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vktrjyce · 1 month ago

Text

tell me that i'm what you need

a jayvik college au

length: 6.8k

author's note: them in a college au has been rotting in my brain since I finished act 3, and i had to write it. it's completely self-indulgent and i understand that and i do not apologize. i have TONS more ideas for this so if it gets enough traction maybe i'll write more LMAOOO. jayvik has their hooks in me good you guys. anyways, thanks so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave likes and comments! i'd love to hear any feedback or thoughts :) have a great day!!

there is also a playlist that goes along with this fic!

tags: college party ; weed smoking ; trans viktor ; sub jayce talis ; dom viktor ; college au ; shotgunning ; making out ; sexuality crisis ; first meeting ; viktor is hot and confident and jayce loves it ; they're both idiots

warnings: sexual content, weed smoking

summary: Jayce goes to a party with Caitlyn and gets more than he bargained for when he meets a handsome stranger in the basement.

originally posted by vktrjyce

Jayce followed Caitlyn into the overflowing house, wincing at the music pounding against his skull. Three different people bumped into him in the foyer alone, the third spilling an obscene amount of beer on his shoes. He grimaced, waved away the guy’s half-assed apology, and attempted to adjust to the stickiness. It felt a little like he’d surpassed his age of enjoying parties like this. Or maybe he simply needed to be with the right crowd.

This did not feel like his crowd.

“Cait!” He shouted over the music, grabbing his companion’s arm. She turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “This is really how you want to spend your Friday night?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and leaned towards him, “Vi invited me! I couldn’t exactly say no.”

He overdramatically rolled his eyes, a knowing smile on his face, “So your girlfriend’s the partying type?”

Caitlyn’s own eyes widened, her cheeks going slightly pink, “She’s not my girlfriend! Yet…” She shook her head, dark blue strands swaying back and forth, “And her sister threw this party. She’s just along for the ride.”

“Mmhmm.” Jayce scanned the crowd, looking for a head of hot-pink hair he’d only heard about in stories, “So, where is she?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see her from he-”

“Cupcake!” A muscled arm landed on Caitlyn’s shoulders, simultaneously knocking her into Jayce’s side. The owner of said arm had the exact hair he’d been on the lookout for. Also, the ‘Vi’ tattooed on her face was sort of a dead giveaway, “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Caitlyn looked over at Vi, a pleasant smile sliding across her face. She leaned into the woman, “What, and leave you to your own devices? I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue.”

“You think so low of me. I’m hurt.” Vi teased, before her eyes landed on Jayce, “Who’s this?”

Caitlyn answered before he had a chance to, “This is Jayce Talis. I’ve told you about him.”

Jayce, in turn, offered a polite smile and a small wave.

“So, this is the brainiac?” Vi gave him a once-over, pursing her lips, “Quite the pretty boy, isn’t he?”

He choked out a slightly embarrassed chuckle, resisting the urge to rub at the back of his neck. His Mother always scolded him for having such an obvious nervous tick.

“Don’t say that, it’ll go right to his head.” Cait retorted, giving her friend a knowing look, “And it’s big enough already.”

The man barked out a laugh, “There’s better ways to show off than making fun of me, you know.”

Once again, her eyes widened, “I wasn’t-”

“Aww, are you trying to seduce me with your stuck-upness?” Vi cooed, pinching Caitlyn’s cheek. Though she scrunched up her nose, she didn’t pull away from the touch, “If you are, it’s working.”

“You’re an idiot.” She deadpanned, and then looked back at Jayce, “You both are.”

“I guess you attract them.” He winked at her.

“I like this guy. He’s not all prude and stiff like most of the people you introduce me to.” Vi commented, grinning, “We could have some fun together, pretty boy.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Vi.”

“I don’t know, the thought of you two together doesn’t sit well with me.” Caitlyn piped up, “And I absolutely do not want to be demoted to third-wheel.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that.” Jayce gave her a knowing look, sending her gaze to the floor. So he turned it on Vi. She smirked in response.

“You guys want a drink? The kitchen’s stocked with all kinds of stuff.” She offered, pulling Caitlyn closer to her.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink.” His friend responded. She looked at Jayce with a warning on her face. He was no longer welcome in the group.

He heard her loud and clear.

“You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go mingle for a bit.” He told them, taking a step back, “We’ll meet back up later.”

Caitlyn’s look turned grateful, eyes sparkling in the strobe lights. Vi nodded at his declaration.

“Alright, see you later, then.” She bid him adieu, turning Caitlyn (presumably) towards the kitchen.

As they walked away, he heard his friend ask, “Where’s Jinx?”

“Somewhere causing problems, probably. I think she was trying to make fireworks or something.” Vi’s response came, and then they were out of earshot. And Jayce was all alone.

He shifted his weight, patted his hands against his pants, and then decided he should do something. Something other than standing in the middle of this room. Watching the party go on without him. Like a loser.

He sucked in a deep breath and moved further into the house.

People were dancing, mingling, playing games, and making out on practically every available surface. He could only imagine what others were getting up to in the non-public spaces. He’d had his own fair share of trysts in his younger days. Now, though, he much preferred a quiet night in or hyperfocusing on a new project. Cait always teased him for ‘turning into an old man.’

