wave | lee donghyuck (part two)
part 1 | masterpost | full fic not split in two
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, weed/alcool consumption, thigh riding, oral (receiving, giving), unprotected sex, 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: 20.3k (out of 42k)
a/n: here’s the second part. please if you liked it leave feedback (comments, reblogs, asks), i love knowing your opinions and it keeps me motivated to keep posting my writing. enjoy!
After too many dates, too many studying sessions together, and in general too much time spent together —even with his group of friends— you feel like this is a relationship that simply hasn’t been named, yet. Something about everything doesn’t feel like just sex and hate.
You’re fine like this, for once believing you can let loose a little and still do well in your studies.
Haechan, instead, thinks his plan is going amazingly. He knows he has you distracted, he knows he takes away your time, and he knows everything is technically perfect. But the plan is not the best made of his life, and the more time passes, the more he forgets about it, and the more he thinks about you.
He never planned to use you, that had to be clear. He just wanted to distract you with sex —something you both wanted to have— and give you a boyfriend experience so you could write the song in the best way possible. But in doing all that, he is more caught up in you —and not only because of the plan, he is just caught up in you— than in his studies.
It’s nine pm on Sunday after he dropped you home around four pm this afternoon. He made you meet his girl friends too for lunch and then you went back to his place to stay together for a while. But even if you spent almost the entire day together, he still misses you.
He rolls on his back as he goes into his contacts to text you again, he doesn’t have to scroll down, you’re second on the list since he last annoyed you forty minutes ago but you still haven’t replied.
haechan:
can you answer me?
haechan:
i miss you : (
haechan:
you didn’t even let me eat you out
haechan:
you looked so pretty in that skirt i think it looks better with my head underneath it
haechan:
fuck and now i’m hard thinking about you
mortal enemy:
the only hard thing should be the books you should be studying on, remember we have a test tomorrow?
“Fuck,” he screams, sitting up. “What?”
He never forgets these things. He always writes them down in his agenda that he maniacally reads every day to make sure he’s always on time with his studying schedule. He can’t have forgotten about it. But, apparently, he did.
His thumb quickly wipes to call you and your answer doesn’t let him wait.
“I’m studying,” you huff annoyed as you pick up his phone call right away.
“Why would you go out with me if tomorrow we have a test?”
Your chuckle reaches his ear through the phone before he gets to hear your voice again. “Why not?”
“Don’t you want to be the top one? What about your grades? This adds up for the finals.” Panic fills his voice, he’s hoping you remembered just now and haven’t been studying since you went back, but you’re too relaxed for that to be true.
“Yeah, I know,” you reply, too calmly for his liking. Was his plan working? No, because you knew about it. And he completely erased the test, too busy thinking about you.
“And you go out?” He asks again as anxiety starts to take over him.
“Why would I lock myself up before a test? It’s not even that serious. There’s the topic you pick, and then like four questions that will surely be the main things we discussed in class, Professor Kim only knows one way of making tests.”
He groans, he can’t believe you’re always so ahead of him. “How do you know these things?”
“I use my brain,” you reply nonchalantly.
“So you started studying… when you got home?”
“Last week.”
“Last week? Are you kidding me?” He screams so loud that he’s sure you have to move the phone from your ear.
You sigh, rubbing your temples, Haechan knows it, you always do that when he pisses you off somehow. “You didn’t open the book at least once until now?”
“I…” I would usually read through the notes at least once a week, but I’ve been too busy. “I’ve… I read the notes, until some weeks ago. I got busy, okay?”
“Were you perhaps distracted by something Hyuck?” You ask teasingly, and he can see you twirl the end of your hair in your fingers while your tongue pokes at your cheek.
“Nothing distracts me,” he mutters, frowning even if you can’t see him.
“Then hang the call and try to read the notes at least, I’ll send you the recordings of the lessons, play them all night maybe something will stick to your brain.”
“Okay, bye. Wish me good luck, please,” he says, and you chuckle. “No seriously, don’t manifest against me, I need all your good energy.”
“I will, Hyuck. Just give it a quick read and then try to get as much sleep as possible. You have a brain and you’re smart with it, it’s better for you to be active tomorrow than force information that just won’t get in, alright?”
He hums, weirdly feeling a bit calmer at your words. “’kay, goodnight, babe.”
“Goodnight.”
Haechan sighs, slumping on the bed, boner long gone and anxiety on his chest, until the screen lights up again and a few messages from you show up.
mortal enemy:
10 audios
+ 10 files ‘music theory notes’
sent the audios anyway but my *perfect* notes should be enough to not make you pull up an all-nighter
also don’t stress too much, I appreciate the act of chivalry to make me top this class grades again :;
He forgot about an exam, he didn’t study for it, yet he’s smiling like an idiot because of you.
Haechan’s screwed.
“So, how did it go?” You ask, blocking Haechan as soon as the bell rings and Professor Kim dismisses the class, letting you know the results will be in next week.
Haechan glares at you, and you suck your teeth. “Come on, it wasn’t that difficult,” you say, sitting on his desk, as he looks for something in his bag.
“I did great, I just don’t want to admit your notes are perfect and were enough to save my ass,” he says, and you can’t hold back the smile.
“You’re welcome,” you say, standing up and kicking him playfully with a swing of your hips.
“Hey! You could’ve made me fall,” he jokes, grabbing his bag before taking a step back so you can lead the way out of there. “And thank you.”
You chuckle, lowering your head to hide that dumb grin on your face. “You know, I wanted to ask you why we never revisited music theory but I thought you wanted to do it on your own, maybe you were scheming something against me.”
“What? I would never scheme against you,” he says as you start walking to lunch.
You stare at him with a raised brow, and he huffs. “It was in the past and you did it too. Also, what would I scheme?”
“I don’t know, maybe you sneaked into his office and stole the test to already know the answers?”
“That would be cheating, not beating you. There’s no fun in that,” he says, holding the door of the cafeteria open for you.
“You’re such a fair rival,” you joke as you head to the buffet to grab something to eat.
“Wait,” he stops you when your plates are full. “Why don’t you sit at our table? I hate seeing you eat alone.”
“Have you ever considered I can’t stand how loud your friends are?”
“Oh come on, you already deal with them when you come to my place.”
“Exactly.”
Haechan huffs, standing in front of you to stop you from going toward your table. “We can go to yours today.”
You furrow, lightly tilting your head to the side. “We don’t have anything to study.” You try to decipher his expression and think if you could get so distracted to forget something you had to work on or revisit. “The song?”
He shakes his head. “I might…” he pauses, trying to find a way to say what he wants to say that’s not so humiliating, but then he gives up with a heavy sigh that rolls from his lips. “Okay, I need help.”
“You?” You scream, attracting some attention on you, and Haechan glares at you, pulling you to the sides so that the curious gazes can linger away from you.
“Yes, me,” he replies through gritted teeth. “It’s just a small thing, but I don’t get it.”
You smirk smugly and he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I can’t wait to tutor you,” you reply, starting to walk to his group of friends’ table.
“Why can’t I ever win with you?” He whispers, shaking his head and following you.
You’re not sure Haechan told you the truth. He is smart but he isn’t the best actor ever, and when he came to your place to try to understand that small thing he didn’t understand in sociology, you were pretty sure it was just an excuse. You explained it in less than five minutes, he got it too quickly and immediately started messing around.
You don’t mind it, though. You enjoy spending some time with him. He’s a good distraction. Surely you would’ve fixed some notes or listened to some lessons instead of… well, instead of being on his lap with your fingers in his hair and his hands on your ass, grinding on him.
You hold in a moan when he concentrates on your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking the spot that makes you shiver. And you’d like to go on like this, but you need more. So you shift on top of his thigh, while yours presses against his hardening dick and makes him growl.
“What are you do—”
“Shh,” you shush him quickly, pressing your thumb on his lips before replacing it with your lips. “Ouch,” you gasp when he bites on your lower lip. “Why did you do that?”
Haechan chuckles, shrugging before leaning close to you again. “Why not?”
You frown but have no intention of carrying it any further. You can feel your panties stick to your skin and you just want to come, not really caring if it’s just like this.
But the moment of intimacy, if you could call it that, gets interrupted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket.
“God, just answer,” you yell when Haechan ignores the third call but whoever is on the other line has no intention to stop trying.
Haechan rolls his eyes as his right hand leaves your ass to search through his pocket and huffs annoyed when he sees the name on the screen.
“Jaemin, what?” Haechan groans as you keep moving on his thighs, ignoring his deadly glare. “No, I’m busy.”
You faintly make out an angry reply from the other side, but you don’t care enough to understand what Jaemin’s saying.
“No, I can’t go out with you.”
“We can,” you reply loudly enough so that Jaemin can hear while Haechan scowls at you again, muttering a scold under his breath, but his anger is quickly addressed to his friend on the other side.
“Yes, I’m with her,” he huffs, rolling his head back, trying to stop your movements but failing. “Don’t ask questions. And yes, fine, fine.”
When he hangs the call after mumbling a quick, annoyed goodbye, you chuckle. “Thought you didn’t want to hear my annoying friends?” It’s all he asks, leaving a small, teasing slap on your asscheek.
“What were we supposed to do? Stay inside all day?”
“Yes, we have everything here,” he says, spreading his arms to point around. “And you’re still grinding on me.” He looks down, eyes narrowing as he stares at your hips.
“I’ll finish and then we’ll get out,” you wink, starting to move faster but he has no intention to get back into the mood, not yet, at least.
“You’ll stain my pants and where do I come?” He huffs, and you’re sure he’s trying to find an excuse to don’t go outside rather than one to don’t fuck with you. He would never say no to that, especially when you two are already in the middle of it.
“Take them off,” you urge, jumping off him, waiting for him to get undressed as you do the same, your panties the only thing staying on. “Come on. You don’t want to be late.”
Haechan groans, “you’re so… so greedy. You just want everything.”
“Yeah, am I allowed to have one flaw?” You bat your lashes at him, grinning when his eyes roll in the back of his head. “Oh, will I stain the underwear, too?” You ask when his lower half is completely bare to your eyes.
“Honey, I’m not coming inside my boxers, can’t wear your panties to hang out with the boys,” he says annoyed.
You chuckle, climbing on his thigh again, watching him whimper when your bare leg brushes against his dick and you press on him to be as close as you were before.
He doesn’t know why you didn’t take the panties off, but he knows he doesn’t want them there. He wants to feel you on his skin. As hot as this is, he wants to feel your pussy drip down his thigh, and your panties are stopping the full experience.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Donghyuck!” You scream when the sound of the fabric ripping hits your ears and the chill air of the room hits your warm core.
He groans. “It’s so hot when you say my real name with an angry tone, makes it hard to hold back fucking you.”
“You need to stop ripping my stuff,” you complain, trying to hide how hot you found that, the ripping of the panties and that fucking smirk on his face now that he lays back against the headboard of your bed, so proud and snotty that is hard for you to hold back fucking him.
“Shut up, you love it,” he says, pulling you into a rough kiss, pushing your body closer while his hand rests on your hips to guide you in the movements. “Also they weren’t a good pair, if you were in lingerie I would’ve asked you politely to take them off.”
“You will never see me in lingerie,” you retort, pulling away as your hand sneaks down and starts moving up and down on his throbbing cock.
“Fuck,” he groans, “at least warn me?”
“I’m half naked, grinding on top of you and I have to warn you when I grab your dick?” You ask. “If you don’t want, I won’t make you come.”
“No, just —fuck,” he glares at you when you concentrate on the tip, “don’t be a bitch.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckle but still move your hand quickly, following the steady rhythm of your thighs. Your head rolls back when one of his hands creeps under your shirt and cups your boob, his thumb brushing against your hard, sensitive nipple.
Haechan sucks in a deep breath when your thighs start shaking around his and your cum drips down his thigh. “Fuck,” he moans, eyelids fluttering as he looks at you, head reclined back as you hold onto him with only one hand, the other still busy taking care of him. “This is so hot, you are so hot.”
The compliment pushes you closer to reaching your high and when he lifts your shirt to wrap his lips around your sensitive nipple, you lose it.
You whimper and quiver, hips moving messily as you keep riding your high, breath getting stuck in your throat when he accidentally bites you as his orgasm washes over him unexpectedly.
“Fuck, sorry,” he mumbles, and if you weren’t still so lost in your pleasure you would let him know you liked it.
When your hips still, and the dizzying sensation calms down, you lay your head against his shoulder for a while as his arms wrap around your waist.
“Can we stay in?” Haechan pouts when you try to get away from him, reaching for your hand to keep you next to him before he rolls over when you shake your head and jump off the bed. “Please.”
“We can’t always fuck and study and study and fuck,” you reply, cleaning yourself up, holding in a sigh when you realize he stained the cover of your bed with his cum.
“Who said I want to do either of those things?” He says, looking up at you with puppy eyes, pushing his lower lip out to pity you.
“I know you,” you reply, glaring at him before pulling your pants back on, not even caring about putting on another pair of underwear, you would’ve had to wash all those clothes anyway after taking a well-deserved shower, but for now you only had to pick some clothes to go out with the boys.
“No, let’s stay in and, I don’t know. Should we sing?” He proposes, jumping on his feet and putting his discarded underwear on.
You laugh, staring at him in shock. “You want to sing?”
“Yeah, you have a guitar, right?”
You nod, turning around the corner where your guitar is.
“Don’t you want to hear my angelic voice?”
You take a deep breath at his brag and then exhale loudly. “But Jaemin?”
“Fuck him, I don’t care,” he says while a small victory grin already starts widening on his face. He knows you’re about to give in.
You huff, rubbing your temples and giving up fighting him when his fingers are already typing on the phone to tell his friend you two can’t come anymore.
When he puts the phone away and smiles at you in anticipation, you sigh. You really are stuck with him, aren’t you?
“Why don’t we prepare biscuits?” You suggest. You wanted to bake something for a while now, but you never really find time to dedicate to the kitchen.
“Biscuits?”
You nod, stealing his sweatshirt to wear on top of your shirt before walking to the kitchen —that space you consider the kitchen.
“I’m a mess when it comes to cooking, you know, right?” He confesses as he leans against the countertop, watching you move around to grab all the ingredients and tools you need.
“You? Admitting you’re bad at something? To me?” You ask with a teasing tone, but you’re genuinely surprised he let you know without turning even this into a competition.
