#(since i was the newcomer there for college)

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent/grief

[hoshifighting]

Racer!Reader x Racer!Mingyu 一 Rivals to Lovers

Synospsis: Racer!Mingyu, the new kid, is determined to beat you in the college underground race. Does he have the guts to defeat you, his senior, the reigning queen of the racing scene? Before the race starts, a photo of your boyfriend cheating on you is spread to the students. When you look up from your phone, there's Mingyu with his piercing eyes. [...]

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” Mingyu teased, leaning against the doorframe.

WC: 8k

Warnings: Cheating, illegal racing, rumors, smut, angst, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), squirt, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, body fluids (cum), kinda of rage make out?, chocking, spanking, dirty talk, sex pic and etc.

Mingyu. A name that had once been just a murmur in the shadows of the racing world is now on everyone's lips. This new kid, this prodigy, decided to go against the grain, to take on the best and make a name for himself. 

And somehow, you're the one he's set his sights on. The competition is obvious, like the electricity in the air before a storm, and the entire college is buzzed with bets. It's impossible to ignore the excitement at the thought of the race tonight. It's been too long since you've felt this alive.

The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline is already in your nose, a scent that brings back a flood of memories. The first time you felt the wind rush past you on two wheels, the rush of adrenaline when you crossed the finish line ahead of the pack. 

The races had been your escape, your way to prove to the world that you were more than just another face in the crowd. 

And now, as you lace up your boots and slip into your worn-in leather jacket, you know that this race will be different. It's not just about the thrill anymore. It's about pride, about maintaining your title, about showing Mingyu that he's bitten off more than he can chew.

The stakes are higher than ever before. You can feel it in the way Mark's eyes darken every time he looks at you, in the way he clenches his fists when Mingyu's name is mentioned.

As you swing your leg over your bike and rev the engine, you push those thoughts aside. Tonight, there's only one thing that matters: the race, the roar of the engines, and the taste of victory.

Mingyu's eyes sparkle inside his helmet, the gleaming visor reflecting the neon lights of the college parking lot that's been transformed into a makeshift race track. He's young, fearless, and he's got something to prove. 

You've watched him from afar, studied his technique, his daring moves that have earned him the title of 'the rookie to watch'. He's good, really good, but he's never raced against someone like you. You're the old war-horse in this game, a veteran who's seen it all and done it all. 

And now, the moment has arrived.

The girl in the quadriculed flag raises it high, her arm muscles taut with excitement. You and Mingyu lock eyes for a brief second, a silent promise of a fierce battle to come. And then, with a nod from her, you both speed off into the night. Your bike responds to your touch like a well-trained steed, the engine purring as you lean into the first turn.

But this is your turf, and you're not about to let some newcomer take your crown without a fight.

As the race extends, the wind whips through your hair, and the roar of the engines fills your ears. The world around you is a blur of lights and shadows, the only thing clear being the track ahead and the figure of Mingyu on your tail. 

You push harder, feeling the bike protest under your command, but she holds steady. You're the lead, with Mingyu playing the role of the eager suitor, eager to overtake. You can't help but smile beneath your helmet. It's been so long since someone's made you feel this alive. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, and you're going to enjoy every second of it.

As you cross the finish line, you pull a dramatic wheelie, the tires screeching and smoking against the asphalt. You circle around, revving the engine, feeling the power beneath you, and as you come to a stop, Mingyu pulls up beside you. 

You both remove your helmets, and the chilly night air kisses your sweat-drenched skin. His eyes are on you, focused and intense, drinking in the sight of you. Your hair is a wild mess around your face, the wind from the race playing with it like it's alive.

You swing your leg over the bike, the leather of your pants hugging your thighs tightly. You stand there, arms crossed over your chest, looking at him. He's tall, with a muscular build that's clear even through his bulky racing gear. His face is a mask of determination, and there's something about the way he carries himself that makes you want to knock him down a peg.

"So, what's your name, kid?" you ask, your voice carrying over the din of the engines.

Mingyu's face cracks into a smirk, and he extends his hand towards you. "Mingyu. Kim Mingyu," he says, his voice deep and sure. But you don't take the bait. You keep your arms crossed, your eyes locked on his.

His smirk falters a little when you ignore his outstretched hand, and he slowly lowers it. 

The crowd around you goes quiet, watching this silent exchange like it's a scene from a movie. They know the history, the tension, and the unspoken challenge that's just been laid down.

"Well, you must know me," you say, the leather jacket creaks as you tighten your grip. 

"I know of you," he says, his language tinged with a hint of an accent. "But I'm not here to bow down to reputations. I'm here to make my own." You can't help but respect that.

The crowd around you is hushed, waiting for the next move. Mark is there, his eyes on you, a silent question in his gaze. You give him a nod, reassuring him that you're okay, that you're in control.

 The rivalry between you and Mingyu has only just started, and it's going to be one hell of a race.

Mark storms over, eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell are you two talking about for so long?" His voice cuts through the cheers of the crowd, drawing their attention. You feel the tension between him and Mingyu, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

Mingyu just watches him with that sly grin, clearly enjoying the show. His gaze flickers over you, lingering on your leather pants, and you feel a shiver of annoyance and something else you can't quite name.

"Hey, Mark," you say, trying to keep your tone light, but there's an edge to it. "Calm down. We were just talking."

"Talking? That's what you're calling it?" Mark's voice is loud, drawing even more eyes to your little drama. He turns to Mingyu, his face red. "And what are you looking at?"

You roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Mark, walk."

He stares at you, eyes wide in disbelief. "What?"

"Yeah, walk," you repeat, your voice firm. "Just go cool off."

For a moment, it looks like he might argue, but then he glances at Mingyu, who’s still smirking, clearly enjoying the spectacle. With a huff, Mark turns on his heel and stalks off, the crowd parting to let him through.

Mingyu chuckles, a low sound that only you can hear. "What an obedient boyfriend you have."

You shoot him a look, half warning, half curiosity. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He raises his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. "Just calling it like I see it. But seriously," his tone shifts, becoming more sincere, "you were amazing out there."

"Thanks," you say, the word coming out more curt than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension from Mark's outburst. "So, why did you want to race me, really?"

Mingyu’s expression becomes thoughtful, the cocky façade slipping just a little. "Because I wanted to see if the rumors were true. And now, I know they are."

You can't help but smile at that, feeling a rush of pride. "Well, you gave me a good run for my money."

"Next time," he says, his voice low and filled with promise, "I'll be the one crossing the finish line first."

"We'll see about that," you reply, walking out with your motorcycle by your side, glancing at him over your shoulder. 

[...]

Mingyu, the new kid, had something different, something that pushed your limits in a way no other rival had before. It was exhilarating, but also stressful. And your boyfriend’s incessant comments about Mingyu didn’t help.

Every time he brought up how Mingyu looked at you, how rude he was, how he thought he was the most incredible thing, you rolled your eyes. Mark’s jealousy was nothing new, but you’d never seen him so uncomfortable around someone before.

For the past month, you’d heard from other students that Mingyu had been spreading rumors about how he was going to win this race, no matter what. It was irritating, but also a challenge you couldn’t ignore.

As you were heading to your P.E. class, you saw Mingyu and his friend walking down the hallway. He spotted you immediately, a grin spreading across his face.

"Look who's here, Y/N... without the leather jacket?" His eyes roved over your tight gymnastic clothing, clearly enjoying the sight.

You smiled around the scrunchie you held between your teeth as you tidied up your hair, then pulled it free to tie it up. "Look who’s here, Mingyu... still talking big?" you teased back, not missing a beat.

He laughed, a rich sound that echoed down the hall. "Only because I’ve got the skills to back it up."

"Oh, really?" you said, raising an eyebrow. "All I’ve seen so far is a lot of talk."

"Maybe you just haven’t been paying close enough attention," he replied, leaning casually against the lockers. "I’ll make sure to give you a front-row seat next time."

You finished tying your hair and gave him a mock look of concern. "I’d hate to see you disappoint all those fans you’ve been bragging to."

He smirked, undeterred. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered. You might want to start thinking about a new title because that crown is coming my way."

"Big words for someone who hasn't beaten me yet," you shot back, stepping closer, your confidence unwavering.

"We'll see about that," he said, his voice low and filled with promise. His eyes held yours for a moment longer, the air between you crackling with tension.

Mingyu doesn't look the least bit afraid of you, of your reputation, of what you can do on this track. He's bold, maybe even a little cocky, and you can't decide if you like it or if it just makes you want to wipe that smug look off his face. 

You've always been the one everyone looks up to, the one they whisper about in the halls. But now, there's someone new, someone who doesn't seem to know his place. And that's what makes him so intriguing.

You know Mingyu will be back, and he'll be better next time. And you can tell your boyfriend, Mark, is not happy about this new rivalry一about the way Mingyu makes you feel alive again.

"You've got to get your head out of the clouds, Y/N," Mark says as you look to the ceiling, "This isn't just a game anymore."

You pull back, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Mingyu," he says, his voice tight with anger, "he's different. He's not like the others."

You roll your eyes, trying to play it off. "He's just a freshman with a fast bike," you say.

"He's been watching you," Mark says, his eyes searching yours, "studying you. He's got a vendetta, and I don't like it."

You swallow hard, pushing the thought away. You can't let Mingyu get under your skin like this. "I've got this," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Mark's not convinced. He's noticed the way your mind has been elsewhere, the way you've been pushing him away. The way you've been turning down his advances, lost in thought about the new kid on the block. He's been frustrated for a few weeks, trying to get you to focus on anything other than the race. 

As the days pass, the tension between you and Mark grows thicker. He tries to initiate sex, but your mind is always elsewhere, replaying the race, thinking about Mingyu's next move. You know you're hurting him, but you can't seem to stop.

 The thought of Mingyu, of the way he looked at you, of the way he talked about winning, it's like a drug. And you're hooked.

The next day, you're in the garage, wrench in hand, making some final adjustments to your bike. You've always been meticulous, but with Mingyu on your mind, you're even more so. You can't have anything going wrong on your bike when you face him again.

The door to the garage opens, and you look up, expecting it to be Mark, but instead, it's Mingyu. He struts in, his leather jacket and bike helmet hanging casually from his hand.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I see you're still playing with your toy."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to hide your annoyance. "What do you want?" you ask, not looking up from your work.

"Just thought I'd come by and say congrats," he says, leaning against the workbench. "You put on a good show last night."

You raced a senior from your class last night. You won despite the slippery concrete caused by the rain. Again.

You slam the wrench down, the sound echoing in the empty garage. "Thanks, but I'm not looking for your approval," you reply, your voice icy.

Mingyu laughs, a sound that grates on your nerves. "You don't have to be so defensive," he says, his eyes scanning the garage, "I just wanted to talk shop, maybe pick up some tips from the queen herself."

You stand up, wiping your hands on your greasy rag. "What makes you think I'd share anything with you?"

He shrugs, his smile never wavering. "Call it a peace offering," he says, holding out his hand. "Truce?"

You stare at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. You know you need to keep your enemies closer, especially one as talented as Mingyu. You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Fine," you say, "but don't get any ideas."

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief, "but I'll save them for the track."

You can't help but laugh, despite yourself. He's got nerve, you'll give him that. You spend the next hour talking bikes and racing strategies, and for the first time since the race, you feel like you're not just a competitor but a fellow enthusiast. It's strange.

As Mingyu leaves, you can't help but feel a blend of emotions. There's the excitement of the challenge he represents, the thrill of the rivalry that's been ignited. But there's also a nagging doubt, a fear that maybe Mark is right. 

Maybe Mingyu isn't just a racer looking to make a name for himself. Maybe he's got something more planned, something that could threaten not just your title but your relationship. 

You shake the thought off, telling yourself you're just being paranoid. After all, it's just a race, right?

[...]

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the makeshift circuit that’s been built for tonight's race. You take a long sip of your Gatorade, savoring the cool taste as you mentally prepare yourself for the competition. The grandstand is buzzing with energy, students excitedly chattering about the upcoming event.

As you sit there, focusing on your breathing, Mingyu appears and casually sits down next to you. You chuckle, unable to help yourself. "Are you following me, kid?"

He rolls his eyes, a familiar gesture by now. "I’m not a kid."

"But I’m your senior," you counter, grinning at the way his face sours. He’s always so easy to tease. "What did you plan?"

"Huh?" He seems genuinely confused, his attention now fully on you.

You smirk, leaning back a bit. "What do you have up your sleeve, Mingyu? Some oil on the floor, a pin in my tire...?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "I don’t need tricks to beat you."

"Good," you say, your voice dropping slightly, more serious now. "Because neither do I."

Before the conversation can go any further, your boyfriend, Mark, appears. "What’s he doing here?" he asks, his tone accusatory.

"Just talking," you reply, trying to keep your cool.

"Talking, huh?" Mark scoffs. "Seems like he’s always around, doesn’t it? You’d think he’s got nothing better to do."

"I think you’re overreacting." You breath tired. 

Mark's eyes narrow. "Just remember who’s waiting for you at the finish line."

Mingyu’s jaw tightens at this, his posture stiffening. He looks like he’s holding back something, a secret or a truth he’s not ready to share.

You glance at Mingyu, noticing the shift in his conduct. "What’s that look for?" you ask him, curious despite yourself.

He shakes his head, the tension in his body evident. "Nothing. Just focus on the race."

You button your jacket, feeling the familiar weight of the leather settle around your shoulders. Checking your shoelaces, you make sure they’re tight, ready for the race ahead. The buzz of your phone breaks the moment, a single notification lighting up the screen. You glance around, noticing other students doing the same, pulling their phones from their pockets.

It’s odd, almost synchronized.

The feeling in your gut is like a rock, weighing you down, making it harder to breathe. You glance around, noticing the smirks and knowing looks from the other racers, the whispers that seem to carry on the wind. 

You click on it, and your heart sinks like a stone. It's a picture of Mark, your Mark, kissing a girl. A girl with auburn hair and a laugh that's nothing like yours. And he's wearing the shirt you gave him just this week, the one with the funny racing pun on the back. The same shirt he wore to bed last night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You stand there, frozen, as the world carries on around you. The cheers of the crowd, the roar of the bikes—it’s all just background noise now. You look up and see everyone watching you, their expressions a combination of pity and shock. They all know now. They've all seen it.

And as your eyes meet Mingyu's, you realize that he knows too. There's something in his gaze, a glint of satisfaction that makes your blood boil. Did he do this? Did he send this to you? The thought is like a knife twisting in your gut, but you can’t be sure.

With trembling hands, you slip the phone back into your pocket, trying to compose yourself. You don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. But as you button your jacket and tighten the laces of your boots, you can’t help but feel like you’re tying up the loose ends of your life. 

Everything’s changed in the span of a single message. Your heart is racing, but it’s not from the thrill of the chase anymore. It stems from the agony of disloyalty and the rage at being played for a fool.

And as you turn to face Mark, who’s pushing his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for yours, you know that the real race has only just begun.

Your breath comes in shudders as you hop on your bike, putting on your helmet. You’ve give all the signs that you are going to race tonight. The crowd is abuzz with anticipation, their eyes locked on you. 

You roll the bike's accelerator, the roar calling for attention so the race can start. The flag girl gulps, her nervousness evident, and you look over your shoulder to see Mingyu approaching.

The girl stretches the flag, and you brace yourself. The lights go out, and suddenly, you're off, the wind in your hair, the roar of the engines filling your ears. Mingyu is right beside you. You can feel the bike responding to your every move, the tires gripping the asphalt like a vice. 

Inside your helmet, your breathing is loud and ragged, a stark reminder of the adrenaline and anger coursing through you.

As you race, your thoughts race too. Mingyu planned everything. He sat by your side to watch you unravel from Mark's jealous crisis, and then those messages minutes before the race start—meant to destabilize you. It’s like a puzzle clicking into place, each piece revealing the depth of his strategy.

The bike protests but holds steady as you apply more pressure. The track is a blur, but your focus is razor-sharp. Mingyu is still there, matching your speed, but you’re not going to let him win.

You replay the moment when you first saw the message, the image of Mark kissing another girl. It stings, but it also sets you aflame. How dare he think he can break you? How dare he underestimate you? You’re not just racing against Mingyu; you’re racing against the doubts and whispers.

Mingyu pulls ahead slightly, his bike edging past yours. You grit your teeth, leaning forward to reduce drag, pushing your bike to its limits. The sound of the engines is loud, the wind whipping past you. 

You glance at Mingyu. He thinks he won, that his plan worked. But he doesn’t know you. 

You see the final stretch approaching, the finish line within sight. You dig deep, finding that last reserve of strength. You and Mingyu are neck and neck, the crowd’s cheers blending into a single roar. The world narrows to just this moment, just this race.

As you cross the finish line, you throw all your weight into one last burst of speed. You cross the line a split second before Mingyu, the crowd exploding into cheers.

You slow down, the realization of your win sinking in. You did it. Despite everything, you did it. But still, there is no taste of victory in your mouth.

The cheers fade as you lean forward, gripping the handlebars, and ride your bike away from the circuit, leaving a cloud of dust behind you. The streets blur past you, seeking an escape from everything. Your dorm or campus are the last place you want to be tonight.

After what feels like hours, you spot a cheap motel by the roadside. Its flickering neon sign is a welcome sight, a promise of anonymity, and a place to rest. You pull in, park your bike and walk to the reception. The clerk barely looks up as you hand over cash for the night. Key in hand, you head to your room.

The room is small and poorly illuminated, but it’s a refuge from the chaos of the night. You lay on the bed, the springs creaking under you, and pull out your phone. The screen is still lit with notifications, but you don’t want to see any of them. Whether it was Mingyu or someone else who shared those photos, you don’t care. Not tonight.

[...]

The weekend drags by, each minute feeling like an eternity. You don’t go to class, don’t leave your dorm except to grab food from the vending machine, because, you can’t face the pity in your friends’ eyes.

You clean obsessively, organizing your bookshelf, scrubbing the floors, folding clothes into neat piles. It’s a futile attempt to regain some semblance of order in your life. It feels like you’re erasing him from your life, one item at a time.

The notifications on your phone keep popping up, your friends and classmates checking in, asking if you’re okay. You manage to reply with short, curt responses. "Yeah," you type, "Just need some space." The lie feels heavy on your fingertips, but it’s easier than explaining the tornado of emotions inside you.

As the day stretches on, you start to feel a little more in control. You’re not going to let this beat you. You’re not going to let Mark or Mingyu ruin what you’ve built. 

So you sit there, in the quiet of your room, and you start to plan. You’re going to show up to class, to the next race, with your head held high. You’re going to leave the drama behind and focus on what you do best—race.

On Thursday, you walk into class, a box in your arms. The whispers start as soon as you enter the room, the eyes are on you like a spotlight. You find Mark’s usual seat and drop the box in front of it, the thud echoing in the stunned silence.

The box, with his things.

You don’t wait for his reaction. You don’t need to. You turn and walk out, leaving the whispers and the weight of his backstabbing behind.

At lunch, you sit with your friends, the same table you’ve shared since freshman year. They all look at you, their eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" one of them asks, tentatively.

You nod, trying to put on a brave face. "Yeah," you say, your voice stronger than you feel, "I just needed some time to sort things out."

They all nod, understanding without needing the details. They know the score, they know what happened at the race. They know about the picture, the rumors, the cheating.

"You've cried enough," your best friend says, her voice firm but gentle, "It's like that bruise on your knee from when you were seven. It hurt like hell, but it's healing now."

You manage a small smile at the memory. It’s true. You’ve shed enough tears over Mark to fill an ocean. But here you are, breathing, standing, moving forward.

"Let’s talk about something else," you say, changing the subject. "What's new with all of you?"

They exchange glances, clearly surprised by your sudden shift in tone, but they follow your lead. They talk about their classes, their weekends, their plans for spring break. You listen, really listen, letting their words wash over you like a balm to your soul.

"Oh, and apparently none of Mark’s friends want to talk to him," someone says, almost as an afterthought. "They had no idea."

"Good," you say. "He’s not worth their time either."

Your friends nod, respecting your wishes to not delve into the drama further. You don’t need their pity or their empathy. You just need them to be there, to be the rock that grounds you.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you all stand up, collecting your trash. "Thanks, guys," you say, your voice genuine.

"For what?" one of them asks.

"For not treating me like I’m made of glass." you reply, smiling.

They laugh, you know they’re worried, but you also know they trust you to handle this. You’re the same person you were before the race. You’re strong.

The sadness has morphed into something else, anger simmers just under the surface, a slow burn that’s been building since that message. You’re not just mad at Mark, but at Mingyu too. You don’t know his role in this, but you can feel his influence, the way he’s been poking and prodding, trying to get under your skin.

And now, it’s like a game of chess, and you’re the pawn in the middle of the board. You can’t help but wonder if he’s been playing you from the start. If all those smirks and smug looks were just part of his plan to take you down.

The bell rings, and you grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your arm. You turn, ready to snap, and find yourself face-to-face with Mingyu. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, don’t be grumpy. Running away from me, princess?” he says, a sulky look on his face.

You remember avoiding both Mingyu and Mark all day, doing everything to keep your distance. You start to leave, but he holds onto your arm again, making you huff in frustration.

“You should thank me, don’t you think?” he says, his tone teasing.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu smirks. “First, I let you win last Saturday,” he says, lying through his teeth. You remember how he was right on your tail during the race, clearly giving it his all.

“And I got you rid of that asshole,” he adds.

You cross your arms, glaring at him. “So, you’re admitting you orchestrated this whole thing, huh?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I warned him it would happen.”

“He knew?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief.

Mingyu tilts his head slightly, like he’s stating the obvious. “Of course he knew. Y/N, he was cheating on you for a whole semester. At the first freshman party I went to, I saw him with Sayla. She’s from my class.”

“What?” you nearly shout, drawing the attention of nearby students. Mingyu gives you an exasperated look, like it’s common knowledge.

You grab his arm and drag him around campus, heading for the grandstand where you can talk in private. Once there, you turn to him, your eyes blazing with anger.

“I saw the photo, and I know it’s real. But Mingyu, if you’re lying about this, I swear I will fucking kill you.”

He shakes his head, his expression serious. “Why would I lie to you? If I need to tell you something, I’ll say it to your face.”

“Tell me from the beginning,” you demand, crossing your arms.

He rolls his eyes but starts talking. “Well, it was my first party here, a freshman party. I needed to go to the bathroom, and there they were, making out.”

You make a disgusted face, which seems to amuse him. “But in the photo, they weren’t in a bathroom,” you point out.