Maybe she had a point. Just a little bit.

It took Jayce a 10-minute conversation with Salo and another 15 minutes of standing against a wall before the noise and the lights became too much. He was uncomfortable, on his way to overstimulated, and in desperate need of a small respite. So he went looking for one.

All the bedrooms were… occupied. The bathroom, when not occupied, was more of a cesspool of untoward activity than a sanctuary. The backyard was just as loud as anywhere else. All that left him with was the closed basement door. Which had an eccentric, bright pink ‘Stay Out!!!’ spray-painted on it.

He did feel bad about ignoring the warning, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Jayce opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind him. The immediate quiet, even with the muffled music through the wall, sent relief through his body. He sighed and walked down the stairs. About halfway down, a familiar skunk-like smell wafted its way up to him. But since he’d already committed, he simply wrinkled his nose and kept going.

He stepped off the final stair, turned the corner, and took a look around the room.

It was a typical basement- a couple of couches, a TV, a coffee table, and various movie and show posters on the walls. The lights were off, save for a warm-colored lamp on the table. None of it was out of the ordinary. Nothing particularly caught his eye.

What did gain his attention, though, was the man on the couch.

Pale and lanky, long brown hair with strands of blonde pulled into a low bun, clad in a burgundy cardigan and black sweats with a leg brace on the right knee. Only his side profile was visible from here, showing off a long nose and sharp cheekbones. A beauty mark sat above his thin, pink lips, which were currently wrapped around a half-smoked joint. His long lashes fluttered closed as he inhaled, pulled the joint from his mouth, and laid his head back against the couch. One long finger tapped against it.

Jayce was, for one moment, very taken aback. If this guy was a girl, he’d be stunning.

“Uh-” He grunted out, like an idiot.

The man’s eye opened, iris sliding in his direction. No other part of him moved. He exhaled the smoke and closed his eye again, “The bathroom is upstairs, on the second level. At the end of the hall.”

As if this stranger’s looks weren’t enough of a shock, his words came out accented. It sounded Russian, or maybe Czech. It made him sound melodic, like voicing an elegant song instead of speaking. Jayce found himself wanting to hear more.

“Oh, no, I, uh-” Jayce cleared his throat, then tried again, “Sorry, I was actually just trying to find a quiet place for a minute. All the noise was… it was a little much.”

The man’s eyes opened again, and this time he turned his head towards Jayce. The latter discovered two distinct things at that moment.

One, he had another beauty mark. Under his right eye, lighter than the one above his mouth.

Two, the attractiveness increased tenfold when he saw his whole face. A few strands of his hair had fallen out of the bun and framed his face. Seriously, he could be a model or something.

The stranger raised a thick, dark eyebrow, “Why come to a party if the party is going to be ‘a little much’?”

“Well, that’s not-” He scoffed, rubbing a hand over his jaw, “I didn’t- I came with a friend, so.”

Piercing golden eyes watched him with mild curiosity, “And where is your friend now?”

“She’s with her- you know what? It doesn’t matter.” Jayce shook his head, feeling a little disgruntled, “You’re the one hiding down here all by yourself.”

“Well, I live here. I can’t exactly escape the party.” He explained, tilting his head from side to side, “This was supposed to be my safe haven.”

Jayce ignored the last part, partly out of stubbornness, and responded with a question, “You live here? I thought Vi’s sister was the host.”

“Jinx.” The man explained, looking away. It gave Jayce a chance to take a deep breath. He felt like a bug under a magnifying glass with those eyes on him, “And she is. She’s my roommate. One of them.”

“Jinx? What kind of a name is that?” He chuckled.

There was no response. Only a noncommittal shrug as he lifted the joint to his lips once again. A motion by which Jayce found himself hypnotized. The slender fingers holding it, the way his lips pursed as he inhaled, the twitching of his eyelids. It looked so natural- as simple as breathing. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t realize the man’s gaze was on him again.

“Do you want some?” He asked, jolting Jayce out of his trance and offering the weed up.

He could feel his face heating up, both from being caught staring and from the offer. He’d had weed a couple of times in the past, but it never ended well. Whether it be not knowing his own limits or peer pressure, he always went too far and got too anxious to enjoy it. He was open to it, but that didn’t stop him from feeling nervous. A familiar emotion right now.

“Oh, I uh- I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

The man smiled, just a small thing, but it made a certain softness take over his face, “A little late for that, no?”

His cheeks were sure to be bright red now. He laughed nervously.

The good-looking stranger shook his head, gesturing for Jayce to come closer, “I’m joking. Come. The company might be nice.”

“Are you sure?” The question came out hesitant, but he was already moving over to the couch. Something about the way this guy spoke made him feel compelled to listen.

However, that could be the sleep deprivation talking. Or he’d finally lost it. Both were possibilities.

“I find you… intriguing.” His new acquaintance told him, watching as he sat on the opposite side of the couch, “Besides, you said you needed a moment of quiet.”