He fakes a laugh. “Very funny,” he says. “I just don’t want to hear you complain if I make some mistakes and ruin your perfect biscuits.”
You chuckle. “Can you weigh the ingredients and then put them all in a bowl?”
“All at the same time?”
You nod, handing him what he needs and showing him where the scale is. “Is not that hard, even you can do it. Plus, it will be another thing I teach you today,” you wink.
“Careful, baby. Don’t start thinking you’re so much better than me,” he says, starting to weigh the ingredients and putting them in each separate bowl.
You scoff. “Honey, I won’t start thinking that,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder, “I already think that.” You leave a teasing kiss on his cheek before he hits you with the flour and you gasp.
“Oh, no, we’re not doing that,” you warn, taking a step back, seeing how he’s ready with another handful of it.
“Then take it back,” he says nonchalantly.
“I never take back the truth —oh, Jesus Christ, Donghyuck!”
He laughs loudly, bending forward as he glances at you, flour on your face and well, his sweater. “Don’t call my name like that again, though. I won’t resist this time,” he says when he finally stands up and stands right in front of your face. “Now, will you take it back?”
“Never —Ah!” You scream when he lifts you up without a warning and sits you on the table before he starts tickling you. “No, no, please,” you babble, shaking your head and trying to stop his hands on you but he’s faster. “Okay, fine, I’m not better than you — I’m not better than you!”
“Good,” he says, stopping his torture and smiling proudly. “I love it when you listen,” he jokes, kissing you again.
You should hate it —or at least don’t like it so much— when he kisses you like this, out of nowhere, for no reason at all other than wanting to shut you up, or maybe to feel you. But you truly don’t mind. Actually, you lean in for another one, and another one and another… until you feel this is once again going in another direction and, as much as you’d love to indulge in the moment, you want to prepare those biscuits.
“Enough,” you say, pushing him away and jumping off the table. “No more food waste and we’re doing this together.”
You discover you and Haechan work better in the kitchen than in other fields, maybe because there’s no tension pushing you to do better but you are listening to each other, teaching tricks, and simply having fun. And this atmosphere stays with you even when he grabs the guitar and starts playing the tune of your song, you sing some bits of the lyrics and then jokily propose to add some about baking cookies on a cloudy spring afternoon, expecting him to laugh at it but he just smiles and tells you to go on. And you do, mumbling something about being in the kitchen, humming, baking, and laughing. You think it’s too cliché, and you will surely go back to it obsessively until it comes at you like you want it, but he loves it.
Then the oven rings, signalling the biscuits are ready and none of you can believe they came out good, nothing burned, and they’re tasty. Somehow, those cookies, feel like the biggest achievement you two ever made together.
“Maybe we should stop fighting each other,” he mumbles, after chewing his last bite. “We make a pretty great team.”
You smile, cleaning your lips with a napkin, crumbs falling on the table. “Hate to agree, but we do,” you say. “I mean… we kinda teamed up months ago, don’t you think so?”
“We want to kill each other, and you call that teaming up?”
“It’s our way of teaming up,” you reply, handing him a clean napkin so he can clean himself, and he takes it. “We just like to keep the flame alive, if we stopped bickering at all, it wouldn’t be so funny.”
Haechan shrugs, he guesses so. “Not like anybody else ever stood a chance with us on top.”
You chuckle. “Imagine if someone is using our rivalry to get to the top and we never noticed them.”
“Honey, trust me, I would’ve noticed.”
Once you’re done eating, you push him into the shower. There’s flour, and dough on all your clothes, and you still need to wash off the sex of before. You’d opt to shower separately but you’re tight on water and you have to make the best out of the confined space, reason why his plan to fuck another time fails.
“Why are you wearing my pink robe?” You turn around two seconds to grab the towel you prepared for him, and he betrays you. “This was for you,” you say, holding up the white towel as you stand there naked.
“I already put it on, it’s wet,” he says. “Come on, it’s pretty.”
“Yeah, that’s why is my favourite robe,” you pout, but still wrap the towel around you because you don’t want to freeze.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and, before you can even think how, you don’t feel the ground under your feet anymore. Your arms immediately wrap around his shoulders for more safety as you let him carry you outside. You have no idea what is going on today, but you like this, how he’s taking care of you —in his way, of course— and how this feels good.
“You have to change it anyway,” he says when he drops you on the bed and, as soon as you open your mouth, he knows you’re about to complain about the wet towel on the dry covers. “I’ll help you change it later.”
While you change into your new clothes, your pink pyjamas with small black hearts as a pattern, you watch him walk around as if he’s so familiar with the place —not that it would take much for anyone to know where everything is, considering how small it is— but something about it makes a feeling of comfort and warmth spread in your heart. Nobody else had ever been inside that place.
But then you snap out of it and realize he’s naked, and his clothes are dirty, so you rush to the closet to find something to give him.
“So, mhh,” you say, making the things you grabbed fall in front of him, who’s sitting at the table. “I have those sweatpants and a sweater, or these pyjamas if you want it, it’s pink, but it doesn’t look like you care much,” you note, looking at how much he’s rocking your robe.
“Pink pjs! We’ll match,” he says, eyes lighting up as he wastes no moment getting out of the bathrobe.
“Out of the kitchen!”
“There’s not even a wall?”
“Still, get out,” you say, pushing him with force away from there. “Better.”
He rolls his eyes but still grabs the shirt and pulls it on him, blinking when he sees a pair of clean boxers. “Why do you have these?” He still studies them, thinking he has seen them before.
“Because they’re yours,” you say nonchalantly while fixing your hair in a braid.
“They’re mine? I left them here?”
“I might’ve accidentally dragged them with me once,” you confess, looking at him with a big, awkward smile.
“When?”
“When Jaemin almost pushed the door down and we had to rush to get dressed. I just stuffed everything in my bag and your underwear was next to mine so, ta-da,” you say, stretching your arms and shaking your hands to complete the sound effect.
Haechan sighs, nodding. “Of course, it must have been because of Jaemin, somehow.”
“Well, it turned out useful, just put them on. I don’t want to see your dick more than necessary.”
Haechan scoffs and bites back a comment as he finishes getting dressed. “You have to admit I look really good in pink.”
You look at him up and down while he twirls, and you smile. “You would be my favourite Barbie at the mall if they sold you in boxes.”
“God, you’re so annoying, can’t ever make normal compliments,” he complains. “Come on, help me with the bed. It won’t clean itself.”
Making the bed with him is tiresome. His weird way and theories about making it lead you two to bicker more than you should and remake it twice to see who is right —you, obviously. So, once you’re done with it, laying on it with him by your side, you know not even God himself will make you stand up to cook dinner. You don’t need to say a word, Haechan already has his phone out ready to order, and you couldn’t be happier.
You spend ten minutes deciding what movie to watch and another five bickering because you don’t want to eat on the bed, but he insists you won’t make a mess, and if you do, he will help you clean up. It ends with you giving up and the bell ringing with your order ready.
You never have nights like this. You always try to cook on your own and don’t waste money on eating out, and you also never finish the movie or the series you start, either too tired halfway or with something more important to care about, for example, some notes to copy, or lessons to listen.
But this is nice.
You two joke, laugh, eat, and then you start to feel the sleep take over you, and you don’t think about sending him home or falling asleep on the pillow.
And as you rest your head on his shoulder, Haechan’s more and more sure that his plan failed.
“You’re playing with me, right?” You ask when Haechan messes up for the nth time. The end of the year is approaching, and you two are getting ready for yet another test, the last before the finals, but right now he’s testing your patience not getting a single answer right. You’ve been stuck in his room for hours now.
“I wish I was, my brain is fried,” he huffs, throwing his head back on his chair.
You’re speechless and you shake your head. “It’s super easy, you were better than me in this class, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You snap.
“Hey! Why are you so pissed? Shouldn’t you be happy you’ll beat me even in this?”
“Be serious,” you say, sending him a deadly glare. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m…” he huffs, shaking his head, and turning around in his chair to avoid you. “I’m just stressed for a lot of things. I’m tired, I didn’t sleep tonight.”
“You struggled even last week. And when the Professor asked you something in class you gave an answer that is just not you,” you say, cutting off his bullshit, grabbing the armrest of the chair, and forcing him to face you with a rough tug on the chair.
“There are too many things to remember,” he says, after frowning at how harsh you have been. “It’s not that I don’t know, it’s that I mess it all up.”
You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Do I have to motivate you?”
He lifts his head, staring at you with a furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s play a game,” you say, sitting better on the chair, and Haechan gulps when doing so your skirt —short skirt, incredibly short skirt— rises. He will never tell you, but the way you show up on your dates is another reason why he can’t concentrate. It’s May, it’s so hot. It’s your excuse, but he would bet you’re also doing it to mess up with him.
“No,” he replies, already fearing your proposal.
“Why not? You didn’t hear it, yet.”
He sighs but signals you to go on with a quick movement of his fingers.
“So, we’ll revisit once again, I’ll try to explain all your doubts. Then, I’ll ask you a question, if you get it right, I’ll take off one piece of clothes, if you get it wrong, you’ll take off one, and vice versa.”
“How studying with you butt-naked would make me learn more things?” He almost screams in a high-pitched voice.
“See!” You say. “You’re already starting with the idea you’ll lose.”
“Because I can’t get anything in my brain, and if I get it right then you’ll have to take something off and all I’ll think about will be… you.” I already only think about you, he’d like to add, but that’s too humiliating. Just like the grin on your face. He hates how weak he is. He hates how easy it is for you to win battle after battle. And he hates even more that his plan is showing flaws with each passing day. He doesn’t want you to be his Waterloo, but he’s not sure he can come up with another strategy soon enough to beat you.
“Fine, then no study-strip-poker,” you give up, but the smug smirk on your face doesn’t drop when you start to think of something else that could motivate him, it only grows bigger when you finally get it. “If you answer right to at least ten of the fifteen questions, I’ll suck your dick.”
Haechan gulps. His eyes immediately fall on your lips as his brain starts to wander on lands he shouldn’t think about, not now at least, not when he has a bigger obstacle to face if he wants to get there.
“Hey,” you call his attention, snapping your fingers and waving them in front of his face. “It has to be motivation, not distraction. Do you want me?”
He huffs, throwing his head back. “Can’t we just fuck and then we’ll start again?” He pouts like he does every time he wants something from you.
“No,” you reply sternly, stealing his sweatshirt from his chair and putting it on you. “You don’t get the prize if you don’t win.”
“That’s not fair. And why are you covering up?”
“So you can’t distract yourself,” you say. You might like to tease him with more revealing clothes, but your intent is never to get him to be this distracted. You don’t want to be the reason he will fail this last test.
“You’re not my distraction,” he scoffs, diverting his gaze, and moving closer to his desk.
You decide to ignore him, you know the truth, and as much as the idea of him starting to lose because he’s too busy thinking of you, sends you on cloud nine, you also don’t want him to do terribly, especially in a class you know he loves and is good at.
“I know the theory,” he says, stopping you from going back to the start. “I wouldn’t be able to produce songs if I didn’t.”
“Yeah, but you just failed to explain how you create and add effects, and you forgot the basic difference between the dry sound and the wet sound, so revisiting some theory won’t hurt.”
Haechan sighs but soon gives up as you hand him your notes. He always thought you were crazy for also having printed pictures of how the software works but now that he needs it, he couldn’t be more grateful that you’re so precise with everything.
You start explaining things once again, cutting short about the most basic notions and diving deeper into the last lessons, as you try to stop as much as you can to make sure he’s still following you. And, after almost an hour, you’re done.
“What are you doing?” He asks when you take off his sweater again. “What about my concentration?”
“I needed your focus while I was explaining, now you have to answer even if you have distractions.”
He huffs loudly, throwing his head back. “But don’t play dirty, you can’t touch yourself or anything like that.”
“I’m not that cruel, I just want you to answer me,” you say. “So, let’s start with an easy one, should we?”
Haechan answers the first questions with ease, not like he usually would, but it’s still better than the mess of before. And he would be so close to getting the last one that keeps him on thin ice, he only got five wrong...
“No, no, no, please,” he begs, trying to stop you in place. “Please, give me one last chance. Ask me just one last question.”
“You got six wrong, babe,” you reply, loving how he’s almost on the verge of tears as his big brown eyes look up at you.
“But it was hard, I will never remember all the types of old reverbs unit,” he whines, coming closer to you.
“Then why do I?”
“Don’t lie, you don’t remember them either, I can’t even pronounce some of those names.”
You chuckle. “Oh, it’s really funny when the lack of a good fuck gets in your brain.” It’s not about sound design anymore. It’s about the desperation behind his eyes; knowing he wants you so much even if you’re the biggest reason for his despair gets your body hot and your pussy wet.
He groans, slumping back on his chair as he gives up on you. Or so he thinks because when he doesn’t pity you enough and you’re still packing your things to leave, he’s back again with his complaint.
“Please, one last chance? I didn’t mess the others up, I just made some tiny mistakes.”
“And you didn’t answer to two,” you say, ignoring him, trying to keep a serious face to not show your true emotions.
“Do I have to get on my knees?”
You snicker. “You look good on your knees,” you taunt but you don’t expect him to do that. “Get up!”
“Not until you give me another chance,” he retorts. “Please.”
You huff, rolling your eyes. “Fine, but just one.”
He nods enthusiastically, almost looking like a puppy being teased with a treat before he sits up in front of you.
“The differences, all the differences, between the shelving equalizer and the peaking equalizer.”
“Okay, I know this one, I know it,” he says before he starts explaining without missing a single detail. “So?” He asks with eyes full of hope as if he doesn’t know he just gave you a perfect answer.
“It was… great,” you tease him but you can’t keep a straight face when you see the pout on his face. “Kidding, kidding, you answered perfectly. So, I guess you deserve your prize.”
“Yes,” he screams, and in a second he throws himself on you but you shake your head and push him back on his chair. “What?”
“You sit there and let me handle this,” you say, placing your hands on his thighs. “Take them off,” you order, tilting your head to point at his grey pants. You see he’s confused about where you want this to go, but he obeys you anyway. “Everything,” you add when he’s still in his boxers. “Good boy, come here,” you say, patting your lap.
Haechan frowns. “You said you were going to suck me off.”
“I know, and have I ever break my promises?”