“Yeah, it happened plenty of times. When I found out he was your boyfriend, I went to a frat party and took that photo,” Mingyu explains.

“That one?” you ask, referring to the incriminating photo.

Mingyu nods. “Yeah, that one. He saw the photo and came to have it out with me. I might have told him that if he didn’t tell you, I would, and that I would love to take care of his girlfriend.”

You scoff. “So that’s why he was so sick-jealous of me?”

Mingyu closes his eyes and nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You curse under your breath, feeling the weight of betrayal all over again. “This motherf—”

You stop, looking at Mingyu, who’s watching you with a confused expression. “What do you mean by ‘take care of his girlfriend’?”

Mingyu smirks. “I was interested in you. But when I found out you were dating, I backed off. When I saw your boyfriend slacking, I needed to make it clear to Mark that I was going to reach out to you somehow.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the audacity of it all making your blood boil. “So, you’ve been planning this from the start?”

“Not exactly,” Mingyu says, shrugging. “But I saw an opportunity and took it. Your boyfriend was a dick, and you deserve better.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “And you think you’re better?”

Mingyu’s is smug. “I know I am.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Mingyu steps closer, his gaze intense. “You’re fierce, competitive, and you don’t take shit from anyone. You’re exactly the kind of challenge I like.”

You roll your eyes, though a small part of you is flattered? “You’re still an asshole.”

He grins. “Maybe, but at least I’m honest about it. Can’t say the same for Mark.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process everything. "Mingyu, just stay out of my way. I don’t need any more complications.”

“What can I say? I know what I want.” He shrugs before leaving, again, with that stupid smirk on his face. 

[...]

You were dragged by your friends to every party on campus, parties you didn’t even know existed, every day a new one. According to them, you needed to enjoy your new ‘single’ life. And with all the guys on campus now aware that you were single, your DMs were flooded. 

Tonight was one of those nights. Everyone saw you parking your motorcycle in front of the frat house, the rumble announcing your arrival. You danced with your friends, met new people, but your happiness didn’t last long.

You caught a glimpse of Mark and Sayla. Sayla was wearing one of his baseball jackets, his arm draped over her shoulder. Everyone stared at them, the ‘new’ couple making a fool of themselves. 

You didn’t expect Mark to be so bald-faced about it. Your blood boiled, your head felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to leave the party. But if you did, you’d look weak. So you stayed, trying to enjoy the party with your friends, but it was impossible. When Mark kissed Sayla, one eye open in your direction to gauge your reaction, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed your helmet and stormed out of the party, your friends calling after you, warning you not to do anything stupid because you were hot-headed. 

And you were, for real. 

Arriving back on campus, you pulled out your phone, fingers fumbling as you dialed a number. Your steps echoed, the dress you’d chosen for the party riding up with each step, making you pull it down in frustration.

The phone rang, and rang, until finally, a voice answered, “You calling me? Y/N, what a—”

“Where are you?” you cut him off, voice trembling with rage.

“Damn, what happened to ‘hello, how are you?’” The voice was playful, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Where. Are. You.”

“Hell, I’m at my dorm, wassup?”

“Open the door,” you demanded.

“What?”

“Open the fucking door,” you said before hanging up.

Moments later, the dorm door opened, revealing Mingyu with the phone still in his hand, wearing only black shorts that showed a peek of his white underwear. He looked confused, but when he saw you—eyes almost black with rage, in your little dress—he swore it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe.

You pushed him inside, slamming the door shut behind you and tossing your cell phone on the table. You kissed him, rough and urgent, your fingers tangling in his hair. Mingyu moaned between kisses, the realization that you were kissing him sinking in. His hands found your waist, one hand sliding up to your neck, choking you slightly, making you gasp.

A smirk played on his lips, between breaths. “About time you admitted it.”

“Shut up,” you muttered before kissing him again, harder this time.

Mingyu's grip tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re so damn hot when you’re mad,” he murmured against your lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you demanded, your fingers tugging at his hair.

He obliged, kissing you with a fervor that matched your own. His hand slid down your back, gripping your ass and pulling you against him. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, a reminder of how much he wanted you. You broke the kiss, breathlessly, your eyes locking onto his.

“What’s your plan, Y/N?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

You smirked, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “To make sure I don’t think about Mark ever again.”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened with craving. “I can help with that.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him back into a kiss, your hands exploring his body, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, fingers fumbling from his big chest, to the defined lines of his abs.

Your hand slides from his lower belly to his cock, squeezing his clothed erection slightly. You feel him twitch in your hand, a broken sob leaving his lips.

“Fuck, you got hard so fast,” you murmur against his mouth.

He moans, his breath hot and heavy. “Can’t help it when it’s you.”

You grin wickedly, turning around to show him the long zipper at the back of your dress. “Help me,” you say, your voice low and inviting.

Mingyu nods, his eyes dark with desire. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he catches the zipper and slides it down, his happiness akin to opening a Christmas gift. The dress falls away, and you hold your breasts in your hands, turning to face him, your fingers playing with your hardened nipples, watching his eyebrows furrow.

His hot hand covers yours, and you let him take over, feeling the heat of his touch. He pushes you toward the bed, his lips trailing kisses down your neck before biting gently, his notorious fangs grazing your sensitive skin. 

You moan, the sound going straight to his cock. His hands move desperately to your panties, fingers fumbling with the lace until they’re off your legs. He opens your legs with his hands, giving your wet folds a not-so-discreet look.

Mingyu licks his fingers, meeting your eyes before sliding them inside you. You scream at the sudden stretch, feeling his big fingers filling you. He looks at you, to see if it hurts, but then he feels you getting wetter and wetter, your pants filling the room. His hand stills, and you roll your clit against his palm.

His fingers start to slide in and out, the wet noises are sinful as he finds your g'spot. You gasp, your body arching from his bedsheets, your both hands finding his forearm, stilling his fingers curled in this position. 

Mingyu's eyes widen in surprise at your reaction, and he repeats the motion, pressing against your sweet spot again, making your eyes fill with tears. 

''R-right here! Please!" 

“Did your boyfriend never find this spot?” he asks, his voice serious.

You shake your head negatively, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. 

Mingyu's expression hardens, anger flashing in his eyes. “That asshole didn’t know how to please you,” he mutters, then his voice softens as he coos at you. 

You sob, his fingers curling repeatedly on the spongy spot. “Aw… don’t worry, my love. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

He continues to stimulate you, watching your every reaction, your pleasure nourishing his own. His fingers work you expertly, and you start to get embarrassed by how wet you are getting.

But you can't stop your hips from rubbing against his hands, you can't stop yourself from constantly moaning his name, and you can't help but wonder how you survived without feeling the pleasure Mingyu was giving you.  

Your body tenses so much, you're afraid of getting injured, and the pleasure builds, making your vision blurry, catching only Mingyu's silhouette. “Mingyu…,” you gasp, your voice shaking.

He's in love with your sensitive form. He slides his fingers out, brushing against your clit, making you moan, wanting the stimulation again, but then he munches on your pussy, making a throaty moan leave your mouth, tears wetting your cheeks. You don't even know if you're sobbing or moaning. You can only focus on his warm mouth sucking everything it can. 

Mingyu moans against you, like he's getting stimulated too, and when you manage to squeak out, “Gonna' cum,” he moans even more, the vibrations going to your clit as you arch your back, squeezing your tits. 

He opens your legs—quivering pathetically around his head—with the strength of his arms. He only stops when he feels your clit throbbing incessantly inside his mouth, all sensitive.

You don't know how long it took before you were in your mind again, but you can feel Mingyu kissing your whole body. For him, it was a maxim to calm you down, but mainly to appreciate every bit of your skin. When you open your eyes, he's kissing your hand, his thumb gently caressing it. You don't look much, or you will blush. For him, it could finish like this: you cummed, satisfied, and he gets satisfied. But then you mumble, eyes lidded, “Fuck me, please.”

His eyes almost fall from his skull. He watches your legs spread, and you slap weakly at your pussy, inviting him. Mingyu almost falls back with your tease. His hands, lowering his shorts and underwear in one go, desperate to go over you.

"Wait." 

He stills, and you smile at his obedience. You turn around, on all fours, wiggling your ass at him, and you hear a suffered moan behind you, making you scoff. 

He squeezes your ass between his hands tightly, then slaps your meat, making you hiss. Then another one, making you moan. Then another one, making you drip a line of your cum on the sheets.

Mingyu feels like a crazy creature. He pumps his veiny cock before sliding on your wet folds to spread your cum. And then slides inside. You were so tight, so tight that his blood pressure almost falls down. 

“I need to thank your boyfriend for keeping it tight.” He groans after bottoming out.

You widen your eyes at the comment, he sounded so sincere. And you laugh, your hand covering your face, and he chuckles too, seeing that he can't hold his tongue around you.

He can feel you clenching around him every time you laugh, making him moan synchronized with you. He starts to move and your laughs turn into moans, laughed-moans.

“Shit, you’re so tight, you are squeezing me,” he cries, his thrusts slow and deep.

“Didn’t think you’d be this talkative,” you manage between gasps, your body responding to every move he makes.

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. 

His pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You grip the sheets, your back arching as he hits just the right spot. “Right there, Mingyu. Fuck, right there.”

He obeys, his thrusts becoming more precise, each one sending thrills through your body. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “So fucking good.”

"Seriously, Mingyu," continue betwee moans, "you have no filter."

He grins, thrusting harder. "You're too much."

"Too much for you?" you tease, pushing back against him.

"Never," he mooans, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "I could do this forever."

You moan at his words, that feeling on your stomach tightening. "God, Mingyu..."

He leans over, his breath hot against your ear. "You like it when I talk, hm? When I say, how good you feel?"

You nod frantically, your mind a blur, you were cock-drunk, moaning his name like it was the only word you ever knew.

He chuckles darkly, thrusting deeper. "Good, because I’m not stopping until you can’t even say his name."

He stops his hips inside you, balls deep, and you can feel his tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips to make you feel it deep. Your arms quiver, making you fall with your chest on the bed, face on the sheets. You've never felt someone this deep before. Your hand reaches the bulge Mingyu makes on your belly, and you writhe.

He dirty talks, "You like to feel me here?"

You answer with a throaty moan. He closes his eyes to your rough moan and says, "Fuck, I need to see your pretty face moaning my name."

He turns you to lay on the bed again, one of your legs on his shoulder, and the other stretched by his hand. Since when were you this flexible? you think. When he slams inside you again, your messy cunt clings to him for dear life.

You moan all sly, and Mingyu is inches from your face now, and he teases you, "Look who's all sensitive right now. Where's that grumpy girl from the race? Hm? You just needed a good cock fucking you right to get you relaxed? Right, babe?"

You want to clap a hand on his mouth to keep his cocky talk out of it, but your pussy betrays you, clenching around him the moment his dirty words start to fall from his lips. Instead, you give some wet kisses on his lips. He reciprocates every one of them.

You ask him to touch you, and he looks in your eyes, asking, "Where?"

You guide one of his hands to your clit. He collects some of the lubrication that formed a ring at the base of his cock and starts to massage the swollen bud, circling it. Your nails scratch his back, and he hisses, eyes closing. He ruts desperately into you, your pussy casting a spell on him, all wet and good for him. 

You glance around the space, the warm illuminated lamp, the scent of his cologne everywhere, his tanned body sweating to give you pleasure, his muscles clenching as he holds you, his hand on your clit, his cock filling you, his eyes focused on every one of your expressions, his moans every time you clench.

You prepare for every detail when your eyes suddenly blur. You feel it coming... fuck. You're cumming, but something else is coming too. 

The realization hits you, and you say, "No, no, no, shit!"

You hold his bicep, your head thrown back, the veins on your neck popping. You try to stop, but you can't. You squirt all over him and his bed.

Mingyu stops inside you, mouth open. Now he gets desperate, taking his cock from you and cumming on your belly, so far that it hits your tits too. He lets your legs rest on the bed, and you cover your mouth.

"M-Mingyu, your bed! I'm sorry, let me put this to wash and—" You start to get up, feeling a rush of embarrassment and responsibility for the mess.

Mingyu, still catching his breath, quickly moves to stop you, his hand firm but gentle on your shoulder. He gives you a little push, making you lay back on the bed again. "Hey, relax," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's just a bed. We can clean it up later."

You look at him, your cheeks flushed. "But it's such a mess," you protest weakly.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I like it messy," he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "Besides, I think I like you better like this."

"But seriously, Mingyu, your bed—"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering embrace. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. "The bed can wait," he murmurs. "Right now, I want to focus on you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your pulse quicken. "Mingyu," you whisper, feeling the heat rise in your body again.

He tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says softly. "Especially when you're all flustered and breathless like this."

Mingyu's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Then why don't we make a little more mess before we clean up?" he suggests, his voice a seductive whisper.

[...]

Your ex's message lights up your cellphone on the table beside the bed: "Where are you?" Mark asks. You can't help but scoff at the audacity. The nerve of him to ask after everything he's done. A surge of defiance washes over you, fueled by the memory of him flaunting Sayla around like some trophy.

Mingyu's rhythm doesn't falter as he thrusts into you from behind, his hand gripping your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the pain on your scalp, but loving the pleasure that comes with it too. You reach for your phone, you know exactly how to answer Mark's question.

With a quick swipe, you open the camera, positioning it just right. The screen captures the sinful scene—Mingyu's defined body behind you, your flushed shoulder peeking into view, and your hair being pulled by Mingyu. 

You snap the photo and attach it to the message as a single view photo. 

Letting the image speak for itself.

"Here's your answer," you mutter under your breath, hitting send.

Mingyu's grip tightens, his pace quickening as he senses the shift in your mood. "What did you just do?" he asks, laughing.

You turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "Just answered a question," you reply, your voice breathless.

Mingyu's eyes darken with approval. "Good girl," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Let's give him something to really be jealous about."

The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with the chorus of moans and gasps that fill the room. As Mingyu's hand slips down to tease your clit, your phone buzzes again, another message from Mark. 

But you don't bother to check it. 

[zenlesszonezero]

[1d1195]

The Lottery I

~3.7k words

From me: I thought I would close out 2024 with a mini-series. I'm hoping for shorter parts but I should be able to post on a regular basis (Mondays). You should see MANY similarities to my favorite show. I have been planning this one for over a year. I really hope you enjoy 💕

Warnings: angst (?) fluff

Summary: Small towns have the biggest romances and the best view of the moon.

“I don’t know how you ended up there,” Bailey shook her head.

“Bails,” she laughed. “I Googled it. It’s cute.”

The little town was adorably cute. The kind of place where the Christmas-hating CEO female lead in the movie would fall head over heels for the place in a month because of the small-town charm. It was about thirty minutes outside the city but with traffic it could take up to an hour. It was quaint. The exact kind of place she could envision her little dream.

“Your house is good?” Bailey asked. She nodded, flipping the camera to show her the little place she found to live in. Two stories. But the second floor was small. A bedroom, a bathroom, and a small room for storage. Maybe in the right light it could be a small office, but it would be better holding all her books. The bottom floor was open. Living room, dining area, and a kitchen. Down the hall was another bathroom and her bedroom. Right now, it was filled with boxes and no clear markers for any of the rooms. Her furniture was misplaced—the table in the living room, the TV on top of it, the couch was near the kitchen, and the lamps were atop the counters in the kitchen.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.

Moving in was second to her priorities. So the boxes would stay, her clothes haphazardly falling out of boxes, the iron on top of the island in the kitchen to get the wrinkles out of her blouses. “Neighbors are good?”

“I’ve only met Edith and David. They’re about sixty-five years old and hilarious. Edith is insistent on having tea by the end of the week and David wants to set me up with his grandson.”

“I can’t imagine you outside the city,” Bailey sounded wistful.

“It’ll be good for me to be away from all the big lights. I missed the stars... and the moon,” her voice was filled with fondness. Like the moon was her old friend she hadn’t seen in a while.

“We could see the moon in the city,” Bailey reminded her.

It wasn’t just the moon, it was the stars, and silence that the city never allowed. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“You know babe...” Bailey trailed off. “You look... happy.”

She was. Really happy. The kind of happiness that couldn’t be faked because she was supposed to be happy. The kind of happiness that would make anyone jealous. And why shouldn’t she be happy? She was young, basically fresh out of college, ready to start her own business, and do everything she wanted on her own.

“I am happy,” she nodded and looked at her best friend through FaceTime. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. Try not to let them be too mean to me. I’m... I’m good,” she promised. “This is good.”

“You know,” Bailey grinned and shook her head. “I think you’re right.”

*

She wore her lucky dress—the one that she is certain got her a scholarship—and chose a pair of flats over heels because in her quick self-tour of the town she noted the brick sidewalks were likely to take out her ankle. She made sure every single strand of her hair wasn’t out of place. She wanted this to be a good impression. All her books and shows told her that small towns were lovely, but she was an outsider. It was possible that they wouldn’t love a newcomer and so she didn’t want to make it seem like she was changing everything.

But since it was her first night in her new home, there was nothing to eat. Nor to cook with even if she wanted to. Maybe if she had a loaf of bread, she could find her toaster in one of the boxes. Moving on her own was tough but she was proud of herself. Another check she could mark on her to-do list.

Her first order of business was securing her business. However, that couldn’t be done on an empty stomach. She locked the door to the little home she now owned. The trim needed a coat of paint, and she desperately needed to buy a lawn mower. Some of the windows needed to be replaced. She tried opening one of them and nearly threw her back out. The bushes in front of the little porch needed to be trimmed or taken out altogether.

But it was home, and it was lovely. She was excited to do it on her own. It made her feel proud.

Her family was far away. Honestly, it was for the best. They thought it was a terrible idea for her to move, maybe because they couldn’t depend on her any longer. If she thought too long about it, she got upset. But this was good. She was doing what her grandma believed she could do. What her grandpa wanted her to do.

With a family far away, her place was filled with boxes. Hardly anything was unpacked. It was a miracle she found her lucky dress but perhaps that was why it was so lucky. With the distance between them, it was easier to ignore the group chat. Easier to not feel obligated to help her family.

They’re adults, honey. They’ll figure it out.

She hoped her grandma was right.

Her friends were still in the city. Completely shocked she left the hustle and bustle for a small-town place. Their lack of support or what they passed off as worry made her nervous all the same. How would it survive? But she researched the perfect place and took plenty of time setting up everything she needed so she was ready to go when she graduated.

The only thing she wished could be different, was that her grandparents got to see her.

*

The main part of town felt like a city. But way friendlier. People shouted in the middle of the road. Kids ran across the road to the school. There were very few cars but even the ones present parked illegally and the officer strolling the sidewalks didn’t pay any mind to it. It was adorable. It felt like she was in a Disney movie, and she wanted to sing.

The center green was being set up with seats and banners. People were on walkie-talkies directing more items about the area. The space was warm and cozy. Like where she could spend the day reading in the grass and have a picnic with herself or a friend.

God, she hoped she made some friends. It seemed possible. Everyone was so nice. They all knew each other. That was evident. It was so comforting, exactly the change she wanted and needed, and she prayed they wouldn’t hate her for trying to bring something new to their little place.

As her stomach reminded her once more of its presence and emptiness, she approached the diner on one side of the main street. Squished between the post office and a shoe store. Someone was exiting as she opened the door, so she gestured for them to exit before she proceeded. “Thank you, darling,” the man tipped his hat to her.

With one deep breath, she entered.

It was like she was the new girl at school. The second she crossed the threshold of the diner, everyone stared at her. There wasn’t a voice to be heard, the only sound coming from behind the counter in the kitchen. “Uh... hi,” she swallowed. Quietly, she made her way to the counter and situated herself at the end of it away from everyone else.

Sure, she wanted to be part of the community and wanted to be liked, but she didn’t want to force it. The place continued to be quiet, although the murmuring began. No doubt everyone whispered about her. “No newcomers lately, I guess,” she mumbled under her breath and pulled out her folder of paperwork to go over it again.

You’re going to crush it! Bailey’s message read. She smiled gratefully, feeling her heart slow. She was wearing her lucky dress. It was going to happen. She was going to be happy no matter what.

“Shit!” It was paired with the distinct sound of something shattering. She turned directly to the sound as did everyone else in the place and she was on her feet immediately. It wasn’t anything major, a coffee mug on the floor.

“Jesus, honey, watch it!” It was an older woman who scolded her husband with a light thwack on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to, Alice!”

“Harry!” Someone called.

“Jus’ a second,” the voice was from the back, low, almost like it didn’t want to be heard. He must have been cooking or something because there was a commotion in the back behind the kitchen door. She didn’t think much of it because she was worried that poor Alice and her husband were going to get hurt picking up the broken shards or slip in the mess of spilled coffee on the floor.

“I can help,” she offered and crouched near the older woman—Alice—as she struggled to grab the pieces. “Here,” she grabbed a rag off the counter even though she had never been there and it wasn’t her place to do so. Gently she pushed the broken pieces and coffee into a neat little pile sopping up the mess as best she could.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Alice chimed. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” she smiled politely.

“Did you just move here?” She asked. Perhaps that would satiate the whispering.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where are you living?”

“Oh... um... Oak Street,” she stammered. It probably didn’t help her newness that she stammered. But her new address was new; she was still getting used to it.

“Oh, Holliston’s place! It’s a lovely home,” someone called from across the room.

“Y’don’t have t’do that,” it was the same voice that called from the back but now right next to her.

“Oh...” Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. Did time seem to stop? That couldn’t be right. She wasn’t going to have a crush on the first guy she met on her first official day as a resident of the small town. “I don’t mind,” she said quickly looking up at him from her crouched position. “Happy to help and...” She stopped speaking again as he stared at her. His eyes were pretty, even if he looked grumpy. His mouth was set in a frown, and she noticed that once more everyone stopped speaking. “Sorry,” she said and stood, scooping the mess as best she could in her hands. Coffee dripped from the rag into the puddle at her feet. She could feel the splatter on her ankles, and she was nervous to look if she had ruined her shoes. It didn’t bother her, but she wasn’t sure she’d have time to head home and change before she went to the town hall.

Harry held out the tray for dirty dishes and she placed the rag, broken pieces of mug, and all into it. He dropped it on the counter about two spaces down from where her folder and purse remained. “Are you okay, ma’am?” She asked softly placing a gentle hand on her arm in a comforting kind of way.

“Alice, Ed, y’okay?” Harry—she presumed—was quiet. It almost rubbed her the wrong way that he repeated her, but he knew them, and she didn’t. So, she returned to her seat quietly after offering one more smile to Alice.

“All good, Harry,” Ed said in return.