“I guess that’s true.” He shrugged, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Mm.” Humming, he offered the joint to Jayce once again. This time, he took it.

It was only then that he realized there was a cane resting next to the man. Silver with a red and gold handle, decorated with graffiti that matched the ‘keep out’ sign on the door. He wondered if it was the stranger’s doing, but that felt unlikely. It didn’t seem like his style.

Jayce took a drag, forcing himself not to cough as the marijuana burned all the way down. He really was not used to this sensation. The only thing worse than the burn, though, would be looking like a fool in front of this interesting guy he’d just met. He had to play it cool.

God, he was such a loser.

“You’re supposed to exhale it, you know.” The man spoke up, amusement lacing that magnetizing accent. It was just shy of patronizing, which strangely made his stomach coil.

This entire interaction was making Jayce’s head spin a little bit.

He let the smoke out in one quick breath, which immediately sent him into a coughing fit. He hunched over himself, hitting a fist against his chest in an attempt to clear the pipe. He didn’t think this could get any worse. Either the humiliation or the coughing would kill him. A death that he’d happily embrace.

“There, there. Easy.” A hand rested on his back, lithe fingers rubbing into the muscles, “You haven’t smoked much, I see.”

Jayce barely noticed the hand on him, too preoccupied with trying not to die. He shook his head, letting out a hoarse, “Not really.”

“Here.” The joint was taken from his hand and replaced with a glass of water, “Drink.”

He didn’t hesitate to chug half of it. Then he slumped back against the couch, eyes closed as he took a few deep breaths. The burn had subsided, leaving only a bit of irritation in his throat. At the very least, he’d stopped coughing. Small victories.

“Are you alright?”

Jayce looked over at the stranger- his savior, in a way- and froze. Those amber eyes were locked on him, rimmed with red, and hungry. That feeling in his chest tightened, making him feel on edge.

He swallowed, “Yeah. Yeah, uh, sorry. I don’t- I’m sorta new to this.”

The man tucked some hair behind his ear and laid his arm over the back of the couch. His hand was only a few inches away from Jayce’s face.

“Was this your first time?”

“No.” He shook his head, “I’ve done it a couple times before. Just… not in a while.”

“I see.” He picked at a loose thread sticking out of the cushion, “Did you enjoy it? In the past?”

Jayce’s mind was starting to feel foggy. He pursed his lips, “It wasn’t bad. I think I just… I did too much too fast. Got in over my head.”

“Mm, you seem like the type.” The man’s fingernails were painted black, the polish chipped, “To get in over your head, that is.”

“Yeah?” He smiled lazily at his new friend, “What about you?”

The man shook his head immediately, “Definitely not. I am always calm and collected. Just don’t ask anyone close to me for a second opinion on that.”

That made him laugh. He laid a hand over his stomach, head tilted back. When he looked back at the stranger, still chuckling, there was something close to admiration on the guy’s face. Again, his stomach did a flip. What a strange way this night was going.

“What’s your name?” He asked, voice deeper and accent more prominent.

“Jayce.” He responded, “Jayce Talis. You?”

“Viktor.” The man told him, and it was perfect. He couldn’t think of a better-fitting name.

“It’s nice to meet you. Even if I made a complete fool of myself with the weed.”

Viktor snorted out a laugh, taking another hit from the joint. He made it look effortless, “Not at all. You’re new to it. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

“You never get sick of it?”

“Never. It helps too much. With the, eh, pain. And, you know, it quiets the mind.”

“Right.” He gestured to the leg brace, “I don’t wanna pry, but I assume that’s what you’re talking about.”

“Well, there are worse ways to be nosy.” He responded, screwing up his lips, “You’d be right, though. It’s my bad leg. I was born with it.”

“I’m sorry.” Jayce blurted, because he felt like an idiot. The weed definitely wasn’t helping with his stupidness, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, that’s fair. I just don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“My hero.” Viktor deadpanned, rolling his pretty eyes, “Can you feel it yet?”

Jayce furrowed his brows, “Feel- oh, the weed?”

The other man nodded in confirmation.

“A little. I don’t think I had much, honestly.”

“Do you want more?”

“And have another coughing fit? I can’t take more embarrassment, Viktor.”

He chuckled, “You’ll survive. And we can try another way to get it down for you.”

“Another way? Like what?”

Something mischievous had crossed over his face, which was slightly scary, “I believe most people call it, uh… shotgunning. Have you heard of it?”

Jayce most definitely had. And the prospect was simultaneously intriguing and panic-inducing to him.

Viktor was nice and funny, and he was good-looking. But shotgunning was sort of… an intimate thing? In a way? The kind of thing you did when you wanted to get up close and personal with someone?

Was that what Viktor wanted? Was he coming onto Jayce?

If he was, well, that was flattering. But Jayce wasn’t really… he’d done stuff with men before. The typical college, experimenting stuff. And it was fine- wasn’t terrible. But he didn’t think that was really… him.

But he was also a little high. And spiraling. And he was having a good time with Viktor and he didn’t want it to end.

So what the hell? Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?

“Yeah, I- I think I have.” He spoke, finally giving in and rubbing at the back of his neck, “We could give it a shot. If you want.”