“I don’t know.”
“Just trust me and come here,” you order, waiting for him to follow. “Can’t believe you’ve been this hard all this time,” you say, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, starting to pump the pre-cum that leaked.
“You teased me,” he huffs, trying to keep his composure as he watches your hand moving on him delicately.
“I know, babe. I’m sorry,” you pout, one hand sneaking under his big white shirt to tease his nipples.
“Don’t,” he mutters, but you only laugh.
“Don’t, what? Let me take care of you, you’re stressed.”
He doesn’t reply, his head falls back as your movements on his dick quicken. He feels so small in your hold and he should find this more embarrassing but he doesn’t care. He loves the way your hand wanders delicately on his body and your lips leave pecks on his neck while the movements on his dick are fast enough to give him what he wants but not too fast to ruin this moment.
Your hands keep moving while your lips kiss his neck and jaw.
“Feels so good,” Donghyuck hums, shifting in your lap.
“I told you,” you chuckle, watching him roll his head back on your shoulder as his eyes close. “The others will hear you,” you say when his whimpers get louder.
“Don’t care,” he moans. “Feels too good.”
You smile and shrug. If he doesn't care, who are you to worry about it? It’s not like they don’t know what happens between you two.
So you quicken your hand, sliding up and down his sensitive dick so fast you make him tremble in your hold.
“You’re so cute like this, you know?” You say. “You look so small and delicate.” You expect him to get mad but instead, he moans and nods swiftly. And you know that stress got him good. Donghyuck, admitting to be vulnerable in your hands? You can only thank the weight the University is putting on his shoulders. But if that’s a way to make it go away, you can’t complain.
“I’m gonna — gonna come,” he whimpers when you start rubbing your thumb on his tip. “Fuck.”
You trap his scream with your other hand, staring at him as he slumps against you as his orgasm washes over him, squirting white strings of cum on your hand and his crumpled shirt.
“Get on the bed,” you urge while lifting the shirt off his body, leaving him naked. He barely has time to put himself together, but you don’t care and you know he needs more too.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair that you’re still all dressed up?” He asks, still sitting on top of you.
“Do you want me to suck your dick, or do you want me to leave?” Is the only thing you have to say to make him obey with no more complaints. “Good. You should be thankful I gave you another chance. Right now you would be masturbating all alone and have no knowledge of sound design, so… what do we say?”
“What do you want me to say? You didn’t—”
“What do we say?” You shut him up, pulling his hair back harshly as your body weights on his lap, eliciting a broken groan.
“Tha — thank you,” he mumbles, cock throbbing right against your thigh. “Thank you but, please, do something, I’m… I need you.”
You snicker, letting go of his head and crawling back on the bed. “You’re so pathetic,” you mock, grabbing his dick again. “Begging on your knees just because you wanted my mouth.”
Haechan groans, throwing his head back but the harsh slap on his thigh makes him snap his eyes open.
“Why?” He squeaks.
“Eyes on me when I’m talking to you,” you order before lowering down so you can tease his tip with your tongue, making him bite back a loud moan.
“Please,” he pleads, and you finally give in. When you take him in your mouth, the broken breath that rolls from his lips makes your pussy clench around nothing.
“Shit,” he moans, fists clenching in the sheets as you suck harder, moving your head up and down in quick movements. He wants to look at you, knowing it will be even harder to not come on the spot, but he’s fighting with so many parts of him, he doesn’t know what to do.
When you pull away to look at him, he whines, hips bucking up in search of physical contact. You snicker, “and then I am the greedy one?”
“You’ve been teasing since you stepped inside the house,” he whines, trying to grab your hand but you don’t let him. “Come on, I’ve been good.”
It’s true, he has been good, but you don’t want him to come yet. “You can’t come, not yet.”
“Fine, just — just don’t tease me. Please,” he cries, begging you with his eyes.
You start taking care of him seriously; bobbing your head up and down while your hand wraps at his base to touch him where you can’t reach. Your movements are quick, but not too messy, since you’re trying to avoid creating a pool of spit and pre-cum all over his lap.
“Your mouth, fuck,” he groans, involuntarily fucking into your throat and uttering a slurred apology. “You’re just so good. God,” he curses, and you catch him rolling his eyes. “Even at — even at this you’re good.”
You snicker to yourself and keep focusing on his dick, heavy on your tongue as you suck with force.
You might be too good, cause it doesn’t take a lot for him to explode in your mouth; a brief warning for you to choose if you want to pull away and then the pleasure runs through his body for the second time.
You barely have time to clean your chin from the cum that dripped down that Haechan pulls you close to him, kissing you intensely while his hands are all over your body. “Want you, please, please fuck me,” he begs against your lips.
You slip out of your panties, quickly grabbing the base of his cock to line it with your soaked entrance because you can’t wait anymore.
“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet,” he hums when you sink, wrapping your hands around his shoulders.
“Want to take merits for this, too?”
“Well, yes,” he retorts. “Shit, don’t move, it’s not fair.”
“Everything is fair between us,” you say, starting to pick up a rhythm that makes him struggle to come up with a snarky reply. “Loss of words?”
He groans, throwing his head back and tightening the hold around your waist. “You can —mmph— you can talk all you want but —ugh— I am the reason why you’re soaked.” Somehow the way you’re bouncing on his dick it’s not enough to wipe away that smug smirk off his face, and you can’t stand it.
“Just shut the fuck up and enjoy this, will you?” You snap before kissing him roughly, cupping his chin with force before nibbling his lower lip, making him hiss. “I like it when you moan, so please, just fucking moan. The only words I want to hear are my name and begs.”
Your “threat” is effective because he doesn’t dare to open his mouth again.
“Good boy,” you praise without ever stopping to kiss him and moving your hips at a quick but regular speed.
You quickly realize that stress has gotten to you, too. You love to pretend it doesn’t affect you, and that you don’t need to let off steam, but you do. You are desperate to feel carefree for a few moments, put all the books and papers behind and have fun. And worst, you need him.
Donghyuck is what makes you feel good. It doesn’t matter if it’s mostly physical, he takes you to another world every time. He makes you feel wanted, he puts you through the test, but he makes everything worth it.
You’re so sure of it as you let your body crush against his, your fleshes meeting in a messed-up tangle of flaws. The kinds of flaws you both grew close enough to show each other.
In a few minutes, waves of pleasure hit you both and your bodies collapse into each other as you keep lazily riding that sensation; muscles on fire, lips meeting in messy kisses, moans panting the room, and your hands looking for each other.
When you lay on the bed side by side, you feel disconnected, and, truly, the only thing you’d like to do is to close your eyes and fall asleep, but your eyes fall on the clock against the wall and remind you why you went to his place.
“Five minutes and then we’re revisiting again,” you say, knowing the only way to get up is to say that thought out loud.
Donghyuck groans, pressing his face against you and mumbling, “can I eat you out if I make no mistakes this time?”
“We’ll see.”
You’re woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of the piano playing from the living room. The other side of the bed is empty, and the sheets are crumpled up, signalling you Haechan got up somewhere during the night.
You two went on a trip the whole weekend. Not like you had a choice when he passed by your place and told you to get in the car without giving you any information. You got mad at him when he told you it wasn’t a one-day thing, but you were too far from town to even think of going back. And even if initially you were angry because your plans for the weekend were different —studying all day for three days— your anger disappeared quickly.
This is the second night out; you spent the entire day wandering around a town you didn’t even know before and got closer to each other. You love the thrill with him, but you soon realize you also love it when there’s peace between you. It’s impossible for you to don’t bicker, but you learned how to balance everything. And the more you get to know him, the more you like him.
“Can’t sleep?” You ask, watching his features being lit up by the faint moonlight and a small lamp at the side of the piano. It’s an old one, almost left abandoned in the living room of the small, cheap house you’re staying in for the night.
Donghyuck shakes his head. “Got a tune I couldn’t get off my mind so… here we are.”
You smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit next to him. You don’t talk, you only watch his fingers move on the notes looking like ballet dancers. You’ve never seen him play the piano before, you weren’t even sure he could. But you’re amazed at how many things he’s talented at, the guitar, the piano, production, singing, dancing —and making your days less grey.
You don’t tell him, you only lean in, resting your head on his shoulder as he keeps playing the sweet melody.
“It’s…” he huffs, stopping for a second. “Doesn’t it sound messy?”
“Not at all,” you reply. “It sounds upbeat. Happy.”
“Out of all the ways you can describe music,” he chuckles, looking at you.
You look up, shrugging. “I’m describing how it’s making me feel.”
“Yeah? And what does it feel like?”
“Play it again,” you say, closing your eyes and letting the tune lull you. “It feels like spring. Like a field full of sunflowers, the ones you see at the side of the highway, passing by so fast before you can even get lost in their beauty.”
Haechan chuckles, holding back the big smile on his face. “It reminds me of those late summer evenings, when the heat dims a bit and the sky is pale pink and purple and blue, and time is frozen.”
“Yeah, when you’re ten and you don’t want summer to end because it means you have to go back to school,” you smile. “When you would stay out all day and come home with the smell of your favourite cake that your mom just baked.”
“Really? Your mom would bake that too?”
You nod. “Chocolate cake, basic and too messy for the heat of summer. But my mom loves me too much to don’t bake it for me, even if it’s 30° outside.”
Haechan chuckles, and his fingers start moving faster, starting the melody of what could be the chorus of the tune.
“In this part, it feels like a wave. I’m picturing running on the beach as the waves crash at your feet and the wind blows against your face.”
“Why are you smiling?” He asks.
You shake your head. “I — I can… it feels oddly romantic, a bit tormented, maybe confused, but in love,” you whisper. He gives you a weird look, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re not using technical words to describe it or because you’re just weird. But there’s a reason you’re not being technical, you’re saying what it makes you feel, the vivid pictures in your mind. And, somehow, there’s you and him.
You two on the beach, walking on the sand before he starts running, teasing you to follow him. There’s the scent of the sea filling your nostrils and your lungs burning up as you reach him and then fall in his arms and feel your heart explode.
“It’s an unexpected feeling, something that wasn’t supposed to happen and then… changed everything. It’s thrilling. Scary, but satisfying.” You avoid his gaze but hear him hum in agreement, and wonder if he’s thinking the same, if he can feel this tension.
“So, something that sweeps everything like a wave,” he asks, and you nod. “Sunset,” he adds, smiling at you, slowing down the rhythm of his fingers. “I can also see the sunset colouring the scene. The kind that makes you look up and stare in awe like a child.”
“The one we saw yesterday,” you reply shyly. “It made your eyes look even more brown,” you confess, watching his cheeks tint up of rose.
“The kind that leaves you breathless,” he whispers. His fingers are still moving but they’re playing the same notes, he’s too busy staring into your eyes, leaning closer to you.
“And speechless.”
And a bit closer.
“And grateful you’re on earth.”
And closer.
You move back, coughing and lowering your head because you feel on fire. Is he making fun of you? Does he feel this? Why is he so confusing?
“It feels like a road trip with nowhere to go,” you say to fill the silence, and your words make him play again. “The calm while everything outside is falling apart.”
“Like running to your safe place?”
You nod. “It feels like… home.”
He smiles, looking in your direction while his fingers still play that sweet melody. “I always believed home is a person, even people, but not a place.”
You swallow, staring at his lips before your eyes meet his. “I’ve forgotten that feeling quite some time ago,” you whisper, feeling your head spin. You left home and never looked back, eager to chase your dreams, the ones you’ve been fighting hard to achieve since you were a child, but in that marathon to success, you’re starting to realize you lost something.
“You just need to find the right people, and then never let go.” He leans closer to you, hands falling from the piano as he leans in completely to trap your lips in a kiss. His hand cups your face while the other moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and moving his thumb in small circles. You feel like your lungs are on fire, and your legs are weak, but your heart never pumped harder than this. And when he slowly pulls away, you’re staring into each other’s eyes.
You know all the words to your song.
It’s true you’ve tried to avoid Donghyuck’s group of friends as much as you can —mostly to preserve your brain from early injuries— but it’s also true that the end of the second academic year is tearing you apart and you need to do something to don’t go insane.
So here you are, it’s Friday night, at their place, and you’re surrounded. Haechan has left you alone for a moment, busy talking with Mark. Jeno is trying to set up the table in the living room, while Renjun runs after him because ‘things are not perfect enough.’ Yangyang —no, he doesn’t live with them, but for some reason, he is always around— is in the kitchen doing only God knows what.
For your luck, you have Jaemin and the girls by your side. Ningning, who apparently has something going on with Mr Loverboy at your side. Yeri, who is there just to bully Haechan, Mark and Yangyang —an old tradition that goes on since high school, and you love her for that. And Minjeong, who’s the nicest and yet smartest person you know, you are relieved she is in creative writing with Jaemin. You met them all before, one of the thousand times Donghyuck dragged you around with him, and the four of you got along right away, quickly becoming friends.
“They’re so loud, I would have a constant headache living here,” Yeri huffs loudly, rolling her eyes and falling backwards in Ningning’s arms.
You raise a brow as a ‘told you’ moment.
“They’re not that bad usually,” Jaemin defends, looking at his friends, now all too interested in something that regards what they are supposed to eat.
“Pfft, please, Jaem,” you say, glaring at him.
“How would you know?” He says. “Oh, no, yes, actually you would, you’re always here.”
“See, so stop defending them,” you say before becoming aware of the three sets of eyes boring holes into you. You turn around meeting your three friends and lift a brow in a questing look.
“Why would you always be here?” Ningning teases, nudging you.
You roll your eyes. “Don’t wander too far with your brains. I’ve got a project with Hyuck.”
“Hyuck? You used to go around calling him by his stage name just a few months ago and now it’s Hyuck?” Yeri points out, smirking smugly.
You throw a pillow at her. “He’s always attached to my hip, of course, we got closer,” you explain, frowning.
“Sure, sure,” she laughs. “Not even the boys call him Hyuck.”
“They do,” you retort.
“Of course you know, you’re always here,” Minjeong giggles and you gasp.
“You traitor!” You say, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her as you both laugh.
“Move your asses over here, motherfuc—” Yangyang screams before Renjun slaps a hand on his face.
“I will kill you all one day,” Renjun says, storming into the kitchen to bring more drinks as you sit down around the table.
“Please leave us out of it,” Yeri screams loud enough so he can hear.
