threat or just see them as generally argumentative. Although I think these people just enjoy a good debate and exercising their intellectual capabilities. They could have an abundance of hobbies they indulge in and our passionate about. They may bound with their friends through their hobbies and passions. Could really enjoy competitive video games such as Smash Bros.

- Mars in Cancer natives are passionate about their family and proving themselves to their family. They could have been compared to their family members a lot growing up, or just felt an instability at home. They are passionate about cultivating a home for themselves and starting a family of their own one day. This does not have to be pertinent to kids- chosen family- fur babies 🐾 or significant other also ring true for this sign.

- Mars in 4th are passionate about their loved ones, they are highly protective of themselves and others. These people are quite competitive but in a passive aggressive way. They are usually at war with their own emotions, family and security. I’ve noticed many of these individuals have had violence in childhood home or trauma surrounding family ):

- Mars in Leo they are passionate about their creativity, children and having fun! Would love to have this Mars placement honestly, because these people march to the beat of their own drum. It’s very admirable! They are passionate about their own authenticity, you will never catch them trying to steal someone else’s Swag lmao. I think they invented swag quite honestly 😂

- Mars in 5th are total party animals! They are passionate about life and all that the world has to offer. The world is their Oyster! Every sidewalk is their runway and every song they hear is the backtrack for the movie they star in! Their life is all about being confident in their own skin and romanticizing their selves, relationships and passion projects.

- Mars in Virgo are passionate about helping others and being the best version of themselves. This Mars sign is notoriously known for being able to try something once and being exceptionally good at it the first go. I hate to say it (only because I know it comes from a place of pain) but these natives are passionate about perfection. This can cause them a lot of anxiety if they are careful. Although, they are good at many things, it is advised that they lean into whatever makes them happy, serve their part in making the world a better place!

- Mars in 6th are passionate about their purpose, their health and their pets. They can spend a lot of time researching how to become better versions of themselves. They will have a very active routine and live passionately day to day. The type to wake up at sunrise, take their vitamins tend to their pets needs, cook a whole food breakfast, workout, meditate, journal, than go to work, tend to their pets needs, do their night time self care, hygiene, journal, meditate, pre sleep stretch, sleep exactly 8 hours, repeat. Function well with planners.

- Mars in Libra are passionate about harmony and balance. When I tell you their whole plan of action is strictly devoted to how not to get into conflict… it’s to the tea. They are super passionate about the relationships in their life, and are very generous in nature. They love art, certain aesthetics, good food and beautiful things. They may be called lazy from time to time because they don’t quite function the way other people do. They may make plans for 50 different things one day because they have a difficult time saying no- then end up going to none of them because they didn’t finish getting ready until everything event was finished. These people invented fashionably late.

- Mars in 7th is passionate about their partnerships. These natives are actually quite confrontational in comparison to Libra Mars. This is because they want to squash the beef before it’s even a problem. There may be a tendency to people please- but most of the time these people are just socially extroverted, kind and considerate.

- Mars in Scorpio is another sign that is just passionate in nature. It is so intense for them that it is hard for them to do anything if they not completely engulfed in passion. They psychoanalyze everyone they meet, at natural detectives and are friends with the unknown. They aren’t scared of the dark and often find so much beauty in what others cannot comprehend

- Mars in 8th are passionate about the unknown as well, it is very enticing to them. Anything involving mystery is naturally alluring to them. They love to get lost in rabbit holes of whatever they are interested in. Whatever it is they are the master of- and you question them about it, they’ve already thought of answer. Because they know their hobbies are often taboo, scary, and misunderstood- they have studied every answer to every question that someone had for them. Their passions are all encompassing. They are so much more than deep. Everything they do is intentional.

- Mars in Sagittarius are adventurous, hilarious and curious. I feel like Sagittarius more than Gemini Mars has that “Curiosity killed that cat” vibe. For Gemini mars it’s more like googling disturbing thing’s because they are curious than regretting it. For Sag tho, it’s doing things because YOLO and why tf not? Than breaking their leg or something. Although doesn’t happen often because we know how lucky Sag placements are lmao. But it’s like they jumped off a cliff, didn’t die but they broke their leg. Haha- this was a tangent

- Mars in 9th is going places! Literally they can’t sit still. Most likely passionate about travel, philosophy, and adventure. One of the most fun placements to have. Extreme sports is common here, skydiving, bungee jumping etc. They live to experience all that there is to experience. Very ambitious and passionate about education and teaching as well. They probably have things that they LlVE by

- Mars in Capricorn are passionate about success, achieving their goals which usually require them to work really hard. Where ever the mars is located in the houses can tell you a little bit more about what their goals are. They are passionate about being in control of their own lives, not takin shid from anyone lol

- Mars in 10th are passionate about being successful, being their own boss, their reputation and getting external recognition. They will put a lot of energy into their career and be very passionate about whatever they are doing. They will be a trail blazer and their career because they do it the right way the first time. Extremely hard workers- just be weary of burn out Mars in 10th folks!

- Mars in Aquarius is passionate about humanitarian pursuits, their community and friendships. They move about the world in the most unpredictable and unexpected way. They can be seen as a black sheep of their peers and then BAM they’re the ones turning heads, setting trends and on top. You will never know their next move and honestly neither do they! They get sudden bursts or urges of motivation and ideas- so never underestimate these individuals!

- Mars in 11th are passionate about their dreams, humanity and social causes. They will spend a lot of time surrounded by their friends and in their community. Although, their best friends will be fighting alongside them. They are passionate about the injustices of the world, stick up for the underdog and let their freak flag fly!

- Mars in Pisces are passionate about compassion, sacrifice, and unconditional love. Many of the times Pisces mars has their head in the clouds and put their energy into reading or writing their own book, painting the world they envisioned in their dream the night before, or staring at a the ocean, only to find God. This is if they are in a healthy nature, but many times they could escape through dr*gs, alc*h*l, s*x, or toxic relationships. This placement can get a bad rap for their changeability and confusion energy but they love harder than no other and would do anything for you if committed.

- Mars in 12th is passionate about their dreams, spiritually, many of them are religious or spiritual in nature. I haven’t met many who aren’t. They are natural introverts who need to spend as much time alone as they can to recharge. They may feel outcasted from society. A lot of people talk behind their back because of this which makes them withdraw even deeper. These natives benefit from living a spiritual, service oriented lifestyle, developing boundaries and surround themselves by people who genuinely want the best for them. It is hard but it is doable. Stay strong Mars in 12th!

🤬💢Pet Peeves🚨🚩

🚗Aries Mars- Going too slow in front of them-especially with no way around (applies to driving as well), lazy people, people who can’t keep up

💢Taurus Mars- Smacking, chewing inappropriately, weird textures….like chalk? Unpleasant senses, smells, being rushed, itchy clothes, under/over cooked food

☎️Gemini Mars- over stimulation, close minded attitude, when their friends don’t like each other, one word responses, boring people, when the Wi-Fi connection is slow

💔Cancer Mars- Inconsiderate of other people’s feelings (doesn’t have to be their own, most time it’s not), manipulation, people with anger issues, or people who take out their problems on others

🪭Leo Mars- When people try to compete with them when they are merely existing, copy cats, buzz kills, unwanted attention, seeing people in public that they don’t want to see

🤡 Virgo Mars- Know it alls, people who act like they know everything but don’t, ignorance, STAINS, people who are really loud….people lmaooo

💋Libra Mars- hypocrisy, stubbornness, arguments (especially in public), hypercritical people, slut shamming and bullies

🧲Scorpio Mars- Lack of depth, lying for the sake of lying, slut shaming, shallow people, assuming, saying “I love you” like it’s casual, saying their friends when they know nothing about them, rumors

🚁Sagittarius Mars- People who lack independence, being late to things (not really others…they hate being late), people who try to control them, excess responsibility, and inflexibility

🩸Capricorn Mars- Doing things half-a$$ed, moochers, lack of ambition, unreliable, carelessness, immaturity, unpredictable behavior

🍄Aquarius Mars- Conformist, cry babies, stupidity, agreeing with them when they are playing devils advocate lol, when they like an unpopular artist and than it becomes trendy, attention seekers

🌹Pisces Mars- Telling them they are being unrealistic or their dreams are too big, being called sensitive or told they care too much, lmao reality…being alive hahaha- being judged for their spirituality/religion

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binmeister · 1 month ago

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I’ve been stalking the kpdh x reader for like the past week or so and naturally I stumbled upon your writing, freaking love it btw. Love the Bodyguard series especially since there hasn’t been too many writings featuring a masc or male mc!

So I had like a request where like the Saja Boys or Huntr/x witness a live busking performance of their music, whether that means the mc is singing or playing an instrument, or even like a full original cover dance, that’s up to you! Maybe they could join in or maybe they just want to appreciate the moment of being the audience for once, either way I think about having a touching moment where the groups would express their enjoyment after the performance is over!

Honestly now that I look at my request, I realize that this could be either romantic or platonic but I would appreciate it being GN! mc. Totally understand if this isn’t exactly your type of thing to write or you’d just prefer not to, I just kinda want to share my ideas with someone.

- 🪭 Anon

(I think I’ll use this for my identity till I kind of just don’t care or feel comfortable)

Random play / Kpop in public

Huntr/x & Saja Boys (Separate) x Dancer! Reader (GN) - Casual dancer

Thank you fan anon.. I've wanted to write HCs or a drabble for a dancing reader for a while because I keep thinking about a reader dancing No Doubt or Bite me in front of the groups.

I’ve been lucky enough to witness a random play dance AND people doing some kpop dances for tiktok, I get so excited when i recognise songs i like but I always feel so bad accidentally walking through the shot bc i’m just walking by LOL

There will be some time-stamped dance vids linked in this one - I am horrible at describing dances so I beg you to just click the timestamped vids to see what dance it is :’)

I hope this kinda gets the vibe of what you wanted i uh,, i went off req,,, imsorry,,

CW: not proofread, fluff mostly, just a good time

Saja Boys - Random play

» Random play - 2:XXpm - Tomorrow (Event Reminder)

»» Better see your ass there ! <3 - A »» u literally promised :) - B »» don’t forgor we r reccing this one - C

The notifications popped up on your phone as you were busying yourself with drying your hair after a hot shower, needing it to relax your muscles after a rough shift at work and god knows that you needed what relief you could get after being grilled by rude customers. But money is money. You snorted to yourself at the group chat, the texting styles of the friends you had made from Kpop dance cover groups never grew old and you had to admit you were a bit excited to finally have some time to attend an event again.

Random play events were hosted bi-weekly, rotating through a few different parts of the city depending on which cover group was hosting it and so that you wouldn’t be a public nuisance too frequently since it was a public event where anyone could really come in and join. You didn’t record frequently but every now and then a session comes up where some people are adamant to get it recorded for memories’ sake.

Smacking your face lightly you quickly browse around in your wardrobe, opting for some black cargo pants and a white loose tank to be tomorrow’s dance fit. Not too flashy, not too hard to move in. Perfect. You threw the pieces on your chair, making sure your sneakers were relatively clean as well before you simply signed off a ‘I’ll be there’ in the chat and headed to bed to decompress and relax for the night.

When you’d woken up the next day you groaned at the time, your room felt hot as the sun absolutely decimated whatever resistance your window should’ve had against it and you managed to fish your phone off of the floor where it apparently decided to rest last night after you’d knocked out for the night. 1:15pm.

“Son of a-” You jolted upright and essentially flew around your room, grabbed your clothes, bolted into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and wash your face. You groaned at your skin, seeing a stress pimple in an obnoxious spot so you opted to just shove a black face mask on as you grabbed a black cap out as well and shoved it on your head to hide any messy pieces of hair sticking up.

“I’m just in my secretive idol era..” You hyped yourself up as you briefly glanced at your reflection in the mirror, pulling your sneakers on and grabbing a loose hoodie as a back up later in case you get cold at some point. Your phone is blowing up with teasing messages asking if you’re ready or if you’re even awake but you don’t have time to think about it as you throw your hoodie, phone, wallet and keys into your bag as you get yourself to the subway and towards your destination within a reasonable time.

»» i hope ur ass is on the way here rn bc i will kill u if you’re not - B »» OMW ! IM SORRY - [N]

You sent a quick response after you had managed to get off the subway, apologising to people you’d accidentally bumped into as you continued in a near full blown sprint to the plaza you were supposed to meet up at. With another brief glance at your phone you sighed as you realised you lucked out, only 15 minutes late which means that you can’t be murdered for missing the event because it was still underway.

By the time you arrive you see a small group of people preparing speakers and a little tripod set up next to a pop up table with a little laptop on it, someone’s hovering over it as they’re prepping the playlist for today’s random play and you cheer silently as you approach and see a few familiar faces. Your free arm waving above your head as you drop your phone back into your bag with your other hand, as you’re rushing over you bump into a guy that’s a good amount taller and sturdier than you and you panic.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry- sorry.” You kept profusely bowing at them as the music of the next song starts playing and you don’t really pay attention to the guy you bumped into as you continue on your way to where you were going. Jinu is a little thrown off at that. No immediate recognition or trying to see his face? To be fair he had a mask on and his hair was admittedly generic enough that he didn’t stand out but did you really not see Abs standing next to him? The guy’s frame was relatively recognisable even with him having on a mask and a beanie on too.

The two look at each other and Abs shrugs at him before they both look in the direction you’re going. Some kind of event? They still needed to kill some time before the others show up so it couldn’t hurt to hover around and watch what’s going on as the small group steadily has more people approaching and leaving their bags to the side as they stand in a rough square shape, leaving a large area in the middle to mimic some kind of stage.

» Soda Pop - Saja Boys

The familiar tune of their song starts playing and both of their ears perk up at that, they’re a little towards the back of the small crowd forming and Abs points you out with a nudge to Jinu’s shoulder and they just idly observe you. Your shoulders are bumping to the song and you’re chattering with your friend by the looks of it, a few others had entered the open space and started to do the choreo of the song but you hadn’t walked in. You’re just singing the lyrics - they can hear it, and doing the little shoulder move and occasionally raising your hand up to do the can drinking motion with your friend as you guys laugh and cheer at the people that did go up and perform their song.

“Wow.. guess we’re not cool enough.” He hears Abs joke but he laughs it off a little. Now they’re a bit more curious with what’s going on. People just gather and dance to songs together? It seems kind of fun but what’s that going to do. It seemed like the song was going through the full chorus and neither had realised that they had steadily been pushed a little closer and closer to where you and your friends were standing but you guys just looked like you were having fun anyway.

» Black Mamba - Aespa - Chorus drop (0:30 - 1:00)

Their song faded out and soon another started, your eyes lit up as you visibly bounced up and down before you and your friend rushed out into the open area with some others from the crowd. He watches as you groove a little to the rhythm, preparing yourself loosely for whatever you’re about to do and then he’s stunned as you and the other people that had stepped out suddenly drop to the ground.

“Black mamba!” He hears the crowd cheer out and some are even full blown screaming which hurts his ears but he’s a little awestruck at your drop, that was so quick and abrupt and as you’re going through the rest of the moves he feels a little bit of heat crawl up his neck because wow this is.. an unfortunate dance to be witnessing from behind. He looks away instinctively but does bring his hands up to clap alongside the crowd, though he doesn’t realise that Abs is just openly staring and dissecting your movements.

As the small audio snippet fades out they watch as you and your friend cheer and hug each other, celebrating how clean that must’ve been to you two and soon enough you’re back in front of them again and the two of them can’t take their eyes off the event. It’s so.. fun? Everyone’s so happy and cheering each other on and they can’t help it when they cheer alongside people.

Songs they don’t know play and occasionally they’re vibing and bopping to the music, your friend turns when she notices two rather tall guys just hovering around and she chirps a greeting at them and starts up a conversation. Asking if they’re new and telling them if they want to join in at any point they’re welcome to, you’ve paused briefly in your cheering to turn and look at them too. Your eyes are visible and your mask is still snug on your face as you look up at them, you squint a little because you swear they look familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.

Before you can engage much further your head snaps forward as another song starts playing and you grab your friend’s wrist and pull her out. Or.. you thought it was your friend’s wrist. Jinu is flabbergasted as you pull him into the crowd, he vaguely recalls the song and then suddenly you’re turned to him and you realise your mistake and before you can apologise to him the killing part of the choreo begins and you’re both already moving to the song.

» Bite me - Enhypen - Chorus duo (1:00 - 1:20)

You’ve taken up the feminine portion of Bite Me’s duo choreo, smoothly going through the movements and Jinu’s a little stiff as he’s trying to keep up with you but you laugh at him and manage to tell him ‘Loosen up, have fun’ and he feels the rhythm suddenly a lot easier to follow. On the portions you’re supposed to hold onto each other, you notice that Jinu instinctively hovers his hands from your back so he’s not actively touching you so you respectfully do the same - hovering your hands a few centimetres from his chest as you follow through the familiar steps.

As he progressively gets more comfortable with himself you feel his hand on yours and he gently lifts it over your heads for the steps and as he moves in front of you and tilts his head for the ‘bite me’ portion you don’t shy away from lightly tapping his neck with two fingers as you learnt from the time you had covered this song with your group. You’re both smiling at each other, not visible with the masks on but your eyes give it away as you continue with the dance and you can’t help but laugh.

You missed this. The way these events brought strangers together just to dance and enjoy the music was so fun.

Jinu’s surprised with himself for even keeping up, he barely remembers the choreo for this song - saw it in passing but it felt like his body and mind remembered it enough to go through all the motions without much issue. When your hand comes up to cup his face for the killing part of the choreo he’s not shy or flustered, he actually chuckles at it because he’s having fun. Enough fun that when you do your step away and back into the crowd he joins the other dancers who were doing the male’s part as he takes a relatively sassy step forward and taps two fingers on his neck on the next ‘kiss me and bite me’ portion before he gives a little bow and retreats back into the crowd where you had gone.