“Excellent.” Viktor patted the empty spot next to him, “Come.”

Jayce followed the order with no hesitation. Like a dog obeying the commands of his master. Something about it made the other man’s eyes light up, much to his confusion.

“So, how are we-”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. The words were cut off as Viktor slid onto his legs, seating himself right on Jayce’s lap. It sent his brain, his heart, his whole body into overdrive. It didn’t even occur to him to move him, though. He was too busy trying to remember how to breathe. Not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely slightly unnerving.

Friends could do stuff like this, right?

Did Jayce even want to just be friends? Was there something more here?

Viktor smelled like weed, cinnamon, and old paper. It drew him in with every breath.

Jayce, even with his sluggish mind, was coming to a semi-realization. While he couldn’t be sure how true it would feel in the light of day, it felt true now. Which could mean tons of things, honestly.

Jayce was realizing that he liked this feeling. He liked the buzzing under his skin, the fogginess behind his eyes. He liked the weight of Viktor on him, liked the smell of Viktor, liked Viktor. Something about him was just so magnetizing. It made him nervous. This whole thing did. But he found that he didn’t really mind it.

This was surely a crisis in the making. Something to be dealt with and reflected on in the sober light of day. He could analyze every move, second-guess every word and every reaction. He could take the time to nitpick his feelings until everything was clear. But right now, that didn’t matter.

Right now, he felt good. And he wanted to keep doing what felt good. That should be simple enough.

He nodded to himself. Literally. He probably looked like a freak to his companion. If he did, he garnered no reaction.

“Open your mouth,” Viktor told him, raising the joint to his lips.

Fuck. A cacophony of not-appropriate things flitted through his mind in reaction to the words. Not on purpose.

“Wait-” He heard himself saying, which was the opposite of what his heart (and his dick) wanted him to do. Apparently, his head still had the wheel.

Jayce rested his hands on Viktor’s hips to stop him. Even through the thick cardigan, the latter’s hip bones were prominent. It made something twist unhappily in Jayce’s chest.

Viktor did wait, pausing with a raised eyebrow and the weed an inch or two from his mouth.

“A-are you okay like this?” Jayce stuttered out, looking up at the star of his current dilemma, “Your leg-”

The questioning look on Viktor’s face turned to amusement, and he tilted his head, “That’s what you’re worried about? You idiot.”

The word didn’t even sting like it would’ve from anyone else. It sounded like an endearment more than anything.

“My leg is fine.” He hummed, resting a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. The weight was nice, soothing, “I’ve lived with it all my life. I know what I can handle.”

Did weed have some sort of magical attraction properties? The sensation in his chest certainly felt like something out of a fairytale.

“Okay.” Jayce exhaled shakily- again, not on purpose, “Okay. I just wanted to check.”

“How kind of you.” That hand left his arm, coming back a moment later as Viktor grabbed his chin. He squeezed lightly, causing Jayce’s lips to pucker, “Are you ready?”

Jayce nodded eagerly, giggling. Any harder and his head probably would’ve snapped off.

Viktor gave him a look of approval that made his lungs ache, “Inhale when I exhale. Yes?”

He swallowed, “Yes.”

The man half-smiled, gave him a little nod, and took a long drag. It looked so easy, so beautiful, when he did it. Which was a strange thing to think. A strange action to find beautiful. But it was, nevertheless.

Jayce parted his lips when Viktor lowered his hand, watching with expectant eyes as the man leaned toward him. Their noses brushed, sending a tingle through his skin. His breath hitched, and then the smoke was blown into his mouth. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

It burned again, but he loved it this time. It filled his chest, his brain, left him feeling a little weightless.

There was no coughing when he exhaled. Only the relief of subsided stinging, the warmth of Viktor against him. His nerves began to hum from his head to his toes.

He was pretty sure he understood what all the hype was about now. Why the drug was so popular.

But then again, that could all be because of Viktor.

Viktor, Viktor, Viktor.

“So beautiful.” He heard his companion say, and there was a thumb brushing over his bottom lip.

Jayce blinked his eyes open. It was harder than usual. Everything felt a little sluggish.

Viktor was watching him. The whites of his starlight eyes were red, his gaze half-lidded, and that hunger was back. He looked like a cat on the prowl. Stalking its prey.

Jayce had never been so pleased to feel like a cornered mouse.

“Do you like men, Jayce?”

“Do I-?” The question echoed his own thoughts bouncing around his mind. It sent a strike of panic through him, slightly dampened by the drug in his veins. He didn’t really have an answer for him. This night had brought up a lot of feelings on that exact topic, and most of them were muddy. It was terrifying, “I don’t… I’m not really sure, Viktor.”

“Allow me to rephrase my question, then.” He hummed, and he was back to brushing his fingers over Jayce’s face. His lips, cheeks, nose, the space between his eyebrows, “Do you want to kiss me?”

This question was much simpler. But it wasn’t much easier to answer.

He really liked Viktor. He was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Viktor was funny and he had a nice accent and his face was- honestly, the only word that came to mind was beautiful. He’d never found a man beautiful before.