Harry went back around the counter and fiddled with the coffee pot. He refilled a new mug and brought it over to Ed.  When he returned behind the counter he stood in front of her silently. Waiting. Not offering a word nor question.

Harry looked to be roughly her age. Handsome. If this was David’s grandson, she would have reconsidered his offer. But his scowl was to be desired. Made her uneasy. She wondered if this was how he always was or if it was something about her.

But she wanted to be liked. People generally didn’t dislike her. It would devastate her if he did. As grumpy as he seemed, she wasn’t going to shy away from her own personality. “Do y’want something?”

“What’s your favorite?” She asked glancing from the menu to him.

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a favorite.”

She blinked. He worked here. Did he own it? That would be crazy, he was so young. But she was young and about to own her business too. So who was she to judge his age? “How can you not have a favorite?”

“I like it all,” he shrugged.

“You seriously don’t have a favorite?”

“Since I own the diner,” he was explaining it like she was a toddler, “everything is good.”

“Well...” she took a deep breath. It wasn’t that she was one of those people who assumed everyone would like her, but it was... different to work for friendliness. Bailey told her she had the kind of face that would work wonders in sales. Everyone just opened up to her.

But not Harry. Harry was stoic as could be. It barely looked like he was breathing. Other than the irritation in his eyes, he had a really nice face. Smooth skin, angular jaw, and just pretty features that were probably wasted on someone so grumpy. But she could see something flicker in his eyes. Something that she wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to see which is why it was merely a flicker.

Was this grumpy man amused? By her?

“...Do you have a recommendation then?”

“Anything. It’s all good,” he was clearly over this exchange.

She thought she could get him to budge but it didn’t seem that way. This was the fast track to nowhere. Not the impression she wanted to make on her first official day in town. Sighing, she glanced at the specials board. “You have peach pancakes?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have white chocolate chips?”

Harry sighed, exasperated with the conversation, and she hadn’t even ordered her coffee yet. “Yup...” he was staring at her like this was going to kill him. Or he was going to kill her.

“Can I have one of each? Peaches and white chocolate chip?”

“What?” He seemed surprised. Which was interesting because surely it couldn’t have been crazy. Peaches and white chocolate chips had to be popular if he had them. He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” She frowned.

“Because s’extra work t’make a whole batch of peachpancakes and chocolate chip. One or the other.”

Maybe it was his tone or her frustration. The nerves of heading to town hall after breakfast. The piss-poor impression she was making at the extremely local diner where everyone seemed to know Harry. Even though he was grumpy they still ate there. It was obvious this wasn’t their first day being there. They still called out for him when the mug shattered even though she was more than capable of helping.

But she didn’t want to take no for an answer. Maybe if he had placated her or smiled. Or if he just didn’t look at her like she was the bane of his existence she wouldn’t have pressed. “But... I don’t want one or the other. I want one of each.”

“Get ‘em mixed together or don’t have ‘em,” he shrugged.

“But if I get them mixed together, the peaches will sink to one side or slide off all together. The chocolate chips always sink to the bottom. So the ratio in each bite will be off. I’ve tried it before; it just doesn’t blend well.”

“If I make y’one peach and one white chocolate chip, then all m’ratios will be off. I’ll have t’purchase different quantities of peaches and chocolate chips.”

“That seems a little dramatic for one plate of—"

“S’my diner! Jus’ order what’s on the menu or order four pancakes.”

“That’s absurd! I doubt I’ll even eat one whole pancake!”

Harry swallowed hard, his jaw flexing tight. Briefly he looked at the ceiling and then back at her. His voice was quieter when he spoke. “Order what’s on the menu or don’t order at—"

“Fine! Two peach pancakes!”

Honestly, she has no idea why she was arguing in the first place. It was idiotic and childish but there was something about the grumpiness that was off-putting and made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was solely because he didn’t seem to like her, and she was trying really hard to fit in and he was the only person she had met so far that was close to her own age. If she could get him to like her, then maybe she wouldn’t be friendless and lonely.

With another large sigh (like it was painful for him to be standing near her) he rolled his eyes and headed to the back to make her breakfast. She wouldn’t be surprised if he poisoned them.

The diner was still quiet, and she could feel eyes flicking over to her repeatedly, their gazes heating her up with knowledge she was being watched. To keep her cool, she continued flipping through her paperwork folder and scrolled on her phone.

About ten minutes later, Harry returned holding her plate. It was practically silent again. The show that ensued was not forgotten by the other customers. Harry failed to hide his interest in her paperwork and failed to hide the fact he was reading whatever was in front of her. It didn’t bother her, honestly. She wanted to be an open book. Especially in a small town and especially with the guy that looked beyond irritated with her.

Trying again was insanity. But she was nothing if not one for perseverance. “Do you know what time the town hall opens? I tried to find a time online but—"

Harry snorted. “Town Hall doesn’t do online. S’whenever Sutton gets there t’unlock.”

She blinked. Small towns. “When’s that?”

“Usually before nine-thirty.”

“Usually?”

Harry shrugged, placing the plate in front of her. She could smell cinnamon and maple. Of course, the peaches were starting to caramelize as well and so it really looked utterly delicious. “Sometimes he forgets his alarm. Then s’before ten-thirty.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Alright,” she nodded. “Hey,” she called quietly as Harry turned to leave. “Do you do tabs? I’m probably going to be here every morning before work. It’s fine if you don’t. Just... figured it would easier.”

Did it get even quieter? Harry had a way with sighing. Heavily. Like talking to her and thinking were the two greatest and hardest tasks he’d ever been given in his life. Her eyes quickly darted around the place. There were enough tables to seat about twenty people plus five seats at the counter. It was busy—not crowded or full, but busy. It was just after the morning commute group had left; she had to imagine. The hustle of the nine-to-five crowd was long gone. “Sure,” he shook his head. “Every Friday.”

She was certain she didn’t imagine it that time. The entire place was silent for another ten seconds before the low murmur picked up again.

“Okay, thank you. I just... moved into town and I had no food at my house.”

“Whose house?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Whose house did y’buy?”

“Oh... uh... the Holliston’s?” Was that the name someone said a few moments ago? It had to be because no one corrected her, and it was apparent everyone was listening to her to talk to Harry.

“Nice couple,” she supposed she got it right then. “Do you want coffee?” He asked.

Was this him warming up to her? It was interesting. It wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t arguing. Which she liked. Although arguing with him was kind of... fun in its own way. But she needed a friend before she argued with him for hours on end.

“Oh, yes,” she nodded quickly. “Please. Thank you.” Was it hot in there? Harry was attractive—even if he was grumpy. A sour face usually turned her off immediately. But with Harry... it didn’t seem so grumpy anymore. Especially now that he stopped arguing with her. The crease between his eyebrows disappeared. His frown turned to a more neutral expression. She swore that flicker of amusement was back again. “This is a really cute town,” she remarked.

Harry ignored the comment as he poured her a mug of steaming coffee and placed a little plate of cream and sugar packets beside it. “What brings y’here?” He asked. She did hear his skepticism like maybe he was going to kick her out before she unpacked if she wasn’t good enough for the clique-y village.

“Oh,” she swallowed. “I’m hoping to open a book shop.”

Harry tilted his head at her, surprise all over his face and she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why that would be. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. Approval? Was she in the club? “Alright, well... welcome, I guess. Let me know if y’need help with the water at y’house. It always gave the Holliston’s trouble in the winter, and I’d have t’go over and fix it. Don’t want y’pipes t’freeze.”

That was it. He walked away. She watched the grumpy, attractive man tend to the tables, cleaning, and serving all by himself. The others were patient. There was no rushing to get to work like it was Starbucks and everyone quietly waited their turn. There wasn’t a lot of small talk with Harry, but people smiled at him. Like they knew him from the time he was a baby. Maybe they did.

She hoped he would warm up to her. It would be nice to have a friend like him.

Turning to her breakfast, she cut into both pancakes stacked on top of one another, brought a bite of the two little pieces to her mouth after drowning it in enough maple syrup to make the man look at her suspiciously from across the room.

There was no way someone was that concerned about ratios of one patron. He could be grumpy all he wanted, but Harry was dramatic too. (Even if it was way more syrup than she needed, and he probably had a point in worrying about syrup—especially if she was going to be there every day.)

But as the bite hit her tastebuds, she had to look down and see it for herself.

One pancake was peach and the other was white chocolate chip.

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[donatellawritings]

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🐇 introducing princess!reader, ugh i love her sm <3

you were fairly new to kildare island, completely wet behind your chanel-adorned ears. it had only been a few days, since your parents had made the switch from the cozy countryside of puerto rico, unpacking their final cardboard box that harshly clashed against the dreamy interior of your bright and sunny lakeside home. you weren’t surprised that your parents had chosen such a picturesque home of grandeur, they always had a niche for the finer things in life, a trait that was undoubtedly passed down to you.

you see, you had always been a spoiled princess, always insisting of having anything and everything that you wanted — and it was always given to you, without question. perhaps it was the fact that you were an only child? who cares, you were the precious little girl that your parents would go to the ends of the earth for, so why should you accept anything less, from anyone else?

as privileged as it may seem, you did have to admit that you loved living a life where you were pampered and had every single need, no matter how minute or ridiculous, fulfilled without question. you always wore the finest of fabrics from the most upscale brands, exercised in the cutest athleisure wear as you worked up a sweat on your peloton, i mean, you even made it a point to get your hair and nails done every other week. your parents’ banking statements were essays long, detailing your multiple visits to sephora, mainland boutiques, your hefty car note, and monthly spa membership fees.

but, you were far from a ditzy girl, in fact, you were so entitled to the point where you turned your button nose upward at every guy who approached you. you had yet to find a man who didn’t allow you to walk him like a pathetic little dog, you knew that you needed a man who would put you in your place, yet shower you with adornment and lavish gifts.

carefully scraping the tiny smear of residual lipgloss with the tips of your long almond french-manicured nails, you huffed as you flipped your blown-out hair over your shoulder. “ma, m’going to drop this off now!” you called out, tugging on your light grey mini skirt, your fingers dancing over the black lace and pink ribbon adornment, before you grabbed ahold of the white ceramic tray of lemon squares that your mother prepared the night prior.

you’d been given the task of introducing yourself to your neighbors, especially since you father had made it a point to extend the services of his construction company to the fellow members of the country club. your parents had praised you for being their sweet little girl who would be staying home for college to the community, so it was now your turn to seal your reputation as the perfect girl next door, and help uphold your parents’ fresh reputation as newcomers on figure 8.

your perky tits were cutely pushed up against the undone buttons of your undersized button up top, your gold rosary glinting against the sunlight as you made your chanel mules stepped out on the floorboards of your front porch.

𝜗୧

after about an hour of walking from door to door and exchanging your rehearsed pleasantries, while offering the sweet and tangy sticky treat, you’d finally made it to the final home that seemed to overlook the entirety of the community. your puffy cheeks ached from your stretched smile as the soles of your french-pedicure feet throbbed — maybe wearing heels as you walked from porch to porch wasn’t the smartest idea? balancing the tray of lemon gooey lemon squares onto one hand, you brushed a strand of hair from your extended lashes, letting out a small huff, before you mushed your finger into the doorbell.

it didn’t take long before the front door was answered, your rehearsed introduction flitting away from you as you looked up at the blue eyes that stared down at you. your lipstick stained lips parted as the twenty-something year old man stood, his jaw tight as he raised his eyebrows at you, before his eyes shamelessly fell to your pushed-up tits, “i, uh, hi! my family and i recently moved in, so i just wanted to introduce myself,” you smiled, a blush creeping to your cheeks as you revealed your name to the tall man.

“ah, s’that right?” he questioned, clearing throat with a nod to himself as he took it upon himself to lift the plastic wrap that concealed the melted lemon squares, before his curtain bangs fell in front of his eyes. “y’walked all the way here, by yourself, huh,” he mumbled, placing the wrapping to close around the tray, before bringing his intimidating gaze to yours.

with a nod, you nudged the tray in his direction, “would you like one? my mother made them fresh!” you beamed, restoring your role as the mannered girl next door, your trained resolve slowly burning away under the unforgiving north carolina sun.

oh, how he saw right through you.

wordlessly, the young man lifted the plastic wrap, one more, being the small gooey treat to his lips as he kept his eyes on yours, not missing the way you swallowed thickly as he wiped the corners of his pink lips with his ringed index finger and thumb. you watched pathetically with your lips parted as he licked over his lips, “rafe cameron,” he smiled smugly, extending a hand to you.

there was something dark, yet tantalizing about the young man that towered over you, it even brought an undeniable ache to the bundle of nerves between your plush thighs.

accepting his hand, you batted your dolly lashes at rafe, a warmth growing in your tummy as his large hand enveloped yours in a firm grip, his thumb barely kneading into the soft skin between your forefinger and thumb.

deciding to fall back into your stuck-up persona, you were the first to break the hold between you and race, your eyes squinting a bit as you took one step backwards, “it was a pleasure, rafe,” you sang, clutching the empty tray to be tucked into your side.

spinning on your heels, you could feel rafe staring at the under-curve of your soft ass that peeked beneath the tight knit fabric of your skirt, watching as your hips swayed with each step you took. it wasn’t until you were far enough from the young man that you tugged on your skirt to remain secure around your thighs. internally, you scolded yourself for losing event the slightest bit of your cool. you were too good for him, you were too good for him. way too good.

rafe knew this as well, yet he was always proactive when it came to getting what he wanted — even if he had to get a little dirty.

[chlorinecake]

Rabbit Hole | S.JY

▹ PAIRING: ex fling ! classmate ! jake x f. reader

▹ GENRE: smut, scandalous, college au

▹ SYNOPSIS: In an attempt to escape your past life by running off to a new university, you end up encountering a former lover—one that you never thought you’d see again, and one that you’d soon realize was bad news all along…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, foul language, humiliation kink, kinda dubcon because I need therapy, mentions of anal play, ft. other idols, mild bullying, switch!jake x switch!reader, lots of dialogue, degrading kink, impact play, light bondage, oral sex (m. r), unprotected sex (not for you), hair pulling

▹ WORD COUNT: 5.9k — DAY 7

Monday

Today, your current university was hosting its annual day of orientation for newcomers and recently transferred students.

You found yourself here after being promptly expelled from your previous university, a victim of being framed after someone planted hard drugs in your gym bag—an incident that still leaves you unsure regarding who set you up in the first place…

Fortunately, however, the transition to this new college was seemingly smooth, as many of your closest friends were also attending this institution, speaking in your honor and defense to the enrollment officials countless times.

And so, as a freshly admitted student at a prestigious college located more than 100 miles from your former campus, you were eager to leave your old life and watch it burn behind you.

Though, as your cousin would often quote from one of those shitty Max Payne games he played all the time, You can't run from your past. You will end up running in circles until you fall back down into the same hole you were trying to escape from, only the hole's grown deeper.

Orientation had just ended about forty minutes ago, and like several other students, you decided to treat yourself to a nice coffee at the campus café.

However, you never anticipated running into someone you met along that gruesome 100-mile journey—someone with whom you shared a fleeting romance that you never thought you’d see again.

A fling, you might add, that you met during one of the darkest times of your life.

It was a reckless and foolish decision on your part, honestly… after all, being drunk and horny simultaneously was a combination that rarely ended well—

“I offered to pay you for sex and you said you’d do it for free!” The man shouted back at you with his frustrated brown eyes flickering behind his glasses.

And by now, everyone in the cafeteria was staring at you two—

“No the fuck I didn’t, I don’t even recognize your lying little face!” You clapped back, standing up from your table now as you angrily started shoving all your belongings back into your backpack.

A couple of pencils awkwardly clattered to the floor, but you didn’t bother to retrieve them. They were from Amazon and made your notes from orientation look terrible anyways… cheap fucking ink—

“You were a kinky bitch, too… wanted me to call you mommy while I fingered your asshole in doggystyle and everything.”

“Oh, your pervy little imagination is really running wild today, isn’t it?”

“You keep saying calling me ‘little’ when you could rarely even take me without being prepped!”

“I’m calling you ‘little’ because I don’t even know your fucking name for crying out loud!”

“It’s Jake, and you know that already, so quit playing dumb… you also told me your name when we hooked up in August, but it was probably a fake one since you thought I’d be stupid enough to not remember your face…”

Zipping your last backpack compartment, you sighed at his words, “I’m sorry to hear you’ve mistaken me with someone else, Mr. Jake, but you have to stop with these false claims… I’m not the girl you slept with…”

“Seriously?” he scoffed, shaking his head at you in disappointment as his gaze roamed over your entire frame… “You’re even wearing the same bra…”

His voice trailed off, and you stared at him with wide eyes as if he had just plunged a rusty knife into your miserable gut.

He was right. He was honest… and there was no escaping him now that he had figured you all out.

“I’ll see you in class this week,“ he sighed sullenly before walking off, looking back at you once before fully exiting the shop.

You made a mental note to never let him humiliate you again… even if you couldn’t physically prevent it, you planned to avoid it at all costs…

Tuesday

“He said all of that in public?” Your friend Ningning asked.

“Yes, and in the middle of me ordering my coffee, too…”

“He’s so disrespectful,” Minji added.

“Despicable… he was even shouting it all at the top of his fucking lungs…”

“No one kicked his crazy ass out?”

“No… and I guess that’s a good thing because we both looked fucking insane in that moment…”

“You still haven’t told us why he said all of that to you though,” Juria went on.

“I figured it was probably posted all over the internet by now…”

And you retelling them would only make you relive the incident all over again…

“Well let’s hope not, because a video like that could really ruin your academic standing… even his…”

“I seriously can’t risk that happening again, you guys… there’d be enough proof for them to accuse me this time, too… probably speculating that I was higher than a cloud in that café…”

“Noooo, let’s not even think like that, okay baby?” Juria soothed you with a comforting hand to your back.

“She’s right, everything’s gonna be alright… this’ll just blow over like every other video online,” Minji added with a smile.

“Oh my God…” your friend Ningning exclaimed while looking at her phone.

“What? What is it?”

“You said his name is Jake, right? I just found his Instagram, and his bio has our uni’s initials in it.”

“Yea, I forgot to tell you that part, too… I’ll apparently be seeing him again in English class on Thursday… and every week after that…”

“You need to look into getting transferred to a course with a different professor ASAP,” Minji suggested.

“She can’t. Deadlines already closed for class registration,” Juria added with a pout that mirrored yours.

Though at this point, Ningning was the only one smiling.

“What now, Ning?”

“I mean… y’all are just gonna have to hear me out on this one, but why’s he highkey hella attractive?”

“Give me that,” Minji said while snatching the phone from her, only for her mouth to create an O shape at one of his pictures.

“Relax Ji, you can’t slurp his soul through the screen,” you joked, which only egged them in even further.

“You should give him a second chanceeee,” Minji continued.

“After you just agreed that he’s a disrespectful little cunt?” Juria asked sarcastically.

“Look, I’m just tired of us being the single and hot friend group. It’s not a good match.”

“Mhm… we need a beau to chauffeur us around… buy us designer bags and take us to dinner…” Ningning added.

“Yessss. I’m tired of hookup culture, I need somebody reliable… you should ask him if he has any other hot friends!”

“Ooo, or a brother!”

“You guys are insane,” you chuckle, sitting back in your chair now as you know you only have a few more minutes before class starts.

You didn’t wanna tell your friends what really happened because you didn’t want them to judge you. And although you had a good feeling they wouldn’t, you were still too ashamed to confess… to admit that you had lied to the poor guy, and needlessly to as he wasn’t even trying to get anything from you.

He probably only stopped by to say “Hi” to a familiar face, but you panicked when the truth started to come out…

Wednesday

You were so close to calling in sick and just skipping class for the whole day, simply to avoid bumping into Jake.

But you knew that was a cowardly idea that would only negatively affect your attendance in the long run.

So, after some careful consideration, you came up with your own solution; you planned to wear the most provocative outfit you could find, just to get revenge by teasing him all day.

You wanted him to experience the embarrassment he had put you through when he exposed you in the café… you craved the feeling of being in control of him again.

Though, you knew it wouldn’t be easy because part of you still had a soft spot for him…

He was so caring on all those nights, prioritizing your pleasure while still achieving his own… and then right after, he would ask you about your life, to which you foolishly responded with complete honesty every single time…

You told him about what happened at your old school, about how you were transferring to a new institution, and even details about your family life…

So, when you unexpectedly ran into him on campus that Tuesday, it wasn’t entirely shocking… he had even followed you on Instagram that same day, tagging you and other students under a post entailing his excitement about “finally starting his academic journey on the right track.”

Jake was clearly keeping tabs on you, and you couldn’t fathom what he could possibly want, but you knew it had to be something, and you weren’t gonna sulk over his nice guy act any longer.

Sure, you recall him mentioning his plans to pursue personal projects, but those ambitions have to include you in some way, otherwise, why the fuck would he even be here?

The past version of you would allow such uncertainties to intimidate her, but the new you was ready to stand firm. You had to; it was the only way to change the dynamics of your relationship with him.

Thursday

Straightaway upon reaching the classroom after running up and down the halls for what felt like a second lifetime, you finally made it in.

It didn’t take long for you to spot Jake either, as he was sitting in one of the closest seats he could probably grab.

Nerd, you thought to yourself, making your way towards him with your lace-up Mary Jane heels clicking behind you.

The desks were two-seaters in this class, so you’re lucky enough to have snatched a spot with Jake before some other whore did—

“So you’re not disgusted by my lying little face anymore?” He asked almost immediately after you got settled in the chair, slowly meeting your eyes as if to shame you. Intimidate you.

“Oh I definitely still am,” you corrected, crossing your legs beneath the desk, “I’m simply just sitting next to you…”

“Right… and are you still going by that fake name these days?… What was it again… Raychel with a Y?”

“My real name is ____, alright? Not like you didn’t know that already after stalking me down online—”

He let out a breath through his nose, “I didn’t stalk you, ____—”

“Don’t call me that,” you interrupted, making him look down at his desk for a moment before snickering to himself at your tone.

Your adorably stern voice…

He always found it cute whenever you tried acting like the one who held dominance out of the two of you—

“What shall I call you then?” He asked while smirking, and you resented the way it made your insides flutter.

“Pretty,” you said plainly, and he quirks a brow at you.

“P-pretty?”

“What, do you disagree with that?”

“No,” he clarified, eyes shamelessly checking out your outfit now, “not at all…”

You were wearing a tight white button-up that exposed all your cleavage with a high-pleated skirt and heels.