Abs is staring at him, brow raised and he can tell the fucker is smirking at him but he doesn’t say anything as he lets his heart rate settle down again. Your friend is gushing at the both of you, eyes glowing as she looks up at him like ‘wow nice moves’ and he thanks her quietly as he eases himself back to just chill again. He’s quite relieved actually that he and Abs decided to come closer and take a look, this was fun.

He doesn’t join in for anymore songs but he settles with cheering along side other people, feeling the familiar presence of the other Saja Boys drawing near as they’re also covered up in masks, hoods and caps to keep themselves relatively low profile. The others had made sure their hair was a dimmer colour than usual as well to not bring too much attention to themselves, soon enough there’s just 5 Saja Boys watching a group of cover dancers cheering and dancing together and it’s pleasant.

You’re not interacting with them directly, briefly waving hello at the last 3 members who showed up and they nod at you as their respectful greeting in return and just watch as you quickly whip around and cheer with your friend for the next sound bites. Occasionally you join with her, or with someone else in the crowd and you’re just having the time of your lives.

» Ready to love - Seventeen - Last chorus (2:30 - 2:50)

The familiar beats of the last chorus of Ready to Love started to play and your head bumps a little, your a little breathless from how many dances you’ve jumped into by now but you can’t help it when your body reacts and you walk back into the smaller group of dancers getting ready to perform the snippet.

A couple of slow drawn out steps and then you sync up with the others, explosive jump as you all pump that last bit of energy into the choreo so that each step had emphasis and each softened move is done with grace. There’s only 5 of you, you’re off to the side and as you’re all bent on one knee and swing out to do the last beat’s move the music slowly fades out and you’re panting a little. Maybe the face mask wasn’t the best idea but it was so worth it.

There’s people cheering and ‘whoo!’-ing enthusiastically as they clap at your guys’ footwork, despite not being from the same cover group you’d managed to sync up fairly well and you’re laughing as the person next to you dramatically flops to the ground like they’ve had their energy sucked up from them - from memory he’s been apart of nearly every song that played. You don’t know that Abs had his eyes trained on you the entire time that you’d been doing that last choreo, his brows raised a little at the precision of your moves and he’s genuinely impressed.

You’ve returned back in front of them, your friend chattering away at you again before she turns and tries to include them in the conversation too and it’s just nice. They’re not being drooled over for their idol image right now and they’re just blending in with a group of people that are all busy watching people have fun and dance. Romance pipes up beside you and you jump because you didn’t notice him, he gives you a cheeky apology before he asks you on how you know so many songs or how any of you guys came to be.

The next song you hear is one that you’re not familiar with so you don’t step out to dance, instead you opt to answer his question about how you’d come across the group because of a shared interest and then you’ve always enjoyed dancing for fun so it’s been great to learn all the new choreographies with people. He nods along at your words, his eyes are soft and he’s surprisingly respectful of the space between you two and doesn’t try to move too close to make you uncomfortable as you just blabber on about your experiences and what dances were the hardest to learn. Baby has his eyes focussed on the dancers and he’s a little intrigued, not enough to be super invested but just enough that it satiates his boredom. Mystery is listening in on your conversation and occasionally throws in a couple of questions of his own and then Abs and Jinu are still listening to your friend chatter on too.

It’s a little strange that you two don’t seem to have any concerns about talking to some strange men but given the circumstances, it does make sense that you’re just happy to have more people come by and watch.

“Hey guys! Last songs coming out, we’re doing Left & Right and then we’re looping back to Soda Pop to support that new rookie group!” Someone calls from the front and everyone cheers and claps their hands as the familiar pre-chorus of the song starts to play.

» Left & Right - Seventeen (1:56 - 2:30)

The guys are stunned when everyone collectively does Hoshi’s solo move and then they laugh and join in when everyone proceeds to do the ‘Left & Right’ dance, a majority of the crowd had gone to the centre to dance but you and your friend are just doing the choreo in front of them while laughing and nodding your heads to the beat. They can’t help but also join in a little when you guys give them the stink eye, you in particular because ‘there’s no way you haven’t heard this one!’.

Which leads to the impromptu little circle of you guys dancing to the song near the edge of the crowd now, cheering and hyping one another up. Abs is killing the move, groove on point and Mystery surprisingly has decent groove as well. Jinu is a little stiff, Romance is a little over-performative and Baby is just straight grooving as his lazier style works perfectly for the dance. The song keeps playing out as the last bridge and high notes are sung out (albeit poorly) from the group of dancers around you but you’re all still just enjoying yourselves right til the ending count down of the song plays out and the music gets quiet.

As you’re busy calming down from your laughing fit because you may be a little too hyped up on dopamine, Soda Pop starts playing again and they all collectively watch as you and your friend start jumping around at the beats. Like full bouncing and jumping around each other as the song starts and they try not to laugh. Before Baby or even Romance can out them as the Saja Boys, Jinu is quick to bid you guys farewell and thanks you for the fun time since they are admittedly running behind on whatever schedule they had and needed to go.

Your friend whines but dramatically waves good bye at them as she clings off of your shoulder, you look upset as well but you wave them off too. “It was nice meeting you guys!”

“We’ll be back here in 2 weeks! If you guys are interested.” Your friend calls out beside you and you wince at her basically shouting in your ear but soon enough the five of them are gone and you’re back to grooving with your friend. Then you suddenly remember something and turn to her slowly as she gives you a raised brow.

“...hey, did they even tell us their names?”

Huntrix - Dance cover

Kpop in public. It was a pretty popular trend at the moment and no one really bats an eye at the concept anymore, everyone’s recording dance clips to add to the trend so people covering a song and dancing around? Not very out of place anymore. The only ones that were a little foreign to the idea was the Huntrix girls as they’re poorly disguised and walking around enjoying their afternoon to themselves.

“God it feels good to wear sneakers.” Mira lets out as she stretches, her face bare of makeup since the three girls agreed it’s usually easier to get away with sneaking around in public when they weren’t glammed up to the 9s. They’re idly walking around the plaza, wanting to just enjoy a quiet afternoon after getting some brunch and it was just nice not being dolled up.

“That food was so gooood too.” Rumi sings out praise as she pats her stomach, even with the warm weather she’s got a hoodie on and the hood covering her recognisable braid from any prying eyes. Zoey is cheering as well at Rumi’s comment until she pauses and looks around wildly.

“..do you guys hear that?” She asks quizzically as her eyes narrow a little, a familiar sound audible in the bustling crowd. Mira and Rumi share a look about to ask if Zoey’s just a little out of it and needs a food coma nap until they hear it as well. Their song. Their ears perk up instantly and they’re all staring at each other and gleefully trying to look around to see where it could be playing from.

What they don’t expect to see is you and a trio of friends dressed up in outfits similar to their Golden promotion fits, black and gold accented outfits and it looks like you’re all grumbling to yourselves over the song. You’re quiet and nodding your head to whatever it is your friend must’ve been saying and then you scratch your head in confusion as you’re staring at your phone.

“Are they doing a cover..?” Rumi asks and before she can even stop the other two from approaching they’re already ahead of her and bee-lining closer to watch your group perform. Another of your friends had stepped over and handed you a water bottle which you bowed at and took a swig from before handing it off to the other two dancers, you’re currently pausing and replaying a portion of the Golden MV trying to figure out Mira’s choreography since the official dance was yet to be shared.

“Ughh I need them to release the dance already.” One of your friends pipe up and you all collectively nod your heads in agreement. The song was just too good to wait on an official dance to cover and you couldn’t say no when you were bombarded with requests to cover the song as soon as possible so now you’re left replaying a small snippet of the choreo that was shown in the video over and over so you could understand Mira’s footwork for it and the general positioning that you three needed to commit to.

“They’re usually pretty consistent with spacing.. maybe it’s a diagonal line?” You’d questioned aloud as you try again to see what the move was supposed to be because it looked like it was a diagonal formation but it could also have just been their normal triangular formation they tend to stick by or even just a regular straight line formation. You groaned aloud but at the behest of your other dancer friend you all tried to hype yourselves up for another take at the dance.

“Let’s run it back.” Your friend that had sat on the ground briefly to catch her breath is back up now, cheering as she gets back into position and points at the other person that had been recording your guys’ attempts at the dance so far so you can look back and correct yourselves as you went. You cheer too as you hand your phone back to the unofficial water boy and he gives you a thumbs up as he ducks back behind the camera person and you get back into position.

You were covering Mira’s position, it made the most sense stylistically wise as you could mimic her the best and your friends’ both agreed they preferred Rumi or Zoey’s style for their skill sets so it was just always agreed upon that you would normally take up Mira’s position when it came to Huntrix dance covers.

“Are they.. trying to learn the dance just from the MV?” Mira questions and she’s a little stunned that you guys had managed to get most of the intro sequence just from the brief showcases in the MV, she knows that most of it was hidden for the sake of promotion and admittedly is a little stunned that you’d managed to figure out most of the steps just from blind guessing. Zoey and Rumi have stopped talking as they just openly stare at you guys perform.

There’s something stirring inside them and they’re just so happy to see people enjoying the song, they’ve watched you retry the dance maybe 2 or 3 times by now and even though you guys seem a little beat down by how difficult the blind execution was. It was just nice to watch you guys laughing and gushing about how much the song meant to you anyway.

“We did really well on this one.” Rumi manages to say finally after the three were left in collective silence as they sat on a nearby bench to watch you and your friends doing your best. Despite how breathless you all were and how sweaty you must’ve been wearing black in the afternoon sun, you’re still laughing and smiling as you try again for another take.

It seems like you’re all getting ready to pack up and leave for the evening, the girls look at each other trying to telepathically communicate with one another and they all nod in unison as they get up onto their feet and approach you guys. Rumi takes her hoodie off and gives a shy little wave and your friends notice the girls first and start panicking because Huntrix was watching them dance?

You’re thrown off and you can’t help the deep bow you give the girls as they’re talking to you guys and asking about how you’ve been enjoying the comeback, you’re flustered but you can’t help but gleefully answer their questions about things and ask them about if they’re taking a break soon and thanking them for their hard work. Your eyes fall to Mira and you feel your breath get caught in your lungs because it’s Mira. One of your role models when it came to dancing and you couldn’t help but gush at her about how excited you and your friends were for the up-coming choreography to be released and she’s smiling, telling you little snippets and even giving you and your friends small hints on the expected formations so you guys can implement it into your dance cover attempt.

“What’s your guys’ names? Do you have a YouTube channel or anything?” Rumi asks politely and earnestly, and you feel your cheeks hurting from how much you’re smiling right now. Zoey pipes up at Rumi’s question, excitement evident in the way she’s nodding her hands and bouncing a little in place. “Yeah yeah, we’d love to look at your other dance covers if you’re okay with that.”

Thank god you accepted the cover invite.

#kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys x reader #kpdh x reader #huntrix x reader #jinu x reader #abs saja x reader #kdh x reader #rumi x reader #mira x reader #zoey x reader #bin-nons

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neowinestainedress · 1 year ago

Text

wave | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, mentioned weed consumption, alcohol use, fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, jealous sex, bickering, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 22.4k (out of 42k)

a/n: finally i’m back! i started this fic more than a year ago so seeing it finally come to life means everything to me. i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you’ll love it too. please, let me know with comments, reblogs (that also help reach more people), or anon. i love knowing what you think. enjoy! also if there are formatting mistakes please let me know cause i’ve been having problems posting this and i copied it without editing it once again.

masterpost (with visuals and playlist) (i can’t post the link or else the post doesn’t show up in the tags, but you can find it on my profile)

Being number one in your academy isn’t a want, but a need.

You didn’t spend your entire life crafting your skills and splitting yourself between the books and the training room for all of that to be swept under the rug when you finally made it to your dream university; Neo Arts Academy.

Surely, with the prizes promised to those on top, you aren’t the only one with that racing passion to drive you through each day. Tons of people try their best, and even put their health at risk to reach the biggest success, but you manage to focus on yourself and keep your life in a pretty healthy balance.

You managed to focus on you… until something, well, somebody, started to come into your way.

Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, his stage name —if he ever made it big in the industry he wanted to be already known.

You never paid him much attention. Honestly, you never paid attention to anybody, your only goal was to take care of your small garden and top everybody else, but when his competitiveness got the best of him, you just couldn’t push him in the back of your mind.

Apparently, his goals are the same as yours, and that isn’t a nice thing considering how competitive your world is. You first truly glanced at him during a songwriting lesson, when he huffed a bit too loudly behind you while he announced to his friend, probably named Mark, that he sucked at writing songs. However, you only chuckled mindlessly that time and went on with your day.

That was your first year there and everything went fine. Then the second year arrived and you applied for your minor degree in dance and that was when Donghyuck’s presence started to be louder. You had nothing against him, but you quickly learned he couldn’t stand you for some reason. Rumours were quick at flying around, being passed from mouth to ear and you knew them.

You simply couldn’t care.

Yet.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. He could never do that. After all, he doesn’t even know you. But he does know something about you. He knows your name, and how it is always on top of his in any ranking. He knows you will always win the contests he wants to win so badly. He knows you are good at theory and practice. He knows he just can’t win with you.

He also knows nothing can touch you. Not because you are unreachable and believe you’re superior to others. Actually, you are very modest about all your academic success, but you always walk straight on your road with the goal perfectly in the line of view.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. Though, lately, he has a strange feeling in his body every time he sits at his desk to study and his only motivation is to surpass you. Nothing different than the first months there, he got pretty soon you were going to be a tough but nice competitor, but fuck he never imagined you would be so hard to beat. Now that after a year he never won or got the top grade and always came second after you, you aren’t motivating him, you are driving him insane.

He doesn’t have many distractions, but he has friends, some hobbies outside of university, and even a part-time job. But you? Is there something that is distracting you? Is there anything that could distract you? He has no idea, not now that he is watching you walk into the room, ready for the classical ballet history class —yes, of course out of all the minors, you had to choose his— and sit a few rows in front of him, all alone as always, taking out your lilac book note and your pen.

Haechan has no idea, but he is going to find out something that can easily distract you and push out of your path.

You know people think of university as a moment to socialise, but being on your own has never been a problem for you. You have contacts with some of your hometown friends, and most importantly, you don’t mind doing things alone; you can go to the cinema when you want, you can pick whatever restaurant you like, you can take a walk, or stay at home.

You’ve always been comfortable in your bubble, and you’d like to keep it that way, but life has strange plans.

“Damn, always on a rush.” You recognize Haechan’s voice, but you don’t bother turning around because you’re sure he’s not addressing you. You think it’s weird he’s sitting next to you, but you blink the surprise away and grab your tablet from your bag. “Whoever put music theory at 8:30 in the morning on a Monday needs to go to jail.”

You chuckle at his comment, subtly rolling your eyes before opening the note app to go where you left it in the previous lesson.

“You write a lot.” This time you’re quite sure he’s talking to you, so your neck turns to look at him and you find him closer than you’d like him to be.

“I annotate, it’s just the essentials.”

He scans the notes quickly before scoffing. “The essentials? I don’t write as half as that.”

“Well, I think this is essential, but we all work differently,” while you’re answering him, you don’t even notice that his friend is not beside him, and you get lost in him for a second, mostly in the scent that’s filling your nostrils now that his brown jacket is so close to you.

“The professor talks too fast, how the fu— how do you get everything?” He stops himself from cursing and backs away, finally making you breathe some air that is not filled with his intoxicating perfume.

“I rewrite phrases. And, to be sure, I record the lessons, so I can re-listen to them in case something doesn’t make sense when I study them. And then I also re-write the not—”

“You record the lessons?” He almost snarls with his eyes bulging out of his skull as he, once again, stands too close to you.

“Is it illegal?” Your head tilts to the side as genuine curiosity blooms on your face.

“No, it’s… it’s…” he sighs, throwing his head back and cursing something under his breath in a tight dialect you don’t recognize. “I never thought about it.”

“Oh, well, it helps me a lot. Sometimes when I’m too tired to read I just play the lessons and memorize stuff while I do other things,” you smile, moving your hair to one side of your neck before grabbing the pen when the professor walks in. “You should try.”

“Oh, you can be sure I will.”

Haechan can’t be so stupid. He can’t believe he can be so stupid. Why didn’t he ever, ever, think about that? That’s a smart idea, better than crying and cursing when he tries to understand what he wrote down on paper when he revisits the notes, or asking Mark if he wrote some phrases he had marked down with several question marks or dots to fill —dots that he never fills.

But he’s still sure he can’t be a terrible student, he had always been on top of his classes, always aced them and his study method worked… but what if yours worked better? Given the results of the past year, and the start of this one, the answer is clear: yours do work better.

But he doesn’t think that it’s the only reason you are beating him in everything. What if you have other tricks?

Haechan is going to find out.

You always believed your only competition was yourself. You never liked to engage with other people and fight them or fear them. But Haechan had given you no choice.

It was an open threat at you when he purposefully told you a different day to turn in an assignment when you were sick, you had no choice but to fight back.

That was when Haechan truly became your rival. He had always been, you two were always at the top, fighting for the first place and the big prizes, but now it was a matter of pride.

Haechan had officially made it on top of your blacklist, at least he could arrive number one in something, not like there was a big competition to be in there, in fact, you didn’t even have one before he pushed your last nerve.