Jayce wanted the answer to be easy. He wanted it to come to him like a reflex. But he was scared. The fear was holding him back.

He tried to remind himself of the vow he’d made only a bit ago. Analyze emotions later, do what feels good now.

If Viktor was a woman, Jayce knew what his answer would be. And that should be enough for now. He met Viktor’s gaze once more.

“Yes.” He whispered. It felt a little like signing his death sentence.

“Go on, then.” Their noses were touching again. Viktor’s skin was cold on his. Or maybe Jayce’s was just unusually hot.

“You want me to?” Jayce was over-thinking. As he, clearly, had a tendency to do. But some part of him felt like this was all a prank, or a dream. Surely, the moment he leaned forward it would all go up in a cloud of smoke.

“Take what you want, Jayce.” His voice was lower, deeper. The words curled with his accent, like music notes drifting through the air, “Hesitate, and the opportunity will slip through your fingers.”

That was all the push he needed.

He kissed Viktor. Slowly at first, awkwardly. He was giggling again, mostly out of nervousness. Jayce had experience in kissing- 95% of it was with women. And this was different.

He’d lean forward and end up squishing their noses together. Let out a chuckle, re-adjust, try again. Their teeth clacked together on the next kiss, a jarring sensation that made them both flinch. Still, they were smiling and touching and going for more. Jayce tried to kiss him and missed, planting a smooch right on his chin.

“Shit-” He snickered, pulling away. His cheeks were red-hot, “Sorry, sorry.”

“Don’t be. And don’t be nervous.” Viktor’s eyes crinkled a little as he smiled, “We’re in no rush.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He took a stabilizing breath, half-grinning, “Can I try again?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Jayce laughed and kissed him again. A little more sure this time, but just as sloppy. He leaned up off the couch, pressing his hand into the small of Viktor’s lower back. Needing him closer, closer, closer. His lips tasted like raspberries.

Viktor’s fingers tangled into Jayce’s hair, keeping his head right where he wanted. He kissed him like he was a master at it, like it was something he’d done a million times. It made Jayce feel very, very inadequate.

He nipped at Jayce’s bottom lip, pulled back enough that Jayce had to chase him for more, then plunged right back in. A gentle tug on the locks in Viktor’s hands had Jayce’s mouth falling open. Viktor’s tongue slipped inside a moment later. One of his hands came to rest on Viktor’s face, thumb brushing over that sharp cheekbone. He allowed himself to be manhandled- let Viktor use his mouth as he pleased. He couldn’t stop fucking smiling.

“There we go, you’re getting the hang of it,” Viktor murmured against his lips. His kisses moved to Jayce’s chin, mouthing along his jawline, “So eager, too. Like a puppy. Will you wag your tail if I call you a good boy?”

He wanted to be embarrassed about the comparison. Wanted to not like the insinuation as much as he did. Mostly, though, he just wanted more Viktor.

“Fuck.” He breathed, tilting his head back to give the other man more access. His pants were starting to strain a little bit.

“I think that’s a yes.” He whispered, his breath sending goosebumps across Jayce’s skin.

Viktor’s kisses moved up, up, up, until he was nibbling on Jayce’s earlobe. He gave it one sharp tug.

And Jayce fucking whimpered.

He’d never made that noise before. He didn’t even know he could make that noise. It definitely didn’t sound like something that would’ve come out of him. But it had. His face was on fire.

“Oh, you like that?” Viktor practically purred. He pulled away to look at Jayce, and his hazy eyes widened a bit, “You didn’t know you liked that.”

“No, I-” He swallowed, shifting a little in his seat, “I didn’t mean to make that… noise.”

As if his inexperience wasn’t bad enough, now he was making sounds that could only be labeled as pathetic. Viktor must have thought he was such an idiot.

The man frowned, pink lips forming an adorable pout, “I put work into getting that noise from you. I’d appreciate if you didn’t try to downplay it.”

Jayce blinked up at him, “You liked it?”

Viktor stared at him like he was an idiot. Jayce could only focus on how pretty he was like that.

“Kiss me again?” He pleaded, because the way his head was already spinning wasn’t enough. He needed more.

His companion was happy to oblige.

The kiss was back to passionate and sloppy, all tongue and teeth and wandering hands. Jayce’s shirt got halfway unbuttoned, Viktor’s hair was let down, and the forgotten cup of water was kicked onto the carpet. Neither of them noticed, or maybe they didn’t care. Too caught up in each other to remember there was a whole world around them.

They’d fallen into a rhythm, moving together like partners in a dance. It was euphoric.

“Shit-” Jayce moaned, eyes rolled back as the other man sucked at his neck.

Viktor ran his tongue down Jayce’s pulse point, kissed the spot right above his collarbone, and then bit down. Hard.

Jayce hissed at the sting, then grunted as it immediately turned into pleasure. All of his blood had gone South. His head was blissfully empty. Had he ever felt so needy in his life? If he had, he definitely couldn’t remember it.

Viktor slid his hands down Jayce’s arms, interlocking them with the ones still on his waist. His fingers were slender against Jayce’s, bony and long while the other’s were thick and strong. They fit together perfectly.