And if anyone looking didn’t know any better, they’d probably think you were either trying to seduce the professor or get away with wearing borderline lingerie in public—

“There has to be a reason you approached me on orientation,” you began again, reaching in your backpack to pull out your notebooks and stationary, “why?”

“Well,” he started while clearing his throat slightly, “you can’t blame me for wanting to reconnect with an old lover, right?”

“Friend, Jake… we were just friends…”

“Okay, okay, whatever you wanna call it, but,” he whispered, leaning closer to you now as he spoke right below your ear, “wasn’t the sex just amazing… Pretty?”

You angrily swatted his hand from your thigh, to which he snickered at you.

Again.

“Listen, I’m an entirely different woman from the broken one you met two months ago… what we had was nothing,” you whisper-yelled, eyes filled with frustration.

“It certainly doesn’t seem like it was nothing,” Jake said, but his expression had lost its luster as his resting face became blank, and you’re just now realizing that your hand was gripped around his neck tie.

Click click.

The sound of the classrooms front door sounded, craning open with a loud creak to reveal the long-awaited English professor, the bustling classroom gracing her with their full attention.

“Good morning, my bright and wonderful students,” the heavy-set woman announced with glee as she walked up to the chalkboard, “anybody miss me?… No? Just my puppies at home? Okay, let’s get started then… You youngsters can call me Ms. Thompson, by the way!”

God—you sighed within yourself at her attempt to be likable despite her egregious sense of humor—Thursdays were going to be a lot longer than you anticipated…

“Uhm, Britney Spears, why don’t you come up to the board for me real quick,” the teacher said about thirty minutes into the session, and you were so lost in your head, you hadn’t even realized.

“It’s ____, ma’am,” you corrected her, not wanting to have a permanent nickname on the first day of college.

“Could’ve fooled me… anyhow, let’s make our topic of arguments a little more personal now… is there anyone in this room who you’d like to envision as your target offender?”

A smile creeped upon your face at this opportunity, “Yes, actually.”

Your eyes went straight to Jake, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know exactly who you were looking at, especially with the way his face looked now.

“Great! Come on up, Misterrrr…”

“Sim,” he said shyly, standing right beside you at the front of the class.

“Now, state your stance on the following argument, Ms. ____. Today’s topic issss,” her voice trailed off as she fished through her pile of notecards, “The Relevance of the Past in Shaping Identity!”

The classroom air grew thick with anticipation, as mostly everyone in the class had seen they way you two were acting earlier, and the café video that went viral earlier that week.

Though, given your outfit, you were already in the mood for attention today, so this was the perfect topic choice for you to spark a heated debate.

“I just think the past should be left in the past. We shouldn’t let it define who we are today.”

“Could you be more descriptive?” Ms. Thompson urged.

“Well… my view is that we shouldn’t associate any sort of relevance to our past selves and experiences, as we only limit what our future selves can achieve,” you clarified, trying your best to sound confident.

The professor nodded at your words, and you nearly giggled at the look on Jake’s face now.

“Any students in favor of ____’s stance?”

You noticed a little less than half of the classroom raised their hand, with one student in particular extending her hand above everyone elses.

“Yes, Ms. Castillo?”

“I agree with ____’s stance as I believe that humans should treat their lives as the butterfly by means of metamorphosis, where we reflect on our past, reject it, and eventually transform into something more beautiful.”

“This is especially true for victims or survivors, as they might view their past as a hinderance to their growth and finding new identity,” another boy added.

Crossing your arms, you watched as Jake cleared his throat like he always did, right before saying the most annoying shit imaginable.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong, class. The past is crucial to our character development. You can’t just pretend you’re from a different walk of life or… I don’t know, change your hair a little bit and call it an identity swap…”

A murmur of agreement and disagreement rippled through the class up until a voice from the back spoke up.

It was Alex, a student known for their liberal insights. “Um… sorry to interrupt you Jake, that’s offensive to queer and transitioning people. Please use more inclusive language.”

A few students behind Alex snorted at their words, but Jake’s face flushed with realization, and he nodded respectfully.

“You’re 100% right, Alex. I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I just think that our experiences are relevant in shaping who we are, and that no amount of ‘make-believe’ can erase the impact of the past on both our present and future lives…”

Jake is handling this much better than you thought he would’ve, even though he was picking at his nail bed like a madman.

Ms. Thompson is quick to sense the growing tension though, and steps in before the debate lasts the entire class duration.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s remember that we’re here to learn and respect each other’s opinions. ____ and Jake, you both have valid points. The past can be both a burden and a guide, however, it’s ultimately up to each individual to decide how they let it influence their present and future.”

The class fell silent, reflecting on the professor’s words while scribbling copious notes down in their notebooks.

You flashed Jake a glance, one that he couldn’t read at first, but it still made him feel uneasy.

“So uhhh… that’s how you have an opinionated argument, everyone!” The teacher chirped awkwardly, “you may return to your seats, Mr. Sim and Ms. ____… thank you to everyone who participated in this portion… now, as we turn to page 13, we find that…”

Friday

At the end of class yesterday, Ms. Thompson assigned you and Jake to produce a group PowerPoint presentation by the following week, and you weren’t dreading it as much as you could have.

Your little tough and mean girl act seemed to have successfully scared Jake into some submission towards you… plus, you were having way too much fun teasing him everyday to turn down an opportunity to hang with him one on one.

You both were currently sitting in the campus’s private library to do research on your topic. It was relatively late in the day, so no one was there except you two.

By now, you had already punked Jake into bringing you coffee from the café that was literally a 20 minute walk away, and into agreeing that he’d produce most of the project on his own, but your fun with him hadn’t ended just yet.

Sad as it sounds, he just looked too cute while reading to himself in the grand brown chair across from you… you wouldn’t dare leave him there to study in peace, not while you were in the mood for chaos.

“Jakeyyy~” your voice sang with a cloyingly sweet melody, making his face flush with embarrassment behind his thick-framed glasses at the nickname.

Closing the book he was reading, Jake walked over to where you sat with your foot extended before him, a messy cluster of shoe strings dangling at your ankles.

“A little help here?” You continued, subtly squishing your breasts together with your arms while looking into his eyes.

“Sure,” is all he says as a small smile overtakes his feature. Kneeling down obediently before you, he took your ankle into his grasp, getting to work at re-tying the shoelace for you.

“Thanks,” you say, leaning forward to ruffle his hair as he taps your other foot, signaling for you to lift it so he can re-tie the lace there it as well.

“I didn’t just call you over here to tie my shoes though, Jake,” you whisper, drawing his gaze from your shoes and up to your eyes.

He holds back a sigh, and his chest expands because of it, “What else is it that you want then, ____—“

“Pretty,” you corrected him, moving your foot from his grasp only to let your leg fall, gently pressing the weight of your foot into his bulge, “we talked about this yesterday, Jake… you will never address me by my first name, understood?… Or is that too much to ask?”

Jake felt his whole stomach tense up at the feeling of your foot pressing into his groin, and he tried his best to get a solid answer out, knowing that prolonged silence would only bother you further.

“N-no,” he breathes out shakily, barely meeting your gaze now as the temperature in his face became hotter and hotter, with a mix of his own arousal, embarrassment, and anger, “I u-understand, Pretty…”

You let yourself smile at his compliance, releasing the pressure from your foot in his lap.

“So pathetic,” you announced, watching as he caught his breath on the ground, “I can get you to do anything for me, can’t I Jake?…”

He’s silent for a moment, making you feel impatient now that he was resisting all of a sudden.

“Jakey, I asked you a question—”

“And you really shouldn’t talk to me like that unless you want some sense fucked into you,” he retorted, making your eyes widen with genuine shock at his sudden boldness.

“Excuse me?” You asked with a scoff, but your voice gets lost in the sound of him getting up from the floor, standing over you, caging you beneath his frame in a way that intimidates you.

Jake had been swallowing his pride with you for long enough, and wasn’t gonna let another day pass without putting you in your place.

“I’ve been getting real sick of you treating me like this, y’know that ____?”

But before you can even think to answer, he’s reaching for the cup of coffee he fetched for you earlier and bringing it to your mouth, a ring of condensation glistening on the desk.

Trying to maintain your dominance, you let out a feigned laugh of amusement that Jake is quick to cut off with his stern words.

“Jake, what is this, huh?” You asked, giving him a fed up look even though your heartbeat was beating faster than the speed of light below his dark gaze.

“Drink it, ____….” He orders with a deep voice, eyes becoming so dark now that you can’t even bring yourself to refuse.

And you’re impossibly annoyed, too… by the way he’s very intentionally using your real name while simultaneously making you feel as feeble as a fairy.

Hesitantly bringing the cup to your mouth, it doesn’t take long before Jake smacks the coffee out of your hand, leaving the cold liquid to spill all over you.

“Jake, what the fuck?!” You shouted, shivering as the caramel-colored liquid trickled into all the intimate crevices of your body.

“How embarrassing,” he said, shaking his head, “making such a mess of yourself in front of me…”

Balling your fists, you look him dead in the eyes as you shout, “That was all you’re doing, you stupid fucking clutz- JAKE, s-stop that!” Your voice cracked at the feeling of his hand smacking you across the face now, surely leaving a cut in your lip as he soon went to squish your lips together into an odd shape, maintaining a painful grip.

“If only your brain was as big as your tits,” he clicked his teeth, wearing a somewhat neutral facial expression at first until a smirk started tugging at the corner of his lips…

“And now you’re crying?” He scoffs, almost as if both annoyed and amused by the moisture forming at the beds of your eyes.

During all this though, your mind was in a complete haze, not being able to wrap your head around how innocent he still looked while talking to you like this…

Hell, even his cheeks were still blushing, and you could tell he was getting harder behind his pants.

Jake caught onto your staring though, swallowing the urge to just fuck you right then and there.

“Take off your top,” he demanded, releasing your face from his grip and taking a few steps back, “I can’t believe you even want to be called ‘pretty’ while wearing such a filthy thing…”

“Who cares? You still got hard just from looking at me,” you jabbed back through a wobbly voice given your tears.

That’s when a feeling of chills ran up and down your skin, and it’s hard to keep up the tough girl act once Jake started unbuckling the belt he wore, keeping an intense eye contact with you the entire time.

“Just like old times,” he said, making your organs irk at how easily you found yourself falling down the same rabbit hole with him, but things were far too gone to turn back now. You complied with his words, sliding your top over your head and exposing yourself now, the swell of your breasts looking so delightful while cupped in the lace of your bra.

“You’re making this too easy for me,” he grinned, tossing his belt to the floor with a clink before closing the space between you both, still standing up as he slides his fingers against your scalp, gently gripping the hair.

But it feels so good that you almost purr at the contact, even though his behavior was a bit unsettling to you.

That’s when he landed another smack to your face, snickering at how loud you winced given the sudden shock of sensations.

“God, what the hell is wrong with you?” You yell at him, trying to escape his daunting frame but you have no chance against his strength, especially not while sitting down in a chair… “You’re a freak, Jake!”

You kept wrestling beneath him, provoking him to yank your arm harshly and pull you out of the chair and onto the floor, your bare knees hitting the floor with a thud.

“And you’re a little bitch,” he bit back, handling your body with ease as he situates you before him on your knees, taking your spot in the chair and spreading his legs.

And his belt isn’t too far from him now either, compelling him to reach down for it and use it to secure one of your wrists to the chair before finally shimmying his pants down.

So lost in your thoughts, you watch with a mix of fear, disgust, and anticipation at the erectness hiding behind his boxers, just as his taunting voice resounds again.

“C’mon, ____… it’s about time you make good use of that big mouth of yours…”

With teary eyes, you watch as his full length slips out, smacking against his abdomen as the burning in your restrained wrist feels worse now.

Everything feels worse now… you had never felt so humiliated in your entire life.

He tapped the tip of his cock against your lips, using a thumb at your jaw to pry your mouth open and push himself in.

And as much as you didn’t wanna admit it, you were enjoying this a lot more than expected…

You had always preferred men who were more on the submissive side, and Jake, being a nerdy introvert, was no exception to that craving.

However, you didn’t mind him getting a little rough with you either, and perhaps that’s why you felt ashamed for it… you felt vulnerable with the idea of admitting you liked being someone else’s play thing…

“Stroke me like you used to, ____… ‘atta girl,” he groaned, watching with pleasure as you let your free hand find his shaft, stroking the bass as he kept your mouth secured around the tip.

And as embarrassing as it sounds, you felt yourself getting wet just from sucking him off, the sounds of your own throat gurgling around his length being a turn on for the both of you.

“I bet you still haven’t even told your friends about what really happened between me and you, huh? Imagine if they knew your lips liked sucking my cock just as much as they liked lying…” he slithered, keeping your head angled back just enough for him to get a full look at your face while you took him in your mouth.

Jake soon catches onto the way you’re closing your thighs together as tears continue to well in your eyes, and he lets himself snicker at how needy and pathetic you looked before him...

“What is it, Pretty? Hm? Don’t want your friends to find out about how much of a raging cock-slut you are?”

You moaned softly as he gently pulled your head from around him, and a string of your own saliva and his precum keeps you two connected as he finally loosens the belt around your wrist.

“When’d you get so mean, Jake?” You asked weakly, voice a bit raspy now after taking him in your mouth.

He almost couldn’t look you straight in the eye after asking that, but he had to keep his act going… he had to put you in your place—

“I only get this way when I have to,” he practically whispered, and part of you couldn’t even get annoyed with him for it.

You felt the same just a few moments ago, and you’re just now realizing how much you and Jake really have in common—

“Get up,” he ordered, and you listened, standing on shaky legs as he pulled your panties down, letting them rest at your ankles as he stood up to meet you.

Without speaking, he simply pointed at the chair he was just sitting in, and you’re given the opportunity to choose the position.

You decide to get back on your knees, bend over the chair, and stick your bare ass out for him, and he snickered at the sight, kneeling down himself now.

He ran a hand over the curve of your hip before landing a hard smack there, his own cock twitching every time you winced.

After this, he wastes no time in gliding his cock between your folds, right before plunging his tip into your sloppy cunt and groaning at the feeling.

“Fuck~,” he cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself inside you, “has it really been so long that even your pussy’s gotten tighter?”

“Well your tiny cock definitely didn’t get any bigger- nghh~…,” you whined through a bitten lip, trying to suppress your moaning as he started to bottom out, over and over again.

“And here I was thinking you’d actually shut up for once,” he sighed, but his voice was clearly being affected by the way you felt around him.

He had been missing this… all of it, and not even just the sex. Jake wanted more to come out of your relationship with him, but if this is how you wanted to play, so be it—he still got something good out of it.

You can’t remember what you were going to say, but your thoughts were harshly cut by the feeling of his hand pulling you up by your throat and holding you close to his body.

“Let’s see… do you still squirm while having your tits touched? Do you still squirt just from the sound of my voice?” He whispered, and your breath was so restricted that all you could do was pant pathetically.

His released his grip pretty quickly though, only for his hands to find your breasts and fondle with them as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

“J-Jake,” your voice bobbled, given the strong impact of his hips behind you, “d-don’t you fucking dare…”

“What do you mean, Pretty?” He asked, snickering now at the way your thighs trembled briefly, “you’re a flashy little bitch, but that doesn’t mean I can read your mind…”

You groaned at his words, feeling lightheaded now that his tip was brushing up against your cervix.

“Don’t… fuckkk~… don’t tell anyone about this…”

“Which part of this, hm?” He asked knowingly, “the part where I made you cry or the part where I finish inside you?”

“N-not any of it, just- please…” your words slurred, and your heart started to ache just as much as your core with a mix of worry and desperation.

Of course, you were enjoying every part of this, but you didn’t wanna face the embarrassment that’d come with it if anyone found out…

Just imagine it… how down bad must you be to (1) let a guy hit it after treating you like shit, and (2) in the middle of the campus library of all places?

He’s slamming into you so hard and fast that you lost track of your thoughts again, and the squelching sounds coming from the two of you only adds to the warmth growing in your faces—

“That’s really what you want? Huh?” Jake asked with a low growl to his voice, and all you can reply with is a string of whiny yes’s.

“Beg for it louder,” he demanded, “beg for me to keep fucking you like a good little slut…”

And you did, letting your hips bounce to a rythme with his thrusts as your high drew closer and closer to approaching.

“P-please, Jake! I’ll do anything! I’ll be a g-good cock-slut just for you if that’s what you want… I-I’ll even let you cum in me,” you stammered, only for your pleading lips to trail off as a symphony of moans ripped through your body, his harsh hand smacking your ass one more before holding you in place by a handful of your hair.

“Yea, Pretty? Want me to fill your juicy pussy up with my cum? Gonna let me fuck it back into you nice and slow? Yea?” He rambled breathlessly, panting in place of groaning so he could get his words out better.

Crying out another yes, Jake’s hip plummeted into you as hard as they could, your breasts rocking back and forth with the force until you finally felt it; your walls pulling him in as his first spurt made you shiver, and then his second spurt made you climax.

“Awww, fuck!” You whimpered, shaking beneath him as he rode out his high inside you.

It didn’t take long for him to stand up, though, and just in time to pull up his pants and readjust your panties before the library doors creaked open as a new soul joined the space.

It was a girl. You could tell me the gentle hums that bumped from her throat, echoing off of the shelves of books.

“____! Minji said I might find you studying here, so I came to check since you’ve been hiding from us… And don’t even think about scolding me for yelling in here!” The voice called out, and you immediately knew it was Juria from her accent.

She had just came back from class to return a few books that she borrowed earlier, and your heart never pumped as fast as it did when Jake landed a harsh smack to your clothed cunt while holding you in place, even though you tried squirming away.

Everything in you was fighting to avoid being caught like this, and even more so because Juria was literally 30ft away from you two.

When she finally made her way over, though, the poor girl nearly dropped the stack of books she was holding, delicate eyebrows furrowing behind her silky bangs as her lips asked the words, “What on earth happened over here?”

You were sitting beside a now standing Jake with your cold ass right against the tile floor as you lazily slumped over the reading chair, being too fucked out to bother moving.

Your hair was a mess atop your head and your outfit was totally disarrayed, foggy mascara smudged beneath your swollen eyes and your whole body reeking of bittersweet aromas.

Juria couldn’t put a finger on it, but she knew something had happened. Something off…

“She spilled coffee all over herself…” Jake eventually answered, an aura of emptiness being present in both his expression and tone… an eeriness that made both you and Juria tremble in the knees…

From that moment, he simply walked past you both, looking back only once before leaving… he glanced at you first before looking Juria straight in the eye, his expression only now softening as one last line escaped his venomous lips…

“Such a silly girl, isn’t she?…”

⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, which actually concludes DAY 7 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

@crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg

@d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh

[canihaveacalmtime]

What's the experience growing up with a playboy and a spoiled brat? You will them wear a very different personality in front of other people and take it off when you three go hangout together.

Getting related to them is already tiring enough but being their childhood friend? You must tolerate them a lot, thats how others think but in reality, you really cherish your friends as they have been there with you ever since you learn how to speak and walk.

But ever since you three enter college, they have.. changed, not a lot but it's very noticeable because they begin to avoid you. Like, avoid avoid you, they do talk and make conversation with you but right after the conversation ends, they leave immediately. Do you feel hurt or sad? Of course you do, you even start to questioning yourself what you did wrong.

Turns out you did nothing wrong, the problem isn't even because of you, it's because of them.

It's because now that the size gap between them and you have significant change with you look completely smaller than them as they now look much bigger than you. Whenever they look at you or stand next to to you, to simply put it, they can not stop their dirty minds or get those images of you looking weak on the bed off of their minds.

For you, you just kinda accept the fact that your relationship with them is probably wittering away while as for them, they are thinking about how they going to express their feelings for you because they just... can't take it anymore.

-----------

One late night, Isaac (the play boy) and Evelyn (the spoiled brat) have just returned from the bar after probably hitting up with some newcomers, what they didn't expect to see is the TV still running and a small sleeping figure laying on the couch.

"(Y/N) looks so cute when they're letting all their guards down, huh.."

Evelyn said while playing with your hair and caressing your cheeks, Isaac slowly and carefully lift you up in a bridal style, bringing you back into your room and lay you down on the bed.

"I wish we could just lock them up somewhere for ourselves."

"Wow, what a crazy thought of yours, sac. But I guess I also want to do something like that, too."

They standing there, silently, by the sleeping figure on the bed when suddenly Evelyn climbs onto your bed and start kissing you. Isaac was shocked as he stands there, dead in place until he also climbs onto the bed as he holds your back and give you some bite marks on your neck.

Feeling uncomfortable, you open your eyes and immediately make eyes contact with Evelyn, Isaac also noticed as you three just suddenly froze in place like they just got caught in a bad act and you are just.. shocked.

"Guys- what are you two d-"

You were pushed down onto the bed with both of your hands tied with a ribbon, without time to even react to what just happened, you are force kiss again but this time by Isaac as Evelyn begin playing with your nipples.

Isaac let go of the kiss and the moment he sees your face all red, tears rolling down on your cheeks and the mess he made? The urge to ruin you is never so hard to resist like now and Evelyn seems to notice the signs too as she let go of you, making you fall down on the bed due to dizziness but the moment you see them begin taking their clothes off, you knew that running is your only option left, before you can even make a run for it, you are pinned back on the bed as you look at your friends in fear, tears already falling, while they look back at you with full of lust in their eyes.

"Maybe if you weren't so naive, we'd have ruined you long ago, (nickname)."

"Don't worry, we'll be as gentle as possible."

[zenlesszonezero]

[wolken-himmel]

In which (Y/n) tells the dorm leaders that they're the most handsome person in Twisted Wonderland.

What was meant as an April Fool's joke somehow turns Night Raven College into a battlefield.

Idea by anon.

"Why did you go around and tell the dorm leaders out of all people that they're the most handsome person in the world? Why, (Y/n)?"

Deuce paced back and forth between the fire place and the couch of Ramshackle's living room, his hands crossed behind back. The frown on his face deepened even more when he found you lazily lounging on a nearby recliner.

"I thought it would be funny to see everyone's reaction!" you said and laughed to yourself. "And actually, seeing Riddle turn as red as his hair was hilarious. Also, you should have heard Idia's screaming through the tablet."

Ace's lips quirked upwards into a grin. "Okay, that does sound funny."

"Quit the yapping," Grim yelled from the other side of the living room. He had a few wooden boards in his arms and a hammer balanced on top. "I need help barricading the windows."

"Right." A hum of exasperation escaped Deuce's lips while he pointed into the direction where all the commotion was coming from. The noise must have originated from the main building, and the fact that it was still audible in the Ramshackle mansion was incredibly concerning. "I don't think you realise how dire the situation is out there."