Fucking it up with you wasn’t Haechan’s plan, he wanted to befriend you and trick you into giving him some magic tricks, but things went… wrong. With Mark by his side, it was impossible to sit next to you. During songwriting you got up and sat on another seat in the middle of the lesson with the excuse of ‘not seeing from afar’, and he couldn’t approach you in any other circumstances. So, when you got sick for three days, he thought he could, for once, steal your spotlight.

He wasn’t sure you were sick, but he was sure enough you weren’t going to miss lessons days to study or work on projects; you never needed extra time, unfortunately, he knew it well. So the only thing that could lock you in your place was an illness of some kind. He did feel bad when you came back four days later and asked him if you missed something, he could see you still weren’t at your best, and he could’ve tried his luck by telling you the truth, hoping that the precarious state you were in was going to make you come up with a terrible essay on an instrument of the 18th century, but his eagerness got the best of him, and he lied.

So he had officially screwed his plan of getting closer to you.

“You are an asshole,” you scream, slamming the books in front of him on the table in the garden, not caring about his friends staring at you in shock. “And don’t look at me with that face of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ because you know what I’m referring to.”

“I don’t, though…” he whispers, trying to keep a distance between you because you look scary —half bent on the table, furrowed forehead, pointing finger— and he thinks you are very motivated to reach over his neckline and strangle him.

You roll your eyes, groaning in annoyance. “You told me Professor Kim left an essay for Monday, I thought I could use the weekend to do an amazing job and he called me to his office because I was three days late.”

Haechan gulps, and the table goes silent, you feel his friends’ gazes on you but they are the last thing in your mind.

“Mind to explain?”

“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”

“You have to ask me if you are an asshole because your mother didn’t put a brain in your skull?”

“Hey, take it back!” He warns with a pointing finger, glaring at you.

“No,” you retort, crossing your arms on your chest and standing up straight. “You sabotaged me.”

“You are making things up. Maybe you should be in the creative writing major,” Haechan taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.

You gasp offended, clenching your fists to avoid wrapping your hands around his neck. “You — you — ugh,” you huff. “This paper was graded! And you knew it, it’s part of the mid-course work he adds to our final grade. Why would you do that to me?”

“You think I did that on purpose?”

“When did you turn it in?” You ask and when his eyes widen you scream at his face. “See! You turned it on time. I fucking hate you!”

“I didn’t answer,” he tries to defend, a challenging edge in his voice, getting to your nerves more than the look on his face.

“First of all, I can see it in your face. You’re trying to look surprised and even scared, but you’re having the time of your life because, guess what, you can’t surpass me if you don’t play your stupid games.”

He snorts offended, gulping before leaning closer. “You think I can’t beat you?”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what the rankings say, it’s what our professors say, and it’s what all the external opportunities I’ve got say. But if you want to try to prove facts wrong, bring it on,” you shrug, grabbing your things and taking a step back. “No more dirty games from now on, Lee Donghyuck. Trust me, you don’t want me to start playing them too, you might not even see the top three if I do.”

The months to come are fire. You should keep minding your business but as soon as he opens his mouth in class you can’t press your lips together and fake it. You try, every time, but you fail.

“I just mean that the melody is what attracts people,” he argues during a discussion in the songwriting class.

You huff, shaking your head. “People care about the lyrics more.”

He scoffs loudly and the professor glares at him for the reaction but he still goes on. “People won’t listen to a song if the production sucks.”

You turn around, eyebrows pressed in a furrow. “And they won’t listen to a song if the lyrics are dumb, or tell a bad message.”

“Really? Catchy pop music is a thing even if you want so badly to maintain the purity of the art of music with only lyrical depth.”

“I love catchy pop songs, but there’s something objective in music and something subjective, if you paid attention to any of our classes you should know, right?”

The class holds back a laugh and the professor coughs, making you utter an apologize, more addressed to her than your enemy.

“Oh, trust me, I paid attention to class,” he retorts, mockingly smiling at you. “And we’re not talking about the quality but the appeal. People remember the rhythm of the song or the tune more than they remember the words.”

“And words can hold so much meaning for someone they will stick to them forever. Also, lyrics can have different interpretations and if you’re a good writer you can make one song fit for more occasions.”

“That’s dumb,” he says, looking at you up and down after scoffing. “Notes can transfer different emotions, what you said just doesn’t make sense, please.”

“Can we tone it down?” Professor Park warns, glaring at the both of you.

You nod and mutter another apology before speaking up again, “I believe that a good melody can easily attract people at first listen, but if we talk about the long run, a memorable song also needs good lyrics. And Mariah Carey herself said how being a songwriter makes your career last more, so I think it’s telling coming from one of the best voices ever.”

“I think you both make a great point,” the professor cuts the conversation off before you can jump at each other’s throat again. “It would be interesting to make a deeper analysis and maybe break down songs and compare data over time. If it was possible to keep the decorum…” she whispers the last word and you want to disappear because you hate the scene you gave. “But we need to move on with our lesson, so, as I was saying…”

Out of all the heated discussions you had in class, the one about the importance of production and lyrics, led to your worst nightmare, working on a project with him. Professor Park was so nice to pair you together because she wanted to see how your different points of view would’ve worked in the song you had to write and produce and even if you smiled and said, ‘it will be really motivating,’ to avoid yelling at her face, now you want to die.

You’re sure the first two knocks on the door don’t even reach the other side; your hits are too weak and the small apartment in that complex is too loud for anyone to hear. Is this the environment you have to work in today?

You roll your eyes and knock again, this time making sure it’s impossible for them not to hear you. You wait there only for a few seconds and then the door opens, revealing a boy your age you can’t remember.

“Oh, hi,” he cheers, big toothy smile beaming at you. “You must be here for Hyuck, right?”

You hum, nodding and murmuring, “Yes, I have to work on a project with Haechan.”

“Come in.”

You step inside the house and look around briefly before your eyes fall on the table in the small living room; there are books everywhere, headphones on the ground, boxes of food and empty water bottles, and most importantly talks too loud for four boys that were supposedly studying.

“Mark, can you lower the music?”

“Music is what I’m studying, I can’t,” the man you know well replies. “Why don’t you keep your pencil close to you? Jesus, there’s graphite everywhere.”

“You’re so annoying, I can’t go in my room, Jeno still didn’t take down the light boxes,” the brown-haired replies, sending a death glare to the boy at his side who quickly replies to his defence.

“Hey, I finished shooting half an hour ago and now I have an essay to write, leave me alone.”

“They’re entertaining, aren’t they?” Haechan’s voice brings you out of the haze of his bickering friends, their conversation fades in the background while your anger level rises just seeing his face when you turn around.

“Surely more entertaining than you,” you retort before taking a step forward, pretending to know where to go in that house.

Haechan rolls his eyes, thanking his friend who opened the door —Jaemin— and coming next to you. “You don’t know where my room is yet, so if you’d like to follow me.”

You trail behind him, waving at the men around the table but it’s clear that none of them even noticed your presence. Luckily for you, Donghyuck’s room is at the end of the corridor and the mess that goes down in the other room is not hearable enough to make your day a living hell.

“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks after you sit at one of the chairs at his desk.

You shake your head, fixing your skirt and pulling out some things you might need from your bag. “Wanted to hear from you first. Since the melody is so crucial, we should start from that,” you mock in a fake-sweet tone, and you feel his glare on your skin.

“You truly are a pain in the ass, you know?” He scoffs, moving his hair out of his face, gaze fixed on you.

“And for what? Because I agreed with your theory?”

“If you have a melody in mind it’s easier to make the words flow.”

“If the melody has nothing to do with the idea, you only have some notes and not a song.”

Now that there aren’t rows of chairs dividing you, the heated argument has led you face to face, literally. And you feel your heart pound in your chest from the anger and, also because it’s weird to be this close to a stranger you can’t stand.

“Okay, Miss Taylor Swift, why don’t you enlighten me and show me what you got?”

You glare at him but he’s unfazed, holding the eye contact proudly. “My lyrics will be better than your production.”

“And are those lyrics in the room with us?”

“God,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air and your head back. “You drive me insane.”

“And you are pretentious and still never prove all the things that that little, bratty, annoying mouth of yours says.”

Deep creases show on your forehead, and you have to turn around because if you see his face for a second more you will slap him. But you want this project done, you have four weeks to turn it in, but you want this torture to be over as soon as possible, so you know you have to put the pettiness aside.

“If we want a great result and good grades, we need good lyrics and a good melody,” you say, calmly facing him again, slowly watching as his face softens. “My words and your production. I don’t care what comes to us first, if you think it can be useful, we could even brainstorm some tunes and catchphrases and then build it around it.”

“Now you’re making some sense,” he exclaims, smiling widely before patting the top of your head. “So that head is not empty.”

“Oh, seriously? I’m trying to have a truce, and you fuck it all up again?”

“No, sorry, I just think you’re really smart when it comes to college but a bit annoying when it comes to life.”

“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”

“I can,” he retorts smugly.

“Then why don’t you do it?” You tease, cocking your head to the side.

Haechan scoffs, lips twitching in a quick smirk before he wets them. “I didn’t yet, but are you so sure I won’t?” He whispers, breath colliding with your lips and nose brushing yours, your brain doesn’t even register his hands on your legs right away, only when his fingers caress your bare skin right above the hem you wake up from the haze of having him so close.

“Time will — time will prove us,” you say, turning to the desk and scratching your neck. “Time will tell us, not prove us.”

Haechan snickers, moving closer to see on your tablet where you opened the notes, and smiles smugly. He thinks he found a way to distract you.

The project isn’t done in the first week, and to put a cherry on top, Professor Park decides to make it the big project for the end of the class, adding a cover for the single, a plan to sponsor it, and, if someone feels brave enough, even to record it. Even if you wanted to, a thing this big, and now with so much weight on the final grade, can’t be done in one week.

Yet, you think you’ll have to deal with Haechan only on your weekly meet-ups for that project and during lessons, you never imagined you would have to deal with him even during your library study on Wednesday.

“Why are you studying in the middle of the week?”

“You know, if I had to replicate a sound every time we start a conversation it would be ‘and now, I just want to sit back and relax and enjoy my evening, when all of a sudden I hear this agitating grating voice,’ and that is the sound that plays in my mind, actually.”

“Grating? Really?”

“Well, it’s the quote but it fits,” you reply sternly, bringing your attention back to the book. “Also, the question is not, why am I studying, but why aren’t you? How will you beat me if you don’t?” You wink, laughing under your breath. You don’t even need to see his reaction; you know his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare for a brief second every time you tease him.

You hear the chair in front of you scratch on the floor, and deeply hope he’s not sitting on it. But Haechan is sitting on it, staring at you as if he could steal the information from your brain and pass it to his.

“I am studying.”

“No, you’re not,” you reply, eyes widening when he rips a page from your notebook and a pen from your case. “So, what have you learned since now?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes to the sky and instead run a hand on your face while sighing deeply. There’s just no way to get rid of him, right?

“You don’t even know what I’m studying.”

“Sound design,” he replies promptly, and you look down to see if he could’ve gotten a grasp from your books but there’s a paper on it and there’s not much written on it. Haechan smiles and moves to the chair next to you. “It’s because I started it too, there are too many notions, it would be a suicide to wait for the finals.”

“Oh, so you do something else other than think about me,” you tease, nudging him with your leg.

“Hey! I don’t think about you,” he replies firmly, frowning.

“Sure,” you huff, waving him off. “So, what do you know?”

“Well, all the basis we learnt last year, so the definition of sound, the path it follows, how it’s perceived based on the medium and how fast it travels through them, slowest through gases, faster through liquids, and fastest through solids, and that temperature effects it as well.”

You smile, content with the reply but you want to test him more. “What about the five characteristics of sound?”

“You think that’s a difficult one?” He asks, almost disappointed at the easiness of your question.

“Well, if you want to impress me so bad, I could ask you to list all the types of compressors?”

“You already know that?” He questions, quirking a brow, trying to think why he doesn’t remember them. “Wait, we didn’t do that in class.”

You laugh. “See, you’re witty. No, we haven’t done that yet, but since you love producing so much, I thought you knew it as personal knowledge.”

“Why do you talk as if you don’t want to do the same job as mine?” There’s a bit of annoyance in his tone, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes.

You shrug, pressing your lips together before diverting your gaze.

Haechan gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you want to do, yet, because I won’t believe it.”

“It’s not that I don’t know,” you reply, a low huff leaving your lips. “I’d like to try different things out, being a PR manager sounds interesting too. And I’m also pretty good at dancing, so that could be a career path.”

“It’s a shame we didn’t start practical courses, I would love to see you dance.”

“Yeah, sure, so you can mock me some more,” you groan.

He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t enroll in a program if you weren’t absolutely perfect at it, so I can’t come at your skills.”

“You’re so kind, I think I might love you,” you mock, moving closer to him and pouting before pushing him away with a light push on his chest and focusing on your papers again.

“And by the way, I know the characteristics of sound,” he says, right next to your face.

You smile and think to yourself that this might be fun. “Good, go on and tell me.”

You don’t get why Haechan’s roommate bicker so much. Not that you could lecture them when, as soon as you walk inside his room, your talks won’t be much different than theirs (worse, probably). But you think you and Haechan, at least, have a reason to fight so much. His roommates are… weird. They are close. They all are, in an annoying way almost, always moving in packs and breaking their back to meet up even if their institutes are scattered around in the Academy. Yet, they get heated pretty easily when they sit in the living room, and you can only blame it on stress as you chuckle, standing against the countertop with a glass of water in hand.

“Donghyuck left you all alone?” Jeno enters the kitchen, distracting you from Renjun screaming at his painting and Mark cursing while he tries to come up with a melody for a small assignment you decided to not worry about —you have Haechan to worry about now.

“Yep, told me to be here at 2 pm just to be in the shower instead,” you reply with a tight smile on your face that makes him laugh and scroll the black hair out of his face.

“My fault,” he explains while pouring himself a glass. “I convinced him to stay at the basketball field when we finished and he couldn’t meet up with you smelling like rotten leftovers forgotten under the august sun.”

“Creative writing?” You ask after you chuckle at his description.

“Nope, photography, Renjun’s worst nightmare.”

You laugh. “It’s because you leave all those big things around his room, right?”

“Our room,” he says, empathising on the first word.

“Okay, communism king, your room but I don’t think your comrade is happy about it.”

Jeno laughs, and hums before gulping down a sip of water. “I’m not rich yet to afford a studio so he’ll have to deal with his bestie working, sweating, and crying his way to the top.”

“You could’ve been a nepo baby and have everything handed to you.”

“Sucks not to be one. I wouldn’t even bother being in Uni, just leaving my best life with my camera and daddy’s money.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Haechan says entering the kitchen, hair still damp and casual housewear on.

“None of your business,” you reply, placing the glass in the sink and walking to the door. “Come on, we have a song to create. It could be our first Billboard number one.”

Haechan sighs, snatching the bottle of water from Jeno’s hand, briefly confused at his grinning face, and then follows you quickly.

“Are you trying to hit on my friends?” He asks, closing the door behind.

“Would you mind?”

“Yes, I’d hate having to deal with you in our group hangouts.”

“You already deal with me. More than you should since you always come to me even when we could not be together,” you say, tilting your head to the side, and sitting on your assigned chair. “Are you perhaps jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”

“Nah, you can go and fuck all of them right no—”

“Okay,” you don’t even let him finish and you’re at the door, but he springs after you and stops you.

“What are you doing? I was kidding!”

“Why? Since when you can tell me what to do?”

Haechan groans and drags you back to your place, but he doesn’t sit just yet, he’s bent over to be close to you. “I need you here with me to work on this goddam song, and then you can go and have a gangbang in the living room, I don’t care.”

“You’d be mad you won’t be part of it,” you joke, having the time of your life watching his pissed-off expression as he stomps loudly back at his place. “Accept that you will never win with me, and maybe you won’t be so triggered every time we talk.”

“Shit, it’s late,” you murmur, lifting your head from the lyrics you’re trying to write down. Now you got the theme —it’s a love song that you hope won’t turn lame— and even a faint idea of a tune, and while Haechan tried to get inspired by other songs and tried instruments he wants to add to the track, you worked on the words.

“Don’t you think we’re trying too hard?” He whispers, placing the guitar on his bed before standing up and stretching.

“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your neck so you can look at him after you turn around on the rotating chair.

“Music should come to you, it should be… spontaneous.”

You’d want to roll your eyes, mostly for the spontaneous part, but he’s right. Most artists don’t think about the songs they make, the song comes to their mind when they’re not thinking about it.

“Yes, but do you think we’re doing such a shitty job with this?”

He shakes his head, walking closer to you. “Not totally, I just think that if we want to be on top, we have to work around it differently.”

You gulp when he hovers over you and grips the side of the chair tightly. “Like?”

“We should… relax. Take our mind off of it and just wait for it to come,” he glances at the desk, studying the crumpled tries you gave up on and the only three phrases you were happy with written on the tablet. “We should get inspired,” he whispers, and you’re once again so focused on his face that you don’t feel his hand on your thigh, under the long black skirt you’re wearing, it surely must’ve been on you for a while if the fabric was already crumpled up and his fingers teased the hem of your panties between your hips and stomach.

“Is — is this how you inspire people?” You ask, glancing down with a rising chest but for some reason not pulling away.

“Don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” he chuckles, slowly moving closer to your core, observing the small signs of your body. “Should we see if it works?”

You hate him. You should be working on that lyric for the last half hour you have left. You hate him. He’s making it impossible for you to stick to your ‘minding my business’ plan that had worked through all your school years. You hate him, you do, and yet you nod, humming a feeble ‘yes,’ in response.

“Good,” rolls out of his lips, and it sounds so different from his usual tone, you can’t help but feel hot.