“Sure, you can even help me get it done if you want to,” he says, sitting between Jeno and Yangyang, handing the bottles around.
“I’m in,” the four of you say simultaneously, raising your hands and they all gasp as they glare at you.
“Guess we better sleep with our eyes open tonight,” Yangyang mutters.
“You should always sleep with one eye open,” Yeri threatens, smiling creepily.
You chuckle at their antics, but your attention is caught by Donghyuck who sits by your side. “Would you kill me?”
You smile, caressing his hand on his thigh. “Honey, what are you saying? You would be the first that has to go.”
The smile on his face drops and you laugh, turning to the table to grab something to eat.
“You know,” he whispers, leaning in so only you can hear, “no dick tonight.”
You lower your head, trying to hide the embarrassment, but then lift it up and shake it, fixing your hair behind your ear, and turning to him. “Not like something could’ve happened tonight anyway.”
“Period?”
“People,” you say and he chuckles, opening a can of beer before taking a sip.
“As if that ever stopped you.”
You roll your eyes, stealing the beer from his hand, “as if that ever stopped you.”
He smiles, resting his head on his palm as he looks at you. “You never said no, though.”
You wave him off, returning your attention to the table, but it doesn’t last much, they’re deep in a heated conversation and you’re missing something. “Why are they bickering… again?”
Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, grabbing a spring roll, dipping it in the soy sauce before taking a bite. You roll your eyes because you need to be updated right away but when you look at him munching happily you can’t hold back a smile.
“So,” he says, cleaning his lips after he swallowed, “Jeno wants Renjun for a project, but Renjun has war traumas of the last time they did a shooting together and doesn’t want to.”
You giggle, grabbing a spring roll too, and dipping it in the same small cup of Donghyuck, while you both pay attention to the conversation.
“But you’re perfect for it,” Jeno insists, shaking Renjun from his shoulders, not caring about the pissed-off expression of the older.
“I’m literally not, ask anybody else but me,” Renjun repeats, a deep crease visible on his forehead.
“But you look like an angel,” Jeno pouts, finally stopping his movements and batting his lashes to gain some pity.
“I might look like an angel, but I feel Satan rising in me every time you talk,” he says, making everybody laugh before he glances, and the room goes quiet.
“Come on, how bad can it be?” Minjeong says, and you see her shift closer to Mark, but you don’t say anything.
Renjun groans, throwing his head back. He can’t believe he might be convinced into this by the end of the night. “He’s too much of a perfectionist, and I’m not comfortable in front of the camera. Also, he’s not rich enough to have a studio and he always takes ages to put the light boxes in their place once he’s done.”
“Oh, I won’t annoy you, I promise,” Jeno begs again.
“We can rent a studio,” you say, all eyes on you. “I mean,” you cough, placing the small bite of the roll left on the plate in front of you, “me and Hyu— Donghyuck have to shoot the cover for the songwriting project, I don’t think we can wait any longer since we also have to record the song and then come up with an advertising strategy.”
“Then rent a studio?” Renjun says, coming out colder than he intends to. “No, wait, I just don’t get why you have to drag me in this.”
“Jeno proposed to be our photographer, but I doubt we can do it at home. And since we wouldn’t be paying for his job. Sorry,” you mouth quickly glancing at Jeno who shrugs and smiles at you. “We can at least put the money for the studio.”
“And where do I fit in this,” he cries, shoulders slumping as he knows there’s no way out of this, no matter what you say next.
“Well, since you pay the studio per hour, I don’t think Jeno will torture you much. He takes two hours with you and two hours with us and in a day, we are done. Also, if there are four of us, we can be quicker,” you finish explaining, hearing some hums of agreement from your other friends.
Jeno doesn’t say a word, he’s only smiling widely with his face close to Renjun’s as the latter regrets all the life choices that brought him here. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he exhales, groaning when Jeno hugs him and screams a cheer in his ear. “Step away before I change my mind,” he warns, slapping Jeno’s arm and glaring at him when he does as told.
Yeri sighs deeply at your side, rolling her eyes and muttering, “children.”
You chuckle, finishing your roll, and stealing Donghyuck’s beer again before talking to him. “So, I guess we’re almost done.”
“Almost done? You still didn’t show me the lyrics, have you even written them?”
“Hey,” you scold. “Are you doubting me?”
“I don’t know, last time I checked, you were the one struggling. I offered you four bases, and all the words I’ve read from you ended up crumpled in the bin.”
You sigh. “I’ve got the song,” you reassure him.
“Really?”
“Yeah, and I also picked the production. I mean, I… I wrote it because of that production.”
Haechan’s smirk widens when you start stuttering and looking away, trying to look unsuspicious in your friends’ eyes. “Really? And why are you shying away?”
You almost jump when you feel his hand on your thigh, resting on your bare skin under the skirt. “I’m not,” you whisper, trying to keep cool.
He snickers. “You know I’ll have to see it and you can’t keep it a secret from me, right?”
“I know, I don’t want it to be a secret. You’ll read it.”
He squeezes your thigh, and you glare at him. “Not now.”
“Right, later, under the cover when we’ll watch a movie,” he jokes.
Yeri coughs beside you and you see your entire life pass in front of your eyes, but you fake nonchalance and turn to her. “Need something? Some water?”
“Some tea, honey, some tea,” she says, raising a brow and pointing at the man at your side, now busy talking with Yangyang.
“I can make some.”
“Stop playing me,” she whispers, sending you a deadly glare. She can be scary at times, you’re not surprised the boys listen to her in the blink of an eye.
“He’s just being stupid, he flirts even with walls,” you say.
“Does he touch their thighs?”
“No, he’s not,” you say, only to gasp when she looks down and his hand is still on you. You push it away but he puts it right where it was and you can only sigh.
Yeri snickers. “Ah, l’amour.”
Your head rolls back as you let out an annoyed sigh. “Love my ass.”
Yeri shrugs, sipping from her small bottle of soju. “Don’t care, there’s still something going on, and I’m interested.”
“I’d love to mock you with somebody but you’re more closed than an unopened can of beans.”
“You are so bad with words. How do you write songs?”
“I don’t write about beans, clearly,” you say seriously before you both laugh.
“You two, mind to share what’s funny with the class?” Ningning calls you out.
“Sorry Professor Ning, we’ll be even more annoying next time,” Yeri retorts.
“Why do I feel you’re quoting something we can’t understand?” Renjun says.
“Because you’re right,” Yeri replies.
“Yesterday Yeri almost got us expelled,” Ningning says with a forced smile on her face, making you all gasp.
“What happened to sharing information?” Mark screams, leaning in with interest.
“Why do you care so much?” Yeri shrugs, grabbing a bowl of tteokbokki to eat.
“Mh, hello? You got your asses out of Uni,” Minjeong says.
Yeri only rolls her eyes, resting her head on Ningning. “If a tteokbokki falls on my clothes you’re dead,” the blonde-haired warns before bringing her gaze to all of you. “In her defense, it wasn’t her fault. Not at the start, at least.”
“No,” Yeri retorts, sitting up straight again, and placing the bowl on the table, “it wasn’t my fault, period.”
“Here she goes again,” Ningning sighs, puffing and shaking her head, making you chuckle. But Yeri is not paying her attention, too busy telling the facts right.
“Professor Choi hates us and treats us like kids. Not only his lessons are boring, and I would like to add, useless, but he also thinks we’re in kindergarten.”
“Did you fight with him?” Jeno questions, frowning, already fearing a positive answer.
Yeri gulps, looking around to take time to answer.
“Oh, God, tell me you didn’t,” you say, staring at her with a worried expression.
“He asked for blood,” she says, getting fired up.
“You fought a Professor?” Jaemin gasps loudly.
“She didn’t,” Ningning intervenes when Yeri is about to open her mouth again. “Just because I was there to babysit her, but she didn’t.”
“I didn’t come here to be treated like a child,” she says, crossing her arms on her chest. “We weren’t even being loud. We were sitting in the back of the class, minding our business and he called us out. There was a group of boys in the middle row watching fucking porn and he called us out.”
“Ew,” it comes out collectively.
“But unless the headphones weren’t connected how would he know?” Yangyang asks.
“I don’t care! He hates us,” she groans.
“So you decided to make him hate you even more? Smart move, Yerim, smart move,” Renjun says sarcastically, and she glares at him.
“I just decided to drag her out when things got a bit heated,” Ningning says.
“Not in a Beyonce way I guess,” Haechan jokes, and Yeri slaps him as you move back to give her space to hit him.
“Hey! Why are you helping her bully me?” He asks offended.
“Cause you deserve it?” You shrug.
Donghyuck looks around in disbelief, groaning when everybody agrees. “Fake ass friends, can’t even trust your own shadow in this group.”
“Back to what matters, safe to say you won’t pass the class,” Renjun says.
“We will, there’s only one lesson left, and we’ll pay attention,” Ningning says and Yeri raises her brows. “We will pay attention. He might hate us, but, you know, a bit of boot-licking and we’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” Yeri gives up. “But only because I don’t want to see him ever again.”
“We once fought so hard we got kicked out,” Haechan confesses, bringing the attention to him.
“You and?” Jeno asks.
“Dumbass, Miss Better than him, thought you heard them bicker every two seconds,” Renjun replies instead, pointing at you with his index finger.
“Hey!” You say. “I mean, thank you for acknowledging I’m better than him but it wasn’t so bad.”
“Oh, trust me, it was,” Mark comments before drinking his beer.
“And you were teaching us a lesson, uh?” Yeri teases, eyebrow raised at you two.
“We didn’t insult the Professor,” you explain. “We were just at each other’s throat.”
“Why?” Minjeong asks.
“Honestly? Can’t remember, we fight about everything,” Donghyuck replies.
“We don’t fight,” you clarify. “We discuss. And sometimes things take a bad turn. Not anymore, we learned how to survive with each other.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” giggles Yeri and you kick her knee with yours, making her groan.
Haechan sends you a look you ignore, and you go on explaining. “We were just stating our thoughts, but we weren’t exactly agreeing, and we couldn’t stop, so the Professor told us to take it somewhere else.”
“And you did? You simply could’ve stopped,” Renjun asks in disbelief. He can’t believe he thought you were normal.
“We had business to settle, okay?” You explain.
“Oh, and we sure did,” Haechan chuckles under his breath or so he thinks because the room goes quiet, and you think you want to strangle him.
You have to come up with something.
“You only won because I gave up,” you say, looking into his eyes, seeing the devilish glint behind, warning him to not say a word more.
“You always give up if there’s a prize you can take,” he clicks his tongue and you gulp.
“Oookay, weird tension in the room, it’s clear the only one not getting laid is me,” Yangyang cheers, bringing you two out of your competitive stare. You’d like to complain, saying it’s not what he thinks about, but you’re still stuck, brain busy thinking about something else.
“This night it’s boring, if we don’t do something funny, I’ll act out my plan of killing you all,” Renjun says, standing up.
“I still don’t know whether you’re joking or not,” Mark says.
“Because I’m not.”
“Caught you!”
“Hyuck!” You scream, turning around, holding a hand over your chest as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulders. “You could’ve killed me.”
“You’re eating cake without me, that’s the crime,” he says, pulling your hand to his face to take a bite.
You roll your eyes. “Jaemin told me he had to store it away because Jeno and Minjeong were eating it all.”
“So, you were hiding, uhm?”
You hum, cutting another piece and diving it in two to give it to him. “He said I could eat it. Also, I think I had too much alcohol and I need to put something in my stomach.” You sit on the countertop and he takes his place between your legs.
“Am I allowed to eat it?”
“I guess so, I’ll take the blame if he says something,” you giggle.
“Don’t think he will notice, too busy dancing with somebody,” he says, hinting at Ningning.
“They look cute together,” you say, smiling fondly.
“Oh, they do. If only he could grow some balls and confess,” he says.
“Do you confess, Casanova?” You tease.
Donghyuck smirks. “How does it look like?”
You shrug. “Don’t know, you tell me.”
He rolls his eyes before he realizes you two are not together. “Wait, are we… no, never mind,” he says, pulling away, and turning to the door.
You grab his hand, stopping him. “What?”
“Jeno called,” he lies, trying to escape your hold.
“No, he didn’t. He’s sitting with Yangyang passing the blunt around,” you jump off the top and face him. “Are we?” You’re not sure what you expect him to say.
Donghyuck gulps, struggling to keep his eyes on you. “Are you fucking somebody else?”
Whatever you were expecting, that wasn’t it. “Are you?”
“I asked you first,” he retorts.
You blink. “Oh, really?
“Yeah, really.”
“Do I look like I know somebody else besides us?”
“Jeno likes you, and he told me you two are texting.”
“As friends, Hyuck. I already told him I’m taken — I’m not, I’m… I’m taken by other things in my mind. Uni, fighting you, especially fighting you.”
Donghyuck snickers, not really what he expected from you, but deep down —not even so deep, truly— what he wanted to hear. “Yeah, I agree, you’re taken, mostly by me.”
You’re about to retort but he slips from your hands too soon, leaving the small kitchen to reach the others. But you’re smiling. It’s a dumb, small smile that lights up your face in the dark of the night, and your heart pumps. You two didn’t name any of this, but —bickering aside— you objectively know you acted like a couple. It’s not about the sex, it’s about everything else. He started to pick you up before lessons so you could go to class together and sit next to each other —while he did everything he could to distract you. You ate at your friends’ table at lunch, went out for dates, and occasionally even slept over. You are taken and probably for longer than you even realise. Donghyuck started filling your days months ago, and even your life.
You’re still caught up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Ningning enter the kitchen.
“I spy with my little eyes something suspicious,” she sings while pouring herself a glass of water, leaning against the countertop where you were before.
“First Yeri, and now you?” You ask, a small smile curling your lips while you walk to lean next to her.
Ningning gasps offended. “She knew before me? Is this how you betray me? After I helped you style your hair?”
You laugh, resting your head on her shoulder, and inhaling deeply; she always smells nice. “I didn’t tell her,” you confess. “Honestly, I don’t even know myself.”
You can’t see her, but you know she’s smiling when her arms wrap around your body.
“So, what is that, love?”
You hum. “I don’t know what it is, but I know I like it.”
“I knew you were a romantic at heart,” she jokes, pulling away to squeeze your cheeks.