Viktor kissed him again, then again. Little pecks that left him desperate for more.

“Had enough yet?” He asked through the kisses, his lips swollen and red, “Perhaps you should return to the- mm- party. If you’ve had your moment of quiet.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Jayce asked, his breathing ragged. The question was asked jokingly, but it made his chest ache. Maybe he was doing terribly- maybe this wasn’t as good for Viktor as it was for him. He squeezed Viktor’s hands, still clasped in his own, “And here I thought we were having such a good time.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” He shot back, attempting to hide the amused smile on his lips. He certainly thought himself funny. It made Jayce’s fear die down, just a little, “Be a good boy and lay me down. I need to rest my leg.”

The nickname went straight to his dick. It also made him sit there for a solid five seconds like an idiot as his mind tried to process the words. Then he did, and it immediately had his heart lunging with worry.

“Does it hurt?” Jayce asked earnestly, hooking his hands under Viktor’s thighs to lay him down on the couch. He knelt in between the man’s legs, the right one stretched out and relaxed.

Viktor let out a relieved sigh as he settled into the couch, “It was starting to pinch. Nothing too bad, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” Jayce asked softly, one hand holding him up while the other held Viktor’s hip. He watched the man closely, worriedly, “We can stop if-”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No!” He choked out, dark strands falling over his forehead. The answer came out faster than his mind could keep up. Complete instinct. He furrowed his brows, “No, I don’t. I just am… worried.”

“Jayce, I am high out of my mind, having my way with a beautiful boy. I am fine.”

He grinned at the sentiment, even as it made his face heat up, “Beautiful? Really?”

Viktor rolled his red-tinged eyes, “You know you’re beautiful. I won’t feed your ego. Come and kiss me more, yes?”

Jayce giggled. He leaned down, “Yes.”

It was easier to kiss Viktor like this- more familiar. He still wasn’t the one leading, but it did feel like he had more control. Not that he’d minded being at the mercy of his companion.

Jayce’s hand slid down the other man’s hip, grasping his thigh and pulling the leg against his waist. He could nearly wrap his hand entirely around the limb, fingertips almost touching. It made something primal, maybe territorial, bloom in his chest. Viktor was so fucking skinny.

“Mm-” Viktor gasped as their groins slotted together, fingers digging into Jayce’s shoulders. He looked up with those pretty sunset eyes, lips parted, “Jayce.”

If he was sober, Jayce would’ve realized that his name sounded a little like a warning. But he was high, he was horny, and he had never been much of a good listener. And Viktor smelled so good and his skin was soft and Jayce was kissing up and down his throat. Really, it wasn’t his fault. He had too much he was preoccupied with.

He rolled his hips again, desperate for friction, and paused. Something about that was… off. It didn’t feel how it should.

“Hold on,” Viktor spoke up again, another warning. Jayce couldn’t hear him- he was too busy thinking.

The cogs in his head were turning, and he was realizing, and- Shit. He pulled away like he’d been burned. He watched with wide eyes as Viktor sat up, the latter’s expression nearing resignation.

“Jayce-” He began, and it sounded like the beginning of an explanation.

Once again, Jayce was not listening. How the hell was Viktor so calm? This was serious!

“Oh my God.” He breathed out, running a hand through his already messy hair. He sat back on his heels, “Oh my God, Viktor, where’s your dick? What happened to it?”

The other man watched him in stunned silence. It was totally unnerving. Really, why wasn’t he freaking out?!

“Did I crush it? Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that was possible. My Mom always told me I had more strength than I knew what to do with, I just didn’t think it could do this-”

Viktor snorted. Loud and sharp enough that it shut Jayce up, quieted his mind. The two stared at each other for three long seconds.

Then Viktor started laughing.

The sound was light, a little wheezy, and beautiful. Despite the strangeness of the situation, it made Jayce smile. He’d never heard a laugh quite like it.

Still, that didn’t take away from the very real panic coursing through him.

“Jayce, you are- oh, God.” He chuckled, covering his mouth with a hand, “It is a good thing you have your looks.”

He furrowed his brows. His brain was very slow right now and he was very, very confused. Shaking his head, he rested a hand on Viktor’s knee, “I don’t understand.”

The smile the man gave Jayce was equal parts fondness and patronization, “I don’t have a, eh, dick, as you so eloquently put it. I never have.”

Jayce tilted his head to the side as if things would make more sense at a 45-degree angle. He blinked once, twice, three times, “What?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, more for theatrics than anything else, “To put it technically, I was born a female. Which took me very little time to realize was not the case. Thus, here I am now. Not a female. My body simply… is a little behind in the process.”

“Oh.”

Jayce was the dumbest fucking idiot in the world. His face was absolutely on fire, embarrassment burning through him. Part of him hoped death would just take him now, or that this was all a dream he’d wake up from. If only to save himself from the humiliation. Viktor must have been kicking himself for spending time with such an imbecile.

“Is that a problem for you?” Viktor asked when Jayce stayed silent, an incredulous eyebrow raised. The warmth was gone from him, defenses raised as he waited for an answer.