Your nails sink in the chair when his fingers slip right against your clit after he had your consent and starts teasing it.

“So, it’s a love song…” he says, and you frown, heart pumping louder as for a second you think he led you on and you looked like a pathetic horny loser, but his hand is still playing with your pussy and his face is still close to yours. “Chose that because you have somebody in mind?”

“We literally picked it for a reason last week, you —”

“God,” he shushes you up, pushing the panties to the side and teasing your entrance, it’s already damp, but not enough how he wants it. “Can you stop being so rational for once? I know why we picked it; remember I’m trying to inspire you.”

“Wait, you really think some fingering can inspire me to write a love so—” your words shut down when he places a hand on your mouth, eyes widening but pussy leaking an embarrassing amount of cum.

He quirks a brow in surprise and, shortly after, a smug smirk curls his lips. “Oh, so you’re into that?”

You can’t reply, but even if you could’ve, you’re not sure you would’ve said anything.

“So, anybody in mind?”

You shake your head. Your love life has been anything but exciting, and after a few tries, you were sure it wasn’t what you needed to focus on, especially because nobody sparked your interest. Nobody was worth moving your focus from your studies.

“Great, so I guess that’ll have to be me.”

“What?” You mutter muffled, closing your legs and moving on the chair.

Haechan rolls his eyes in his skull, keeping you in place. “Oh, come on, you can fake it for a few minutes. Don’t act disgusted, I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he says.

“Not yet.”

“I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he retorts after he pushes into you with two fingers, staring right into your eyes.

You bite back a moan and a curse under your breath. “Fine, but I don’t want to think,” you say. “Just, prove it to me. If you’re good, I’ll be inspired and I’ll come up with the lyrics, if you suck, we’ll go back to our original method.”

Haechan hates that he constantly has to prove things to you, and he hates even more that he does it, almost as if he’s your dog and he has to follow your orders while you keep him on a leash. But if this will work to come up with a great song, and in his outer-songwriting-course-plan to distract you, he won’t complain.

Honestly, he couldn’t complain even if it only meant to finger you. He might want to fight you every time he sees your face but, damn, what a face.

“Shit,” you moan. You don’t want to give him too much satisfaction, but he knows what he’s doing and it’s been way too long since someone touched you like that. Damn, even since you touched yourself like that. Maybe the whole ‘staring at your goals’ was taking some funny things away from you.

“Do you want to turn the song into a Hozier song?”

You huff, you just asked him one thing and his mouth is running again doing the opposite. “You wish you were this good to inspire a Hozier type of song.”

“Really?” He taunts, pressing his thumb on your clit, starting to tease the throbbing nub in circles.

“Yes,” your voice trembles, but your face shows confidence.

Haechan snickers, quickening the pace of his fingers, watching you fight against yourself to not show how much you’re loving it. “One second of this mouth on your pussy and I’d make you change your mind,” he whispers right against your ears, hot breath fanning your skin. “It’s a shame you don’t deserve it.”

You groan, head rolling back in disappointment, and that makes him laugh.

“You have to think twice before running that mouth, babe. Especially with me.”

“Never,” you talk back, opening your eyes and regretting as soon as they meet his. His gaze is too intense, and your brain is too far gone to keep it up.

Haechan only grins, enjoying your wrecked face and the sounds your pussy is making as his fingers keep working on you. You might try to deny him, but your body is speaking to him, and deeply so are you. It’s in your eyes, and your lips trembling, and in the beautiful moans that are rolling out of your tongue.

“Are you close, brat?”

You don’t have it in you to complain, or retort, the orgasm is right around the corner and you fear he would ruin the experience if you said something out of line.

“Answer me,” he orders, lightly slapping your thigh.

“Yes,” you breathe out, biting your lower lip to prevent the whole house from hearing you.

“Good,” he replies, smiling proudly and starting to move faster in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he reaches the base, and torturing your clit with his thumb. And when it’s too much for you, you come. Body trembling against the chair, and legs pushing up as the shocks of pleasure run through you.

“Acid when you talk but sweet to taste,” he hums after pulling out his fingers from his mouth and you only glare at him as you quickly try to get yourself together again.

“It’s late,” he says, staring at the clock. “Go home and let me know if this was useful somehow. And not by replaying it in your mind at night wishing I was there with you.” He winks and you slap his shoulder hard. “What the hell!”

“I won’t come up with anything on purpose, and I swear if you keep being so annoying, I’ll be terrible at this.”

“You would never, this makes up like 80% of our final grade.” He challenges you with a glare.

“If I go down, you go down with me,” you retort, face to face, fiercely looking into his eyes.

“It’s not smart of you.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you smile sweetly before it drops from your face. “It’s a threat.”

It’s not like you’re trying to avoid him after what happened, but that’s exactly what’s going on. You don’t regret the act per se, you just can’t believe it was so easy for you to agree to do that with him. And you know he will use it against you for eternity.

A very dumb move from your side to give him the possibility to tease you even more and about something you couldn’t defend yourself from.

But if you try your best to change corridors when you see him from afar, walk quickly back to your dorm room, and sit on the opposite side in class (you fail at keeping your mouth quiet, but you need to discuss with him during lessons), it seems like he’s doing everything he can to be on your path.

“I’m starting to believe you’re a stalker,” you huff, clearly scaring him when you stop abruptly in the middle of the library and make him stop in his tracks.

“I’m not.”

You raise a brow, staring at him until he huffs and throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, fine, I was following you but only because I wanted to know what you will study.”

“Why do you care so much about what I study?”

“So I know how to beat you?”

“Isn’t it more exciting if you beat me only using your brain by putting some knowledge in it without seeing my cards?” You say, pushing a finger on his chest and making him walk backwards until his back hits the bookshelf behind him.

“I think sneaky games are funnier, though,” he whispers, hand moving to rest on your side. “Especially with you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, and taking a step back, freeing yourself from his hold. “The games you’re playing are not sneaky. Why are you always in my business?”

He shrugs. “Why not? So, what are we studying today?”

“We are not studying together.”

“Why? Isn’t it funny? The same study method, same hours, but one of us will be better than the other. That’s a truly equal comparison.”

You run a hand on your face and keep walking to find what you need. “If you didn’t distract me every two seconds, I would’ve already been like five pages into my studying session.”

“Oh, please, you are wondering around the library anyway. I’m just keeping you company.” His body follows yours like a shadow, his heat radiating so close to your skin that you think you might go insane.

“I don’t want your company,” you say, moving your eyes swiftly over the books in front of you as you try to find what you are looking for in the sociology section. When you finally find it, reminding yourself you have to buy it so you can annotate directly on yours, you walk back to your table, but Haechan is still beside you like a puppy on a string. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I could, and I’d want to, but I can’t,” he says, sitting at your side, smiling widely when you glare at him.

“This is a useless lesson for you,” you try to dismiss him.

“Is it? Because we have the same ones.”

“Jesus, okay, fine,” you give up, throwing your head back and raising your voice enough to make some heads turn in your direction. His biggest talent is to exasperate you. “But we give ourselves a timing, and then when we’re done, we’ll have to answer five questions.”

“And who answers to them all?” He asks, there’s a taunting edge in his voice, and a grin on his face.

“Is the best,” you reply as if it’s obvious.

“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”

“Being better than you is the prize.”

Haechan scoffs, and he hates to admit in his mind that he finds your snarky remarks so fucking hot, if you weren’t in a public library and if his job on earth wasn’t to detest you, he would’ve already had you bent on the table.

“I love how you’re always so sure of being better than me.”

You snicker and send him a flying kiss. “Honey, I am better than you.”

“Wait, I just left out a detail!” You almost scream when you compare your answers for the nth time because you can’t believe he has done slightly better than you.

“That detail is important,” Haechan replies unfazed by your indignation.

“No, it’s not. We would have the same score if this was graded,” you insist, feeling more angered than you should. It’s nothing serious, it shouldn’t be serious, but with him, there’s your pride on the line.

“But this is between me and you, so I win. Also, my phrasing in the second answer is better than yours.”

“Shut up, it’s not.”

“It is, and you just have to admit you lost,” he insists, leaning over, staring at you with a challenging raised brow.

You swallow, eyebrows furrowing, and then you sigh. “Your advantage is minimal. And you only won a battle, because I’m winning a war.”

“Fine, Napoleon, I still won and you’re coming to my place even Saturday so we can do this some more.”

“Hey, Napoleon sucked! He lost the most important battles, the only ones he should’ve won.”

“That’s why I called you that,” he winks, clicking his tongue mockingly.

“Oh, you think you will win the war? You’re wrong, honey, Waterloo is yours.”

Haechan laughs, standing up after putting his things in his bag. “I’m waiting for you on Saturday…” he says and before you can complain he starts singing, “Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…”

“Oh, shut up!” You say, hitting his arm as you push him away, but he giggles and walks away continuing with the tune.

“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to…”

And you think that if only he didn’t try to sabotage your final grades in Music History, you might even find him funny.

Haechan hates you.

If he was sure he didn’t before, he is sure that he does now.

He can’t wrap his head around the fact that you, Miss zero social skills, and negative 100 friends, can be so good at debating. On every fucking topic. You’re well-spoken, witty, smart, somehow it looks like you know everything about everything. And even when you don’t know (and you always specify it — which he shouldn’t find so hot, but he does) you always come up with perfectly thought theories and analyses coming from the small knowledge you have on the topic. The thing he also hates is that you never sound like you’re showing off your skills, it’s just really nice to listen to you and —when he’s not the one intervening against you— you’re the sweetest person ever and everybody in every class absolutely adores you.

He wonders if you’re a robot. Maybe you’re some sort of artificial intelligence sent there to conduct studies on humans’ stupidity, and he was unlucky enough to start a fight with you. You just don’t seem real. And he’d love to dig deeper but he doubts he will find anything relevant.

You might be smart, but you also look incredibly boring. He tried to find out if you had interests, or anything that could distract you, but his research led nowhere. The biggest problem is that he hates you, but not to the point that he wants to get you suspended from University, so he has to find another way to make you slip.

Apparently, you’re playing the same game, but even at this, you are thinking faster and smarter.

“Where the fuck are all my anthropology notes?” Haechan mutters as he looks through his library, moving books and notebooks around, thinking he has gone insane. “Mark!” He screams, rushing to the desk to search again but he knows where he left everything; on the second shelf of the small library in his room, on top of the music theory book that hasn’t moved since a week.

“Yes?” His housemate peaks from the door only with his head.

“Did you mistake our notes?”

“What notes?” Mark furrows, backing away from his friend who looks out of his mind.

“The anthropology notes,” he says, voice full of annoyance because, why does Mark never know anything? He’s in the same course and, yet, he’s always somewhere else with his head.

“Man, I don’t even take notes during that lesson.”

“What do you mean you don’t? Ugh, never mind,” Haechan groans, rolling his eyes because he can’t believe he can’t count on anybody. “Have you seen them somewhere?”

“Nope,” Mark replies, entering the room. “I mean, I don’t know what they look like.”

“You know right we have a test tomorrow? The winter break is close, and some courses have it. You are studying, right?”

“Yeah, just not every…thing…”

Haechan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Why don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s not really music related but it teaches you so much about other cultures and there��s a whole part about how music is different from culture to culture.”

“Next semester, we didn’t get there, yet. It’s a bunch of complicated terminology and theories I just don’t get,” Mark defends. He never understood why Haechan loved studying so much. He is only there for the music, and a few other theoretical lessons, but some courses don’t make any sense to him.

“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”

“I just want a decent result; I don’t strive for perfection like you and your girlie.”

Haechan almost chokes on his saliva. “My girlie? Who’s my girlie?”

“That girl in class you always get into heated arguments with, and then she comes here and I’m pretty sure you make out when no one’s watching,” Mark says so calmly it infuriates Haechan more than if he was teasing him.

“Shut the hell up! She’s my mortal enemy and while you have been paired with Yangyang for the song project, Professor Park thought it was nice putting her and me together.”

“Yeah, you can still make out with your mortal enemy,” he snorts, hitting his friend with a playful elbow hit.

“Mark, shut up and leave, I have to study,” he tries to cut short, pushing his friend out of the room.

“With what notes?”

“I don’t know. I left them on the shelf, and nobody entered my room since Saturday when she — Oh, my God.”

When your name resonates in the empty classroom after you’ve taken the anthropology test, your blood freezes for a second.

“Haechannie,” you cheer cheekily, turning around and pushing your tote bag far up your shoulders.

“Don’t,” he warns, lifting a finger to stop you from starting anything. “I have to talk to you.”

“Sure, the test was easy, right? You might have beaten me this time,” you say but you have to hold back a laugh when you scan his furious, pissed-off expression.

“Yeah, if you studied, it was,” he retorts venously.

“And you surely studied,” you say, faking innocence.

“You can study when you have something to study on,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, and you do,” you still play dumb, but when he calls your surname, you know he’s not joking anymore. “Yes?”

“Do you, perhaps, know where the fuck my notes are?”

You look around, shrugging. “Where are your notes, Donghyuck?”

“I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason,” he retorts, plastering a fake smile that doesn’t reflect in the darkness of his pupils.

“They might’ve mixed up with my stuff when you invited me over Saturday?” You sing-song, tilting your head to the side and shrugging.

“Might’ve,” he repeats, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “It was just a coincidence.”

You shrug again, pushing your lower lip in a pout. “Sometimes… things happen.”

“And if it wasn’t on purpose, why couldn’t you just text me?”

“Because I didn’t notice,” you reply innocently, batting your lashes, knowing it will get on his nerves even more.

He groans, closing his eyes to calm himself down before he speaks again, “then how do you know?”

“Don’t know, just making assumptions,” you say. “It turns out I’m really good at it.”

“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”

“To what? Choke me because I got my revenge? Oh, it turns out it’s really not that funny when someone plays with you?” You mock, and in doing so you get closer to him.

“Goddamn,” he groans before your back meets the hard wall of the room and his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, his hands on your body and yours limp at your side as you’re too shocked to react. “I want to — I want to kill you, actually.”

You smirk, chuckling straight at his face. “Filled the space with the wrong letter, ‘cause you’re kissing me.”

“Maybe my kiss is lethal, maybe there’s poison on my lips.”

“Oh, you’re so romantic you’d die for me?” You coo, placing a hand on your heart.

Haechan groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you always so, so, so, God,” he curses, running his fingers in his hair. “I want my notes back, now.”

“I don’t have them,” you say, grinning because he looks wrecked. You know it wasn’t very morally mature for you, but it was only fair. Also, you know he doesn’t arrive last minute with anything, he had already studied everything and you’re sure he had answered everything on that paper, he just couldn’t revisit.

“My notes back when you pass by for the project or it’s war.”

“It’s already war,” you retort when he walks past you to leave.

Haechan turns around, locking his gaze with yours. “Oh, honey, it can get so much worse than this.”

You felt like testing your luck when his notes weren’t back on his desk, but you had no idea it could get worse than that, until it got.

When he deleted an essay from your computer and you had to remake and finish the work of five days in five hours, so you cancelled a project he was working on for another assignment you had. And then he erased the recording of a course from your phone, so you ripped his notebook in front of his eyes (and his roommates too). The list of petty things is long, and you’re not really proud (you’re sure not even Haechan is) of what you did, especially when things started becoming personal. You two want to destroy each other, but you are honestly just killing yourselves in the meantime.

Your book slams closed so hard that you almost zip your hands in it, and by protecting your fingers you lose track of where you’ve been. “Get lost,” you whisper bitterly as soon as you recognize the hand that did that.

“No thanks,” he replies, sitting next to you.

“I’m trying to read a book in the quiet of the library, so can you leave me alone?”

“It’s a public space, I can sit wherever I want,” he replies, leaning back into the chair, and widening his legs under the table. You know ‘cause you feel his knee push against yours and you have to retract your leg to avoid the contact.

You glare at him, breathing deeply through your nose because you can’t make a scene here. You two almost got kicked out of a class two days ago, and that was humiliating enough. So, you think that ignoring him is the best thing you can do.

“Wow, so you have a bit of self-control and don’t talk back. Never thought I’d see that day,” he replies sarcastically to your silence with an amused grin that curls his lips.

You hold back a scream and huff loudly, “I truly need you to get fucked right now.”

“Nevermind,” he jokes, pulling a tight forced smile and you close the book again, now too annoyed to even focus on the words on the paper. “I came here in peace, by the way.”

“Yeah, your peace is war in my country,” you reply bitterly, trying to shift away but those damn chairs make the loudest sounds at the smallest movements.

“That’s because you’re full of prejudices.”

You inhale deeply, rubbing your temple to soothe the headache you know is about to arrive. “Haechan, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”

He smiles, happy you are finally willing to listen, before he clears his throat. “Okay so, I have to say that some of this is funny. I mean, only the debates and these random talks, but I’m not the biggest fan of all the other stuff we’re doing, so why don’t we bring it back?”

“Bring it back? As in?” You question, raising a brow in confusion.

“I liked it better when we would just compete without tearing ourselves down. If you cancel, ruin, or save one of my projects with the word boobs in it before sending it to the professor another time, I will go insane.”

You hold back a chuckle. You have to admit it was your lowest move, but it was quite funny when Professor Choi had a whole talk in class about being careful before sending out finished projects and exposed him in front of the class.

“No, it wasn’t funny,” he mutters sternly, watching you fight with all the muscles of your face to don’t break into a laugh.

“No, sorry, it was,” you defend, voice trembling, threatening a chuckle to come out. “Like Iloveboobsdemo1 is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. That could be the title of our song.”

“If you want to get expelled from all the academies in the world that would be a perfect idea,” he says, trying to be serious because seriously it wasn’t funny, but when you stare into each other’s eyes for too long none of you two can hold back the laughter anymore. “Okay, fine. It was funny, but I don’t want that to happen again.”