"Did someone call me?" a newcomer suddenly asked.

All four of you whirled around to find Crowley standing by the entrance to the living room. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest. Without allowing you any time to react to his sudden appearance, he rushed over to your side with wide steps. His heavy shadow loomed over you.

"Oh, it's just you, Headmaster," you began and sat up. "How are you—"

He interrupted you with a dramatic sigh. "You truly offend me, my darling child." Without further explanation, he put his hand to his forehead and sank into the couch, right next to you.

"What?" You sat up straight. "What have I done now?"

"You go around telling the dorm leaders that they're the most handsome person in the world! But you forgot about me?" A playfully offended frown decorated his face. When the resident ghosts dared to peek around the corner in curiosity, he addressed them immediately, "Did the prefect also compliment you three?"

"Of course!" the ghost in the middle exclaimed dreamily. His eyes practically took the shape of hearts when he put his hands to his chest. "My heart began beating so quickly, I thought I had come back from the dead. The prefect truly has a way with charming people, dead or alive."

His reply had the headmaster sink into the cushions of his seat even further. "Oh, how you wound me..."

Deuce furrowed his eyebrows in innocent confusion. "Is that why you came here, Headmaster?"

At his words, Crowley lazily rose to his feet again and straightened his cloak. "Partly, yes." He cleared his throat, although he sent you one last glare before moving on, "I also came because the entire campus is a warzone. The dorms have decided to band together and fight against each other to defend their leader's honour. Everyone thinks the others are lying."

"See?" Grim pointed to the windows he had already barricaded. "And you think I'm the one overreacting?"

The volume of his voice had you rolling your eyes. "Calm down, everyone." Then, you finally summoned the willpower to rise to your feet. "Can't I just talk to them?"

"You must, since you are the perpetrator."

A rush of annoyance came over you. The constant noise from the main building caused a headache to form. You rubbed the bridge of your nose. "It was just an April Fool's joke... I didn't think anyone would take it this seriously," you muttered in resignation. "These boys... Fine, I'll go out and clear things up."

Grim stopped you before you could leave the living room. His large blue eyes shone meaningfully. "Henchhuman, just in case you don't return, I wanted to tell you that..." he trailed off and took your hand into his paws. "I'll be taking your favourite scarf! You won't need it anymore, right?"

At once, you ripped your hands out of his grasp. "You're an idiot, Grim," you grumbled and simply walked around him to exit the building.

Deuce came rushing after you. "We'll accompany you, (Y/n). That's what friends are there for."

"Really? Do we have to?" Ace asked with raised eyebrows. He seemed reluctant, still remaining by the fire place where he had last stopped pacing. But even he wasn't immune to Deuce's pressing gaze, and with the headmaster joining in, he was done for. Begrudingly throwing his hands into the air, he joined your side. "Fine..."

"I'll stay here," Grim yelled after the three of you, "to make sure they don't break in and steal my tuna."

"They're in the Hall of Mirrors. Please stop them before they destroy my prized mirrors!"

°

°

°

"I knew you were a schemer, Azul. But I didn't take you for a liar."

"You call me a liar, Riddle? Me and my business are very much trustworthy. The same couldn't be said about you, though."

You arrived in the Hall of Mirrors not a second too late. The place was packed to the brim with students from every dorm. Just blinking once had been enough to lose track of Ace and Deuce. And by now, you had given up on finding them in this huge mass of people. You would have never thought that you would one day see so many people fit into this hall. But here you were, struggling to make your presence known with the loud and large crowd.

You could already see most of the dorm leaders facing off against each other in the very middle, where the students had formed a pit. But none of them seemed to hear your voice over all the murmuring.

"Come on, let's get this over with quickly," Leona said and rolled his eyes. "As soon as we have established that you're all in the wrong, I can go back to doing something more productive, such as napping."

"Guys, why can't we all be the most handsome person in the world together? I'd be open to sharing the title," Kalim said in worry when he noticed how everyone's voice dripped with malice.

"As a matter of fact, 'most handsome' is the superlative form and implies that the title is exclusively reserved for one person only." Everyone's eyes solely lay on Malleus as he spoke, his deep and calm voice bouncing off the walls to reach your ears. The air turned cold out of a sudden, and nobody dared to whisper even a single word — not even you.

But Rook dared to cut through the tangible air with his cheery voice. "Oh, a fight for beauty! This battle will be legendary!" he exclaimed in excitement, as if he had been born for this very moment. "I will gladly defend your honour, Vil."

His dorm leader didn't seem to reciprocate his enthusiasm, however. "Quit it, Rook. We all know that the prefect's compliment for all of us was in mere vain — a joke to gauge our reaction," Vil said and flicked his wrist elegantly. "Tell everyone to return to whatever they were doing previously, I have more important matters to attend to."

"Ortho, can you get me more popcorn—" a voice came from the floating tablet in the first row. An embrassed shriek escaped its speakers once everyone turned their attention to it. "Oh, I forgot to mute... Sorry, everyone." And on cue, the speakers went silent.

An awkward cough went through the crowd, but the dorm leaders quickly returned to facing off against each other.

"So, shall we begin?"

"I suppose."

Just as one was about to make the first move, you managed to stumble into the middle of the pit. "No, stop it!" you yelled at the top of your lungs.

A round of gasps went through the crowd, and everyone's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden arrival. Vil was the only exception. "Ah, the prefect has arrived," the dorm leader drawled. Knowing chuckles escaped his perfectly painted lips. "Now, would you mind enlightening the others about your little joke?"

"Right, tell the others who you really think is the most handsome."

"Yes, I want to see the grins wiped off their faces."

You hated yourself after having gazed upon their expectant faces. Most of them wore a pair of puppy eyes that gleamed brightly with eagerness. Unable to face them, you lowered your gaze in shame. "Actually, I told every one of you that you were the most handsome person in Twisted Wonderland." Nervous chuckles escaped your lips when the entire hall went deadly silent. You raised your hands into the air defensively. "Please, it was just a joke. Today is April Fool's, guys."

Riddle clicked his tongue. "A punishment for unfunny jokes is in order."

"You hurt our feelings, (Y/n)!" Kalim cried out and put his hands on his hips. When Jamil handed him a handkerchief, the dorm leader blew his nose loudly.

An unreadable smile appeared on Azul's face. "Perhaps it is time we banded together," he suggested, as if negotiating for a contract.

Your smile turned more nervous by the second, especially when they began to circle you. "Guys? It was kinda funny, don't you think?" you said, suddenly unable to hold in your laughter anymore. "Your reactions were priceless."

"Get the prefect!" everyone yelled at once.

[lovelytsunoda]

common people // mercedes amg (v)

summary: baby merc has a magical brush with love at a college event....too bad she doesn't get his name, contact information or any way to ever see him again

pairing: platonic!mercedes amg x intern!female!reader

author's note: i'm back, bitches! y'all should know i use this series as a coping mechanism for some of the things going on in my life....just putting that out there. that's why it sometimes seems like baby merc is just floundering, but today, it's her world and we're just living in it.

"nobody is going to be at this thing anyways since its so close to exams, so don't even worry that you can't make it." baby merc laughs, turning down her radio as she tries to reverse into a parking spot at her college. "the parking lot is packed though, must be lots of late classes today."

on the other end of the phone line, doriane pin laughs. "i'm sorry still! we've only got a few more days to hang out before i have to go to zandvoort for more academy testing."

"listen, if a mercedes sponsored driver can win anything at this point, i will be happy about it because or car is shit with a capital 's'." she paused for a moment. "please don't let toto know i said that."

doriane laughed gleefully. since the addition of the f1 academy driver to mercedes’ army of teenagers and young adults, each one mentored by toto and Susie themselves, y/n and doriane had become close friends. closer than friends, almost. it was nice to go to work and be around another girl her own age for once.

she stepped out of the aging, secondhand mercedes she drove, locking the car door and tucking her keys into her pocket as she crossed the lot to the student centre. there were dozens of college students milling about, despite all the on-site food options having closed half an hour ago.

the student center smelled like fresh paint when she opened the door, a serene expression in her face as she wandered into the common room, delighted to see the electric fireplace going, the room filed with round tables full of canvases and acrylic.

the college paint nights had always been her happy place. no expectations, a relaxed environment. an instructor who didn’t care if you followed her instructions to the ‘t’ (or at all). it was a welcome break from all of the other crap going on in her life.

she took her usual spot near the front, donning the dollar store apron hung over the back of the chair and settling in front of the canvas, a chill britpop playlist humming from the in-ceiling speaker set.

the group had been painting happily for ages when he wandered in. with the blended background almost done, she looked up from her conversation with the blonde girl next to her to catch him tentatively standing in the doorway.

his hair was messy, flopping around his face. he had airpods in, and she could faintly hear the riff of a rolling stones song. his sweater read ‘elevating devices.’ he was a trades boy.

“do you have room for one more?” he asked, looking over at olive, the program leader.

“of course!” olive grinned, caught in the middle of doing a blending demonstration on her forearm. “come on in, I can get you caught up.”

she felt her heart skip a beat when she realized that the only empty spot in the room was behind her. the boy smiled at her as he sat down, clumsily slipping into the gingham apron. it looked out of place with his hoodie and sweatpants, and the visual made her smile.

could this be it? the day something in her love life finally went right?

all throughout the paint night, since she was two steps ahead of everyone else (you go to every one of these things, you begin to pick up the tips and tricks of the trade), she found that she kept looking back at the newcomer, and admiring the look of concentration etched onto his face.

whatever happens, happens.

whatever happens, happens.

you did not come here to meet boys, you came here for you.

but goddamn it, he was so cute! and he painted! he was perfect! hell, he listened to the goddamn rolling stones!

it was the end of the night, 'pulp' playing on the speakers as the last few painters began to pack up.

"excuse me?" she felt a hand tap her shoulder, and she turned around from where she was repacking her primark purse to face the boy in the lifting devices sweater.

she hoped he couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest.

"what are we supposed to do with these?" he asked, holding up one of olive's easels.

"they fold up." she said quietly, almost shyly as she took the metal stand from his hands. "like this. i come here all the time, helping olive pack up is the least i can do."

"nice." he said sheepishly, reaching for his own painting. "this was my first time."

"that's pretty good for your first try." she complimented, picking up her own canvas, as well as her car keys.

"can i walk you out?' the boy asked, gesturing towards the door.

"sure." she smiled, blush rising on her cheeks. she turned, flagging olive down and hoping the boy wouldn't notice. due to her frequent attendance at the paint parties, olive an dher had become fast friends, and she didn't miss the way the painter flashed her a thumbs up and suggestive wink as the pair left the student center.

"so, you a fan of the stones? i could hear them playing from your headphones when you walked in." she asked, trying to start a conversation, and hoping that he somehow found her interesting.

"a fairly recent one." he laughed, free hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

sweatpants. we can work on that. three months dating me, she thought, and i can get you into a snazzy pair of jeans.

"i took a history course on the british invasion as an elective. it's all about the stones, the beatles, the who. any british band with 'the' in the name, really. the kinks are my favourite."

"awesome. my dad is a big jagger fan. i grew up singing 'you can't always get what you want' when other kids my age were singing 'apple bottom jeans'."

god, she loved the guy already.

"what are you studying?"

"law. i have my last final exam tomorrow, and i'm actually doing some part-time, minimum wage office work for a formula one team. legally, i can't tell you what exactly i'm doing." she grinned. "well. i could. but then i'd have to kill you."

she'd been waiting her whole life to say that.

"that's awesome." worlds were burned for a smile like the one this guy had. it was dangerous just how strongly she felt after barely talking to him. "i doubt my chosen career path will land me anywhere near as exciting as an f1 team. but who knows, i might be paid the big bucks to fix a service elevator in their building."

"well, this is me." she frowned, pointing in the direction of her parking lot. why did she feel so strongly about leaving a guy she didn't even know? "it was nice painting with you. you should come to another one in september."

"yeah, maybe i will. are you going to the one at the other campus tomorrow? i might try and make it, since my classes are over at that campus anyways."

"i can't, it's right in the middle of my exam." but god did she wish she could. if she wasn't so scared of failing, she'd skip the exam just for him.

"right, right." he nodded, gesturing towards the residency building behind him. "this is me. it was nice talking to you."

"you too." she smiled sheepishly, turning around and beginning the walk to her car.

she resisted the urge to look back, worried that it would be followed by something potentially foolish, like an 'aren't you going to kiss me', or an invitation to get coffee (that he could then very well turn down).

it wasn't until she was back in her car, heat turned on and classic rock playing, that she realized that he might have very well been into her, and she didn't even get his name.

"shit!"

__________________

"i'm telling you, doriane, this was my rom-com moment waiting to happen and i blew it!" she groaned, face in hands as she sat around the round table in the break room, recounting her woes to not just her closest colleagues, but those she considered to be her friends as well.

she had always loved the break room. it was light and airy, painted in white with bamboo furniture and a wall of windows. sometimes, she brought her work laptop in there and worked at one of the green couches in the corner.

"you were so close!" doriane commiserated with her, placing one hand over hers. "babes, you got this. you'll be ready for the next stud who comes along."

across the table, frederik vesti hid his grin behind his cup of coffee. "hey, maybe you dodged a bullet. he could have been a serial killer. or worse, a premier league fan."

doriane snorted, and ungraceful sound, yet one that was full of love. "yeah right."

she had been over the situation millions of times since the she'd gotten back in her car, and she just could not figure out why it had never occurred to her to get the boy's name, or to offer up her own.

"eh, you'll get the next one." george shrugged, placing a hand on her shoulder as he moved to stand behind the young intern. "just look at me and carmen. it took me a very long time to find someone like her. she'd one of a kind, that woman. i'm gonna marry her someday."

"better get cracking on that one, george old boy." frederik laughed. "i want your seat, if the kid doesn't beat me there."

"they're not putting kimi in an f1 seat." doriane argued. "its way too soon."

"i dunno, bearman did a really good job with that ferrari. if he's the blueprint, toto will just follow what his mates are doing so it looks like he's keeping with the times."

the seat conversation was beginning to make her nervous, and she could feel the hives rising on her arms as she tried to remind herself that lewis leaving mercedes had nothing to do with her.

it was the timing of his decision, announcing he was leaving so soon after she felt like she had truly made a home at brackley. but it made sense. a man like lewis needed to go somewhere that could give him the car he needed to take home that eighth championship, and currently, it wasn't looking like that was going to happen here.

that didn't change the fact that it stung. that in a way, it felt like lewis was leaving her.

"y/n, do you know who toto's been talking to about the second seat?" geroge asked, raising an eyebrow as he blew on his tea, steam rising onto his pale face. pair that with the cardigan he was wearing, and he was starting to look like someone's geriatric grandfather (and she said that with all the love in her heart that she had to give)

y/n did know. legal had been very busy organizing and prepping meetings, as well as drawing up draft contracts and disclosure agreements.

but a non-disclosure agreement worked both ways. and, since she liked fucking with george, he wasn't getting a proper answer.

she grinned, sipping the last of her hot chocolate "no can do. signed an nda. expressly forbids me from selling the gossip to the press, or from telling nosy british boys."

"that's not fair! you're british as well!" george whined. "come on, it affects me as well."

y/n laughed, appreciating the light air that george brought to the conversation, instead of making it a somber affair about lewis' departure. "oh, would you look at the time. my break is over, and i now need to go track down some engineers and get them to swear affidavits."

fred looked at her with a confused glace, his head cocked to the side like a golden retriever puppy. "why? who's taking us to court?"

"nobody is suing us. it's time to make our cost cap submissions to the fia, and the engineers need to swear that they're telling the truth."

"so you can tell us about that, but not about contract talks?" george tried one last time to get an answer from her as she packed up her tote, bag, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her knuckles.

"nice try. good luck on the sim this afternoon, vesti over here says its not pretty."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @userlando @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @arshiyuh

[rey-129-fan]

Well, it's been a while since I've posted any fanfic... Let's change that.

Good news! I'm not dead! My brain did try to get me to do things that could unalive myself for a bit, and then I lost nearly an entire side of my family over the span of 3 years, but I'm still here and still kicking! And I have two new puppies who are adorable and so loving.

Now for this story, this is inspired by a few posts I saw on @theglamorousferal, mostly the one about Amity Parkers going to college in Gotham and buying a hotel (I'm making it a co-op student house, but I've never lived in one, so if something's unacceptably wrong, tell me, if not, artistic license), but also the one where our main Trio buy a building to set up shop there, and wind up adopted my Jason (I swear, I saw that post after I wrote the first chapter, but it just fit so well).

***

Honestly, Amity Park was weird long before the Fentons moved there- the original settlers named the nearby lake Eerie, and it wasn’t after the Great Lake.  It’s just that before the Fentons’ machine punched a hole through reality and created a permanent doorway to the land of spirits and ghosts, the weirdness was not as blatant.

Prior to that, Amity Parkers were some of the few that could move to Gotham without suffering a breakdown that was common for new arrivals.  Now there was a slight dip in newcomers for about a decade or two after the Bat made his debut and then the crazies that followed him, but then Amity Parkers got used to the spirits of the dead wandering around following the aforementioned punching through reality.

All this to say that Gotham Universities were a rather common destination for young Amity Park adults seeking higher education.

Now because of this, there were always apartments advertising themselves for people from the small town.  They, after all, tended to not have a breakdown after their fifth rogue attack and just pack up and leave halfway through their lease.  But it got very annoying having to sift through all the advertisements when looking for a place to stay- something Danny Fenton saw his older sister go through when she got in to Gotham City University.  The boy then shared what he was witnessing with his two best friends- Tucker Foley and Sam Manson.  Tucker offered to help filter out the spam, which Danny’s sister Jazz thanked him for but turned down.  Sam… Sam instead got thinking.

Sam had been to Gotham a few times in her life.  She had an idea of the areas closest to the schools and how much those should cost.  And looking at the letters Jazz was getting, the offers were a little too high for a regular college student to afford.  Sam was also familiar with how many hotels were not being used in Gotham- people building them in hopes tourists would come to stay while visiting the East Coast, tourists that could not be convinced to visit due to the high crime rate and the lack of activities or places of interest in the city itself.

She quickly went to work, looking in to these empty hotels.  She was rather upset by their numbers and put together a spreadsheet of them, with details like number of rooms, any amenities they may have, and nearby landmarks.  She then grabbed her two dorks and marched to Casper High’s Community Outreach director.

Now Sam’s presentation raised a few eyebrows, mostly because it was in a completely different state, but Sam shot back that because of the efforts to incorporate the town’s new ghostly residents and provide them with helpful ways to feed their obsessions- efforts led by the Fenton family- Amity Park had very few homeless, and those that were had a huge community safety net to help them get back on their feet.  Additionally, with how many people moved between the city and the town, helping the city could be argued to also be helping the town.

The Outreach Director just sighed and gave Same the green light to at least draft and send out a proposal to the powers that be in Gotham, saying that there wasn’t much that could be done before they got backing and approval.  Sam thanked them before leaving, Danny and Tucker trailing behind.

She was back the next day with a draft of her proposal and a list of who to send it to.

***

Since returning from the dead in the eyes of the public, Jason Todd was often contacted by groups trying to use the Wayne fortune to fund their own personal projects.  They thought Jason would be the easiest to con- sorry, persuade- since he was a former street kid unlike the rest of his family.  Thus surely he would know just how much this new building with low income housing would help the people of Gotham- it even came with a pool and gym!

Yeah, he did know how much the people of Gotham needed housing, but $2K a month was not affordable when you’re barely making $30K a year!  Oh and the pool and gym were only available for those who could shell out an additional $2K a month.  Jason knows, he read the whole document carefully.

God, sometimes it was hard to tell who was worse, the psychos in Blackgate or real estate investors.  And sadly, he couldn’t just pop a bullet in their heads and be done with it because 1) it would raise too many questions and 2) it would make Bruce get all sad and mopey- again.  Jason just did not have the mental energy to put up with that on top of the rest of his life as a crimelord/vigilante/long-lost adoptive second son of a billionaire.

All this to say, he was not impressed when he first glanced over a proposal to convert the unused hotels around the city into housing units- especially since it was from someone that did not live in Gotham.

Manson?  Wasn’t there a family with that name that would attend some of Brucie’s galas?  Oh yeah, their family made its fortune off patenting the machine that wrapped toothpicks in plastic, as well as a couple others.  And they had a daughter around Repla- Tim’s age.  Hopefully this wasn’t her trying to be a kiss-ass like her parents.

Jason finished reading and sat back.  The proposal wasn’t too bad.  Converting hotels into apartment buildings would be easier than office buildings, and the suggestion to use ex-convicts that wanted to turn over a new leaf as building managers certainly wasn’t the worst.  Also creating a fund for those that couldn’t afford rent, as well as community kitchens and gardens were certain plusses, though would need to have the right people in charge to make sure they actually worked as planned, and to keep the Court of Owls from messing with it.

Overall, it was something Jason would consider, after some research and maybe talking with the rest of the Bats and Birds.  And if this was from the Manson kid, maybe get Dickie or one of the others to talk to her next time there was a gala in town.  Or talk to her himself, if the Pit wasn’t too loud.

…Dick was probably the better option to talk with her if it came down to it.

***

There's the first chapter. I'm going to go write the next one. When I have a good log of them, I'll then go and edit them and put them on AO3.

This has no title yet because I suck at naming. Feel free to comment with suggestions for a name, both for the fic/au and for the eventual hotel/co op. As well as any shinanegans and majors/colleges/universities for our liminal young adults.

Part 1/? Next >

[sweetiesicheng]

woozi - old friends

word count : 1,099

—

a simple gathering of college friends. all of you haven't seen each other in months, some of them you haven't seen since you graduated.

you've always kept to yourself in college, only being pulled into shenanigans by almost everyone else. till this day, you usually keep to yourself at work and everyday life. but being back with everyone makes you remember the fun times.

you hear a door open, "hello! we're here!" you hear seungkwan’s familiar voice announce.

"loud as ever," dokyeom comments while putting his drink down on the table.

"you're no better," one of the girls replies, causing everyone to laugh.

seungkwan walks in with two guys following behind him. "remember these two?" he asks as he walks into the living room.

"joshua, you flew in?" jeonghan asks.

joshua shrugs, "i'm making a trip out of this," he mentions with a smile and places two packs of beer onto the table. "nice to see you guys," he greets everyone.

"woozi's here? when was the last time he was with us?" one of the guys asks.