Jayce lurched forward, desperate to fix the situation, to stop being so damn stupid. A large hand cupped Viktor’s cheek, “No! No, not at all. I’m sorry, I just- I feel so stupid.” He laughed, more self-deprecating than anything, “You’re great, Viktor- wonderful. And I’m an idiot. I didn’t- I’m sorry, my brain is not working. It’s not a problem. I like you how you are.”

The word vomit spewing from him was grating on his nerves, making him cringe. He wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was the worst.

He expected Viktor to pull away. To tell him to leave, that they were done and Jayce was unwelcome. He expected to be shunned for his idiocy. He would’ve deserved it, too.

Instead, the man huffed out a laugh. He shook his head, “I’m not sure I’d go so far as to call you an idiot, Jayce. But it certainly was not one of your finest moments.”

“Definitely not.” He grinned, running his thumb over the sharp cheekbone, “Try not to hold it against me? I don’t care that you’re a guy without a dick. I like you. I’m just very high.”

“Oh, you like me?” Viktor wrapped a hand around Jayce’s forearm, “You just met me.”

He gave a half-assed shrug, getting a little caught up in how starkly contrasting their skin tones were, “It doesn’t take much.”

“Just weed and some kissing, huh?”

“You also happen to be very cool.” Jayce argued, a teasing lilt to his voice, “Though the weed and the kissing don’t hurt.”

Viktor chuckled. He looked so lovely with his hair down and a smile on his face. Jayce wanted to commit it to a canvas and look at it forever.

“Can we do some more of it? The kissing?” He asked before he could stop himself. This longing in his chest was more than he could bear.

The man’s eyes shimmered like starlight, something akin to pride flaring in him. He liked that Jayce wanted him. Jayce liked it too- he liked that look on Viktor’s face a lot.

Just as Jayce’s companion opened his mouth to respond, though, they were interrupted.

The door to the basement was flung open, letting in a flurry of pounding music and strobe lights. Jayce jumped a foot in the air, heart rate skyrocketing, while Viktor didn’t move a muscle.

“Vik, you down there?” A voice that could only be described as cackly called. From here, Jayce couldn’t see any part of the intruder besides black scuffed boots and two ankle-length blue braids, “Ekko says I can’t set off my fireworks unless you’re there to supervise!”

Viktor laid his head against the back of the couch and looked up toward the doorway, “I’m assuming you won’t be taking no for an answer?”

“Nope!” Came her enthusiastic reply as she rocked back and forth on her heels, “I told you I was gonna make you participate in the party. You’ve had your time.”

The man let out a long sigh before responding, “I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t take too long! I’ll be on the roof!”

Then the door slammed shut, and they were in the quiet again.

Viktor looked at Jayce with an expression bordering on apologetic, “It seems we’ll have to rain-check our kissing, unfortunately.”

“You have to go?” He didn’t mean to sound as pathetic and whiny as he did. The thought of parting with him right now made him very sad.

“Jinx is not one for patience.” Viktor got to his feet, stretching his arms above his head until his spine popped. His shirt rode up, giving Jayce a peek of smooth skin over a prominent hip bone, “And I’d prefer if my house didn’t get burned down by her antics. I like having a place to live.”

Viktor was reaching for his cane and Jayce was panicking, panicking, panicking. He didn’t want to say goodbye, not yet. His mind was a haze but he knew that much.

“Well, can I see you again? Sometime soon?” Desperate. He must’ve looked so desperate. He didn’t care.

Viktor paused and looked down at him, half-smirking. His fingers tapped against the head of his cane, “I’m sure you’ll see me again, Jayce. Some time.”

“But-”

“You can stay down here as long as you’d like.” Viktor walked towards the stairs, favoring the weight of his bad leg a little, “Enjoy the quiet, get some rest, take care of your… predicament. No one will bother you.”

It didn’t take a genius to know that the ‘predicament’ was Jayce’s not-so-subtle erection. His cheeks were heating up again. All he could do was watch with resignation as the man moved away from him. He was like water Jayce was trying to hold in his hands.

Just as he was about to ascend the stairs, Viktor stopped again. He looked at Jayce over his shoulder, gazing through strands of brown hair. His eyes shone with warmth, “Thank you for keeping me company. I hope it was as… enjoyable for you as it was for me.”

He left after that. Deserting Jayce in the basement with kiss-swollen lips, too-tight pants, and a whole lot of questions.

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neowinestainedress · 6 months ago

Text

wave | lee donghyuck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You simply couldn’t care.

Yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you can be sure I will.”

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

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

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

Haechan is going to find out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mind to explain?”

“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You think I did that on purpose?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in.”

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

“Mark, can you lower the music?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”

“I can,” he retorts smugly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grating? Really?”

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

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

“I am studying.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you mind?”

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing? I was kidding!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, anybody in mind?”

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

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

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

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

“Not yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you close, brat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not smart of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not.”

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

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

“So I know how to beat you?”

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

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

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

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

“We are not studying together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”

“Being better than you is the prize.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up, it’s not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haechan hates you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you mistake our notes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, just not every…thing…”

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

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

“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With what notes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just replied.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a deal.”