“So? Do you give up?” You taunt, tilting your head after placing it on your palms.

“I’m not giving up, we are changing strategies of our combat.”

“Oh, okay. You will lose anyway in the end, so if this can be more beneficial for me in the meantime, it’s fine.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples, and you chuckle. “Don’t laugh,” he whispers distraught. “I… could you sometimes at least pretend to give me some kind of chance of winning with you and not feeling like you’ll always have the last laugh?”

“I just replied.”

“No, a reply would’ve been ‘Yes, Haechan, don’t worry, we can change it.��

“Too wordy,” you comment, waving him off with a movement of hand.

“You said like ten words more,” he replies, voice breaking in his throat in a whine, but you decide to act as if you don’t notice.

“It still flowed better. See, that’s why the lyrics are in my hands. You’re really not good with words.”

“You keep doing that,” he groans, slamming a hand on the table, attracting some curious eyes on you before you glare them away. “But it’s fine, okay, so… no more dirty games? No more sabotaging?”

“Yes, no more. Well, not like this, but we can still play a bit, right?” You ask, retracting your hand right when you’re about to hold his to seal the deal.

“Yes, but nothing weird, or you know what I mean.”

You hum, reaching out again and shaking his hand. “It’s a deal, then?”

“It’s a deal.”

The deal somehow turns into Haechan always being next to you. He’s like a shadow, sitting next to you in class, studying with you in the library, and so on. You don’t mind him when he minds his business, but he rarely does. Especially during lessons when you need to focus on what the professors are saying.

You roll your eyes when Haechan sneaks a paper next to your notebook and you read ‘how would a dog wear pants’ with two badly drawn different options on it.

“Does it look like the right moment?” You whisper under your breath, side-eyeing him, and trying to keep your focus on the lesson. You see him nod and decide to mark the second option, thinking that he’d be happy with it, but he has the urge to hear a whole dissertation on something that will never happen, right now.

“Why?” He asks as if you’re not in the middle of a lecture.

“Not now.”

“But this lesson is boring,” he whines, poking your side with his elbow.

You huff, covering it with a cough when you realize it is too loud, and then take a sip from your bottle of water.

“You didn’t answer,” Haechan insists, this time poking your arm with the cap of the pencil.

“I picked one,” you mutter, pointing at the paper with your head.

“Elaborate and change my mind.”

“You think it’s the first one?” You say in disbelief, the utter shock causing the tone of your voice to be louder than you expected.

“Any problems there?” The Professor asks, and you feel your blood freeze.

“Mh, no, nothing, my pen has no more ink, I was asking for another one,” you lie, thanking God you two are sitting far in the back of the class and the Professor can’t hear and can’t see that your pen isn’t dead at all. So, with a suspicious nod, the middle-aged man goes on with the lecture while Haechan giggles beside you.

You glare at him, and he shrugs raising his hands. “If you kept quiet, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you let me concentrate on the lesson instead of asking dumb questions, it wouldn’t have happened,” you retort, and he laughs under his breath again, but doesn’t ask more questions. He still ruins your notes with ugly flowers and other drabbles and you let him be because at least he’s being silent and paying attention.

“So, you really are giving up,” you say when the bell rings and the class starts emptying.

“What makes you think that?” He asks, putting his things in his bag, just like you.

“You didn’t write anything down.”

Haechan shrugs. “Why would I? I have your notes.”

“No, you don’t,” you say but before you can realize he rips the notebook from your hands and snaps a picture of the two pages you wrote. “Hey! That’s not fair. That’s my work.”

“Your amazing summarizing skills and my artistic skills. I don’t gift beautiful sunflowers to just anybody.”

“Beautiful sunflowers?” You snicker, starting to walk down the stairs, pushing the notebook into your bag as Haechan follows at your side. “If Renjun saw them he would have a heart attack.”

“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”

“Keep Picasso out of your mouth,” you say threateningly.

“Still, aren’t you happy you will think of me while studying?” He bats his lashes, and you hold back an entertained grin.

“Can’t wait to go through the absolute most painful ulcers every time I glance down on those things.”

He gasps offended, bringing a hand on his chest. “See, this is what happens when you spend all your days on socials and your brain doesn’t know how to appreciate real art anymore.”

“You are so annoying, and distracting. Next time if you sit next to me, I’ll push you off the chair,” you warn, and only when a colder blow of wind hits you, you realize you’re walking back to your places together.

“Right!” He says and you think it’s the good time he leaves you alone, but no, he’s not done. “You didn’t explain why the dog would wear it only on its hind legs.”

“Is it really that serious? Why do you want to know so badly?”

“It’s funny. I’m sick and tired of hearing you only discuss music, sociology, and the media and other stuff.”

You sigh. But you still have a bit to walk, so you might as well have to deal with him and his hypothesis about dogs. “Because pants have to cover your lower body, so legs, and ass and everything else. If you wear them like the first option, half of the ass is out. And also, the back limbs correspond to our legs, we’re divided in half horizontally, not vertically.”

He doesn’t reply right away, processing your answer. And you think you broke him.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “Zootopia, animals wear clothes like the second picture.”

“Really? You had a whole statement that made perfect sense and then you added a cartoon to your thesis?”

“But it still makes sense,” you argue back. “And, most importantly, I made you agree with me,” you wink before stopping when you reach your complex.

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” he gives up before looking behind you. “You live here?”

You nod, searching for the keys in the tote bag, and you think it’s time to stop pretending that’s Mary Poppins’ bag and throw away some useless stuff.

“I thought there were only rooms here,” he states, looking at the big complex a few meters away from the university.

“There are common dormitories, and then there are some one-room flats. I got one with a scholarship when I graduated. It’s less expensive than an apartment and I get a small place all to myself.”

“Oh,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he thought you had roommates. “So, you’re alone, alone?”

“No, you can’t come in,” you say.

“I didn’t ask that,” he frowns, offended you would even imply that. “I thought you… well, oh, never mind.”

“Yes, I’m alone, so I can do whatever the hell I want. If I want to cook, I cook. If I want to stay up all night to study, I do that. If I want to dry the clothes in the middle of the living room, that is also the bedroom and the kitchen, I do that.”

“Is it really that small?”

“It’s decent, I guess. It’s spacious enough to live in it comfortably but not big to the point I have to waste days cleaning it.”

“Maybe we could study there, no loud roommates screaming in the living room.”

“I like the mess of your place, and I’ll be there Friday.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Come on, I hate the library. Can’t we for once study at your place?”

“I never invited you to my studying sessions,” you groan.

“But you love it.”

“No.”

“Yes, you have an orgasm every time you know something better than me.”

“Please, shut up,” you wave him off, starting to walk away.

“I don’t care, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he screams when you’re too far, clearly running away from him.

“And I’ll be at the library!”

You never go to the library, to be honest, you were just unlucky enough that the washing machine thought it was the right moment to leak all over the floor and Haechan found you at home with your coat on the couch, the tote bag next to the door and your jeans half soaked as you tried to fix the mess on the pavement.

From that moment, your meet-ups become more and more periodic, whether it’s at your place, his or at the library. You hate to admit it, but the competition drives you forward, and you love seeing his face every time you defeat him somehow.

“Are you busy this Saturday?” He asks while he strums with the guitar to come up with a chord progression for your song.

“Yeah, why?” You reply, poking the cap of the pen to your cheeks, drifting your eyes on him.

“Want to go out with me?”

“What? Saturday is my day to study and do my things like I want to,” you say. It was the only day, along with Sunday, you had to fix all your notes without being wrecked from the lessons of the day, or listen to lessons while cleaning the house, and so on. You tried to squeeze everything there so Sunday could be your free day and you could dedicate it to your hobbies and to write for the magazine you worked for, nothing too serious, just some money to add to the survival costs that your parents would send you, and the monthly entrance you had when you would get called to help a dance studio downtown.

“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”

You huff, slumping back on the chair. “No, we’re not. I’m busy.”

“You can take one afternoon for me,” he replies, placing the instrument next to him. ��Come on, it will be fun.”

“Where would you even take me?”

Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”

When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.

You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.

When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.

“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”

“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”

Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”

“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”

“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”

“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”

“You have a car?”

“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.

You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”

“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.

Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”

“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.

“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.

You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.

“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.

“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.

“Wanted to take the metro?”

You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”

“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”

You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”

“You have a car?”

“No, I have a driving playlist.”

“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”

“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.

Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”

“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’

“Oh God,” he whispers.

“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.

“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”

You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.

“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.

“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.

You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”

“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”

“Once,” you reply immediately.

“Twice, with the kiss…”

“You did that to shut me up.”

“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”

You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.

“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”

“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”

“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”

“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”

He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”

“And attracted to honey.”

“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”

“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”

You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”

“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”

“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”

The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.

“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.

“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”

“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”

“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”

“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.

“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”

“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”

You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”

“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”

“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”

Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”

“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.

“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.

You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.

“But it was still better than this, I guess?”

You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”

He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”

You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”

His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”

“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”

Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”

“I have some notes to edit and —”

“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”

You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”

It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.

“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.

“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.

“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.

“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.

“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”

“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture.

Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.

“Haechan, what are y—”

“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”

You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.

“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”

“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”

“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.

He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”

Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”

“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.

You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.

“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”

He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”

“What if they lock us inside?”

“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”

You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.

“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”

“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.

“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.

You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”

His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”

“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”

“Yeah, until you forget everything.”

You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.

“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”

You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.

“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.

Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”

You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.

His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”

You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.

“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”

“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.

“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”

“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.

“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.

“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”

You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”

“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”

You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.

He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”

“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”

“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.

“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”

“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”

Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.

“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”

“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.

His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”

“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.

“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.

You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”

You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.

“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”

“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”

“Stop mocking me!”

“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”

You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.

“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.

“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.

He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.

When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.

“Eager, honey?”

“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.

“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.

You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.

One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.

Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.

“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.

“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”

“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.

“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”

You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.

“Yeah? And who’s that?”

“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.

“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”

You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.

“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”

“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.

Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”

“You’re not the professor so…”

“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”

You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”

Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.

“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”

You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.

Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”

“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”

When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.

“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”

You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.

“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”

“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.

“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”

“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”

Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”

You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.

“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”

“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.

“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”

You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.

“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.

“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”

Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.

“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”

“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.

“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”

You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.

“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”

“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.

Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”

“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.

“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.

“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”

“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face. And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.

“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”

You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.

You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.

“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.

“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.

“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.

“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.

“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”

You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”

Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”

“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.

“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”

You chuckle, deciding to believe him.

“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.

“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”

He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”

“They locked us in!”

He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”

“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.

“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”

“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.

“No,” you say resolutely.

“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.

“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.

Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.

And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.

When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.

You can’t believe you followed him blindly.

Your hands are still intertwined.

With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.

There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.

Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.

Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.

He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.

You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.

But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.

“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.

“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”

“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.

What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.

“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.

“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.

You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”

“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.

“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.

“Are you hinting at something?”

“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”

“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”

“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”

“Do you?” He winks.

“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.

“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”

“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.

He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.

But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.

“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.

“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”

You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.

“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”

Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.

“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.

“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”

“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.

“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”

“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”

“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.

He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.

You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.

His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.

“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”

“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.

Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.

“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.

I played with your heart.

And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.

“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”

“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.

“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.

“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”

“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”

He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”

“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”

“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.

“That’s a crazy choice.”

“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.

“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.

One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.

“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.

“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.

Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”

You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”

“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”

“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.

“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.

“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”

“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.

“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”

Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.

“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”

Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”

You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”

“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”

You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”

He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.

“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”

He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.

You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.

You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.

“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”

You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.

You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.

The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.

“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”

“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”

“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.

“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.

“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.

“Yeah but —”

“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”

“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.

Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.

And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.

Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.

“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.

The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.

“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”

You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.

Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”

Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.

He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”

Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.

“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.

“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.

It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.

“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.

When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”

You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”

When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.

“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”

You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.

You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.

“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”

You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.

There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.

“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”

Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.

“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.

You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.

“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”

You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”

“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.

“Yeah, just coffee.”

He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.

A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”

“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”

“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.

“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”

“Who’s fucking?”

“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.

“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.

“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.

Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”

“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.

“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”

“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.

“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.

“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.

“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”

“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”

“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.

You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”

When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”

You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.

“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”

“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”

“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”

you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

@jaeymark, @hqech, @xntlax, @milkyway-vxm, @fullsunahceah,

@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun @shxnz

@haecastor, @hyucksaint, @sk8ermark, @midnightrained

@maiteeeeesstuff, @smwhrinthehaze, @yoursyuno

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan fluff #lee haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan scenarios

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kuidore · 1 month ago

Note

hi, could you do some random romance HCs with Rumi & Jinu (i think thats how you spell his name)?

i’m so late on this bc i’ve been prioritizing other ships but yes it’s time

RuJinu Headcanons!! ☆ Rumi x Jinu ☆ KPOP Demon Hunters

☆ Jinu is the type of weirdo to sleep with a top sheet. it’s honestly just because that’s what came in the set he bought and he just assumed every human used it. despite this he never makes his bed ever

☆ Rumi always does and she literally has to teach him how to do it because she’ll be damned if she lets him leave her bed all wrinkly on days she has to leave the penthouse first

☆ it took like three days for them to start sleeping in the same bed, the whole sacrificing his soul thing did soften the betrayal a lot

☆ he still had to spend those three days grovelling like a beggar for Rumi to forgive him, practically wailing about how he messed up so so so badly and would never ever let himself be so selfish again, how he’d spend eternity making it up to her

☆ she takes pity on him. cause honestly it’s getting a little bit pathetic and he does clearly feel real fuckin bad about it.

☆ and also. the soul thing. she honestly was ready to forgive him after that but Mira smacked a little sense into her

☆ “DUDE. Make him work for it at least a *little*, because if he can do that soul thing again he’s gonna think it’s a get out of jail free card!”

☆ Rumi highly doubts he can do the soul thing again, neither of them are even fully sure how he managed to show back up after having done it in the first place, but she does admit that Mira was right and she does at least deserve an apology that’s not happening while he’s actively dying

☆ Rumi sleep talks. a lot.

☆ usually it’s just incomprehensible nonsense, but Jinu will stay awake to listen to it just because he thinks it’s cute

☆ (he’s hoping she’ll say his name or something)

☆ When she finally does it sounds like she’s angry at him in her dream and he pouts about it all night

☆ she was dreaming about them playing mario kart. he beat her. that’s why she was ‘mad’ at dream Jinu.

☆ She ends up telling him this, after having to pester him for actual hours about why he seemed so pouty

☆ he was trying to hide it but. he’s not good at it. Bitch is an open book, especially to Rumi

☆ he’s double embarrassed. one because he got caught watching her sleep (she didn’t care, she kinda already knew he did that because on multiple occasions she literally wakes up to him staring at her and ignoring the book he’s supposedly reading) and two because he assumed it was some sort of serious dream about maybe his betrayal or something and got all self-hatey about it

☆ Rumi has to have a genuine talk with him about just pouting and keeping his emotions to himself because like. dude. that’s at least a little bit of what got us here in the first place.

☆ and also he’s her boyfriend and she wants to be there for him obviously

☆ emotional vulnerability ain’t my man’s strong suit but Jinu is trying. for Rumi. and he’s very very slowly getting better

☆ That woman has the patience of a saint, and it also sort of helps that she’s currently also trying to work through her own self-demon-hatred, so she can’t really fault him for taking such a long time when he’s been struggling with this shit for like. 400 years.

☆ Demons don’t technically need sleep, and Jinu in particular does not like sleeping

☆ it’s a latent guilt thing from the ‘sleeping in silk sheets in the palace every night’ – after a few months with Rumi, he finds it a lot easier to lay in bed without thinking of his own sins

☆ eventually he actually starts sleeping when she does, sometimes. But usually he prefers to read or sometimes clean but mostly watch Rumi sleep.

☆ Edward Cullen ass bitch

☆ Sitting and doing nothing except looking at his girlfriend for six to eight hours is still a thousand times more entertaining than the demon realm he spent four centuries in, so he doesn’t exactly get bored or tired while she’s knocked out

☆ Rumi has like. a sixth sense for when Jinu is about to start Spiralling™ about something, and she will literally use those kindergarten breathing techniques to calm him down because it’s the only thing that works

☆ “okay, pretend you’re blowing out birthday candles”

☆ (she has to explain what birthday candles are, but that’s exactly why she uses the kindergarten metaphor ones; not only do they calm Jinu down, but having to sit there and listen to her explain them also slows down his mind and makes him think about something other than his own guilt or hatred or whatever it is this time)

☆ For the first little while in their relationship, Jinu does the same thing we see him doing in the second half of the movie as he actively hides his demon features from Rumi

☆ all the other Saja boys have varying degrees of ‘caring about human-ness’ when they aren’t in public, Jinu is the most extreme. He will never show his demonic features if he can avoid it, and at times when he can’t (ex. excessive anger or emotion), if he’s with Rumi he still manages to force it back

☆ If for some reason he can’t do it, he will leave the room until he can. This happening is what finally makes Rumi realize what he’s been doing and why

☆ He’s ashamed of being a demon, while Rumi is tired of hiding and desperate to let go of her shame. It was honestly just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and when it does it’s the thing that causes their first big fight and jumpstarts Jinu’s emotional maturity journey

☆ Rumi breaks down and says something along the lines of ‘if you’re so ashamed of that part of you, then how can you possibly love me?’ and it clicks

☆ he realizes the difference between ‘not caring’ and ‘accepting’, and realizes he’s been doing the former when it comes to Rumi’s demon half.