“I’m just happy. I don’t think I need to put a name on this… on this happiness.”
A big smile spreads on her face and her eyes crinkle, her hand softly caresses your cheeks. “It’s not only Donghyuck, is it?”
You nod, pressing your lips in a flat line because something about this feels too emotional for you. It’s 11 pm and there’s faint music playing in the living room while people laugh, and joke, sharing a blunt or bottles of alcohol. And you’re in the kitchen talking about a boy you want to kiss and strangle with who, you’re sure, can now consider your best friend. It’s the stupid fun of the early 20s. It’s the sense of something you’ve been missing for too long since you only let yourself be absorbed by your studies, leaving friendship behind.
And when a lonely tear rolls down your eyes, Ningning coos, gently wiping it away. “I’m happy,” you say, nodding.
“I know,” she replies, cupping your face.
“I’ve been on my own since I came here and I never regretted believing in my dreams even if it meant leaving the ones I loved the most behind, but now I realize what I’ve been missing,” you confess. “I love that they’re so loud they give me a headache.” You both chuckle and your hands intertwine. “And I love that we all sit together at lunch even if most of you have to run from the other side of the building. I love how none of you hesitated one moment to consider me part of your group.”
“I’m so happy you’re with us,” she says, smiling. “I guess Donghyuck does something right sometimes.”
You both laugh.
“Yeah, he definitely made my second year less boring than the first one,” you admit.
“Come here, I guess we both could use a hug,” she says, not giving you time to reply before you’re into her arms. You stay like this for a while, and you know more than before that this is what you missed the most. This is what college means. It isn’t in the loud parties, the sex, and the drugs, it’s in the people you do things with. Nine young people like you, trying to survive this craziness by being each other’s strength. You can still look at your goal right in the eye even if you have fun, even if you date, even if you have someone to walk down this road with.
“You know, I knew you were a good one when you slammed your fist on the table at lunch when he made you fuck up the essay,” Ningning confesses when you pull away.
You laugh, wiping away another tear. “I’m glad he did, I wouldn’t be here today if he didn’t.”
“You and Ning disappeared in the kitchen before,” Donghyuck says, searching in his closet to find something to make you wear for the night.
“Yeah, we talked about us. I know I might not show it, but I’m glad I found this,” you sigh. “I like them.”
Donghyuck smiles, sitting next to you. “They all like you just as much.”
“It’s like I finally have a place where I belong. I have people to rely on, so maybe I’ll learn to stop wanting to deal with everything by myself.”
“I told you life doesn’t have to be lonely,” he says. “I know that coming from me sounded like sabotage but I meant it. Having someone by your side makes everything easier.”
You smile and nod, grabbing the shirt he’s handing you. “I hate to say it, but you were right,” you chuckle. He doesn’t reply and you don’t drag the conversation, simply enjoying the thousands of words you two should be telling each other, but are not ready to face, yet.
“Can I use the bathroom? I need to freshen up a bit,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Most of the others are crushed in the living room, you think you saw Ningning sneak into Jaemin’s room but you were too caught up in Donghyuck to be sure of that, Renjun and Jeno might still be awake but you’re sure that all the weed they smoked won’t make them pay attention to you.
“Sure, if you need towels they’re in the cabinet under the sink,” he tells you, and soon you’re out of the room.
It doesn’t take you long to clean yourself up; you wash your face and steal someone’s products to get rid of your make-up, quickly get rid of your dress, put on some perfume —you’re pretty sure it’s Donghyuck’s cause you smell like him— and then wear the shirt he borrowed.
Once you’re done, you quickly make your way to the kitchen, and, passing in the living room, you see your assumptions are right; there’s no sight of the two love birds, and the only ones awake are Renjun, Jeno and Yeri, while the others are crushed on the sofa. You expect a remark from the girl, but she barely notices you, too busy playing —trying to— something with the other two.
After a few minutes, you’re back in Donghyuck’s room, and you notice he’s changed into something comfortable, too. He’s lost folding his clothes, and you let yourself get lost in his beauty. Too busy fighting him and trying to prove something, you realize you never noticed the smallest details that make him so handsome. The bridge of his nose, his soft lips, the moles on his cheek, his soft brown hair falling around his face.
“You alright?” His voice brings you out of your daydreams and you nod shyly, feeling embarrassed for being caught staring.
“Yeah, everything fine,” you reply, quickly walking to the bed. You see him staring at you with a confused expression, but avoid any awkward moment by reaching for your phone and pretending to be busy. But you’re not busy, you’re confused. You’re not used to this, any of this. Your nights have always been filled with yourself and books (whether for school or your entertainment), and if you felt wilder a movie, rare were the occasions when you would go out with your friends. And regret is creeping on your back. You feel like you lost a lot, you feel like you’ve punished yourself to get where you are now. And you think about love, how you treated your relationships, how little weight you gave them. And when you think about what you felt in these past months you wonder if you have ever even been in love.
“Remind me to never make you drink again if you get this sulky.” Once again, Donghyuck’s voice brings you back to earth, and when you turn toward that sound, you see he’s sitting next to you.
“I’m not sulky,” you chuckle. “I was just thinking about what I said before.”
He hums. “And?”
You shrug. “Nothing. You can’t change the past, I was just… having some bittersweet emotions.” It’s the truth, but you know that deep down your brain is trying to make you focus on the friendships because you don’t want to think about your biggest problem: the man you have by your side. This wasn’t supposed to be whatever it is. It wasn’t supposed to happen. And you don’t hate that it did, but you don’t know how to feel and act about it, cause you didn’t plan it. You couldn’t study this, you couldn’t put this on a PowerPoint and have it all laid out for you to understand it, it’s not logical, it’s not a theory, a study, a thesis, it’s emotion.
“You seemed happy before,” he whispers after a few minutes of silence passed. His hand gently rests on your stomach and you feel your heart race.
“I was,” you reply. “I am. I just wish I found this sooner, I always focused on my studies and career, and looking back at it now, it was lonely. And…” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “I’m jealous of you, ‘cause you managed to be at the top with all of this.”
He chuckles, but it’s a tender sound, and then smiles at you. “Well… I managed until you came around. You…” he coughs, struggling to confess, “you distracted me a bit, so I think you’re better than me at this socializing and rocking your career at the same time thing.”
You laugh. “I distracted you?”
“Just a bit, don’t get too excited,” he warns, falling deeper into the mattress and laying in silence. You have your thoughts tormenting you, but for him, it’s no different. He knows his plan failed. You’ve been filling his thoughts, days and seconds for a few months now. Even when he was studying or recording, somehow, you were always there. At first, for spite, surely, but then, it turned into something else. Hate turned into teasing, teasing turned into lust, and lust turned into something more. He knows he doesn’t just simply want you or need you. He craves you and your company, your study sessions together, your smart talks, your witty words, your annoyed eye-roll when he’s right, and the soft eyes when you listen to him. He craves you and your laugh, the suppressed one during lessons and the loud one when you are alone, or your hidden smirk when he makes you smile even if you don’t want to.
He constantly comes back to you.
“Are you listening or are you avoiding me?” You ask when he doesn’t reply to your question and he shakes his head, mumbling an apology.
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
You chuckle. “It’s alright, it was a bitter question anyway.”
“No come on, ask me again.”
“It was just for fun. I wanted to know if I was the reason why you’ve been doing a bit worst than me lately,” you say. There’s no mockery in your tone, instead it’s light and hides a timid blush as the words roll down your tongue.
Donghyuck’s body shuffles next to yours and only then you realize how intimately close you are, with your legs almost intertwined, his hand still on your stomach and his face resting on your chest. “Well, yes, you were an unexpected presence in my life, so…”
“So…?” You laugh. “Am I so hot I got you horny all the time?” You joke but he doesn’t crack a smile, instead he furrows and stands up to sit on the bed with his arms crossed.
“I’m not that horny,” he murmurs.
Your body mirrors his, and then your hands lift his chin up. “Sorry, I was kidding. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t think you thought about me that much. I wanted to be on top but not like this.”
“Technically, you’re not on top of everything, but anyway, we just spent a lot of time together, you know? So different studying methods and so on, shocked me a bit.”
You raise a brow, not because you’re so pretentious to think you distracted him that much, but because you think you learned to read him a bit and he’s not being honest at all. “Sure, and you weren’t busy thinking of me after our… dates? Coming home and texting me, and telling me how you should’ve been between my thighs instead?”
He blushes, and you can’t believe your eyes. “It only happened once, and either way I never study at night, my pretty brain can’t handle it.”
You laugh. “Your brain is pretty, now?”
“Yeah, of course, everything about me is pretty.” He shrugs.
“You’re a bit of a liar, you know? First telling me I distracted you and then taking it back, but it’s alright, I think we settled this war. We’re equal now, right?”
“I guess you could say that.”
You huff rolling your eyes. “You’re so competitive, God.” You fall on the mattress again. “But maybe it’s good, we can keep this healthy and competitive.”
He hums, thinking about it and then nods. But you don’t expect him to cage you with his body as he sits on top of you and reduces the distance between you. “Doesn’t sound bad, we could try.”
You smile, trying to act nonchalantly, but it’s hard when he’s so close; hair a mess, face tired but still so fucking handsome, and plump lips so temptingly close to yours.
“I want you,” you whisper, looking straight into his eyes even if they make your knees buckle.
“I want you, too,” he replies before diving in and kissing you.
The last weeks before finals are hectic. You and Donghyuck spend all the time studying together. When you’re not locked in the library you’re either at your or his place, and most of the time you end up sleeping over with the excuse of “spending just a few minutes together without thinking about exams.”
Yet, none of you confess anything. Your relationship lingers in that limbo.
In all that chaos, what takes you more time is the songwriting project. You spend days in the studio to record and mix it. Then when you are done, you move to the studio with Jeno to shoot the concept photos. And it would been enough for the exam, but you and Donghyuck just have to go an extra mile, making an entire booklet with the photos and the lyrics inside, the physical CD with the track, the instrumental, and an acapella version.
Even if the shooting is long and tiring, since you have to style and do each other’s make-up, and the only help is from Renjun, you have a lot of fun.
If at the start you feel a bit insecure with the poses, Donghyuck is the perfect partner to have to feel at ease. And Jeno knows how to do his job, making you feel like a queen after the first awkward shots.
“I love how the photos turned out,” Jeno cheers happily on your way to their place. “The three of you are the perfect models. I will annoy you again to build my portfolio.”
Renjun rolls his eyes as his head slams against the bus window.
You chuckle. “Come on, Jun,” you say, pinching his cheek. “You had fun too, you can’t deny that. Also, you got so many beautiful photos for free, I wouldn’t complain.”
“Free? I’d like to remind you I helped you pay for the rent,” he retorts, sitting straight again. “But yeah, I had fun,” he admits, making Jeno clap happily. “But, I will do this again only if she comes with us.”
Jeno bats his eyes at you and you snicker. “Yes, if I am what he needs to be dragged into the studio, I will come with you.”
“I love you,” Jeno screams, hugging you tight. When you hug him back, you make eye contact with Donghyuck, but he swiftly turns his head. Not quick enough to hide he’s not enjoying this so much; jaw tense, fingers closing in a fist.
You find his jealousy of Jeno quite interesting. Even if it’s true you got very close to him, it’s hilarious how Donghyuck thinks anything would happen between you two when Jeno is clearly taken by someone else; someone too busy plotting his murder to realize his feelings, but that’s another matter.
And Donghyuck shows his jealousy even more when, once at home, you sit around the table to watch Jeno post-produce the photos and create the mock-up for the entire project with your supervision.
His arm wraps around your shoulder as he keeps his leg pressed against yours, and you have to hold back a chuckle. Yes, it’s obvious there’s nothing between you and Jeno, but this makes you feel wanted, and you let him show it.
You know you’ll have to deal with other menaces tomorrow; a hangout is already scheduled in the group chat with the girls after a quick text sent right away by Yeri. You love her, you do, but without that, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have four other pairs of eyes set on you — Jaemin and Yangyang are very curious when they want to.
“Are you listening?” Jeno’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.
You blink twice and then mumble, “what?”
He shakes his head. “Do you like the font?”
“Oh,” you whisper. Your eyes adjust again on the screen that you were mindlessly staring at and focus on the project. “Yeah, I love it.”
“We were thinking of not putting our name on it since it’s more trendy lately,” Donghyuck says.
You nod. “Yeah, I think it’s better like this. I also love the picture, I think it would be more powerful without the name on it but we’re not that famous, yet,” you joke making them laugh.
“That’s why I didn’t make it too big, so the focus would be on you two.”
“Love it, that's perfect,” you praise. “Honestly, seeing it all almost done, I feel guilty for not giving you anything.”
Jeno shrugs. “It’s alright. I’m having fun doing this and can put it in my portfolio anyway. I did much worse and less fun for some courses.”
“We will offer you a dinner,” Donghyuck says. “Somewhere cheap, though.”
After a few hours, everything is almost done. Jeno still wants to double-check everything tomorrow before sending it to be printed but the final results won’t differ much.
“So, I think we should celebrate the project that brought you two so close,” Ningning says, winking at the last words, before raising an empty cup.
You chuckle, trying to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but it’s still firm on you. “It’s just a Uni project, there's nothing to celebrate.”
“Well, mine and Mark’s is not that good,” Yangyang snorts. “I don’t understand why you two always want to do so much extra work but whatever makes you happy.”
“We love the song,” Donghyuck replies. “And we’re proud of it so we might as well fool ourselves it might get more than 30 listens on SoundCloud.”
“For me,” Ningning says, “this is huge. One day you’ll be famous and we will get to say we were here from the start, so we need to treat ourselves and party.”
“Yes, let’s treat ourselves to the cheapest pizza on the block. Oh, how I love being an adult,” Yeri huffs, slumping on the couch. “No, but really, this is something to celebrate.” She then moves closer to you so that only you can hear. “And maybe if we get you drunk enough we’ll get juicy info before tomorrow.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Fine, order these pizzas and let’s celebrate.”
The girls don’t get you drunk enough to spill anything but get themselves drunk enough that Jaemin has to drive them back to their place. Truthfully there’s nothing to say anyway. You and Donghyuck still didn’t talk, you didn’t even have sex lately. Too busy with everything, that was the last of your thoughts. But you did sleep together and basically lived in symbiosis. So?