"seungkwan, how much did you bribe woozi to get him to leave his studio?" one of the girls asks.

"hey, he didn’t bribe me. i leave sometimes," woozi replies and notices you, "hi."

you smile, "hey."

everyone greets the newcomers and they settle into their places in the living room. more food is ordered and everyone has a great time reminiscing with each other.

—

"y/n!" one of your friends calls your name, "what happened to that guy you were talking to? you know, the one with the insane motorcycle?"

you shrug you shoulders, "it didn't go anywhere after awhile."

"aw, come on. y/n, you're literally so pretty. we need to get you a man!" another girl says as she stands up. "i'm grabbing drinks and snacks," she announces before walking into the kitchen.

"i'll come with you," you say and stand up, following your friend into the kitchen. your friend starts opening cabinets, looking for snacks to bring out to everyone. "did you guys really have to mention my love life?" you whisper while grabbing a beer from the fridge.

"don't worry so much. everyone's drinking, and if some of their habits are still the same, they won't remember by tomorrow," your friend replies. she opens another cabinet, "yes! okay, let's go," she says as she grabs two bags of snacks.

"i'll go back in a second," you say to her and take a sip of your beer.

your friend hums in response and leaves the kitchen. you start to clean the kitchen a little bit to help your friend who lives in the apartment. empty cans and bottles are covering the dinner table and counters. once you're done, you lean against a counter and drink some more beer.

"you okay?"

you see woozi walk into the kitchen with an empty soda can. he throws it away and opens the fridge to get a can of soda.

"yea, i'm good," you reply.

woozi nods and opens the soda can, taking a sip right after. "how have you been?" he asks you.

"normal, i guess," you reply with an awkward chuckle. "you?"

"the same. just working," he answers you.

out of everyone, you've known him the longest. you two met in a freshman seminar class, and it turned out he was in the wrong class. makes sense, what was a music major doing in a linguistics lecture? the two of you became friends and met the others along the way.

"still doing the music stuff, huh?" you ask.

he smiles, "yea. it's a lot of work, that's why i don't meet up with them often."

"seungkwan does mention how you're always in your little cave," you reply, both of you chuckling after.

"like i said earlier, i do leave...just not often," he says to you.

—

you eventually rejoin the group, where your friends are still reminiscing over a bunch of things. with more alcohol involved, some people start to get emotional. you had stopped drinking since you needed to make sure you could still drive later.

"y/n!" one of your friends latches onto you. "you're so lovely and pretty. i'm so glad people like you exist in this world," she says to you while reaching over to hug you.

"she's drunk," you say to everyone.

"oh lord. i should take her home," her boyfriend sighs before standing up from the floor.

"i'm not going home! i'm staying with y/n!" your friend whines while hugging you. you pat her back to soothe her.

her boyfriend sighs, "y/n, why does this always happen?" he questions. your friend has a tendency to not want to let go of people, resulting in whoever it is to have to go home with her and her boyfriend to get her to sleep.

"it's amazing. she won't attach to her own boyfriend," seungkwan observes.

"yea, at this point, i should be dating her," you say and stand up with your friend attached to you. "come on, time to go home."

"need help?" woozi asks. "i can drive your car over to their place," he offers to you.

"yea, that'd be great. i don't want to uber back," you reply.

—

"alright, time to get you to bed," you say as you help your friend into her apartment.

"y/n, i love you~"

"hey, what about me?" her boyfriend pouts while opening the door to the bedroom. "i got her," he says and brings her into the room. you watch him bring her to the bed.

"is she okay?" you turn around and see woozi standing by the front door.

"she'll be fine," you reply. "hey, we're gonna go. see you guys soon," you say to your friend.

"yea, see you guys. get home safe," he says to you.

—

after bringing your friend back, you drive woozi to his apartment.

"this is it, right?" you ask, parked in front of his apartment building.

woozi smiles, "yea." he opens the door and gets out, but he doesn't close the door right away. "y/n,” he calls your name.

"hm?"

"it was really nice to see you again," he admits to you. "i'm really happy."

you smile at him, "i'm glad i got to see you again too, woozi."

"text me," he says before closing the door. you watch him wave and walk into his apartment building, making sure he went in safely.

before driving off, you take your phone and send him a text with a simple smiley face. a few seconds later, you get one back.

[tikosblogg]

Can you do something along the lines of the guys aren’t famous and the reader starts college and Meets the guys through the nicks and Noah is a senior in college and you go to a party and you and Noah hook up

Summary: REQUEST

Warning: smut, unprotected piv(please don’t do that), semi public sex(you don’t get caught).

A/N: I hope you enjoy anon, I’m sorry if it’s cheesy af😭 I have a lot going on right now, but I wanted to get this out. Yall please send good vibes my way, your girl could really use it. Still waiting on the news I should be receiving soon. Fingers crossed 🤞🏻 that it’s good.

The energy of the campus was electric, vibrating with the laughter of students spilling out of dorm rooms, the music pulsating from frat houses, and the sweet smell of late-night smoke sessions lingering in the air. It was Saturday night, and despite being a newcomer, I felt the charm of this vibrant chaos tugging at me. Just a week into my freshman year, I was anxious but excited. Nick, my best friend since childhood, had convinced me to join him for what he called a “rookie initiation" to campus life.

“Trust me, y/n, you need to experience this!” Nick exclaimed, winking as he led me through the labyrinth of brick buildings and manicured lawns toward The Alpha Sigma Beta house, where the party was already in full swing. That was where I first spotted Noah.

He was hard to miss. He towered over the crowd at a staggering six feet three inches, with tousled brown hair that framed his perfect face and skin entirely adorned with intricate tattoos. Each inked design hinted at a story, a part of his past I found myself curious about, but tonight wasn’t about probing deep into anyone’s history; it was about enjoying the moment.

“Y/n!” Nick’s voice broke through the thrum of bass. “I want you to meet my friends!” He gestured toward a trio huddled at a table stacked with red solo cups. Folio, the energetic one with wild hair, and Jolly, whose laugh was infectious, immediately pulled me into their banter with wide smiles.

“Welcome to the mad house!” Folio shouted, practically bouncing on his toes. “You’re in for a ride tonight.”

As I exchanged pleasantries and settled into the familiar chaos of my first college party, I kept sneaking sidelong glances at Noah. His presence was magnetic, like gravity pulling me toward him in a crowded room. He seemed laid-back as he leaned against the wall, a half-empty cup cradled in his large hand. I wondered what he thought of the evening; his dark brown eyes held secrets as deep as the ocean, and I felt a pull I couldn't explain.

“Don't be shy! Come sit with us!” Jolly called over the music, dragging me toward a makeshift seating area strewn with mismatched lawn chairs. Nick settled next to me, and I found myself increasingly drawn into the whirlwind of laughter and stories.

As the night progressed, shots were downed, and the atmosphere thickened with excitement. Folio attempted to teach me an elaborate dance move that was probably illegal in some states, while Jolly told exaggerated tales of his exploits over the summer. I laughed along, feeling a small part of the group grow more comfortable, and yet I could still feel Noah's gaze cut through the exuberant noise.

By the time I managed to sneak away to the kitchen for some water, I stumbled upon Noah, who leaned casually against the counter, his tattoos glimmering under the fluorescent lights. A muffled bass line formed a backdrop against our unexpected solitude.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and deep, sending a thrill through me. "You’re Nick’s friend, right?"

I smirked as I turned to meet his gaze, slightly flustered. “Guilty as charged. And you must be the infamous Noah.”

“Infamous, huh? I like the sound of that,” he chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. There was something easy about him, and the way he looked at me made the world outside that cramped kitchen fade into the background. It was just us and the faint glow of the overhead lights.

“I’m still learning the ropes here,” I admitted, feeling a mix of shy and emboldened. “It’s all pretty overwhelming, if I’m honest.”

“I get that. Just take it one party at a time,” he said, stepping a little closer, his eyes now twinkling with mischief.

An electric charge filled the air as I caught the faint scent of his cologne—something earthy and warm that made my knees weak. I reached for my cup of water, only to find it empty. Noah noticed, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a sly grin.

“Can I get you something stronger instead?” he proposed, tilting his head toward the red cups that were now overrunning the counter.

"Just one,” I replied, testing the waters—there was something about the anticipation of this moment that made it feel like we were the only two people in the universe.

As he poured the drinks, we fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. We laughed at the absurdity of frat life, traded stories from our tumultuous school years, and marveled at how different life felt here compared to our respective hometowns. The longer we talked, the more I found myself leaning into him, our chemistry igniting in the cool kitchen that now felt too small for the two of us.

“Let’s get some air,” he suggested, reading the gleam in my eyes. He opened the back door, and suddenly, we stepped outside into a world transformed by moonlight. The music pulsing from the house faded into the background as an acrid breeze swept through the courtyard.

We wandered off to the edge of the yard, away from the thumping bass and the throngs of people. The stars hung low, brighter than I had seen them before, painting the sky with constellations that felt almost within reach. Noah leaned against a tree, his imposing figure softened by the spectral glow above us.

"You know," he began thoughtfully, “there's something nice about nights like this. You meet people, you share stories… it feels timeless.”

I nodded, feeling every word resonate deep within me—like a truth unearthed. “I’ve been waiting for something like this ever since I got here. It’s everything I hoped college would be so far.”

He stepped closer, and my heart raced. “You’re different, y/n.”

“Different how?” I dared to ask, curiosity compounding against the tether of nerves.

“There’s an aura to you... that I can’t put my finger on. You’ve got this spark,” Noah said, his voice a low whisper as he gazed down at me. The way he looked at me sent chill bumps dancing along my skin.

Before I could respond, he took a step forward, lowering his head until our lips nearly touched. Time slowed to a crawl, and I could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he searched mine. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he closed the gap.

His kiss was electric, igniting a fire that surged through me. I responded instinctively, feeling a rush of warmth enveloping us both, a collision of breaths and uncertainty melting away in that instant. I lost myself in the moment, the weight of the world outside dissipating, leaving only the two of us amid the stars.

As we pulled apart, my laughter filled the night air, a soft, happy sound that echoed into the quiet. He leaned in again, gripping my hips tight.

I gasped against his mouth, the kiss turning passionate as it deepened. I was on fire, limbs igniting with every stroke of his lips. And then, just like that, he pressed me against the oak tree. I could feel the rough bark against my back, grounding me amidst the rush of adrenaline coursing through me.

In one swift motion, he picked me up, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. My sun dress, scrunching around my hips. The height difference sent shivers of exhilaration through me as I gazed into his eyes, now alight with a wild, exhilarating energy. I felt both cherished and untouched by the lively party around us, suspended in this magical bubble we’d created.

“Noah,” I breathed, a mix of nervous anticipation and thrill threading my voice. The way he held me, strong yet careful, made me feel untouchable. His hands cradled my thighs, and I could feel the powerful smoothness of muscle beneath the inked stories that adorned his skin.

“You trust me?” His breath was warm against my skin, the promise of adventure sparkling in his gaze. And in that electric moment filled with infinite possibility, I nodded and surrendered to the rush.

As we kissed, the world around us blurred—the laughter, the thumping of bass, the clinking of bottles—it all faded until there was nothing left but the two of us, lost in our own universe. I could feel his hard dick pressing into me, the rhythm of him grinding against my soaked underwear clad core igniting an unparalleled heat inside me. The urgency of it all sent waves of pleasure rolling through, and I could hardly catch my breath.

“Fuck” I murmured against his lips, my head spinning with the sensations, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes.

“I know.” A teasing grin spread across his face, his breath hitching with excitement. “You’re so fuckin pretty.”

I quirked an eyebrow, the thrill of boldness flooding my veins. “you think so?”

“Definitely.” He lowered his voice, close enough for only me to hear. “I wanna feel everything fucking inch of you.”

There was a challenge in his eyes, one that made me want to climb higher and lower myself into the depths of this enchanting night with him. And beneath the oak’s ancient boughs, among rustling leaves and whispers of a sleeping world, I felt a warmth bloom in my chest—a daring desire to unleash the parts of myself that I often kept hidden.

I clung to him tighter, sensing the urgency of the moment. I wanted to taste the thrill of life, to dive deeper into the unknown while being shielded in his embrace. He kissed down my throat, before moving his hand up, and shoving his fingers inside my panties.

I gasped as his middle finger swiped up my slit. “Noah please.” I whined, my head falling back against the tree. He quickly looked around, to make sure we were hidden behind the tree before continuing. He shoved his two middle fingers deep inside me, as he groaned.

“You’re so tight baby.” He nipped at my neck, as he pumped his fingers a little faster. He pulled them out, shoving them into his mouth letting out another moan. “Fuuuuck, I’m definitely eating your pussy later.”

I let out a breathless giggle, as he reached down to his jeans pulling out his impressive length. My eyes widened. “Holy fuck Noah.” I groaned, losing my patience to finally feel him inside me. He smiled, kissing my lips softly. “Shhh I got you baby.”

He lined himself up, slowly pushing in as we moan in unison. After a few soft thrusts of his hips he moved his arms underneath both of my knees spreading me wide open, pushing me harder against the tree. He left one last kiss to my lips, softly biting my lip, as I moaned into his mouth.

He shoved his face into my neck as he thrusted harder, and faster into me. My nails dug into the back of his neck, as I relished in the pleasure he was giving me. “Fuck Noah please…” I gasped.

He pulled his face back, laying his forehead against mine. “You gonna cum baby?” Unable to find my voice, I nodded my head quickly. He let out a breathless chuckle, at my messy state. His lips hovered by my ear, his deep voice softly whispering.

“Then do it…let me feel you.” That was all it took for me to absolutely lose it. I came hard, my thighs shaking in his hands, whimpering his name over and over. “That’s it baby, good girl.” He groaned, as he watched me come undone.

He continued thrusting, chasing his own high. He quickly pulled out, holding me tightly against him as he came all over the tree underneath my still shaking form. After we caught our breath, he pulled me away from the tree gently placing me back onto my feet.

He tucked himself back in, before pulling my dress back down into place. All of sudden I became shy and nervous. “Shit…that was -“ his voice quickly cut me off, as he eyed me hotly. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

I smiled, stepping closer to him, and looking up at him batting my lashes. “I don’t know….you tell me.” He chuckled, placing one last kiss to my lips, before taking my hand walking up back to the party.

[alphajocklover]

As a kid, I watched a film that had these big cavemen tie a nerd to a pole before he was saved by his archaeologist friends. Since then, the idea of a bunch of cavemen taking a nerd to physically turn him into one of them while forcefully dumbing him down makes me so aroused. Too bad it didn't even happen in the movie, let alone real life...

‘Neanderthals!’ has been one of Terrance’s favorite movies since he was a kid, which made most of his friends very confused. A lot of them couldn’t figure out why he liked it so much. Terrance was the founder, president, and only member of his high school's movie club, the volunteer movie reviewer for his college newspaper, and generally the biggest movie buff that most people ever got to meet, but his favorite movie, out of all of the choices, was a C-list kids movie where a bunch of teen archeologist unfreeze three real cavemen who were stuck in an iceberg, and have to deal with their shenanigans. It was nothing special, just a lame kids movie that wasn’t even bad enough to be funny. None of his fellow movie buffs could figure out why you loved it so much, but the answer was surprisingly simple: that movie was Terrence’s sexual awakening. Watching the trio of muscular, hairy cavemen tie up a 15 year old nerd (who was played by a 19 year old actor for some reason) and dance around him ritually woke something up inside of him. He seriously thought for a moment that he was going to watch the nerd be turned into a caveman, and that fleeting thought has stuck in his mind for years like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He became fascinated with the idea of caveman transformations, and had watched the movie dozens of times over the years. Terrance had seen it so much he thought he knew everything about his favorite movie at this point, that he had every scene, every fact memorized. Until he heard about the missing scenes.

Like many small movies, the fanbase for it was incredibly small, but dedicated. It had one small reddit page, with about 7 people who regularly posted on it regularly, Terrance among them. Things were usually pretty calm there, until one day a newcomer to the forum reported that they had found a copy of the movie with deleted scenes. At first Terrance thought it had to be a scam, but the anonymous fan claimed he’d send a copy of the deleted scenes in the mail, for free, and Terrance accepted. He doubted the guy was trying to hack him with a DVD or something, so even though Terrance wasn’t expecting much, he gave the stranger his address (the address of a PO box. He wouldn’t give your address to a stranger, he was horny not crazy). He was shocked when he actually got the DVD as promised, and even more surprised when He put it on. As it blared to life, he immediately recognized the opening! It really was ‘Neanderthals!’ Or at least a version of it! The sender seemed to have cut out most of the scenes that were the same, leaving only the missing scenes and the opening left. Terrance watched in awe, laughing at the bloopers and making notes on the different scenes that were left out. Then, finally, they got to the scene you had been hoping for. 

It started out mostly the same as it did in the original movie, with one of the teen archeologists, Hal the stereotypical nerd, being kidnapped by the three cavemen, who danced around a fire as he was tied to a nearby pole. But soon the scene changed, and unlike in the original, the cavemen turned their attention to their captive. One of the cavemen, the one who gets redeemed toward the end of the movie and marries one of the main character Moms (like I said this was a weird movie), went up to Hal and rubbed some colored mud on his face, making distinct ritualistic markings. Terrance felt warm excitement come over him as he watched the three cavemen chant and dance wildly, and watched as what he always wanted to happen happened. Hal’s skin tanned slightly and his hair grew longer, wilder and dirtier. Terrance watched, entranced, as his muscles grew beefy and defined, practically able to feel the warmth coming from the fire as you did. He could see the actor's eyes glaze over as his brain seemed to melt and devolve, and could practically feel the dumb guffaw he made echo in your ears as his face became more gruff and his intelligence drained. This was exactly what Terrance had always wanted, what Terrance had been dreaming of seeing for years! Terrance’s itch was finally being scratched, and it felt so good. Terrance felt so good. Terrance felt great! Terrance felt… horny! He practically tore off his clothing, struggling with the buttons for some reason, and began to pull at his cock. He felt himself laugh dumbly and began to mutter.

“Terry is so… horny… Terry wants… pussy!” Terrance said, despite having been gay mere moments before. He laughed dumbly as the remains of his clothing magically transformed, becoming a loincloth. Terry continued to jerk his now growing cock as his changes finalized. Terrance was gone, replaced with Terry, a dumb, buff caveman, and all Terry wanted to do was to find a cave girl to plow.

**hey there! First time doing a caveman TF. Found it very hot (but also hard to find pictures for). Hope you guys liked it!**

[kmigyubs]

[동민] — ₊˚⊹ ᰔ do we have a connection (anymore)?

Pairing : HAN DONGMIN [Taesan] x [F] reader

(wc. 3.0K)

Genre : angst , also includes a bit of smut so beware.

Summary : [...] got dumped by her last boyfriend. But it's okay! She has a new boyfriend, Han Dongmin, and he was amazing.. until he got a drinking addiction and cheated on her regularly. She left him, but now Dongmin just wants her back.

Warnings/contents : highschcool to college setting, reader and dongmin are exes, dongmin fucks himself because he got turned on by his ex, mentions of c0ck and etc. Non proof read and English is not my first language :))) she/her used

[...] was a senior in high school, only a few months away from graduation.

She wasn't alone, she had a boyfriend. But.. the boyfriend was actually really horrible, to her and the people around her.

He tend to talk about [...] behind her back, doing things like shaming her for her appearance, and her overwhelming personality. It kind of hurt.

Other than that, this guy would never treat her right— he was an angel when they first got together, but overtime he became more and more of an asshole. He might treat literal gorgeous strangers better than [...], his own girlfriend.

[...] was sitting by a staircase one day, and she was weeping into her knees. It was during class, but she didn't feel like going at all.

She just got dumped by her boyfriend, why? Because she didn't dress well enough for him during valentines day— oh, it was just stupid as a whole.

She didn't know why she was crying exactly, that jerk was not worth crying over at all, so why did she feel this way...?

She kept on replaying the whole scene in her mind, over and over again. Where her boyfriend had broken up with her infront of students in the hallway.. and when she asked 'why', he slapped her.

He. Slapped. Her.

It was painful.. other than that humiliating— the fucking nerve of that guy to do that. She wishes she could go back there and punch some senses into him.

But, of course she didn't. Instead, she began to weep by a staircase. She looked weak as hell.

Footsteps started approaching closer and closer to the staircase. Quickly, she wiped the tears away from her eyes, well tried to. Her eyes were red and puffy. She was ready for the newcomer to go ahead and laugh at her.

"Hello...?" The voice whispered, low yet soft.

[...] sniffled, wiping her nose with the hem of her sleeve. She turned her head away from the person— well maybe she didn't wanna be laughed at.

"Go away." [...] tried to sound intimidating, but her voice came out shaky.

"...What's wrong?" [...] heard the person ask, also hearing commotion of the person taking a seat next to her on the ground.

[...] tried to ignore them, but she really couldn't. She let out a shaky breath, glancing at the person who was now sat next to her.

.... Wow. He was.. really pretty— and handsome. Her breath went hitched, but she tried to hide it by clearing her throat.

"Uhm.. I got dumped."

The biy who sat beside her had a scrunched up nose, knitted brows as he tried to process her words.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He murmured to her, before standing up. She peeked up at him in curiosity, before she saw him extend his hand to her.

"Han Dongmin." He introduced himself, in a firm yet gentle voice.

[...] was very lost, but she took his hand and got up aswell, deciding to trust this new acquaintance and follow him to wherever he would take her.

When walking, she noticed the way he glanced at her expectantly. Her face flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry..! I'm [...]."

"I see..." The way Dongmin seemed interested in her, the way he had a grip on her hand made her feel giddy.

She might have just got dumped... but she felt as if the love she used to feel wasn't over.

But oh, how wrong she was.

———

[...] sighed in relief, entering the house right after taking her shoes off and locking the door behind her.

She glanced at the sofa, since the television was playing- and, he saw knocked out Dongmin.

[...] eyes widened, seemingly surprised to see her boyfriend there. She hadn't a him since last night,  even for the whole day she was at her classes he didn't respond back to her messages.

She approached the knocked out boy, gently shaking his shoulder to wake him up. When he didn't, she furrowed her brows and shook harder.

The boy groaned, rubbing his temples as he opened his eyes to see who had woken him up in from his slumber!— well, it was an uncomfortable nap since he felt so damn light headed but whatever.

"Dongmin-ah," [...] smiled in satisfaction to see him awake, but the smell of him was grossing her out.

"You should wash up quickly.. and then we can get into bed. We could watch some shows, maybe."