☆ intentionally or not, he realizes that hiding and being ashamed is also telling Rumi that she has - and always had - something to hide

☆ The boy has a bad habit of being very ‘me me me’ with his emotions, not that he doesn’t care how they effect others but he quite literally doesn’t fathom that they do, after having been a demon for so long where his emotions and shame are all his own, where he didn’t have the social connections where people would care if he was hurting or care about how he felt about things at all

☆ his fight with Rumi helps him relearn the fact that his insecurities can damage other people, and he very slowly starts dialing back the self-hatred

☆ he’s not mentally ready for therapy but boy does he need it

☆ he’s also skeptical about how much a human therapist could help with ‘400 years of internalized shame about betraying your family and simultaneous indebtedness to a demon king’

☆ the compromise is little self-help books that he doesn’t want to admit are actually helping because their titles are so fucking stupid

☆ He also makes an active effort to be less weird about his demon markings and eyes, and be more vocal about how much he loves the parts of Rumi that show exactly what and who she is – demon-ness and all

☆ he becomes a little bit obsessed with kissing along her marks/‘scars’, to the point where it’s almost embarassing

☆ When Rumi gets pissed off, she does start to go through a bit of a transformation herself, similar to what we saw in the movie

☆ When this happens, Jinu is always the one to calm her down. He takes her hands and kisses her fingers and her claws, he lightly traces along the marks on her arms with his fingers, until the repetition and the familiarity helps to her calm down

☆ Talking to Rumi when she’s so pissed off she’s started transforming is almost useless, especially early on when she’s still struggling with so much hatred for herself. it just exacerbates her anger and sends her into a spiral, so sitting in silence together and letting Rumi calm down and trying to ground her with physical sensations or stimuli is Jinu’s solution, and it works really really well

☆ It eventually gets to a point where Rumi can control it similar to how the boys can, but the scars from her markings never go away even if she’s not actively making them appear. she can’t make them disappear either, they’re just there now and she has a bit of a hard time accepting it at first.

☆ Jinu’s habit of tracing along them is one of the first steps to her acceptance of the scars as a part of her, an important one. She was never necessarily ‘ashamed’ of them, but moreso were worried that other people would think they were ugly or that they made her look weird

☆ She eventually starts smiling instead of frowning when she brings a hand up to touch the ones on her face when she’s looking in the mirror

☆ Rumi doesn’t blush easily, the only real tell that she’s flustered is the way the tips of her ears go red and she starts stumbling over her words

☆ Jinu pouts about this until he realizes he can hear her heartbeat speeding up when she gets nervous or flustered, and at that point he realizes Rumi actually gets flustered a lot more than it seems like she does

☆ Girl has a poker face of steel but inside she’s screaming throwing up punching holes in the walls desperately clawing against the urge to climb Jinu like a tree whenever he puts his hand on the bottom of her back to lead her through a crowd or something

☆ They’re not a major PDA couple, especially compared to the absolute fucking menaces that are Zoeystery and MiRomAbby, but there’s barely a moment in public where those two aren’t holding hands

☆ If a moment does in fact occur, Jinu will do everything in his power to at least keep a hand somewhere on Rumi, especially if they’re in a crowd because he’s terrified of losing her in it

☆ she could handle herself perfectly fine. neither of them have any issues with crowds, she’s not gonna panic if she’s alone. but he will, not about him being alone but about her. he’s just. weirdly worried about losing her in crowds of people?

☆ there isn’t a deep-seated trauma reason or anything he’s just a protective little weirdo who doesn’t like it when he can’t see his girl for more than five seconds at a time

☆ it’s like he thinks she’s gonna get trampled or something

☆ Jinu went back to the bridge for like a full week looking for that bracelet lady so he could get a matching one for Rumi

☆ She makes a comment that ‘maybe he’s not so hopeless after all’ and pats him on the shoulder, and he almost cries

☆ (he does. he does cry. he just waits until she’s too far away to notice)

#kpop demon hunters spoilers #kpop demon hunters #kpdh headcanons #rujinu #rumi x jinu #rumi kpdh #jinu kpdh #kpdh spoilers

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hereforuconnwbb · 5 months ago

Text

Unexpected Halt - CHAPTER SEVEN

paige x azzi (pazzi)

uconnwbb!paige stanfordwbb!azzi

word count: 10.2k

warning: language, drugs, alcohol

hey yall sorry i kept you guys waiting but here chapter 7 !!! i honestly dk if i like this and if this chapter even makes sense but i js wanted to get something out cs like this is my downfall 🥲 sooooooo um hopefully its ok and hopefully u guys enjoy 😽

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

A month had passed, and somehow, things between Paige and Azzi had only gotten stronger.

What started as late-night FaceTime calls and Fortnite sessions had turned into something even more effortless. They talked every day, whether through texts, calls, or the occasional voice memo when one of them was too busy to type. They had settled into a rhythm—one that felt natural, easy, and theirs.

Paige had always known she cared about Azzi, but now? It felt deeper. Stronger. More real. It wasn’t just playful teasing and stolen moments anymore—it was falling asleep on the phone together, waking up to good morning texts, and knowing that, no matter what, they were each other’s person.

Azzi felt it too. She had never been the type to open up easily, but with Paige, she didn’t have to try. Being with her felt like second nature, like something she had always been meant to do. And even though they were still apart more often than not, it never felt like distance. Because no matter where they were, they chose each other.

—------------

Paige’s phone buzzed next to her as she sat at her desk, trying to focus on some homework. She glanced at the screen, but the number was unfamiliar. The message that popped up was vague, but something about it made her stomach twist.

Unknown Number: Hey, it’s been a while.

Paige frowned, unsure who it could be. She quickly typed back,

Paige: Who is this?

The reply came almost instantly.

Unknown Number: You really don’t recognize me? You used to call me your best friend.

Paige hesitated, her mind racing as she tried to place the voice behind the message. It didn’t feel like a random number, but she couldn’t quite place it.

Paige: I’m not sure. Why are you texting me?

The person didn’t hesitate to respond, their tone increasingly familiar.

Unknown Number: You always said we’d talk again someday. I never wanted things to end like they did.

Paige’s heart skipped a beat, recognition slowly dawning on her. Her breath caught as a name bubbled to the surface of her mind.

Paige: Wait… Lexi?

There was a long pause before the response came, almost as if Lexi had been waiting for Paige to remember.

Lexi: You remember me. I’ve missed you so much. I tried to move on, but it’s been hard.

Paige’s pulse quickened, irritation bubbling up. She hadn’t heard from Lexi in months, not since their messy breakup. Lexi had never been good at letting go, and Paige had known that from the start.

Paige: Lexi, this is not okay. Why are you texting me after all this time? I’ve moved on. You need to stop.

Lexi: Move on? Who are you with now, Paige? You’re still not with that girl, right?

Paige froze. She didn’t want to give Lexi any details, but something about the way she asked made her feel uneasy. She typed back quickly.

Paige: That’s none of your business.

Lexi: Oh, I get it. You think I don’t know what’s going on in your life. You’ve always had a way of pushing people away when they get too close.

Paige’s grip on her phone tightened. The old frustration she felt with Lexi resurfaced, the constant need to control and manipulate every situation.

Paige: Stop trying to make me feel guilty. I’m in a relationship, and I’m happy. Can’t you just leave me alone?

There was a pause, the silence stretching between them. Paige could feel the weight of Lexi’s unspoken response, almost like a threat hanging in the air.

Lexi: You think you’re happy, but you’ll always come back to me, Paige. I know you better than anyone. You can’t just forget me like that.

Paige’s blood ran cold, and she couldn’t stop herself from sending a harsh reply.

Paige: You need to stop. I don’t want you in my life anymore, Lexi.

Before she could put her phone down, a new message popped up, this time more insistent and almost demanding.

Lexi: You’re mine, Paige. You always will be. Don’t pretend like you’re in control. I’m coming for you again.

Paige stared at the words, her heart pounding. Something about the way Lexi spoke sent a chill down her spine. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the feeling of being trapped by her past lingered.

She didn’t respond. The messages kept coming, each one more desperate, more possessive. But Paige knew she had to stop before it escalated further.

With a sigh, she tossed her phone onto her bed, standing up and pacing around her room for a few moments. The anger bubbling in her chest was still fresh, but something else gnawed at her too—a sense of dread. What if Lexi didn’t let this go? What if she started trying to come between her and Azzi?

The door to her room creaked open, and KK and Ice popped their heads inside, both of them giving her knowing smirks. “You good, P?” Ice asked, her voice teasing but with a hint of concern behind it.

Paige sighed again, running a hand through her hair. “No,” she muttered, walking over to her desk and sitting down. She could feel Ice and KK’s eyes on her, already reading the situation. Ice crossed her arms, while KK leaned against the doorframe, both of them waiting for Paige to speak.

“I got a message from Lexi,” Paige said quietly, her voice almost reluctant. She wasn’t used to talking about her past with them, but it was clear they weren’t going to leave until she opened up. “She… she’s been trying to reach me again.” She could feel the frustration rising in her chest as she spoke. “I don’t know how she even got my number. It’s like she’s been waiting for me to fall back into her trap.”

Ice raised an eyebrow. “Lexi? That’s the ex who almost fucked everything up, right?”

Paige nodded, her jaw tightening. “Yeah. She’s the one who—” She stopped herself, realizing she didn’t want to dredge up everything right now. The memories of the toxic relationship, the fights, the manipulation—it felt like opening a door she was trying to keep locked.

KK stepped into the room fully, a little more serious now. “Okay, but what’s going on with her? I thought she was out of your life for good. You’ve been pretty happy lately, with Azzi, right?” Her voice softened as she said Azzi’s name, her tone light but also understanding—especially now that she and Ice had figured out Paige and Azzi had been dating for a while now.

Paige took a deep breath, swallowing her frustration before it bubbled over. “She says she misses me. She wants to get back together, but it’s like… she doesn’t get it. I don’t feel that way anymore. I want to be with Azzi. But Lexi… she’s not just gonna let go. She’s already starting shit, making me feel like I owe her something.”

“You don’t owe her anything,” Ice interjected sharply, her eyes hardening. “I swear, Paige, if this bitch tries to pull you back in, we’ve got your back. You know that, right?”

Paige nodded, grateful for her friends’ support. “I know. But the thing is, Lexi doesn’t care about boundaries. She’s been texting me these creepy, possessive things. Telling me she knows I’m with someone else now, but she’s not letting me go. It’s like she thinks I’m hers.”

KK’s face softened with sympathy. “She’s unhinged,” she said bluntly. “And I know that’s scary, but you don’t have to deal with this alone. You’ve got us, and you’ve got Azzi. Lexi’s not gonna break you down.”

Paige chuckled bitterly, rubbing the back of her neck. “I know. But the way she’s acting… I’m worried she might try something. She’s the type to do something crazy.”

Ice’s eyes narrowed in understanding. “We’ll keep an eye on her for you,” she said. “But Paige, don’t forget—you are the one in control of this. Lexi might have messed with your head before, but you’re not the same person now. You’ve got your life with Azzi. You’ve got your own support system. You don’t have to let her worm her way back in.”

“Yeah,” Paige murmured, her chest tightening with a mix of relief and unease. “I just don’t want to cause problems for Azzi. She’s already been through enough with me, and the last thing I want is for her to get caught up in this mess.”

“I get that,” KK said, her voice softer now. “But Azzi’s not stupid. She’ll have your back. Just make sure you’re not pushing her away when you’re dealing with this. Communication is key.”

Paige nodded, the weight on her chest lessening slightly at her friends’ words. “I know. I just—she doesn’t deserve any of this. Lexi doesn’t get to just show up and ruin everything.”

A tense silence filled the room as Paige tried to steady herself, but Ice and KK didn’t push her further. They stood by her, their expressions supportive, not prying but offering comfort in the way they knew best.

“I’ll keep an eye on things,” Paige continued, her tone firm as she stood up, her mind made up. “If she crosses the line, I’ll shut it down. But I’m not letting her tear down what I have with Azzi. Not this time.”

Ice gave her a single, approving nod. “Good. You’ve got this, Paige. And if Lexi shows up anywhere near you again, you let us know. We’ll take care of it.”

Paige felt a wave of gratitude. No matter what Lexi tried, she wasn’t in this alone anymore. She had Azzi, Ice, and KK. And together, they would make sure that Lexi didn’t stand a chance.

Paige walked over to her phone, scrolling through the messages from Lexi one more time before deleting the entire thread. No more. It was time to shut that door for good.

But in the back of her mind, the unsettling feeling remained. The storm hadn’t passed yet, and Paige knew that things were about to get even more complicated.

—------------

The next day, after a restless night filled with too many thoughts, Paige finally found the time to call Azzi. Her fingers hovered over the phone screen, hesitating for just a second as she tried to decide how to bring it up. She didn’t want to drag Azzi into this mess, but she knew she couldn’t keep it from her. Not when things with Lexi were escalating.

Azzi picked up on the second ring, her voice soft but warm. “Hey, baby,” she greeted, a smile practically audible in her tone. “How’s it going?”

Paige took a deep breath, settling back into her bed as she tried to clear her head. “Hey, Azzi. I need to talk to you about something. Something’s been going on, and I don’t want to keep it from you.”

Azzi’s tone shifted immediately, the concern evident in her voice. “What’s wrong, Paige? You sound serious.”

Paige bit her lip, feeling the weight of the conversation already pressing down on her. “It’s about my ex… Lexi.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Your ex?” Azzi’s voice was cautious, unsure. “You don’t really talk about her much, so I’m guessing she’s not someone you want to talk about.”

Paige nodded, though Azzi couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I haven’t talked to her in a while, but recently, she started reaching out again.” She paused, trying to find the right words to explain it all without making it sound like she was trying to pull away from Azzi. “She’s… been trying to get back into my life. But it’s not just normal texting. It’s… well, it’s obsessive. She’s sending me messages, saying she misses me, saying she wants to get back together.”

Azzi’s voice softened, a note of sympathy slipping through. “That sounds… not great. But I’m guessing it’s more than just texts?”

Paige’s chest tightened as she replied, “Yeah, it is. She’s been sending weird stuff. Like, she knows I’m with someone else now, and she’s making it clear she doesn’t care. It’s like she’s trying to worm her way back in, even though I’ve made it clear I don’t want that.”

Azzi’s heart thudded in her chest. Her instinct was to protect Paige, to wrap her up in the safety of her own arms. She could hear the tension in Paige’s voice, and it made her ache for her. “I’m sorry, Paige. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have someone like that in your life, especially when you’re trying to move forward. But you’ve got me, okay? I’m here for you.”

Paige smiled faintly at the reassurance, but the nagging feeling at the back of her mind didn’t ease. “It’s just… she’s not letting go. And it’s like she doesn’t get the boundaries. I’ve blocked her number, but she somehow keeps getting through. And now she’s just… I don’t know. I’m worried she might do something stupid. She’s the type to make a scene if she doesn’t get what she wants.”

Azzi’s heart clenched at the thought of Paige being stalked or harassed. She wanted to be there for her, but this situation felt out of her control. “Have you told her to stop? Have you told her to stay away?”

“I have,” Paige said, her voice strained. “But it’s like she doesn’t care. She’s not listening. And now… now I’m worried she’s going to try something while I’m out or… or when I’m with you. I won’t let her ruin this, but I’m not sure what to do next.”

Azzi felt a rush of emotion—protectiveness, worry, even anger—and she knew in that moment that she couldn’t let Paige deal with this on her own. “You’re not alone in this, Paige. You’ve already been through enough with her. But I want you to promise me something.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

“Promise me that if she tries anything again, we’ll try to figure it out together. I don’t care who she is or what she wants. I’m not going to let anyone threaten us or what we’ve got.”

Paige’s chest swelled with gratitude at Azzi’s words. “I promise. And I’ll keep you in the loop, always. I don’t want to keep things from you. But I just don’t want to bring this stress into what we have. You mean so much to me, Azzi. I just want us to stay happy.”

Azzi’s heart softened at that, her voice lowering to a tender whisper. “I know, babe. And we will be happy. No one’s going to mess that up. Not Lexi, not anyone.”

Paige could feel the warmth in Azzi’s words, and for the first time that day, she felt like maybe everything would be okay. They’d face whatever came next together, no matter how complicated it got. Paige didn’t want to burden Azzi with the weight of her past, but it felt good to know that Azzi was standing by her side.

“You’re right,” Paige said, her voice steadier now. “I don’t want to let this ruin what we have. Thank you, Azzi. For everything.”

“Always, P,” Azzi replied softly. “Always.”

The call continued with a few more quiet words, both of them reassured, though the unease still lingered. Paige knew the situation with Lexi wasn’t over yet. But with Azzi by her side, it didn’t feel quite as impossible to handle. She just had to make sure that nothing—and no one—would threaten what they had together.

And that meant keeping her ex at bay. No matter the cost.

—------------

Paige had just set her phone down after hanging up with Azzi, the warmth of their conversation still lingering in her chest, when the screen lit up with a new notification. A text. Lexi.

She hesitated for a moment, staring at the name on the screen. Her thumb hovered over the message for several seconds before she finally unlocked her phone and read the text.

Lexi: “I’m still waiting for you to talk to me, Paige. I know you’re mad, but you know this isn’t over. I’m not giving up on us.”

The words hit Paige like a punch in the gut, but her fingers didn’t shake. It was like a familiar ache now, the kind she’d grown numb to over the years.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of irritation and concern flooding her system. It had only been a few hours since she last dealt with Lexi’s relentless messages, and now here she was again, pushing all her buttons.

Paige didn’t want to respond, didn’t want to get sucked back into whatever chaos Lexi was creating. But the text lingered in her mind, the old patterns creeping back in.