You should feel happy about this project. Academically it will be another success, and honestly, one of your best works so far. So why do you feel this emptiness in your chest now that you’re sitting on a chair in Donghyuck’s bedroom?
This is the end. Now nothing holds you two together, and you fear that what you built over these months might not be strong enough for you to still hang out with you. You wonder if this meant anything to him. Sure, he likes you, but how much? Sex means nothing, and even if said between the lines, he got you to try out romantic things to make you come up with the song. And he succeeded. You have the song, the lyrics you tried so hard to put down. Fake dates, fake flirts, fake everything, but everything you put down is real. And it’s terrifying.
So absorbed by your torments, you don’t see Donghyuck stare at you, standing in front of you changed into fresh clothes.
“Hey.” His voice makes you flinch in surprise and quickly look up at him. There’s a frown on his face. “What’s with that face?”
You shrug, diverting the eye contact.
“Are you not happy with the result?” Donghyuck asks, grabbing the closest chair so he can sit right in front of you.
“No, I love it. I loved everything so much and that’s why I’m sad.” There are many reasons why, and you’re not a master at dealing with too many emotions at once. Subjects? Books? Essays? Projects? They can fall and pile up on you and you won’t feel the weight of it. But real life? Feelings? Not where you excel.
“Cause you won’t have any excuses to spend time with me and see me?” He teases, chuckling. He’s still the same person you met one year ago but behind his playful voice and acts there’s something tender, at least you like to see it this way.
“Uhm, I hope we will keep seeing each other,” you confess shyly, doing everything in your power to not meet his warm gaze. His hands on his lap are a beautiful view now. “But no…”
His teasing smirk turns apprehensive. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You shrug. This should be the easy thing to confess. A bit humiliating considering showing some weakness to him still feels like letting your mortal enemy pour salt in your open wounds, but you’re hiding more vulnerable things from him.
“Nothing but… I was so sure I didn’t want to be a singer, and I was more and more sure of working in Pr, and now… I don’t know. I loved writing the song, like I always do, but this time felt different, as if… that’s what I’m supposed to do in my life, you know?” You look up because even if you can’t take a mocking look you have to see his reaction.
He smiles, caressing your cheek. “I think you’re good at it so yeah, you should.”
You’re taken aback by that reply. Deep down you wanted him to shred your dreams cause you feel like all of this is insane, and if you have nobody supporting you maybe you won’t indulge in it. But it’s clear that Donghyuck is not an enemy anymore and has your back now.
“Yeah but… I loved singing and doing it with you. Being in the studio, recording, but even before when we were working on the melody and everything. And working on the concept? We did all that with just one song, can you imagine what working on an album feels like?”
He smiles and nods. “Well, yeah, I fantasized about it a lot, so yes. But why is it a problem? Why can’t you pick this as a career?”
You can see in his eyes that he’s confused. Not by your change of path, but by your sudden insecurity. Deep down you’re shocked by that too. You have changed goals a few times in your academic career but somehow this feels so different.
“Cause it’s rare to make it,” you mutter, nervously playing with your hands. Truth is, the chances of failure are so big, and you’re not sure you could take it. You and your perfectionism and your need to succeed on the first try.
“Can’t say you’re wrong, it’s hell out there, but… you’re good, and beautiful, and I’m sure that with your songwriting skills and your voice, someone will notice you.”
He had tried to make a name for himself longer than you, he knows it. During some vulnerable night conversation where you showed him your songs, he told you how many demos he had sent, and how hard he tried to build something at least on the socials. So you don’t care if his words are driven by sympathy, he could discourage you, but instead, he’s supportive, and that’s all you need.
“And what am I without your production? Will you be my Jack Antonoff?”
Donghyuck laughs. “I’d prefer to be your Aaron Dessner.”
“Yeah, fine. I like that Haechan,” you say, highlighting that name that now sounds foreign.
“I don’t want to hear that name roll from your lips anymore,” he chuckles and you hum laughing.
“Talking about lyrics,” he says after a few seconds, the phrase lingers in the air… “this song was interesting.”
“Interesting? What do you mean? Is it bad?” Your eyes widen and the anxiety that left you jumps at you again.
He shakes his head. “I said interesting, not bad. You should know the difference.”
“It’s not funny, interesting means nothing.”
He chuckles. “Some phrases are interesting… that’s it. They look familiar.”
You feel your body burn up in flames and you have to shift your gaze from him. You should’ve scrapped that, he isn’t dumb. (You believed he was up until two seconds ago, but apparently, he was just waiting for the right moment to trap you.)
“I wonder if something, or someone,” he winks, “inspired you.”
“The sea. When we went there together. The sea inspired me,” you whisper swiftly, nervously biting the inside of your cheek. “That’s why I called it wave.”
Donghyuck laughs. “I’m not talking about the title, and you know it,” he says, resting his hand on your knee. “Flow that I’ve never felt before? Meeting you through distinctive distraction is a miracle?”
“You told me you liked it,” you say, playing innocent.
He rolls his eyes. “I do. I love it, actually. I just wanted to analyse it with you.”
You gulp when his fingers start rubbing on your skin. “We should’ve done it before recording it, don’t you think?”
He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I want to do it now. I think I already know who inspired you.”
“The sea —”
“Drop it,” he retorts sternly, squeezing your knee. “I think our plan worked. Well, unless you found someone else who inspired you to write a love song.”
“It’s barely a love song,” you stutter, body heating up.
“Right, some lyrics felt sexy,” he giggles. “You’re such a master in holding me here and there and going up and up down and down again.”
You try to scoot away, but he blocks you by putting his feet under the leg of the chair. “So what? Also, you’re dirty-minded, that’s not what it means…”
He snickers, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Why are you so flustered then?”
“Cause you’re too close to me, I can barely breathe.”
“Mhh… it reminds me of something.”
You roll your head back and mutter a curse under your breath. “Isn’t it what you wanted? To inspire me? I did it. I romanticized everything and we got the song.”
“Romantized everything,” he hums. “In this wave called you that’s pushing in, I fall in love. You are the center of my heart. Feeling new, feel now. The wave that started because of you, babe. Dive into the world called you. Damn, your creativity is so good, you are talented.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No, I…” he sighs annoyed. “If you wrote it down in a song, why can’t you say it to my face?”
You gulp. “I have nothing to tell you.”
He raises a brow. “So you’re still confused. Should I satisfy you to hear you say it?”
You hide your face in your hands and groan. “Fine,” you snap. “I — I wrote that about you. And I, God, this is humiliating. You heard the song, you sang it. Do you want me to say it out loud? Was that not enough?”
Donghyuck smiles, and, for a moment, you fear he will break into a mocking laugh, but instead, his smile gets bigger. “Yes, I knew it,” he screams.
“Oh… of course it’s funny to you, maybe this is what you wanted all along, make me fall in love and then make fun of me.”
“Fall in love?” He whispers, stopping in his tracks to look at you, and only then you realise you said it loud and clear. And it’s worse than saying it in a song. “You love me seriously? Like it’s not just attraction and maybe liking me?”
You feel like choking up on tears but try not to show it. “So you can laugh at me more?”
“Why would I laugh at you? I just want to know if what you feel is real,” he replies, and somehow he sounds even more annoyed than before.
You hum and nod, no words can leave your mouth.
“Did you really think I would use this against you? Don’t you trust me?”
“I — I… I don’t know, okay? I do, but also, this was… this was all fake, just to write that song and now it’s real. And it was never supposed to be real, and maybe you never wanted me, cause I’m not your type and you hated me and we both wanted this to be over and now I feel like I can barely breathe without you, and I know that in the song I said I would’ve left the decision in your hands but the idea of you not wanting me back makes me sick and I —”
Your words fall into a void as he kisses you with no hesitation. Hands cupping your wet face and holding the back of your neck to keep you close.
“You’re so fucking stupid. So, so smart and yet such an idiot when it comes to feelings,” he chuckles when he pulls away. “You said I was an unexpected thing that completely changed your flow but do you have any idea of what you were to me? You ruined my second year,” he confesses, and your face quickly shifts into a worried expression, but he clears your doubts right away.
“I thought I could beat you, I thought I could have the upper hand and… you messed up my days and nights. I thought you couldn’t fill up so much of my time when I already had so many friends but, fuck, I was wrong. And instead of distracting you, I let you distract me.”
“But I — I didn’t plan it, I didn’t want to —”
His thumb shushes you as his eyes crease in a smile. “You didn’t do anything, I just miscalculated. I didn’t know the amazing person you are, and let jealousy consume me before love took its place without me even noticing.”
You almost gasp. “Love? So, you do love me back?”
He nods. “Strong word, I know. But goddam, you were ten times cheesier in the song.”
You laugh and he does the same.
“But I am hurt, though. I can’t believe you thought I was playing you.”
“What were the chances you were going to fall for me, too? Nobody ever falls for me.”
“Good thing you only needed me to fall for you,” he says, kissing you. “So… did you fall for me at the beach?”
“I was confused back then. I knew I felt something but I didn’t know what it was. I thought it was only attraction, but at the same time, I felt like I needed you, you know?”
“And to think I wasn’t even sure of taking you there,” he giggles.
“Really?”
He nods. “I wanted to study, I already felt like I was falling behind and I thought I could use those three days to catch up, but then you crossed my mind and I forgot about the rest.”
You look down to hide the big smile on your face. No, you’re not happy you almost made him fail his second year in this war, but you love knowing how much he cares about you. The old Donghyuck would’ve never confessed this, he would’ve never shown how weak you make him. But now he’s proudly telling you how you genuinely occupied his thoughts.
“I know I didn’t show signs of failure, but you did succeed in your plan just a bit.”
He snorts. “Don’t need fools gold.”
“No, I’m serious. I mean, maybe you’re right, you didn’t, but I think you succeeded in something better. You showed me I can achieve my academic goals and still live life. You showed me so much. I had fun on my own, and I loved it, but I also only had myself and nobody to count on, and that sucks.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Yes you did, you pushed me out of my comfort zone and trust me, I did panic sometimes. I just hide it better. But you gave me the chance to meet seven amazing people allowing me in your friend’s group. Some of you have known each other for so long, that’s probably when I should’ve put my heart at ease and realised you truly cared about me.”
“You fail to understand how likeable you are. Everybody loves you, you just don’t pay them attention.”
You shrug. He’s probably right. You never cared about that, but you won’t start caring about it now. You found your people, you found your place.
Staying at his place for the night is tempting, but, truth be told, you two want to be on your own on your first night as lovers. So, with the excuse of wanting to eat an ice cream (not an excuse, you will eat ice cream), you slip out of the place.
The others don’t care. Honestly, it’s clear that everyone except you two was expecting this ending, but you will deal with this tomorrow at lunch with the girls. For now, you chuckle at Jeno’s wink before he rests his head on Renjun’s shoulder again, who barely waves goodbye before going back to the movie they’re watching. Mark seems to be the only one confused at the way your arms are linked when you walk through the living room, but you’re sure that Yangyang, who has a teasing smirk on his face, will fill him in as soon as you’re out of the door. Jaemin will sneak at the girls’ hang-out tomorrow, his face lets it all known.
“I love this place,” Donghyuck says when you enter your apartment.
“Really? This hole?” You chuckle, leaving your bag at the door and getting rid of your shoes.
He nods. “It’s cosy and quiet, and I get to have you all to myself.” Before he finishes the phrases he pulls you in his hold, almost making you lose your balance and you scold him.
“Can you be less clumsy?”
“Mhh... no.”
“Also, it’s not like not being alone ever stopped you from being the clingiest man on earth.”
He huffs, throwing his head back as he slowly starts walking backwards to reach the bed. “As if you don’t like it.”
“You got us many suspicious looks,” you complain.
“Girl, everybody knew about us,” he says, falling on the bed with you. “I fear they were betting on a situationship but well, we didn’t do anything to keep this on the low.”
You shrug. “Whatever,” you say, caressing his face to move the hair on his eyes. “I don’t care. Tonight I just want to think about us.”
“Now you’re talking,” he hums happily. “Can I get a chocolate-less kiss?”
You laugh. “You can get all the kisses you want.”
Your lips connect to his to start a sweet kiss that lasts for a while. You never truly pull away as your hands start moving on each other to get rid of the clothes and leave you half-naked on the bed.
“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs, rolling around so your back is on the mattress before he starts going down. His fingers hook with the band of your panties and pull them down. “A bush?”
You huff. “I was just a bit busy, and didn’t have time to shave.”
“Good. I hope you don’t find time to do it ever again,” he says making you laugh.
“You like it?” You ask.
“I love it,” he replies.
You don’t have time to react because his lips are on you as soon as he's done talking. Your hips buck up and you fail to hold back the moans.
Donghyuck takes his sweet time, licking up stripes to get you wet before he starts sucking on your hardening clit.
Your head rolls back against the pillow and your hands can’t help but tangle in his hair to pull him closer. The groan of pleasure that comes out of his mouth at your gesture makes you tremble.
“So fucking sweet for me,” he mumbles against you. “My sweet girl.”
A dumb grin curls your lips and your eyes try to open to get a glimpse of him. You regret that action cause his pretty face smashed against you as he eats you out as if you're his last meal sends shivers straight to your core.
“Please,” you whimper, making him open his eyes to stare at you. Your throat tightens and you feel like you might pass out from that, but still force yourself to finish the phrase. “Don’t stop, you’re so good. I — I never felt like this.”
He grins, pulling away only to reply. “Yeah? Am I that good?”
You groan. He’s still so competitive and always has to prove a point. But you don’t care. That’s fun. That’s what you love about him. “Yes, you’re that good. Just please, keep doing it.”
“Never planned of stopping.”
When his mouth starts moving on you again you see stars. Your neck falls behind, enjoy the softness of the pillow, and you stop trying to keep it together, moaning loudly and chanting his name.
His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you close to his mouth. And each flick of his tongue pushes the climax closer, making you see stars.
Your breath gets messier as you hit your peak and pleasure takes over your body as you let go to that blissful sensation running inside you.
You’re still gasping for air when you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, slowly entering you.
“Hyuck, what are you—?”
“I want you to be ready for me,” he says. “I won't make you come another time, I promise. Just getting you wetter.”