He wasn't listening to any of her suggestions of activities for the night, like at all. He was really dizzy, and.. he was feeling deprived. Not for sleep, bit deprived of having that oh-so-amazing drink.. it was alcohol.

That's what he was thinking about, but he didn't tell her of course. He knew she'd be pissed of at him. Well, understandable. But he couldn't resist his urges, okay? If he wanted something, he will get it.

He saw [...] leave the living room after finishing her one-sided conversation with him, and went to set her stuff in their shared bedroom. It was a small apartment, thus they were sharing a room.

Dongmin was not fond of the idea, obviously.. he wanted a room for himself, and his private stuff damn it.

He shuffled up from the couch, slightly tipsy and stumbling on his feet. But, he managed to get through the door and exit the apartment. Silently.

"Dongmin-ah, where are you..." [...] mumbled, to no one in particular. She probably seemed insane, calling out to a name while she was home alone.

[...] tapped on the 'call' button on her boyfriend's contact again, shifting on the bed uncomfortably. She was impatient, she had called over and over again but he just wouldn't pick up.

But, it was normal by now.

Dongmin would leave at night, and came back home by the morning, and mostly slept and repeated the routine once it reached night.

He was usually out to parties, drinking and getting flat out drunk. He did it often, and would leave her at their shared home alone.

'We're sorry, this number is not able to get to the phone rig-' she cut the voicemail off, grumbling in pure frustration.

Honestly? She thought he was the biggest asshole ever.

What was stopping her from leaving him, then?

.... She honestly doesn't know either. It might be because Dongmin was the one who saved her from her past relationship.

But was it really worth it if this relationship had the same effects as the last, if not worse?

Dunno. She had a tiny glimpse of hope she could maybe.. fix him, somehow.

God, this was really bad. But she couldn't help but still have feelings over Dongmin. Who could blame her?

[...] called his contact again, holding it to her ear as her phone rang. She expected for another voicemail again, but this time- he answered.

Just about time.

As she were about to speak, she heard a distinct noise from the other line. She scrunched her brows in confusion. Well, he was maybe at a local club again, of course it was loud... but, this noise sounded strange- she pulled the phone closer to her ear.

She listened to the other line, and her mouth agape.

She realised now.. she heard-pleasurable noises- coming from Dongmin's line.. it sounded like a girl, followed by Dongmin's grunting.

It was disgusting to listen to. It was disgusting to think about, she was trying so fucking hard to not puke.

More moans came through the speaker, with wet, squelching noises. Dongmin's name was whimpered out-

Okay, she couldn't take this anymore. She hung up the phone, dropping her phone to the bed as she held her head in her hands. Imagine picking up the phone while mid-fucking another woman..?

"The audacity.." [...] mumbled out. Her eyes began to pour tears, burying her face into her hands as she weeped. Alone.

She wanted Dongmin to comfort her...

... but he was the reason she was crying in the first place. Thr audacity of him to leave her alone every night, and fuck other girls at the parties he goes to.

She couldn't take it anymore. The man- guy she was dating was a cheater, he was the worst person she had the misfortune of meeting.

She always thought that he was the best.. but it was clear now, clear as day that she needed to break up with this demon who she used to call 'her boyfriend'.

She sniffled back her tears, wiping her damped eyes with her bare wrists. She didn't deserve to cry over him.. he didn't deserve to be cried over. He was nothing but heartless, only using people for his own pleasure.

She's decided— she was done. She was too blinded to see the way he had been treating her this whole time was not okay. Like a fucking object.

She began stuffing her clothes, and essentials in the luggages she bought when moving into the apartment, with Dongmin.

She was actually taking her sweet old time packing her shit, since she knew she wouldn't get caught anyway. Who was going to check on her, Dongmin? Obviously not...

———

It was a little over 2 in the morning, and [...] was asleep in the comfort of her own bed. The warmness under the comforter, air conditioner washing over her body as she snuggled up with her stuffed animal.

There were knocks coming from the front door of her apartment.

Her brows scrunched up involuntarily as her sleeping form heard the sudden sounds. She tried to drown out the noise and continue sleeping.

But the knocks just wouldn't stop. Infact, it sounded frantic. Like someone's in trouble.

[...] grunted in annoyance. She reluctantly pushed the comforter off of herself and got off the bed, trying her best to fluff up her messy hair as she shuffled her way down to the front door.

She grabbed the key that rested on a cabinet nearby, and unlocked the door. She opened the door slightly to get a peek of whoever decided it was a pleasant idea to show up at her doorstep at this time.

... Oh. The person who had showed up was her ex, Han. Dongmin.

[...] tried to convince herself it was her mind playing with her, or that it was just a bad nightmare. She rubbed her eyes to have it adjust to the dim lighting, and she looked at the figure again.

... Nope, still there.

[...] let out a sigh. She took notice of how he still hadn't seemed to realise she had already opened the door, seeing him continously rub his temples with an index with an expression of distress.

Oh, damsel in distress.. but is that my problem?

Yep. They seemed like totally solid people.

But- first of all, how did he find her? She moved into a new apartment two months ago, right after she dumped him. Second of all, why was he even

[...] silently, tried to close the door back again and maybe she could continue her earlier slumber. But, a hand refrained her from doing so.

"Wait... " It was the annoying ass Dongmin, of course. His voice was shaky, he was blurting out words as he tried to make her stay there.

"What?" [...] spitted out. She was really in no mood to hear Dongmin speak in his whiny ass voice. Oh, and his breath smelled like flavored alcohol. Gross.

"I.. miss you, baby.." he blurted out, and she swore she vomited in her mouth from the cringe she felt from the term of endearment. "Why did you leave me.."

What kind of question was that?

"....Because you kept on drinking, making out and hooking up with random women at the parties you'd leave me for." [...]'s response to his question had no hesitance, and it was blunt as hell.

She had opened the door fully, looking at his weary expression with her arms folded over her chest.

"I didn't mean to..." He spoke through hiccups. He felt really dizzy. But he didn't have any balls to ask her to crash at her place.

Maybe she'd let him... he was her ex, after all. (That's not how it works, though).

"Can.. I stay the night?"

[...]'s eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. Oh the fucking audacity of this guy...

"No way." [...] furrowed her brows. Dongmin whined in response, tugging at the sleeve of her pajamas.

"Please.. please I can't..." he trailed off, gagging through his mouth. The alcohol had taken much worse effects on him than he had anticipated. He saw her roll her eyes, swatting his hand away from herself.

"No. You're actually so fucked up if you think I'd do anything for you after everything." [...] shot him one last glare, before she shut the door after she went back in, without enough time for him to protest.

Dongmin tried to bang on the door, hoping that she would comply and let him in. Let him make things right again... but, of course she lost faith in him. He was at her doorstep, after they broke up, flat out drunk.

He only against a wall, onto the floor. He put his head in his hands, as he began to weep. At his ex girlfriend's apartment complex.

God, he was so pathetic. Very pathetic.

———

The second Dongmin arrived to his own home, he was immediately knocked out on the couch. He was going to get the worst headaches of his life...

He was right. He woke up at the ass crack of 7 in the morning, and his head hurts like hell. He was trying so hard not to puke, his carpet was expensive for Pete's sake.

He walked on his limp legs, and managed to make it to his kitchen, gripping on the counter as to not fall. He grabbed a cup of water which had probably been staying for a few days on the counter, and downed it in one go.

He gulped the drink, grunting as the water had an effect on his lightweight. He was hungry as fuck... but he felt like if he consumed something, he'd immediately puke it out.

Instead, he grabbed his phone from the kitchen island and slumped himself on the comfort of the couch.

Without [...], the apartment felt more empty. [...] would always do the groceries, and in his fridge right now he had nothing except for spoiled milk.

Dongmin grumbled, and he began scrolling on his phone for entertainment, which was on Instagram.

There he goes, looking through pictures of random women on the app again.. but he didn't like, give any of the posts a like. He didn't know what possessed him..

... But thinking about [...] bejng missing made him feel some sort of regret, and resent to the people who could still see her, and talk to her while he couldn't even figure out where she lived.

Did she live with her parents? Her relatives? Maybe she lived alone now?

He didn't know, but he wanted to know, badly.

He wanted to apologise, to tell her that everything he did was fucked up and he knew it.

But his pride was bigger than the regret he felt. He didn't wanna admit it— he wanted her to come back and ask to have him back..

Wait— was he insane? Did he think [...] would still want him after all this time?

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he continued to scroll.

He suddenly stumbled across a post, with a familiar handle.

Dongmin narrowed his eyes. He clicked on the profile picture of the account to see who it was.. and of course, it was [...]'s account. His Instagram recommended him [...]'s account.

Was the algorithm playing with him? This must be a punishment? Or... [...] was just so pretty the algorithm put her on his recommendation page...

Kill yourself, Han Dongmin. He thought to himself in annoyance.

Whatever. I don't need her stupid ass anyway.

Dongmin thought as he scrolled through her Instagram. What's wrong? He was curious of what's going on in her life currently.

Dongmin went onto her most recent post, and a wave of shock strucked him. His jaw was dropped, and he felt as if his eyes would pop out from its sockets.

The post included pictures of [...] at the beach... wearing a little white bikini.

Oh, what was she doing to him...?

He knew he was being disgusting, but he let a grunt escape past his lips as he stared at the picture.

She was just so.. perfect. Why didn't he notice before? What a fucking dumbass. Biggest fool ever.

Dongmin could've been seeing this gorgeous body at nights, but instead he was out elsewhere, with another woman.

He fucked up big time, he knew that. The picture was just doing things to him. The way the bikini revealed so much of her body, and showed off her curves.

He felt jealous. Jealous that other men got to see her like this when it should be him.

Dongmin was about to groan at the sight, but he settled with another grunt. Why was he so weird..

He glanced at the door of his apartment, just to make sure that the door was really locked.

Dongmin took a breath, as he put the phone by his side on the couch, making sure that he didn't accidentally click off the image.

He placed his hand above his groin, pushing it up and down, beginning to palm himself. He let out a groan.

He was touching himself, and could just imagine that it was her, infront of him, being the one who gave him the pleasure instead of himself.

Dongmin unbuckled his belt, then unzipping the zipper of his black jeans. He stroked himself through the fabric, before pushing the jeans so it would rest below his hips.

He continued to stroke himself, only a layer of boxers separating him from actually touching himself.

His boxers were damped with pre-come. He moaned. He attempted to gain friction by rocking his hips into his fist.

He was being insanely disgusting.. but what was on the screen was once his. He missed that.

He wrapped his cock that was beneath the fabric, pumping it with his two fists. He was going pretty damn fast, because of his neediness and his eagerness.

But, it didn't feel as good as when [...] did it. He moaned so damn much whenever she played with his hard cock, he was sure the neighbours downstairs could hear them.

Dongmin was tempted to go further— but he stopped himself. Doing this was enough as it is.. he should actually only do that when he gets [...] back. If he gets [...] back.

Dongmin rolled his eyes, annoyed with himself that he had these thoughts in the first place.

He stood up from the couch, and pulled his pants back up.

Dongmin should really get his life back together if he wanted someone like [...] back in it..

Might make a continuation if I have motivation :9 also I want moots so if you want to be mootz tell me <3

[analogwriting]

The Walk-in

Killer x gn!reader (afab edition) word count: 4.2k amab vers. a/n: i got this idea from a revelation i had about how im pretty sure every walk-in in every restaurant ever has been boned in at least once. my source to site is me bc ive been working in the food industry since i was, like, 12.

“Oh my god, y/n, have you seen the new cook?” Your best friend, Wire, spoke up from behind the bar. He was currently wiping it down, preparing for the rush that would be starting soon. 

You were bussing tables when he spoke up, you paused, walking over to him and tossing the rag over your shoulder. “I haven't. Isn't he a friend of the owner’s son or something?”

“Yeah. Met him in college.”

“Ah. Friend hire.” You made a face, causing Wire to laugh. He knows how much you weren't a fan of people being hired just because they knew someone who worked there - especially when it came to the owner. “They never last.” You shook your head. 

“Oh, c'mon. I heard his cooking is great.”

You raised an eyebrow as you went back to wiping down tables. “Biased opinions, probably. Of course they're gonna say his cooking is great. But good cooking isn’t everything in this line or work. You and I both know that.”

Wire had a thoughtful look on his face as he nodded. “That's true.” There'd been plenty of instances where a good cook was hired, but they couldn't deal with the rush or crazy customers. None of them would last through the night. “He seems like he'll hold well.”

You snorted, standing up and folding your arms across your chest. “That's what you said about the last guy.” You rolled your eyes with a grin. The poor sap didn't last half an hour. 

“I was being optimistic?” You snorted and shook your head. “Oh sure. Optimistic.”

“I'm sure he'll become overwhelmed and leave within the hour.” That was your bet. You didn't usually expect much from newcomers, especially friend hires. 

“Wow, not even giving me a real shot, huh?” A deep voice came up from behind you. A shiver ran down your spine - not from fear, but from the sheer attractiveness his voice had. Oh shit.

You turned around and the air left your lungs as the most beautiful and sexy man stood behind you. You blinked, trying to find words to say but your brain wasn't fully caught up with the situation. Holy shit, this was the finest man you'd ever seen in your life. 

“You must be the head server with the high expectations then.” You opened your mouth to say something - only for nothing to come out. You glared over at Wire who held his hands up in surrender with a shit eating grin on his face. He knew that this man was exactly your type and chose to retain that information. 

A sly grin spread across the cook's face. “Cat got your tongue? Where'd all that barking go?” 

Your eyes widened, one of them twitching. Oh, he had a mouth on him too. It was on. 

Finally, your brain caught up. It'd felt like eternity, but it was only a few seconds. You folded your arms across your chest, an unimpressed look crossing your features. “I believe I am giving you a chance, just don't have high hopes. Can’t in this line of work - takes a special breed.” 

You looked him up and down. Fuck, he was fine as hell. “Anyway. They say you're a good cook. The customers will be the judge of that. That's not all, however. Where most people fumble is service itself. Always ends up being too much for people - too busy.” 

Then your brain circled back to what he had said earlier. “And of course I have high expectations. I only want what's best for this place and I don't need people wasting mine or my coworkers time.” 

The man before you just had an amused look on his face as he watched you. That irritated the shit out of you for reasons you couldn’t specify at the moment. “Don't worry, I won't be wasting anyone's time. I assure you, I won't be going anywhere either. You better get used to me now,” he crooned, leaning in as he spoke.

Your eyes narrowed at him. You wanted to punch him in his smug little face. “I've had plenty like you, too. Big talk. Think they'll last. Usually, they're the quickest to leave. Honestly, I’m being generous with an hour.” 

He chuckled, straightening back out. “We'll see when I'm still here after rush then, huh? If I stick it out, which I will, what do I get for winning the bet?”

The sheer audacity of this man. You stared at him, but didn't hesitate in your answer. “A job, duh.” You rolled your eyes. “I don't have time for this. I have a floor to prep.”

The cook laughed. It was one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard. Damn, you must just be horny. It had been a while since you've gotten laid, but you also had a rule of never sleeping with your coworkers. You didn't knock others for doing it, you just didn't personally. You felt it made things complicated - though you were also an overthinker. Too many what ifs. What if it didn’t work out? What if you hated working together? What if you spent too much time together? What if, what if, what if?

“I'll see you after dinner rush then.” He winked at you and your heart almost stopped. Jesus fuck, you were down bad for a man you wanted to strangle. He walked off, leaving you standing there with Wire. You watched him leave, admiring his fat ass as he left before you turned back to your best friend.

He burst into laughter and you narrowed your eyes. “You're the worst, you know that?” That caused him to laugh harder. “Oh my god. I was just waiting for the moment for the part where you both just tear off each other's clothes and start going at each other right there, holy shit.”

Your face immediately warmed up. “Shut up, Wire. No one asked you.” You folded your arms across your chest with a frown. “You could've fucking warned me he was hotter ‘n hell.” 

Wire laughed again. “And miss the look on your face? That was priceless. I've never seen you be so taken aback before. The great y/n rendered speechless by the new cook.”

“Don't call him the new cook. He's gotta prove himself first.”

Another chuckle came from your best friend and he shook his head. You sighed, looking in the direction said man had left.

“What are you thinking about now?”

“How it's a shame he's not a baker with all that cake he's got. And how I wouldn't mind him icing mine.” Wire burst into laughter again and you just shook your head, clicking your tongue. “Too bad he won't last.”

Your attention shifted to the customers that walked in and you headed over to greet them. 

--

Rush was busier than usual. It was always insane, but it was even more so tonight. This was something you usually lived for, the chaos of the floor. It kept things interesting and helped time fly by. Slow nights drove you insane, which is why you were always scheduled the busiest nights too. Plus, you were insanely good at your job.

Being head server, your main job was just making sure that things were going out on time, keeping tabs on your servers, and taking care of any customer issues. You were technically a manager, yes, but you liked the title of head server better.

However, you could feel eyes on you all night. Yes, that's typically normal considering you're a server, but this was different. You also knew exactly who the culprit was. The new fucking cook. Every time you headed to the back or to the window, his eyes were on you. You'd glance at him, catching him red handed. 

Only, he didn't look away like most people. He kept his stare, only offering up a grin and the occasional wink as he cooked. Your body heated up every time, flustered that he was so casual.  Your mind was running wild with what you wanted him to do to you. You tried to keep yourself busy, but the growing heat across your whole body was making it hard. 

You tried to lie to yourself, saying it was because rush was busier than usual and you were running around even more. Every time you finally started calming down, he seemed to appear out of nowhere with his stupid smile, sending you into a spiral again. 

You could honestly punch him, that might just solve your problems. He was aggravating in every sense of the word. His cocky attitude was getting to you, making you even crabbier than you already had been. You were trying your best not to take it out on your fellow servers or the customers. It was fine for the most part. 

After rush, you asked another server to cover the one table you had left so you could take a minute. You immediately beelined it to the walk in. You flung the door open, unbuttoning your shirt a few times as you walked in. You closed your eyes, listening to the hum of the fans keeping it cool, and taking a deep breath as you fanned yourself with your hand.

Then the door opened, revealing the new guy. Someone mentioned his name was Killer. Funny. You wonder how he ended up with a stupid nickname like that. 

You glared at him as the smug smile spread across his face. Unfortunately, you knew he didn't end up leaving. His eyes being glued to you all night constantly reminded you that he had proven you wrong. He actually had done pretty well and the customers seemed to enjoy his cooking. He'd be sticking around as long as he wanted now - the job was his. Which also meant you had to deal with the fact that you were going to have to see him almost every day. 

“Guess you're stuck with me now, huh?”

“What are you even here for? Just to bother me?” You were in a foul mood and it was all his fault. You weren’t in the mood for his cocky attitude or ‘I told you so’ right now

“Well, I originally came back here to grab something but now I don't even remember what it was supposed to be now that you're in front of me looking like that.”

You looked down at yourself, confused. “What? Gonna make fun of me?” You were disheveled and hot, your skin flushed in some places. 

“No. You actually look really good like that.” A lazy smile appeared on his face as he folded his arms and leaned against the shelves. What the hell was he doing?

You could feel your body growing warmer despite the cooler air being blown at you. “The hell is your fucking angle? You've been staring all night and now you’re saying weird shit.” 

He blinked, raising his eyebrows. “And here I thought I was being obvious.” 

You stared at him for a moment as your head spun. What did- oh. Your eyes widened slightly and his grin grew. “Now you got it.”

Though, he didn't have much time to say anything else before you essentially pounced on him. You couldn't take it anymore, he'd been riling you up all night and you were at your wits end. And he was here, basically telling you to screw him. Actually, literally. 

You had walked over, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and kissed him hard. He grinned into you, wrapping his arms around you. “Finally,” he mumbled. 

You shook your head. “Don't let your big mouth ruin it.” He just laughed before kissing you again, patting your ass. You took the hint, hopping up and wrapping your legs around him. He held you with ease, hands firmly on your ass as he pinned you to the shelves. He squeezed you hard, making a small whine escape your lips. 

Your own hands pressed against his chest before pausing. You felt something through his shirt. “Oh my god - are your nipples pierced?” You had never moved faster than you were right now as you undid his shirt. 

He blinked in confusion at your sudden shift of attention, disoriented and a little pouty that you pulled away like you did.

You opened his shirt and, lo and behold, piercings. Your eyebrow raised and a grin spread across your face. “Now, that's hot as hell,” you mused as you ran your hands across his broad chest and piercings, tugging at them a bit. You heard him inhale slightly but before you could play much further, you were set on the ground, lips attacking your neck. 

You felt his teeth graze your neck before lightly biting at you as a hand slipped past your waistband and you felt him begin to toy with you. Getting right to business. 

Immediately, you melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt as your breathing grew shallow and labored. You cursed under your breath, your legs spreading slightly to give him better access. You definitely didn't see yourself shagging this man so quickly, if at all, and especially in the walk in. Who the hell were you at this point?

Though, it wouldn't be the first time someone hooked up in here and it also wouldn't be the last. You just never thought it'd be you.

“Fuck,” you whined, feeling his fingers circle your clit before sliding down further and a single finger teasing your folds. He kissed you again, patting your thigh. Once again, you knew what he was asking, hiking up your leg and he held it as one of his thick fingers slipped inside of you. You gasped, moaning against him. Fuck, you hated how much you were loving this. The last thing he needed was an ego boost. 

But honestly, you were too horny to care. 

You were ripped out of what little thoughts you had when he slid in another finger, moving them around inside you. You moaned loudly, causing him to kiss you once more to keep you quiet. Sure, the walk in had the constant fan to keep things cool and it muffled noise, but it wasn't completely soundproof. 

Knowing your coworkers, if they noticed both of you gone, they more than likely put two and two together. Especially the longer you were gone. You were kind of surprised that no one checked the walk-in yet, they were typically nosey as hell. 

Your moans were growing louder and you rolled your hips against his hand, wanting more. “You're a noisy one, hm?” 

“Says the one who cant shut the fuck up,” you mumbled back, breathlessly. He just grinned, inserting another digit, causing you to shudder and moan again. He moved his fingers around, his thumb stimulating your clit as he did so. He was hitting all the right spots and it was driving you insane. 

“Keep your leg up,” he said as he let go before reaching that hand around you to untie your apron. He emptied it out and rolled it up all with one hand. You watched in confusion but as soon as you opened your mouth to ask what he was doing the cloth was shoved into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Since someone can't keep quiet, I'm not going to be able to focus on ruining you and keeping you quiet.” Your face turned red, your body heating up even more. You felt like you were on fire. This was the most embarrassing situation you've been in but holy shit did it turn you on. 