A second message popped up almost immediately after, this one more forceful, the text bold with desperation.

Lexi: “I know you’re ignoring me, but you can’t hide forever. You need to talk to me. I miss you, and you know it. Don’t push me away, Paige. Please.”

Paige’s jaw tightened as she read it, every word making her more frustrated. Lexi was pushing her again, testing the limits, as if Paige owed her something. She didn’t. Not anymore.

But as she stared at the messages, her fingers itched to respond. She wanted to tell Lexi exactly what she thought of her, but she knew better. Lexi thrived on that chaos, on the drama. Paige had to shut it down.

With a deep breath, Paige typed out a quick, sharp reply.

Paige: “This has to stop, Lexi. Like I said before, I’m with someone else now, and you need to respect that. We’re done.”

She hit send, staring at the screen as if the words would make everything go away. But the phone buzzed again, almost immediately.

Lexi: “You think I care about that? You’re mine, Paige. You always were. And you know that.”

Paige’s stomach churned. She could feel the anger building up, the frustration of dealing with Lexi’s obsession. She knew she shouldn’t engage, knew it only gave Lexi what she wanted, but it was hard not to. She couldn’t just let this go. Not now.

Paige: “I’m telling you for the last time. Leave me alone, Lexi.”

Paige’s fingers trembled as she hit send, the message final. She locked her phone and tossed it onto the bed, running a hand through her hair as her mind raced. She hated dealing with this. It was exhausting.

But then, just as she was about to turn away, the phone buzzed again, and she couldn’t help herself. She picked it up, the familiar dread creeping up her spine.

Lexi: “You’re not going to just walk away from me, Paige. I won’t let you. You’ll regret this.”

Paige stared at the screen, her heart hammering in her chest. The words weren’t a threat, but they felt like one. And for the first time, she felt that old sense of unease creeping back, like maybe Lexi wasn’t finished yet.

Taking a deep breath, Paige shut the phone off and shoved it into the drawer. She was done. For now. But she knew that wouldn’t be the end of it.

No matter what it took.

—------------

Paige sat in her room, still feeling the lingering tension from Lexi’s messages. She had tried to push it out of her mind, but it kept coming back, haunting her like a shadow. She stared at her phone, but the screen remained off, as if it could hold the chaos at bay. But even without checking her messages again, the weight on her chest didn’t lift.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

“Ice? KK?” she called, half-expecting them.

The door creaked open, and Ice leaned in, her eyes scanning Paige’s face as if looking for something. “You good?” she asked, her voice soft but perceptive. “You’ve been kind of off today.”

KK stood behind Ice, her arms crossed, already knowing what was going on. She glanced between them, noticing Paige’s distant expression. “Lexi texted you again, huh?” she said, matter-of-factly.

Paige’s eyes shot to KK’s. She didn’t even need to ask how they knew—she had been avoiding them for the past few hours, and they were always on the lookout for when something was off.

“I’m fine,” Paige said, but even she knew it was a half-lie. She let out a heavy sigh. “It’s just… I don’t know, guys. She won’t leave me alone. It’s driving me crazy.”

Ice and KK exchanged a quick glance before Ice spoke again, her voice sympathetic. “I get it. She’s relentless. But you can’t let her get under your skin like this. She doesn’t deserve your energy.”

“I know,” Paige muttered, rubbing her temples. “I just… I don’t know how to make her stop.” She paused, meeting Ice’s gaze. “It’s like every time I think it’s over, she pulls me back in.”

KK leaned against the doorframe, her expression softening. “It’s not your fault. You’re doing your best to cut ties. You just need to let go.” She crossed her arms, her tone turning teasing as she tried to lighten the mood. “But hey, maybe we should get you out of here, clear your head. You in the mood for a little Ted’s night?”

Paige hesitated for a moment. She really didn’t want to go out, but she knew Ice and KK weren’t going to let her stew in her own thoughts. And honestly, she could use a distraction.

“I mean, I guess I could use a drink,” Paige said, trying to force a smile. “But only if I don’t have to talk about Lexi.”

“You’re not gonna have to talk about anything you don’t want to,” Ice promised, giving Paige a knowing look. “Come on, it’ll be good for you. The team’s going, and I’m sure the usual chaos will help take your mind off things.”

Paige nodded reluctantly. “Alright, fine. I’ll come.”

KK grinned. “That’s the spirit. You need a night to just be around your people and forget the drama for a bit.” She winked at Paige, her usual playful energy filling the space. “And trust me, we’ll make sure Lexi doesn’t cross your mind.”

With that, Paige stood up, following Ice and KK as they headed toward the door.

As they walked down the hall, Paige couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief. The weight of Lexi’s messages was still there, but for the first time in a while, it felt like she was taking a step away from it, even if just for the night. Maybe being at Ted’s with the team would help her forget, even if just for a few hours. She could use a break from everything.

“I’ll text Azzi when we get there,” Paige said, though she didn’t feel entirely comfortable keeping her girlfriend in the dark about what was going on. But she also didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily, especially when there wasn’t much to say yet.

KK looked at Paige with a raised eyebrow. “You sure? I mean, you can tell her if you need to.”

Paige sighed, adjusting her hoodie. “Yeah, I’ll just let her know I’m out with you guys. It’s better than overloading her right now. I’ll figure it out.”

Ice and KK exchanged another glance, but they didn’t press the issue. They could tell Paige just wanted to focus on getting her mind off things. As they made their way toward the door to leave, Ice gave Paige a gentle nudge. “Come on, Paige. Let’s just have fun tonight. No stress.”

“Yeah, no stress,” KK added, a smile on her face. “It’s Ted’s, after all.”

And with that, Paige found herself stepping out of the room, allowing herself to enjoy a brief, fleeting moment of normalcy. The night ahead wasn’t going to solve everything, but maybe, just maybe, it would help her breathe a little easier.

—------------

When Paige and the crew arrived at Ted’s, the usual buzz of noise filled the air—laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of music in the background. It was the perfect place for a night of distraction, and Paige was grateful for it. She pushed the thoughts of Lexi aside for now, focusing on the familiar faces and the chaos that always came with a night at Ted’s. But as they walked in, Paige’s eyes immediately scanned the room.

There, sitting at the bar, was Lexi.

Paige’s stomach dropped, and she had to stop herself from turning around and walking right out the door. Lexi was a force—impossible to ignore, and clearly, she hadn’t gotten the memo that Paige needed space. Lexi’s striking features were just as familiar as they had been the first time Paige laid eyes on her, but now they made Paige’s heart race in a way she didn’t want it to. Her dark hair was styled into loose waves, falling perfectly over her shoulders, and she wore a tight-fitting black dress that hugged her body in all the right places. The bold red lipstick she always favored was perfectly applied, standing out against her brown skin. She looked effortlessly beautiful, but to Paige, it was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong.

Lexi’s gaze lifted from her phone as Paige’s eyes met hers. A slow, almost smirking smile spread across her lips, and Paige felt the weight of it. The realization that Lexi had been watching her, waiting for the right moment to strike, was suffocating. She couldn’t just ignore it.

“Shit,” Paige muttered under her breath, though Ice and KK were too busy talking to hear. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Paige made a beeline for the bar, pretending like she hadn’t just seen her ex. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the tightness in her throat. She hadn’t been prepared to see Lexi here, not after everything. It felt like a punch in the gut, like everything she’d worked to move on from was right in front of her again.

As she reached the bar, she tried to keep her voice steady. “Hey, can I get a drink?” she asked the bartender, trying to keep her focus on something, anything other than Lexi.

Lexi, of course, didn’t waste a second. “Paige,” she said smoothly, her voice a bit too sweet, too familiar. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but she kept her face neutral. She didn’t want to give Lexi the satisfaction of seeing how much she was rattled. “I’m fine,” she replied coolly, leaning against the bar, her eyes scanning the room to avoid any direct contact with Lexi. “I’m just here to hang with some friends.”

Lexi raised an eyebrow, her smirk never faltering. “I see that,” she said, glancing over Paige’s shoulder at Ice and KK, who were at the far end of the bar, joking around and ordering drinks. “Are they really who you need to be with right now, though? You know you could be doing so much better.”

Paige clenched her fists. The audacity of this woman never ceased to amaze her. “I’m good,” she said, her voice flat but firm. “And I’m happy with where I am.”

Lexi’s gaze flickered with something Paige couldn’t quite place—a mixture of irritation and amusement, like she knew she had Paige on edge. “We both know that’s not true,” Lexi purred. “You’re still hung up on me, I can see it in your eyes. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Paige was done with this conversation. “No,” she said sharply, her voice lower than before. “I’m not. I’m over you, Lexi. So whatever game you think you’re playing, I’m not interested. I’m with someone else now, and I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my life.”

Lexi leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Someone else? That’s cute. I don’t think they can handle you the way I did, Paige. You always come back to me. You know it’s true.”

Paige’s heart hammered in her chest, the familiar rush of old feelings trying to creep in, but she squashed them down with everything she had. She wasn’t going to let Lexi win. She wasn’t going to let her get to her this time.

“No,” Paige said firmly, standing up straighter. “I’m done with you, Lexi. You’ve had your chance. I’m happy now, and you’re not going to ruin that.”

For a moment, Lexi just stared at her, her expression unreadable. Then, she leaned back and smiled, her voice dripping with something dangerous. “You’ll be back. I know you will.”

Paige had heard those words too many times before. She wasn’t going to let Lexi’s words dictate her anymore. With a deep breath, Paige turned her back on Lexi and walked toward her friends, forcing her pulse to slow.

Ice and KK were already halfway through their drinks, completely unaware of the tension Paige had just experienced.

“You good?” Ice asked, catching the look on Paige’s face as she sat down.

Paige forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just have a good time tonight, alright?”

KK raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t push the issue. “If you say so.”

And for now, that’s all Paige could do. Keep pretending she was fine, even though Lexi’s presence hung in the air like a storm cloud, waiting for the right moment to break. Paige would have to be ready for whatever came next.

—------------

The tension in the air at Ted’s continued to simmer, but Paige tried to ignore it. She was already in a better mood than she had been when she first walked in—her friends were here, and the loud atmosphere of the bar made it easier to forget for a while. Still, as the night went on, Paige couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that had settled in her chest after the interaction with Lexi. She tried to focus on the conversation she was having with a random acquaintance at the bar, laughing at their jokes, trying to let the noise drown out the thoughts in her head.

However, as she shifted her attention to the person beside her, she didn’t notice Lexi slip closer, waiting for the perfect moment. In the midst of the banter, when Paige’s attention was fully on the stranger beside her, Lexi subtly leaned over and dropped a small white powder into Paige’s drink. Her eyes flickered toward Paige, watching carefully to see if she noticed. Lexi knew that if Paige had been paying attention, she would’ve caught her. But Paige was too distracted.

Once the drink was mixed and the powder dissolved, Lexi stepped back into the crowd, as though nothing had happened. Paige took a sip of her drink, completely unaware of the malicious act unfolding behind the scenes. She continued chatting, the noise of Ted’s creating the perfect cover.

As the minutes passed, Paige’s head started to feel heavier, like the weight of the world was pressing down on her. It started with a slight dizziness, then a deep, overwhelming sense of fatigue. She shook it off, thinking maybe it was just the alcohol or the long day. But soon, it became harder to keep her focus. The room seemed to sway, and she struggled to follow the conversation she was having.

Before she knew it, she felt her stomach churn. Her breath hitched as nausea crept in, and she quickly stood up, clutching her drink with shaky hands. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Paige muttered to Ice and KK, who were still lost in conversation, not noticing how off she had become. They gave her a quick nod, not thinking twice about it.

She stumbled toward the bathroom, hoping to just get a quick breather and let the sickness pass. But before she could even reach the door, she felt a soft hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Lexi’s voice was smooth, and it felt like it came from miles away. Paige’s vision blurred slightly, but she still recognized the familiar voice.

“Yeah… just need to throw up,” Paige mumbled, her voice sounding weaker than she intended. She felt hot, cold, and disoriented all at once. She wanted to push Lexi away, but her body felt like it wasn’t listening to her.

Lexi’s smile was as practiced as ever, and she leaned in closer, her voice low and almost soothing. “I’ll help you,” she said, her hand gently resting on Paige’s back, guiding her toward the bathroom. Paige felt too dizzy to protest and let herself be led.

Inside the bathroom, Paige felt her stomach lurch, and she quickly leaned over the toilet. Her head swam as she emptied her stomach, but all she could focus on was the fact that Lexi was still standing there, far too close. Paige’s mind struggled to keep up, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Lexi said, her voice laced with false sweetness as she rubbed Paige’s back. “Just breathe. You’ll feel better in a minute.”

Paige pushed against the sink, trying to steady herself, but the world around her felt like it was spinning out of control. “I don’t… I don’t feel right,” she muttered, her voice shaking.

Lexi took another step closer, pressing herself against Paige’s side. “I know, sweetie,” she cooed, her hand coming up to gently tuck a strand of Paige’s hair behind her ear. “You’re just a little overwhelmed, that’s all. Just relax. Let me help you.”

Paige wanted to shove her away, but the strength in her limbs felt like it had been drained. She couldn’t think straight. She didn’t know what was happening, only that something wasn’t right.

“Don’t… please,” Paige managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She was still trying to push Lexi off, but her movements were sluggish. “I… I don’t want to…”

“Shhh,” Lexi murmured, a wicked glint in her eyes that Paige couldn’t quite register. She was too out of it to fight, her body betraying her. Lexi smiled, as if savoring the moment. “Who’s the lucky one, Paige?” she asked, her tone sugary sweet as she stroked Paige’s cheek. “Who do you have now?”

Paige, still disoriented, blinked at Lexi, trying to clear her mind. “I—” she started to say, but her thoughts felt like they were slipping through her fingers.

And then it happened.

“Azzi,” she whispered, unable to stop herself. Her relationship with Azzi had been on her mind all night, and in her vulnerable state, the words slipped out.

Lexi’s smile turned into a smirk, her eyes lighting up with satisfaction. She’d gotten what she wanted. She quickly leaned forward, whispering in Paige’s ear, her words dripping with malice, “Azzi, huh? That’s cute. I think I can make this work.”

Paige barely registered the words, but she knew she was on the edge of passing out. Everything felt like it was slipping away, the world around her darkening.

“Give me your phone, Paige,” Lexi coaxed, her voice low. “I’ll message her for you. Let me help you. Just give me your passcode, and I’ll take care of it for you.”

Paige was so disoriented that she didn’t even question it. She fumbled for her phone, handing it over without thinking. “Just… don’t… don’t hurt her,” Paige muttered, her eyelids fluttering.

Lexi took the phone from Paige’s hand, entering the passcode quickly. “Don’t worry, darling,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of everything.”

As Paige’s vision blurred and her consciousness slipped away, she felt the last shred of awareness leaving her. Lexi’s voice faded into the background as the darkness swallowed her whole.

When Paige passed out, Lexi smiled to herself, the plan already forming in her mind. She was going to make sure this wasn’t the last time Paige would come crawling back to her.

Lexi looked down at the phone in her hands, her fingers brushing across the screen with practiced precision. Paige’s phone, now unlocked and in her possession, gave Lexi everything she needed. Her mind worked quickly, the satisfaction of control creeping up her spine as she navigated to the messages between Paige and Azzi.

She knew how much Azzi meant to Paige. She could use that. If she could plant seeds of doubt, if she could make Azzi question things, the crack in their relationship would widen. Lexi smirked as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, the words forming in her mind.

Paige had been too trusting, and now she would pay the price.

She started typing, knowing that Azzi would believe it was Paige on the other end of the conversation. The situation was too perfect—Paige had already been distant, distracted, and now with the drugged haze still clouding her mind, she wouldn’t notice the difference between the texts and the way she usually spoke.

Paige: “Azzi, I’ve been thinking… I don’t know if I can keep doing this. You’re great and everything, but lately, I just feel like I’m not as into this as I was before. You’ve been so busy, and I’m feeling kind of neglected.”

Lexi sat back, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she hit send. She watched the message go through, knowing that Azzi would receive it and react just as she’d anticipated. She wasn’t done yet. She had a lot more to say.

She quickly typed again.

Paige: “I don’t know if this is going to work. I mean, maybe we should just take a break or something. I’ve been talking to Lexi a lot more since I saw her at the bar tonight, and she’s been a lot more… understanding. She gets me in ways that you don’t, and maybe I need that right now.”

Lexi read the words before sending them, savoring the delicious satisfaction of knowing how Azzi would react to them. It was a slow burn, and Azzi would feel every inch of the distance growing between her and Paige. She would question everything. All Lexi had to do was make her doubt Paige’s feelings.

She waited for a moment, watching the little dots appear on the screen as Azzi typed. Then her phone buzzed with a new message.

Azzi: “What the hell? Paige, what do you mean you’re not ‘into this’ anymore? You know this isn’t like you. We’ve been through so much, and now you’re just going to throw it all away?”

Lexi felt a rush of satisfaction. Azzi was already reacting the way she expected—hurt, confused, defensive. But she wasn’t done yet. She needed Azzi to feel even more unsteady.

Paige: “I just… I don’t know. Things have changed. I feel like you don’t really care anymore. Maybe you just got too busy with your own life to notice.”

Lexi paused before sending the next message, reading it over and ensuring it would hit hard.

Paige: “Honestly, I don’t want to keep pretending everything’s okay when I’m feeling like this. Maybe I just need someone who can actually be there for me, someone who actually gets it. Lexi does.”

She sent it. The reaction was immediate.

Azzi: “What the hell are you talking about? You want someone who ‘gets you’? You’ve been with me this whole time, and you’ve never acted like this before. Don’t you dare tell me you’re going to throw everything we have away for someone else.”