You mumble a sound that makes no sense before you decide to relax and enjoy the sensation. It’s not like you would ever complain about his fingers, you simply don’t want to be too sensitive already. But he’s true to his words, his two fingers fuck into you, curling up right on your sweet spot, turning you on more and coating them white.
“Always so good for me,” he praises when he pulls out, sucking them harshly before he leans in to kiss you. Your hands wrap in his hair as you pull him closer, letting your legs wrap around his waist to pull him down. “Damn, calm down,” he chuckles close to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know, but I want you close.”
Donghyuck smiles. “Unhook your legs for a moment and I’ll be as close as possible.”
Reluctantly, you do as ordered, knowing that as soon as he’ll slip in, your legs will be exactly in the same place.
You barely pay attention when he does, too focused on the gentle kisses he's leaving on the crown of your head, cheeks and neck. Your eyes only open when he bottoms in and brings your legs around himself.
“Happy now?” He asks, brushing behind a few strands of hair that fell on your face.
“More than happy,” you reply smiling. Your body moves on its own when your hips buck up against him, eliciting a deep moan to slip past his lips.
That’s the sign he needs to know he can start moving. One hand places on your waist to keep you in place and the other supports his body as he starts dragging his hips out.
You can feel your heart skip a beat when he leans down and hides in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “You always smell so good, that’s what tricked me to always be close to you,” he mumbles, nibbling your skin.
You chuckle, shaking your head. Even now he has something to say. Still, his words don’t distract him from his actions. With each stroke, he hits deep inside of you, hitting sensitive spots that make your toes curl and your fingers close into fists on the sheets.
After finding the perfect angle, Donghyuck starts speeding up, his thrusts not harsh but fast enough to build up a steady rhythm. And, with each one, you feel a wave of pleasure invading you.
“Come here,” you whisper, cupping his face to pull him close. “Wanna kiss you.” Your lips are on his right away and you both let go to a long passionate kiss as the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. One hand leaves his face to run on his back, feeling his muscles flex.
Your moans get louder with every passing second but they end up muffled in the messy kiss you’re still sharing.
When his hand sneaks between your bodies, so he can touch your clit in quick circular motions, you know you won’t last much longer. Your walls clench hard around him, and more wetness coats him as your hips buck up for more friction. And the last drop comes from his lips, leaving yours to wrap around your sensitive nipples.
“Hyuck,” your voice trembles as you call for him. Pleading eyes looking up at him. You should say something sex-related, maybe praise how good he’s making you feel, or how close you are, but even if those are the thoughts on the tip of your tongue, the words that come out are completely different. “I love you,” you whisper in a hush, feeling the weight disappear from your chest. Saying it clearly is like finally coming to the real realization.
Donghyuck smiles, kissing you repeatedly on the lips. “I love you, too.”
And soon after, you both reach your peak. The pleasure shoots through your bodies like fireworks in the sky.
You stay like that for a few minutes, kissing each other as you wait for your bodies to calm down.
When he slips out of you gently, putting his shirt under your body to avoid a mess, you still have a dumb, but content, smile on your face.
You don’t have the energy to move, so you lay there as you watch him move around to grab new clothes and two glasses of water. Just the time to pull yourself together, and you’re once again under the bedsheets, cuddled up against each other. You relax at the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on the back of your neck and let his heartbeat be a sweet melody.
Mamma Mia is playing on the TV, but none of you has much energy to sing along to ABBA’s songs —he has a bit more than you as he hums the words.
When he chuckles, you look up at him.
“What’s so funny?” You ask, staring at the tv with a frown on your face. The SOS scene not being exactly one of the funniest one.
“I was thinking about us,” he says.
“I do hope we won’t end up like this.”
“Yeah, no, but you ended up being my Waterloo, I guess,” he whispers, looking at you. And then you get it, remembering when he sang it to you.
“I told you,” you reply, making him gasp offended. “What? You expected me to say something nice? You mocked me, you bragged and I cursed you with eternal love for me.”
Donghyuck laughs and then wraps his arms around you to pull you flatter against him, resting his chin on your head.
“You know this doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to beat you, right?” He chuckles, but when you lift your gaze, getting a glimpse of him, you see his serious expression. And you hope he's true to his intention and that that spark set by your ambition will never die.
You smile smugly before relaxing against his warm embrace. “Yeah, but we’ll see if I’ll let you.”
YEARS LATER
“Is everything alright? Why are you looking at us like this?” You ask, shifting on your seat on the couch, looking at the girl in front of you.
“Is it true?”
“What?” Donghyuck says.
“Is it true that you two couldn’t stand each other?” She says, big brown eyes staring at you with curiosity.
You quirk a brow, giving your full attention to your daughter. “Why this sudden question?”
“Cause it’s embarrassing to see tweets of people going insane over you two, but also I think it’s unfair how these strangers seem to know more about my parents than me.”
You and Donghyuck laugh. “And what do they say?"
She rolls her eyes. “That they can’t believe you hated each other and that you started dating her to distract her but ended up falling for her?”
You look at each other smirking before a tender, nostalgic smile takes its place.
“Would it be so terrible?” He asks, tilting his head.
She thinks about it for a moment and then replies. “It would be a bit embarrassing for you, Dad. But also... cute. So?”
“I’d say it’s true,” he replies, shrugging.
“Wait, so you really started dating because you hated each other?” She screams, sitting straight on the loveseat, leaning toward you with her body.
You chuckle. “We didn’t hate each other. We believed we could outdo the other. And your father did too much, as always.”
“You were miserable before me,” Donghyuck replies, tightening his hold around your waist. “I had a plan, and it would’ve worked.”
You roll your eyes. “Imagine thinking you could make me fall in love and not fall in love with me,” you say to your daughter. “I was a real heartbreaker back then.”
“You still are,” she replies, smiling. “My friends go insane every time they realize who my parents are.”
Your daughter never brags about being your child. The famous singer, producer, and dancer Haechan, and you, who had a good launch as a singer before you realized that wasn’t your world and decided to stick to be a choreographer and PR manager (well, mostly Donghyuck’s choreographer and his manager). But everyone close to her knows who she is, and it’s not easy to act nonchalantly about it.
She has heard many stories about you two. The gossip about your story running wild since you broke into the industry. But you never sat down and explained it to her, not until now.
“We still have our charm,” Donghyuck laughs.
“I think the most important thing is your love and that you might be the best parents in the world. But I’m saying it officially only if you don’t turn it into a race.”
“Us? Turning something into a competition? We would never,” Donghyuck jokes.
She rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. And you can’t help but smile thinking how similar to your husband she looks right now.
“Honey, forgive us. How do you think we’re still having so much fun after all these years? That’s how we thrive, we learned how to push each other healthily.”
“Yeah, fine, I’m glad your love story is still perfect, but seriously, no competition when it comes to me. I love you both so much.”
“Come here,” you say, patting the space in front of you on the couch. Hugging her when she sits down between you two. “You are the only thing we won’t turn into a competition.”
Donghyuck hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around you two. “We both won with you.”
general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo
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GymRat!Miguel Part 5
content warning: very fluffy, PDA ➡️ something in which the reader is shy about and Miguel is hungry for, Miguel’s bday is 10/13 here, it gets suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, George O’Hara is NOT abusive in this story and he will be Mexican here idc idc idc, some mentions of food (deer meat at one point), some of the gym photos are white men (my deepest apologies, I just want y’all to have an idea of the pose 😔)
word count: 4.3k (just nod and smile. she's thicc like me😗)
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
GymRat!Miguel who learns your schedule front to back. He’s always there to walk you to your classes and carry your heavy bags and purses. Sometimes he’ll meet you outside of your dorm, sometimes you’ll send him your location and he’ll come running. Now, you both walk into the lab building hand in hand and leave the building swinging hands. You used to despise those lovey-dovey couples who were stuck in their own world, but now you could understand them completely. They were still a little annoying, though.
GymRat!Miguel who makes a habit of sending you post workout pictures in the early mornings. His go-to poses are the worm’s eye under-chest, the standing mirror, the bench mirror, and the back mirror. The last one was specific to his dorm bathroom, too shy to take his shirt completely off. Your thorough praises made him feel warm, but sometimes you let more silly things slip.
“You could probably choke me with your thighs and I’d be thankful”
“Baby don’t say that. :(( I would never hurt you”
“Oh so you can want me to sit and lay on you but I can’t ask for the same? Wow. The double standards”
“That’s not fair. You should sit on me. I can take it and I want it. Thoroughly.”
“Oh! So you’re saying I’m not strong enough. Got it.”
“Baby I never said that!”
“Whatever Miguel 🙄”
“ㅜㅜ”
“You never answered me though. Will you sit on me?”
“Go get ready for class 😒”
“😞”
GymRat!Miguel who tells you that his birthday is coming up at the last minute possible. You berate him for telling you so late and kick yourself for not asking sooner, but you still manage to get a reservation at one of the fancy local restaurants.
You pull out all of the stops you could. A gift card from Smoothie King, a pair of slippers to match yours, the newest Final Fantasy game, and a muscle bunny keychain to match your muscle bear keychain. He was your big teddy bear, after all.
You handed him the gifts after the staff brought out a chocolate cake with sparklers on it while singing at the top of their lungs. The chocolate syrup read “Happy Birthday Miguel 🤎” around the plate.
Miguel’s smile got bigger as he took the gifts out one by one. He paused when he got to the cards: one a birthday card and the other a thick “open when…” manilla envelope.
The birthday card was simple and sweet. It was the other stuff you were worried about. You found these cute ideas about letters and notes to leave for your significant other. You had one for anger, sadness, needing a hug, sickness, boredom, and even one for wanting a kiss. You remember Jess walking in on you with your lips smashed against the cardstock, trying to get a bunch of kiss marks to cut out. She just sighed out a “young love” and carried on to her side of the room.
“It’s only been a short time since we’ve been dating, but Thanksgiving and Christmas break are coming up so I wanted to leave you with something for when you can’t reach me.”
Your heart is thumping as Miguel takes the cards out, reading their envelopes.
What you don’t expect is for Miguel to start crying.
You startle a bit, scared that the gift is awful, but he lets out a watery thank you, flustered from everything.
You quickly make your way to his side of the table and hug him. You wipe at his eyes and chuckle at his cuteness, telling him you were afraid he didn’t like it.
He shakes his head, breathes deep and slow to calm his emotions.
“No, I will definitely be using all of these. I really appreciate this. Everything. I’m not sure how you were able to do all of this, but I’m thankful that you did.”
You couldn’t take it. Here he was with dewey eyes and red tinting his cheeks. It was cuteness overload.
You face him towards you and lean forward, connecting his lips to yours.
GymRat!Miguel who stares at you stunned when you lean back. That was your first kiss with him. His first kiss with you and he was sitting here with his cheeks damp and nose sniffling away.
“I-” his heart picks up and he’s opening and closing his mouth. He was short circuiting.
“Can we- I mean if it’s ok, can we do that again?” Miguel stutters out.
You simply nod your head and lean in again, this time tilting your head.
The cards in Miguel’s hands drop to the table and his breathing stops. Your lips were soft and full. Another fraction of his dreams that were nothing compared to the real thing.
He could only hear his heartbeat and the soft jazz music in the restaurant when he let up for air.
This was definitely the best gift of the night.
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed when the waiter comes and asks if you two need anything while he’s leaning down for another kiss.
He just got to kiss his dream girl. Who cares if the waiter saw him kiss you some more?
You jump when the waiter’s hands come close to you two as he picks up an empty dinner plate. You look to the waiter awkwardly to apologize and ask for the check.
This just makes Miguel want to pull you in his lap and kiss you as the entire staff goes by.
GymRat!Miguel who wants you to feed him bites of his cake. You happily agree, especially since he was the birthday boy. His eyes never leave you the whole time.
GymRat!Miguel who grabs the check before you can pick it up. He doesn’t want you to pay for the meal.
“Miguel, it’s your birthday. I picked the restaurant and reserved the seats,” you say a little whiney.
“But I want to pay for the dinner,” Miguel pouts as he holds the check out of your reach.
When he got like this, it was hard to change his mind.
“If you let me pay, I’ll give you another kiss.”
“Just one?” Miguel brings the check back to your level, squinting at you.
You sigh, “I’ll give you ten.”
“Deal.”
Miguel gives you the check with a giddy smile and you slap your card on it.
The kisses still don’t stop him from taking over the tip.
So stubborn.
GymRat!Miguel who texts Gabriel once he’s back in his dorm. He sends pictures of everything from the food to the cake to the gifts.
“Look at what my baby did for me 🤪”
“The same one you left at the party even tho you blew up my phone about her for weeks? 😕”
“Yes…I didn’t do it on purpose. Me and her talked about it already”
“jk jk it wasn’t your fault”
“No way she got you final fantasy. Dana barely got me a cupcake”
“This just proves that my gf is better”
“Tbf tho you and Dana are still in high school”
“Ohhhh my god. You turn one more year older than me and all of a sudden you have the wisdom of a sage. SHUT UP 😭”
“I’ll literally be in college next year”
“AND ANYWAY you’ve never shown me this so-called gf. How do Ik you haven’t gone insane?”
Miguel clicked the back of his teeth in annoyance. Peter walked by him with his eyebrow raised and Miguel just waved his hand.
He sent a picture he took of you from tonight. You looked amazing in that dress and your eyes were beautiful and deep. You were smiling at him from across the table.
“First you try to steal Dana from me and now you get her”
“It’s crazy how this world is so anti-Gabriel”
“What are you yapping about”
“And I didn’t take ANYTHING from you 🫵🏽”
“We were 6 and 7 and you couldn’t push her hard enough on the swings. When will you get over that?”
“It burns all the same”
“You should give me her number and I can let you experience that feeling”
“Gabriel.”
“Show her what a real O’Hara is like”
“Cabrón”
“You’re so lucky I’m not next to you right now”
“THE BIG C WORD?”
“I’m telling mom you called me that btw”
“All because I wanted to meet your gf ☹️”
“Bastard”
“I’M TELLING MOM YOU CALLED ME THAT! WTF?”
It wasn’t long before Miguel’s mom was calling his phone to berate him. He pressed the green button, air pushing out of his nose as his mom’s face filled up the screen.
Peter looked bug eyed as Conchata’s rapid fire words filled the room.
“Ma! That’s so not fair! Gabri called me a bastard!”
There was a quick pause as his mom made a face that he knew all too well. Miguel heard Gabriel yelp as a sandal made a loud impact with his skin.