Before you had much time to react, his hand placed itself back holding your leg and his other hand began to move inside of you. His fingers moved fast and ruthlessly, his thumb assaulting your clit in the process. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of movement, moaning loudly. The apron muffled it, so maybe he'd been right. You don't know how to keep quiet. Shit, how was this man single? With hands like this? 

You felt a coil tightening deep within you, your hips rolling and grinding against him. You were moaning and whining. The apron was going to be soaked by the end of this endeavor.

Right before you reached your climax, he stopped moving before pulling his fingers out of you. You whined in protest, looking at him with desperation. You should've expected something like this at this point, but you were so lost in the sauce that you forgot who was currently fucking you right now.

He spun you around, pressing you into the shelves, and pulling your ass out. He gave you a firm smack, making you whine into the apron. Fuck, he was driving you insane. It's like he knew exactly what you liked. 

A shiver ran down your spine as he pulled your pants down, exposing you to the cold air of the walk in. It also didn't help that you were soaking wet either, making things even colder. You gripped onto the shelves before you, trying to keep yourself from shivering anymore. 

Soon, you felt his body heat close to you. Now a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine. You had felt him press against you earlier when you were making out. He had felt big and usually you'd end up on your knees, getting a nice jaw exercise before you ended up getting railed. However, Killer kind of just took the lead and took care of you. Which isn't something you were really used to. You were also used to usually ending up having to finish yourself off. 

But by the looks of things that wouldn't be the case this time. 

Killer pressed a kiss to your shoulder before leaning into your ear. You felt the heat of his body wash over you, the sudden temperature shift making you shiver. “If its too much, bang on the shelf twice.” You just raised an eyebrow at him. If only you didn't have this makeshift gag, you would've said something smart. 

“Don't worry,” he said. “I can read your comment in your eyes.” You just narrowed your eyes at him, making him grin - he was eating every moment of this up. You weren’t sure how you felt about him already knowing you so well.

Your glare didn’t last very long before you felt the fat head of his cock press against you. A sharp inhale went through your nose in surprise, not expecting him to be quite that large - he was about the same size as some of your bigger toys. Your eyes rolled back as he began to slide his way into you. You groaned, gripping onto the shelving as you stretched around him. You could feel him throbbing against you as your own walls throbbed trying to expand enough to fit him.

You took each inch of him like a champ, spreading your legs more and bending over to get him to fit all inside of you. He eventually bottomed out and you both were panting as he paused for a moment. You could tell he was holding himself back, which you appreciated. You’d rather not have anything tear. That was never a pleasant experience.

“Look at that,” he breathed. “You took in every inch of me. Good job, baby.” His voice was low as he spoke into your ear. You weren’t exactly sure about the petname, but fuck hearing the praise made your head swim. What was up with you? You were never this submissive. 

You moved, pressing into him slightly as you whined. You needed him to move. He just chuckled, but luckily took the hint.

He pulled out of you slowly, almost agonizingly slow. You knew he had to be messing with you. You glared at him over your shoulder and he just grinned back at you. You had half a mind to take the apron out and say something. You started to reach for it when he slammed back into you. Your eyes widened, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as they rolled back. A strangled scream erupted from your throat as you felt yourself climax suddenly. Pleasure ripped through your body, every inch of you shaking as you held onto the shelves for dear life. 

Your breathing was heavy, labored. You hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest. You thought he’d take it a little easier, but at the same time you’d never felt anything that good…probably ever.

“Too much?” You looked at him through your blurred vision, shaking your head. A smile appeared on his face, replacing the concern that had been there. “I knew you could take it,” he said. In that moment, you realized he was panting pretty heavily too. His skin glistened with sweat, hair sticking to his face. Fuck, he was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen in your life.

His hands gripped onto your hips and you knew you were about to have your shit absolutely rocked. You gripped the shelves, bracing yourself. As you predicted, he absolutely started to go to town. One way station to pound town, population: you. Or however the saying went. In moments, the sound of skin against skin mixed with grunts and moans was filling the walk in. You just silently prayed that the cooling system was loud enough to muffle the noise for the most part. 

You didn’t dwell on this too long as your mind was slipping further and further into the lusty abyss of pleasure. Your entire body felt like it was on fire despite the fans blowing right on the two of you. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you the cooler was going to end up being on the warmer side after all was said and done.

With the absolute ferocity he was drilling into you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t walk or had some serious bruising tomorrow. You knew you’d have to push through it though because tomorrow was your double. Fuck, you really didn’t think this through. Hell, you didn’t think at all.

Again, your thoughts came and went, never sticking around for long and soon just nonexistent. Your eyes were practically glued to the back of your head as he used you. This was the railing of a lifetime. You’d already came once and you could feel yourself on the cusp of another. Killer was also about at his wits end too - his movements were growing more desperate and erratic.

You reached the edge first, feeling your body shudder once more as euphoria washed over you with your climax. You let out a muffled, long moan. His hips also stilled as he came hard as well. You were filled with warmth, feeling overly stuffed even more so before feeling some of it leaking down your leg. Damn, just how much did he unleash inside of you?

You were slumped against the shelving, trying to collect yourself. Your eyes were closed as you panted heavily, too weak to make any movement right now. Killer was panting too, placing soft kisses along your shoulders and neck while whispering soft praises that made your head spin a little more. 

After a few minutes, he reached over, pulling the soggy apron out of your mouth. “Holy shit,” you mumbled, coughing a bit. 

He slowly pulled out of you, making you whine slightly. You shivered as you were suddenly left empty, still too weak to move. He shoved himself back into his pants before helping you. He dressed you back up; pants on, apron around your waist. He stood you back up. “Are you alright?”

At this point, you weren’t sure - still on cloud nine. “I think I’ll be fine.” You stretched a bit, wincing slightly. “Tomorrow’s gonna suck though.” 

“I can cover for you.”

You looked at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “No offense, but I think you’d be a shit server.” 

He frowned. “And here I thought shagging you would take the attitude out of you.” 

You raised a brow, putting your hands on your hips. “Is that what you thought? Sorry, this isn’t something that comes from needing to be laid. I’m just always a bitch - personality trait.” You shrugged, retying your apron. You fixed yourself up before looking over at Killer. You snorted, buttoning his shirt back up.

“Looks like I’ll just have to try again.” A smug smile appeared on his face and you looked at him, a smile tugging on the corners of your own. “You can try as many times as you want, loverboy. It ain’t happening.” 

“I’ll ice that cake anytime.” Your eyes widened at his words and he laughed. “Yeah, I heard your little baker comment earlier. So you like my ass?” He winked, making your face turn red. “Fix your hair,” you mumbled. “Make it look less obvious we just boned.”

“Yes, boss.”

You rolled your eyes, flinging the walk-in door open to reveal several of your coworkers standing there. Wire grinned widely, a smug look on his face. “Everyone owes me twenty bucks.” There were collective groans. “No one knows our head server better than me, you should’ve known better than to bet against me.” He shook his head, holding his hand out as everyone forked over money. 

“But they literally never sleep with anyone that works here ever,” someone protested, pouting.

You knew right then and there - you were never going to hear the end of this.

[softdykellie]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ motion sickness part i | ellie w.

next part here

PAIRING: modern!ellie x fem!reader

SUMMARY: having grown up together, everyone knew eachother in jackson. when a brooding newcomer owner to a tattoo shop comes along apparently charming her friendly florist neighbor things seem to take a turn.

WARNING: alternative universe! purposefully all lower case. multiple part series. not a very eventful beginning as ellie’s relationship with reader is slow burn but i promise it will evolve.

WORD COUNT: 716

the entire town of jackson had stopped on its tracks to peek into the blacked out windows of what used to be cat’s bakery, an exciting guessing game at every arrival of trucks unloading black leather chairs and tall unopened boxes that according to jesse made heavy noises to the shake. the owner, whoever they may be, haven’t made their way to the building yet, and all pointed towards a newcomer. jackson wasn’t used to those.

“you think it’s a woman?”

“i just hope they’re hot” dina says, getting in response a subtle glare from jesse as she poured whiskey from her expensive cabinet onto your cup. it was always on the house for her best friend, a near prayer for bankruptcy.

you chuckled before clinking your glasses together and taking a long sip to avoid the topic you knew awaited you by the way dina raised her eyebrows suggestively, squinting her eyes towards the bar’s furthest corner where abby anderson, former basketball star and current police chief, downed her own drink. the woman never wore her hair down and was an apparent fan of uniforms, having once used religiously her numbered jersey and now eternally in dark blue slacks. once upon a time there had been something between you, if you could call it that: a drunken kiss at a frat party after a winning game, all nerves and eagerness, tongue and hands. years later, dina would never let you live it down.

“i’m just saying your love life is about as interesting as jj’s and he’s two years old!” she whispered agressively before whistling for abby’s attention “oi, anderson! c’mon let us in on the secret, what’s the new shop for?”

“didn’t take you as a gossip, dina”

“well then you clearly don’t know me enough! entertain us, we won’t tell”

abby seemed to think for a minute, glancing between you and the empty bottom of her cup. with a sigh she walked over from her seat towards your spot at the barstools, the smell of fresh mint and citrus radiating off her. under the dim lighting her blonde hair still shone - nearly sparkled - at every ray, inevitably, you stared until she smirked. another bitter whiskey sip.

“some asshole’s tattoo shop” up close, that was when you took note of her bruised hand, red knuckles still somewhat clenched up. it suddenly made sense why the stoic figure was seen day drinking at her job, something to numb the pain without looking weak. still, everything seemed unlike her. hot-tempered. dina asked bluntly what you found yourself too stunned to ask: “what the fuck anderson, you punched the newcomer?”

her eyes were on you again, pale blue like a stormfront, searching your expression. abby anderson was a different kind of beauty, ragged around the edges, rough and sharpened. everyone guessed college would straighten that out of her, ivy league scholarship with the rich and powerful far enough from jackson you’d think nostalgia was a disease amongst the trophies and gpas. no one could bare look her in the eye since the career ending injury that lead her to come back, besides you. she figured that’s what kept her enthralled; not being a walking failure to at least someone in her hometown.

your staring match as over before it fully began. a swing of the door echoing bells throughout the establishment. jesse straightened his back, ready to serve, dina fixated on the hand still, abby looked down and you turned your body towards the entrance. 5”7 and fully tattooed at every visible corner of skin besides her face - oh that face - right eye stained in swollen purple. she looked no one in the eye besides dina.

“one beer please”

she caught your eye for a second, taking you in under her shuddering gaze in such precise detail you were sure all the lines and dots connected into the paiting of your face had made themselves a maze under microscope. she searched for something in you, a reaction, you barely even noticed how your breath had hitched until you ran out of air. her hand slowly reached towards your face in what appeared at first to be a cheek caress, before she tugged a leaf from behind your ear, stuck to your hair.

“you must be the flower shop girl. hi, neighbor. i’m ellie.”

[zenlesszonezero]

[psycholuvrgirl]

sweets! part II

ethan landry x bimbo!oc [winnie adair]

summary: the friend group discusses the rules of the new set of ghostface killings and possible suspects. ethan and winnie play a game.

warnings: mentions of murder, nsfw implication/discussion

a/n: chapter two early as a treat <3

masterlist

Winnie and Ethan approach the group hand in hand. Since the prior night’s events, Winnie had texted Ethan once he had gone home, asking if he would stay close to her during the day. Ethan was more than happy to oblige; walking her to her classes, holding her hand, and even waiting near the bathroom for her. Ethan sits down and Winnie takes her spot in his lap, just as she had last night, and Mindy stands from the bench where she was waiting for them to arrive. 

“Okay, nerds! And Winnie,” Mindy announces, gesturing to the other girl with the mention of her name. Winnie fakes a curtsy, giggling at being singled out. Mindy continues her message, “Listen up! As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not… calling the killers last time.”

“I called it,” Winnie says, smiling proudly.

Mindy glares at her, “As a joke. You didn’t actually mean it.”

“I was still right,” Winnie says. Ethan puts up his hand and Winnie high-fives him, sticking her tongue out at Mindy.

Ethan can’t help but be a little distracted by the size of her hands. They’re smaller than his, and so soft. She interlaces their fingers and he smiles at the action, their hands dropping to their sides.

“You two are scaring me more than Ghostface can,” Mindy says, her face flat as she looks at them. She clears her throat and turns back to the group, “Anyways. The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel.”

“Um, what’s a requel?” Anika asks, putting her hand up to get Mindy’s attention.

“You’re beautiful, sweetie. Let’s hold questions to the end,” Mindy says.

“It’s made up,” Winnie whispers. Anika nods and gives her a thumbs up.

“Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro. Stab 2 took place in college,” Sam says.

“So we think that the killer is trying to copy the movies?” Tara asks.

“That is one possibility. Heroes now in college: check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or body count: check, check, and check,” Mindy says, pointing to the three newcomers to the group.

“I don’t like this,” Ethan says. Winnie leans her head back onto his shoulder, looking up at him.

“You’re telling me,” she says with a smile.

“Ignoring that,” Mindy says, looking away from the pair with a disgusted expression. “It can’t just be about Stab 2.”

“Why not?” Tara asks. Winnie and Ethan revert their attention back to the group.

“It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore,” Mindy says.

“Oh Mindy, you nerd, get on with it,” Winnie says, rolling her eyes.

“We’re in a franchise!” Mindy announces. Winnie groans, throwing her body limply into Ethan’s. Mindy ignores the girl’s dramatic display and continues. “And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise.”

“I had a feeling,” Sam says with a sigh. Winnie moves in Ethan’s lap, turning so she can lay on him comfortably. The boy welcomes her to do so, wrapping his arms around her when she’s comfortable. He notices Chad watching them in his peripheral vision but refuses to look over at his roommate.

“Rule one: everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count. Longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings. You gotta top what came before to keep people coming back.”

“Beheadings?” Chad asks, looking up at his sister.

“Beheadings,” Mindy repeats. “Rule two: whatever happened last time, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations. If the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here.”

“She talks so much,” Winnie whines, looking at Mindy for her reaction.

“Suck on a lollipop and shut up,” Mindy says, a fake smile on her face. Winnie laughs at the girl’s jab, standing up and walking around to stand behind Ethan. She rests her chin on him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “And rule three: no one is safe. Legacy characters? Cannon fodder at this point. Usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. It’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. Oh, and that’s not even the worst part!”

“Oh, I would love it if you would tell me, though,” Winnie says, acting excited.

“Lucky for you this is the part where she tells us the worst part,” Chad says, looking up from his book for a second.

“The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic installments designed to boost an IP,” Mindy says, “Which means main characters are completely expendable now too. Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Sally Hardesty, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond. I mean, even Luke Skywalker! All died so their franchises could live on. That means it’s not just the friend group. Any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara.”

“Wait-- Wait, any of us?” Ethan stutters.

“Yeah.”

“Does… Am I in the friend group?”

“Yeah.”

“Am I, like, one of the targets?”

“Mhm,” Mindy nods.

“Am I gonna die a virgin?” Ethan asks. Everyone looks over at him, their faces contorting with confusion.

“I can make sure you don’t,” Winnie says, leaning her head closer to his with a toothy grin on her face.

“Winnie,” Mindy complains, her pitch a little higher with the disgust in her voice. Winnie giggles, pressing her lips to Ethan’s cheek. A pink, glossy lip print stains his skin and Ethan tries, and fails, to contain his blush. Mindy shakes her head, trying to ignore the affectionate display. “Moving swiftly along to our suspects.”

“Riveting,” Winnie mocks, leaning over Ethan into her bag. He watches carefully as she pulls out that familiar red candy. He wishes she was back on his lap so he could watch her enjoy the sweet treat.

“Ethan,” Mindy says. The boy looks up at the mention of his name, pulled away from his thoughts of Winnie sucking on the lollipop. “The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”

“Why am I on the suspect list?” Ethan asks, “Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?”

“Roommate lotteries can be juked. You could have fixed it to get next to us,” Mindy says, earning an eye roll from Ethan. “Besides, you’re weaseling your way into Winnie’s life and I don’t trust that you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

“I’m not weaseling--”

“Weasel,” Mindy declares. She turns to Quinn, saying her name as she does. “The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic.”

“‘Sex positive,’ but… thank you,” Quinn says, more of a question than a genuine thank you.

“Mhm. Um, how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?” Mindy asks.

“I answered their ad online,” Quinn says.

“Okay, say no more. You’ve already implicated yourself enough,” Mindy exclaims.

“It was an anonymous ad, Mindy,” Tara says, “And you know we vetted her. Plus her dad is a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely that she’s the killer because having a cop dad is a great cover,” Mindy says, “Do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?”

“I want to leave,” Winnie whispers into Ethan’s ear. He reaches for his bag but is stopped by Mindy pointing at him angrily.

“Sit down,” she says, giving them a stern look. Winnie groans, going around to sit back on Ethan’s lap with a huff.

“Is she always like this?” Quinn asks. Sam does a half-nod, half-shrug in response.

“And finally… Anika,” Mindy says. Anika smiles and blows Mindy a kiss, getting an air kiss in return. Mindy’s smile drops, “Never trust the love interest.” Anika’s smile fades at Mindy’s words.

“Okay! So, we have our rules and we have our suspects,” Sam says.

“But wait,” Ethan says, “What about you guys?”

“I mean, I think it’s pretty safe to rule out the five of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro,” Mindy says.

“Agreed,” Chad says.

“Um, not agreed,” Quinn says, “What if the trauma you all went through caused one or more of you to snap?”

“Yeah, or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more,” Ethan says, “I mean, let’s be honest here, some of the theories online about Sam are--”

Winnie shushes him, but Tara is quick to turn to him, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“You can’t say things like that,” Winnie says, tapping his lips with her lollipop as if she’s scolding him. His eyes are a little wide, but he nods regardless of his shock at the threat from Tara.

“Okay, she’s right though,” Anika says, "I mean, face facts -- if we’re all suspects, you’re all suspects.”

The group looks at one another, silently giving each other looks of suspicion. Winnie raises her hand after a minute, looking at Mindy.

“What?” Mindy says. Winnie drops her hand to her side, taking the candy out of her mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.

“Can I leave now?”

“Do you really believe Mindy?” Ethan asks. Winnie looks up at the boy, shrugging in response to his inquiry.

“I don’t know,” she says, “I think she’s kinda dramatic with her explanations… But there’s also a murderer out there trying to kill us, so I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry and listen to her.”

Ethan nods, “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Why? Do you?” Winnie asks, swinging their interlocked hands between them.

“Oh yeah,” Ethan says. The sarcasm is laced in his voice and he nods, his curls bouncing with the movement of his head. “I totally believe her. Especially when she accuses me of being Ghostface.”

Winnie giggles, hiding her face while she does. She shakes her head a little and looks back up at him, “I knew it was you, Landry.”

“Yeah, I’ve always loved playing games,” Ethan says. Winnie steps closer to him, letting go of his hand and trading it to wrap her arms around his.

“Well if you’re Ghostface, can you at least spare me?” she asks. He looks down at her and she’s giving him those damn puppy dog eyes. She’s used them a couple times with him -- once at a store when she wanted a chocolate bar, another when she wanted a piggyback ride, and a few times when she wanted him to carry her bag. 

“I’ll consider it,” he says, opening the door to the building for her.

“C’mon,” she says, now walking backward so she can look at him. “What can I do to be spared?”

He pretends to think, “Wanna play a game?”

She laughs, “What kinda game?”

“Trivia,” he says. She lets out an ‘ooh’ and agrees to play along with him as they enter the elevator. “What building do I live in?”

“Hortense Tower,” she says. The doors shut behind them and he smiles at her.

“Good, good,” he says. His hand hovers near the columns of buttons, “And what floor?” She smiles, reaching past him and clicking the button labeled ‘3.’ He nods, “And which room?”

“Hmm,” she hums, tapping her chin in pretend thought.

“Times ticking,” he says.

“316,” she responds, pretending not to know.

“I’m sorry, sweet thing, but that’s wrong,” he says, shrugging, “Guess I can’t spare  you.”

“No, please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface,” she says, pouting, “I wanna be in the sequel!”

“It’s too bad, really,” he says, “I liked you.”

The doors open and a few students move out of their way as they exit. Winnie sighs, shaking her head. “Let me try again. Bonus round!”

He pulls out his keys as they approach his door, “Fine, what school do I go to?”

“Oh you love me,” she says. He laughs at her excitement playing the fake game. She giggles, “Blackmore University. Easy!”

“Amazing job,” he says, pushing the door open. She squeals, running over to his bed and jumping onto it. She barely makes it on top, the bed being  quite high up in comparison to her. She kicks off her shoes as he closes his door and drops his things next to his desk.

“I’m a final girl,” she says with a sing-song voice. She adjusts the way she’s sitting, propping herself onto her knees and watching him make his way over.

“Yes you are,” he says, “Congratulations.”

He stands in front of her, both of them just looking at each other. It feels like an eternity of silence, an eternity of just admiring one another; in reality, it’s only a minute. Their smiles fade a little, not with upset, but instead because they’re focused on one another. Winnie scoots closer to the edge of the bed and both of their breaths become shallower, hearts speeding up.

“Ethan?” she whispers.

“Yes?” he asks. His eyes roam her face and he notices the way her eyes keep flicking to his lips.

“I wan--”

He doesn’t let her finish her request, she doesn’t need to. He knows exactly what she wants because he wants the same thing as her. He grabs her face, pulling her into a hasty kiss. She squeals in delight when their lips touch, her arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close to her.

“Eth,” she breathes out into his mouth. He moves his hands to her waist, pulling her closer. Her knees are now over the edge of the bed, on either side of him. His hands grip her exposed skin tightly, fingers digging into the squishy flesh greedily. Her fingers work their way through his curls, gripping the strands of hair for a moment.

The jingle of keys outside the door makes them pull away, much to their dismay. Ethan takes a step back and Winnie straightens out her clothing, fixing her top and smoothing out her skirt. Chad enters the room a moment later, slowing down when he notices the two.

“Dude,” he says, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. The two look at him, feigning innocence. It isn’t till Chad makes a motion around his lips that the feeling of the sticky gloss on Ethan’s face becomes noticeable to the boy. He touches it with a finger, pulling it away to see the glittery substance.

It’s quiet between the three of them, the door still wide open behind Chad. Other students pass by, not knowing the tension that’s thick in the room. They look at one another, eyes flicking between each other in the passing moments.

“I, for one, am not sorry,” Winnie says, breaking the silence, receiving a glare from Chad.