Lexi smiled wickedly as she read Azzi’s message. She knew exactly what to say next. She was planting the seeds of doubt deep in Azzi’s mind, and she wasn’t going to stop until the damage was done.

Paige: “I just can’t do this anymore, Azzi. You’re not the same person I fell for. I think you’ve changed, and maybe I’ve changed too.”

Lexi sat back, waiting for Azzi’s response, fully aware of the anger and frustration that was about to flood the messages. It wouldn’t be long before Azzi started questioning everything, her insecurities flaring up.

The phone buzzed again.

Azzi: “You’re seriously going to sit here and tell me that after everything we’ve been through? After everything we’ve built, you’re just going to throw it away over something that doesn’t even make sense?”

Azzi: “You’re acting like we don’t talk about our issues. You’re acting like I’m some kind of stranger to you. Is that what you really think? That I don’t care? That you don’t care?”

Lexi let out a soft laugh, watching the messages come through. Azzi’s anger was palpable, and the tension was thick in the air, even through the phone. She was good at this—making someone doubt themselves, making them feel like they weren’t enough.

Paige: “Maybe it’s just easier to let it go. Maybe we were just a fling. Maybe I’m just tired of fighting for something that’s not even there anymore.”

The message was a sharp jab, and Lexi knew it would hurt Azzi, even more than the last one. She was playing her part perfectly, pretending to be Paige, feigning frustration and doubt.

Azzi: “Are you seriously this delusional? You’re acting like we don’t have something real here. What the hell happened to you? This isn’t you, Paige. This isn’t what we had.”

Lexi’s fingers danced across the screen one last time, sending a final blow to the conversation.

Paige: “Maybe it never was. Maybe I was just seeing things that weren’t there, and you were too caught up to notice. I don’t know what I want anymore.”

Paige’s phone buzzed with another message, but Lexi didn’t need to see it. She knew she had done enough to get inside Azzi’s head.

Paige wouldn’t even remember this conversation when she woke up, but Azzi would. And that was the part that mattered most.

Lexi smirked as she turned away, her plan already taking shape. The damage was done.

Paige lay on the floor beside her, unconscious, her body slumped against the toilet, her breathing shallow but steady. Lexi smirked at the success of her deception, knowing the damage was already done.

She was so caught up in her victory that she didn’t hear the bathroom door open. The sound of soft footsteps echoed against the tiled floor before a voice startled her.

“Hey, you okay in here?”

Lexi spun around, eyes narrowing, a flash of irritation crossing her face. A random girl stood in the doorway, her hand on the doorknob, looking at Paige’s unconscious form with raised eyebrows. She looked confused and hesitant.

“Is she okay?” the girl asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

“She’s fine,” Lexi replied quickly, attempting to mask the unease in her voice. “She just drank too much, and she’s out cold for a bit. I’m just waiting for her to wake up.”

The girl stared at Lexi for a moment, clearly unconvinced. She glanced at Paige, then back at Lexi, clearly processing something. “Are you sure? She doesn’t look okay.”

Lexi’s grip tightened on Paige’s phone, her fingers brushing across the screen as if she were holding onto the last bit of control. She offered the girl a forced smile. “Yeah, she’ll be fine. I’m her friend. Don’t worry about it.”

The girl looked skeptical but didn’t press further. She gave Paige one last glance, her brow furrowed in concern, before she shrugged and walked past Lexi, disappearing into one of the bathroom stalls. Lexi sighed in relief, but the momentary unease still lingered.

With Paige still unconscious on the floor, Lexi turned her attention back to the phone. She tapped her fingers on the screen before she saw that Azzi had replied to the last message. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she read Azzi’s response.

Azzi: “What do you mean??? Are you seriously telling me that after everything we’ve been through? Are you trying to push me away, Paige?”

Lexi’s fingers moved quickly, her mind working faster than her conscience. She had to keep the illusion up—had to make Azzi feel even more insecure.

Paige: “I don’t know what I want anymore. Maybe I’ve just been lying to myself, thinking that we could be something more than we are.”

She hit send and sat back, waiting to see Azzi’s reaction.

Azzi’s message popped up almost immediately. Lexi could practically hear the frustration and hurt in Azzi’s words as she read them.

Azzi: “Are you seriously doing this right now? I’m not going to sit here and let you talk like this. I don’t care what’s going on with you, but don’t ever make me feel like I don’t matter to you.”

Lexi smiled. She knew exactly how to push Azzi’s buttons. This was just the beginning. She would make sure that when Paige finally woke up, she would have no memory of what had happened—but Azzi? Azzi would be left wondering if she had done something wrong. She would question everything.

But Lexi wasn’t finished yet.

She glanced at Paige’s body on the floor, the sense of control growing more intoxicating by the second. There was still more to come. But for now, she let the phone sit in her hands, knowing Azzi would continue to argue with “Paige.”

She checked the time on her phone, ensuring that she had a solid window of time to execute her next steps before Paige woke up. Then, she turned her attention back to Azzi’s new message.

Azzi: “You can’t just give up on us like this, Paige. I know there’s more to us. You’re not even giving us a chance to fix it. We’ve always been able to talk through our problems before. Don’t push me away like this.”

Lexi’s smirk deepened. This was going perfectly. She was in control now, and no one—least of all Paige—would know what had happened until it was too late.

The stall door creaked open again, and the same girl stepped out, pausing as she saw Paige still slumped against the wall. Her eyes flickered from Paige’s unmoving form to Lexi, still crouched beside her, holding her phone a little too tightly.

“Are you sure she’s good?” the girl asked again, her voice more firm this time.

Lexi gave a tight-lipped smile, barely holding back her irritation. “Yeah. Like I said, she’s fine. Just had too much to drink. I’ve got it under control.”

The girl hesitated for a second, glancing at Paige again before sighing. “Alright…” she muttered, but her tone wasn’t convinced. She shook her head and walked out, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Lexi exhaled, rolling her eyes. “Nosy bitch,” she mumbled under her breath before turning her attention back to Paige, still unconscious.

And then, an idea struck her.

Her fingers tightened around Paige’s phone as she smirked to herself.

Slowly, she leaned in, tilting Paige’s chin up with her fingers before pressing her lips against hers. The kiss was long enough for what she needed—to make it convincing. Then, with one hand still gripping Paige’s phone, she snapped a picture. The dim lighting of the bathroom cast shadows across the screen, but it was clear enough. Paige’s unconscious form, Lexi’s lips pressed against hers.

Perfect.

She opened Azzi’s chat and attached the image, her smirk deepening as she typed.

Paige: Maybe this is what I really wanted all along.

And with that, she hit send.

A few moments passed before the screen lit up with a response.

Azzi: Are you serious right now? What the fuck is this?

Another message followed almost instantly.

Azzi: I don’t even know what to say to you. You really had me thinking we were building something real, but I guess I was just stupid for believing that.

Lexi bit her lip, trying to contain her satisfaction. The damage was done. Paige wouldn’t even have a chance to explain.

And just in time, because Paige was starting to stir.

A low groan escaped her lips as her fingers twitched against the cold tile. Her breathing hitched as she slowly blinked her eyes open, trying to regain her bearings.

It took her a second to process what was happening—where she was, why she felt like the room was spinning. But the second she registered the feeling of lips on hers, her entire body jerked back.

“What the fuck?” she slurred, her voice groggy, her mind still hazy from whatever was in her system. Her hands instinctively shoved against Lexi’s shoulders, pushing her back.

Lexi let out a small laugh, unfazed. “Finally awake, huh?”

Paige’s head was pounding, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog in her brain. “Why the fuck were you kissing me while I was out? Are you crazy?” Her voice was hoarse, but the anger in it was unmistakable. “I’m in a happy relationship right now. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Lexi tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Well… not anymore.”

Paige’s stomach dropped. “What the fuck does that mean?” she demanded, her voice cracking as she saw Lexi still gripping her phone. Her heart pounded as realization hit her. “What did you do?”

Lexi twirled the phone in her fingers, looking far too pleased with herself. “Just helping you out,” she said smoothly.

Paige’s blood ran cold. “Lexi,” she ground out, her voice dangerously low. “What. The fuck. Did you do?”

Lexi’s expression darkened, her possessiveness bleeding through. “I reminded her that she’s not the only one who’s ever had your attention.”

Paige’s hands shook as she reached for her phone, but Lexi yanked it back.

“I fucking swear, give me my phone,” Paige snapped, her chest tightening with panic.

Lexi smirked, but before she could say anything, the bathroom door swung open again.

The same girl from earlier stepped inside, looking around before her eyes landed on the sink. “Shit, I forgot my phone—” She trailed off as she took in the scene again. Paige now conscious, looking frantic. Lexi standing too close, gripping her phone like a lifeline.

The girl’s eyes narrowed, suspicion growing tenfold.

Paige, taking the moment of distraction, lunged for her phone, snatching it out of Lexi’s hands. She stumbled back, gripping it tightly as she immediately went to her messages.

Her stomach sank the second she saw Azzi’s name wasn’t at the top anymore.

Her fingers shook as she searched her name, only to be met with the dreaded You can’t send messages to this number.

Blocked.

“No,” Paige whispered, her breath hitching. “No, no, no, no—”

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, her vision blurring with tears. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

She looked up at Lexi, her expression a mix of fury and devastation. “What the fuck did you do?” she choked out.

Lexi just shrugged. “Guess she didn’t take it too well.”

Paige could barely breathe. This was her worst fucking nightmare. She felt like she was suffocating, the walls of the bathroom closing in on her. She had to fix this. She had to fix this now.

Without another word, she stormed out, gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. She barely even registered Lexi calling after her.

Her legs carried her toward the bar, searching frantically until she spotted KK and Ice still sitting there.

“I wanna leave,” she blurted out, her voice shaky, desperate.

They turned to her instantly, eyes widening as they took in her disheveled appearance.

“Paige, what happened?” Ice asked, concern heavy in her voice.

“I just—” Paige swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady, but the lump in her throat was suffocating. “I just need to go. Please.”

KK and Ice exchanged a look, silently agreeing.

“We’re leaving with you,” KK said firmly, standing up. “Let’s go.”

Paige didn’t argue. She let them guide her out, her mind spinning, her heart breaking.

She had to fix this.

But she had no idea if she even could.

—------------

Azzi sat on her bed, her hands shaking as she stared at her phone screen. The image was burned into her memory: a picture of Paige, her lips pressed against someone else’s, the smirk on the woman’s face who she seemed to figured it being maybe Lexi, telling her everything she needed to know. The words that accompanied the photo from Paige were cutting. Maybe this is what I really wanted all along.

Her heart felt like it was in a vice, tightening with every passing second. How had things gone so wrong so quickly? What had happened to the person she had fallen for, the one who had said sweet things to her during their late night calls and promised they were in this together?

The sting of betrayal was so sharp it almost hurt to breathe. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she wiped them away angrily. She couldn’t let herself break down. Not now. Not because of her.

But the tears came anyway, and before she could stop them, they were falling, warm and steady down her cheeks. Azzi buried her face in her hands, letting out a sob before sniffling and taking a deep breath.

That was when she heard the door creak open.

“Azzi?” Caroline’s voice was soft, cautious. “Are you okay?”

Azzi didn’t even need to look up to know it was Caroline. The way she entered the room, the hesitant steps, the way her presence seemed to fill up the space with a quiet understanding.

Azzi shook her head, but her voice cracked when she spoke. “I… I don’t know.” She looked up at Caroline, her expression pained, and held her phone out. “Look at this.”

Caroline sat next to her, leaning over to glance at the screen. Her eyes went from the messages to the photo, the last few words that had come from Paige’s number.

Caroline’s lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw setting with silent fury as she glanced back at Azzi. “What the fuck is this, Azzi?” she muttered, clearly pissed. “This… this isn’t like her.”

Azzi shook her head. “I don’t know… I don’t know what happened, Car.” She wiped away more tears, her voice thick with emotion. “Why would she send me this? I thought we were fine. She said we were fine. And now, she’s sending me this.”

Caroline’s eyes lingered on the photo again, narrowing slightly as she thought. Something in her expression seemed off, like she wasn’t entirely convinced by the situation. But she didn’t say anything. She just wrapped an arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her into a comforting hug.

“I’m so sorry, Azzi,” Caroline whispered, her voice soft, yet laced with frustration. “This is fucking messed up. But you don’t deserve this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Azzi nodded numbly, the comfort of Caroline’s embrace a stark contrast to the cold, angry ache in her chest.

A few moments of silence passed before Caroline pulled away slightly, her tone shifting. “Do you want me to message her? Find out what the hell is going on?”

Azzi shook her head immediately. “No,” she said, her voice firm despite the tears still clinging to her eyes. “I don’t want to hear from her right now. I need space. I don’t even know if I want to talk to her anymore.”

Caroline nodded, her eyes softer now, but still full of concern. “Okay. But if you change your mind, I’ll be here. I’m not going to leave you alone with this, alright?”

Azzi took a shaky breath and nodded again, glancing down at her phone. She was still in shock, still reeling from the words she’d read.

She had blocked Paige’s number. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she didn’t think it would feel like this. Her fingers hovered over the phone screen again, wondering if she’d made the right choice. She thought she had been protecting herself, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“I just… I don’t know what happened,” Azzi murmured. “I thought we were getting somewhere. But now this. I feel like I don’t even know her anymore, Caroline.”

Caroline gave her a sympathetic smile, but it was laced with anger. “You deserve better than this, Azzi. Don’t forget that. You’ll figure this out, okay?”

Azzi nodded again, trying to hold herself together. But the more she thought about the picture, the more her stomach twisted. The pain of it was still raw.

Caroline squeezed her shoulder before standing up. “If you need anything, let me know. But I think it’s best to give it some time. She’ll have to come to you if she wants to fix this.”

Azzi watched her leave, her mind still spinning. She knew Caroline was right. But right now, all she could do was try to breathe through the hurt and confusion.

She had to step away, but it didn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

—------------

Paige sat on the edge of her bed, her head still spinning. The room felt too warm, the air too thick. Her body was heavy, her movements sluggish, and there was this tight, sick feeling in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Ice and KK had come with her to the room, both of them insisting she sit down while they tried to piece together what had happened. But every time she tried to explain, she felt more lost.

“Paige, what the hell happened?” Ice’s voice was soft, but there was an edge to it that made Paige glance up. Ice looked worried—hell, they both did.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Paige muttered, rubbing her temples. Her head was pounding, and everything felt blurry. “I just… I was at the bar, and I was talking to people, you know, trying to relax after everything. I wasn’t paying attention to my drink—then I felt off. Real off. And then I remember feeling dizzy, and the next thing I know, I woke up in the bathroom with Lexi all over me.”

KK narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Lexi? She was there?” She seemed to already know where this was going, but Paige didn’t know how to explain it.

Paige nodded, the room swaying a little as she shifted. “Yeah… And I didn’t even know what was happening. I don’t even know how long I was out for, but when I woke up, she was kissing me.”

Ice’s jaw clenched. “Jesus. So you’re telling me, while you were out of it, Lexi just… took advantage of you?”

Paige swallowed hard, nodding. She could still feel the nauseous weight of it all pressing against her chest. “Yeah. And then she… I don’t even know how to explain it. She went on my phone and pretended to be me. She messaged Azzi. She sent her a picture of us kissing. Kissing, Ice. And then, after I got my phone back, I tried to message Azzi, but…” Paige trailed off, her throat tightening. “She blocked me.”

The words hit her like a ton of bricks, making her stomach churn all over again. Azzi had blocked her. How was she supposed to fix this when Azzi had blocked her out?

KK and Ice exchanged a look. KK spoke first, her voice carefully measured. “Do you want me to message Azzi for you? Tell her what happened? Maybe she’ll understand if you explain.”

Paige shook her head, her eyes filling with frustrated tears. “No… I don’t want to do that.” She wiped them away, feeling embarrassed. “I don’t want to hurt her more. I don’t even know how to explain all of this. Azzi’s probably pissed at me, and I don’t blame her. I… I’ve fucked up so badly, KK.”

Paige’s chest tightened again, the pain of not being able to reach Azzi eating away at her.

“Okay,” KK said, her tone softening. “I get it. If you need space, we can give you that. But you need to talk to her, Paige. She deserves to know what really happened. Just… take a breath, yeah?”

Paige exhaled shakily, nodding. “I know. I know I need to fix it, but I don’t even know where to start. I just…” She stopped herself, glancing down at her hands. “I’m scared, okay? I’m scared she won’t want to hear from me. That she’ll just… write me off for good.”

“You’ve been through a lot, Paige,” Ice said, her voice firm but full of compassion. “But don’t let Lexi screw this up for you. You two are good together. You just have to make it right.”

Paige let out a breath, trying to calm the swirling emotions in her head. “I want to make it right. But I can’t force it, you know? I need to give her space. I have to let her come to me when she’s ready.”

KK nodded, understanding. “Alright. But don’t wait too long, Paige. If you care about her, you need to fight for her. Don’t let Lexi win.”

Paige gave them both a small, tired smile. “I’m not gonna let Lexi win. I just need time to figure this out and for her to figure this out as well. The last thing I want is to lose her for good.”

KK and Ice exchanged one last glance before both of them gave Paige a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You got this,” Ice said quietly, before they both left the room, leaving Paige alone with her thoughts.

But as they left, Paige couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in her gut. She had no idea how to fix this. She had no idea what she was even supposed to do next. But one thing was certain: she wasn’t going to let Lexi’s games destroy everything she had with Azzi.

She just hoped Azzi would still give her the chance to prove it.

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