Miguel heard Gabriel cry out as his mom took off her other shoe, ready to aim, “MIGUEL HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”
Miguel just threw his phone on the bed and groaned. He could hear Peter snickering from his desk.
“What girlfriend? Miguel! Where are you? Come back and answer me,” Conchata’s voice got louder and louder. “I can’t believe you two! You would think this distance meant that you two wouldn’t fight like you’re still sleeping in the same room.”
“We’re not fighting,” Gabriel said. He smirks as he gets in the camera next to his mom. “Miguel is still hiding things from you, though.”
Miguel picked the phone up again with a frown on his face. Gabriel just stuck his tongue out like the brat he was.
“Mijo, what’s going on?” his mom asked, concern in her voice. “First, it was the party and now this. Do you need to come home?”
“No, ma,” Miguel sighed. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine now. Great even.”
“Then why haven’t you told me about this girlfriend of yours?”
“We just started dating. It’s still very new,” Miguel chose his words carefully. Ever since his second seamster in high school, she’s been super sensitive towards him and his feelings. Knowing her, she might give you a hard time. He didn’t want that for you just yet. “I didn’t want to introduce you to her until we were more solid.”
“I think a girl that helps to organize the take down of a sorority in your honor is pretty solid,” Gabriel comments off camera.
“She did that?!” Conchata stares at Miguel with furrowed brows.
Miguel only nods, lips wound in a tight line.
“Oh well, mijo, I have to meet this girl!”
“I don’t think-”
“Let me know when she’s free to come home with you! Maybe over Thanksgiving?”
“Ma, she has her own family-”
“Ok I have to go now! I have to catch my shows. Call me more often or I’ll have to come up there!”
The room fell silent as the call ended and Miguel was met with his messages with Gabriel again.
“CHECKMATE!”
Miguel still wanted to throttle him.
GymRat!Miguel who’s super excited when Halloween comes and you want to wear couple costumes. He hasn’t done costumes since early middle school. Growing up meant realizing that some people your age want to grow up. Fast. No one wanted to dress up in silly costumes anymore or go trick-or-treating. Sure, the scary stories were fun but at that age, he wanted to eat candy all night, not teepee houses and run in the woods.
He’s hanging out on his bed chatting with Mary Jane and Peter while you get ready in the bathroom. The theater and art department collaborated together to host a costume party. This time, Miguel wouldn’t leave your side. Maybe if you had to pee, he would consider waiting awkwardly by the door. He didn’t want the same mistake to happen.
The two of you decide to go as Starfire and Nightwing grouping up with MJ and Peter who dress up as Raven and Beast Boy for a Teen Titans theme.
The costume is pretty tight but he has to admit, it looks great on his build.
You walk out of the bathroom with a cheery “I’m ready!”
It’s definitely not ideal that his suit is so tight.
The skirt is hugging your body in every which way. The cut-outs at your hips had his fingers twitching. To top it off, the diamond cut out for your chest left him internally screaming.
Peter whistled from his desk and MJ hollered about how good you looked. You smiled bashfully, doing a 360.
Miguel wanted to shove MJ and Peter out of the room to reenact what Starfire and Nightwing actually got up to when they were by themselves.
You walk up to him and flip your flaming hair back playfully.
“Do you like it?” you ask, peering up at him.
“I think he more than likes it,” Peter mumbles out in a stage whisper. MJ elbows him softly in the stomach.
Miguel spins you around, “Fuck yeah.”
Your laugh falls out of you, surprised at his curt reaction.
“Honestly, you two can go ahead to the party and we’ll just hang out here,” Miguel said, face as serious as ever as he wrapped himself around you from behind.
“No, no, no! You can do whatever you want after the party. Keep it in, buddy,” Peter says as he starts to guide everyone to the door.
Miguel keeps himself attached to you all night.
GymRat!Miguel who helps you bring your things to your car for Thanksgiving break. It’ll only be a week but he feels like he might not make it.
“You’ll see me again next Sunday, Miggy” you say to him as he’s bent over you with the biggest pout out ever.
“I’m still gonna miss you,” Miguel leans further with his forehead on yours. “Wish you could come with me.”
“Maybe over the winter break we can plan a time to meet outside of school.”
Miguel just sighs dramatically.
You decide to say fuck it and kiss him in the middle of the almost empty parking garage.
Miguel doesn’t let up now that you’ve given him an inch. He’s holding you by your hips, your face, your waist, anything to get closer. He moans a bit into your mouth as you open up.
You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper, “I really have to get on the road now, baby. And so do you.”
Miguel slumps as he guides you to your driver’s seat. You roll the window down and pucker your lips for another kiss.
Miguel obliges easily and asks, “Call me when you get there?”
“Of course,” you say.
He stands and watches you drive off, missing you already.
GymRat!Miguel who is almost knocked down when he opens the door to his home. Gabriel is wrapped around him like a koala, squeezing away.
Miguel laughs and rubs his back, relieved that he’s not heavy enough to knock him over.
“It’s good to see you too, Gabri,” Miguel laughs.
Conchata peaks around the corner and almost cries at the sight.
“My boys!” She coos while coming to the door. “George! Come help Miguel with his bags!”
Miguel waddles in with Gabriel still clinging to him. He’s glad to be home.
GymRat!Miguel who gets your call in the middle of Gabriel watching him play Final Fantasy. He pauses the game and runs to his room, Gabriel yelling at him to come back and unpause the game.
You tell that you made it home and that you’ll call him later.
You blow a kiss at the screen and he catches it with glee before you end the call.
Miguel is glad you left before Gabriel opens his door like that one big bird meme.
“Was that her?” he asks, voice excited. “Is she still on the phone?”
“Yes. No. Why are you eavesdropping like a creep?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping! It just dawned on me a little too late that you left to go talk to her.”
“Whatever,” Miguel groaned. “Let’s just get back to the game.”
“You know you can’t hide her from me forever, right?” Gabriel says, skipping next to Miguel.
“I’m not trying to. But you being a weirdo will make me want to.”
Conchata passes by them with a laundry basket on her hip, “Who’s hiding something?”
“Nobody!” Both Miguel and Gabriel shout in her direction and run back to their game.
Conchata rolls her eyes and continues to her bedroom.
GymRat!Miguel who becomes overwhelmed on Thanksgiving Day. It’s as if every close and distant relative was here. The first floor was full of people. As much as Miguel puts on, he’s never been an much of an extrovert.
He’s up in his room taking a breather. He pulls out one of the cards you gifted him. The one for when he missed your kisses.
He opens and pulls out a letter. There’s instructions on it.
“Each shade is for a different feeling!”
There was a cute chibi doodle of you kissing him on the cheeks at the bottom of the letter. He saw that there was a shade for nervousness/being overwhelmed.
He pulls out a polaroid of you and opens the bag of glossy paper kisses. He flips one and it reads, “Breathe slow and steady 10 times. Kiss me when you’re done.”
He does as you say and brings the paper to his lips. It even smells like you. Sweet. Fruity.
He smiles to himself and takes out one more.
GymRat!Miguel who finally lets Gabriel talk to you on Friday.
“He can be a bit annoying. I’m warning you now,” Miguel says.
“Don’t say that, Miggy. He’s your brother! He’s allowed to bother you at least a little. ”
Miguel yells for Gabriel to come in and he’s running to snatch Miguel’s phone.
“Hi! My name is Gabriel, the better O’Hara. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
“Oh my gosh,” Miguel watches as you gasp. “It’s like another Miguel!”
Miguel snickers as Gabriel groans loudly in annoyance.
“I don’t look like him. He looks like me!” Gabriel pouts.
“Well, you both sport that same O’Hara pout.”
Gabriel and you chat for a long time. Miguel had to cut the conversation short when Gabriel started to tell embarrassing stories from their childhood.
“Alright, you’re done,” Miguel says and snatches the phone back.
“Aw, but we were just getting to the good stuff!”
“Yeah!” you say. “I wanna know how you messed up the science lab in middle school!”
“Nuh uh, Gabri is running his mouth too much. Get out.”
“I can’t wait to see you in person!” Gabriel shouts as Miguel pushes him towards the door. “You can meet my girlfriend too! She’ll love you!”
“I can’t wait,” you say, laughing as Miguel struggles to detach Gabriel’s fingers from the doorway.
GymRat!Miguel who talks to you on the phone until you fall asleep. You look adorable as you’re blissful to the outside world. Your cheek is squished on your pillow.
He has the urge to bite it like it’s mochi.
“Buenas noches, mi amor,” he whispers before he closes his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of your breaths.
He didn’t know that you were still partially awake to hear him.
GymRat!Miguel who picks you up and spins you around after the break. You squeal in shock, surprised that he could pick you up in the first place.
“Baby, I lift much heavier weights at the gym. This is nothing,” Miguel stares at you as if you have two heads when you comment on it.
You’re in a daydream the rest of the day because of that fact.
GymRat!Miguel who joins you on your late study nights in the library closer to finals. You two always sit at one of the tables hidden by the giant bookshelves.
It was nice and cozy. Quiet and roomy.
It was also a great place to makeout.
Every time you got a set of flashcards memorized, Miguel would pull you in his lap and devour you with kisses. It was a great motivation and a welcomed distraction.
It always ended up getting a little too heated and Miguel would have to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.
Sometimes you would feel so delirious that you wanted him to stay so you could crawl under the table and take care of his problems for him.
That was definitely the multiple late nights talking.
GymRat!Miguel who is super bummed out by the time Christmas break starts because you two can’t find a proper time to meet.
You have to visit several other family member’s houses and his biological dad wants his family to join him and his family at some ski resort before the week of Christmas.
George O’Hara was not turning down a free vacation.
You told him to cheer up and enjoy the snow and jacuzzis. Miguel couldn’t help but to think that the jacuzzi would be better with you on top of him in it.
And when Gabriel annoys him, he didn’t mind all that much because that was his baby brother whom he loves dearly. It was when Kron, his step-brother, would run his mouth that Miguel would seriously get annoyed.
He’s been competing with Miguel ever since he caught on to the fact that his dad had a secret love child.
Right now though, he was pissing Miguel off.
First, it was fighting Miguel over a snowboard. Then, it was taking the last elk burger and not even finishing it. Next, trying to knock him off balance right as he got off of the ski lift.
It was as if he was 8 and not 20.
His final straw was when he was being a dick towards Gabriel. All Gabriel was trying to do was bring them together and Kron cursed at him.
Even Miguel doesn’t tell Gabriel to fuck off.
“What is up with you? Don’t cuss at him. He didn’t do anything to you,” Miguel unlocks himself from his snowboard, ready to leave.
“It’s ok, Migs,” Gabriel held his hand out, knowing how this could end.
“No it’s not. He’s been nothing but a dickhead to you, to us, this entire trip. I’m sick of it. Go be annoying somewhere else, Kron.”
“Dad,” Miguel shouts out. Both George and Tyler looked over at him in concern. Miguel didn’t feel like directing himself towards a specific person. “I’m going to the room, I’ll be back down for dinner.”
Tyler wanted to run after him. George was eyeing Tyler for even reacting to Miguel’s cries. Nancy and Conchata just stood in confusion.
“He, uh, he probably just needs a breather. Maybe he’ll talk to his girlfriend!” Gabriel said trying to lighten the mood.
“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? I didn’t hear about any girlfriend,” Tyler says, saddened that he was being left out.
“Shit,” Gabriel mumbled to himself.
“You don’t live in our home, Tyler. Of course you don’t know,” George says, a bit peeved.
“What George means to say is that it’s all new. Fresh! Even I haven’t met the girl,” Conchata slides in matter of factly.
“Tyler should know her, being that she was the one who emailed him with our son’s case,” George grumbled out.
Tyler turned to Gabriel, “Jessica?”
“Uh, no.”
Tyler then says your name with a fondness. As if he knew you like an old friend. “She was quite compelling with her words!”
“So the two of you know of her and I still don’t even know what she looks like. I never thought this day would come,” Conchata held her gloved hand over her forehead like she was about to faint.
“Why don’t we host a small dinner next year? We can get to know her that way,” Nancy chimes in.
“Guys, I really don’t think that’s necessary-”
“Nonsense, Gabriel. If this girl was willing to do something so brave for Miguel we have to meet her,” Tyler grips Gabriel’s shoulder tight. A grip that could rival his brother’s.
“That’s a great idea, Tyler! Nice co-parenting move!” Conchata holds her fist out for him to bump. He does it proudly and they walk towards one of the cabins while Nancy follows behind, discussing dinner ideas.
George only scoffs and stomps off to his room mirroring Miguel’s mannerisms.
Gabriel was screwed once Miguel finds out.
GymRat!Miguel who waits until Christmas night in his bedroom to open the gift you sent to him. He smiles at your cute message and unfolds the paper to so much. It’s a Spider-man lego mask, a customized hoodie with a doodle of you and him, two picture frames with the two of you from his birthday dinner and the Halloween party, and some polaroids that you warned him to look at by himself later.
His breath shuttered as he took him in. They were all of you in your dorm room. They started off innocent. You were smiling, laughing, staring at the camera. Then they got a little more explicit.
You had on a tank top with no bra. Your cleavage was on display. Some showed your entire body on the bed. Some showed your torso and hips, curvy and full.
Miguel felt faint.
His final straw was the last picture in the stack. It was a picture of you from behind, “Merry Christmas XX” written in cursive across the top. You had on briefs but your ass was still readable, peaking out from the bottom. There was an arch in your back as you looked over your shoulder seductively. What a tease.
You were going to send him to an early grave. And who took these pictures?
All Miguel remembers was shuddering, hips lifting off the bed as he held one of pictures high. He had to bite his shirt as to not startle the entire house.
After he cleans up, he spreads the pictures across his bare chest and clicks a photo with a lazy yet satisfied smile.
You respond back with voice memos, so happy that he loved his gift. You also send some sounding a bit needy.
Miguel calls you and talks with you all night.
This Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.
dividers by: @plutism 🩵
a/n: This one was really fun to write!! I dove deep into my lover girl brain for this. Like full on immersing myself into the reader’s position. I hope you enjoyed! 🩵
As always likes and reblogs are super appreciated. PLEASE COMMENT OMG. 😭 Let me know how you feel or I get nervous 😭😭😭!
taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm
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