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

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

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

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

“Not now.”

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

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

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

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

“Elaborate and change my mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t write anything down.”

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

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

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

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

“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you can’t come in,” you say.

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

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

“Is it really that small?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But you love it.”

“No.”

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

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

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

“And I’ll be at the library!”

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

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

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

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

“Want to go out with me?”

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

“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”

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

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

“Where would you even take me?”

Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”

When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.

You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.

When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.

“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”

“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”

Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”

“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”

“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”

“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”

“You have a car?”

“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.

You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”

“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.

Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”

“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.

“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.

You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.

“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.

“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.

“Wanted to take the metro?”

You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”

“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”

You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”

“You have a car?”

“No, I have a driving playlist.”

“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”

“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.

Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”

“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’

“Oh God,” he whispers.

“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.

“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”

You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.

“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.

“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.

You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”

“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”

“Once,” you reply immediately.

“Twice, with the kiss…”

“You did that to shut me up.”

“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”

You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.

“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”

“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”

“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”

“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”

He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”

“And attracted to honey.”

“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”

“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”

You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”

“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”

“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”

The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.

“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.

“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”

“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”

“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”

“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.

“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”

“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”

You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”

“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”

“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”

Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”

“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.

“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.

You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.

“But it was still better than this, I guess?”

You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”

He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”

You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”

His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”

“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”

Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”

“I have some notes to edit and —”

“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”

You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”

It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.

“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.

“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.

“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.

“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.

“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”

“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture.

Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.

“Haechan, what are y—”

“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”

You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.

“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”

“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”

“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.

He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”

Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”

“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.

You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.

“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”

He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”

“What if they lock us inside?”

“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”

You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.

“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”

“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.

“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.

You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”

His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”

“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”

“Yeah, until you forget everything.”

You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.

“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”

You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.

“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.

Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”

You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.

His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”

You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.

“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”

“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.

“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”

“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.

“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.

“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”

You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”

“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”

You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.

He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”

“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”

“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.

“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”

“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”

Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.

“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”

“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.

His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”

“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.

“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.

You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”

You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.

“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”

“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”

“Stop mocking me!”

“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”

You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.

“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.

“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.

He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.

When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.

“Eager, honey?”

“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.

“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.

You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.

One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.

Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.

“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.

“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”

“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.

“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”

You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.

“Yeah? And who’s that?”

“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.

“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”

You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.

“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”

“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.

Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”

“You’re not the professor so…”

“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”

You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”

Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.

“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”

You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.

Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”

“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”

When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.

“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”

You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.

“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”

“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.

“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”

“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”

Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”

You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.

“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”

“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.

“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”

You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.

“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.

“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”

Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.

“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”

“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.

“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”

You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.

“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”

“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.

Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”

“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.

“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.

“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”

“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face. And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.

“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”

You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.

You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.

“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.

“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.

“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.

“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.

“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”

You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”

Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”

“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.

“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”

You chuckle, deciding to believe him.

“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.

“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”

He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”

“They locked us in!”

He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”

“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.

“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”

“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.

“No,” you say resolutely.

“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.

“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.

Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.

And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.

When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.

You can’t believe you followed him blindly.

Your hands are still intertwined.

With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.

There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.

Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.

Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.

He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.

You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.

But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.

“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.

“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”

“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.

What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.

“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.

“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.

You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”

“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.

“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.

“Are you hinting at something?”

“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”

“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”

“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”

“Do you?” He winks.

“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.

“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”

“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.

He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.

But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.

“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.

“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”

You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.

“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”

Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.

“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.

“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”

“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.

“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”

“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”

“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.

He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.

You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.

His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.

“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”

“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.

Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.

“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.

I played with your heart.

And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.

“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”

“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.

“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.

“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”

“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”

He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”

“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”

“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.

“That’s a crazy choice.”

“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.

“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.

One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.

“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.

“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.

Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”

You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”

“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”

“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.

“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.

“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”

“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.

“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”

Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.

“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”

Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”

You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”

“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”

You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”

He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.

“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”

He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.

You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.

You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.

“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”

You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.

You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.

The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.

“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”

“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”

“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.

“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.

“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.

“Yeah but —”

“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”

“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.

Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.

And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.

Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.

“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.

The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.

“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”

You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.

Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”

Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.

He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”

Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.

“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.

“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.

It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.

“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.

When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”

You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”

When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.

“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”

You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.

You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.

“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”

You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.

There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.

“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”

Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.

“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.

You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.

“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”

You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”

“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.

“Yeah, just coffee.”

He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.

A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”

“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”

“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.

“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”

“Who’s fucking?”

“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.

“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.

“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.

Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”

“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.

“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”

“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.

“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.

“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.

“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”

“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”

“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.

You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”

When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”

You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.

“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”

“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”

“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”

you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

@jaeymark, @hqech, @xntlax, @milkyway-vxm, @fullsunahceah,

@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun @shxnz

@haecastor, @hyucksaint, @sk8ermark, @midnightrained

@maiteeeeesstuff, @smwhrinthehaze, @yoursyuno

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan fluff #lee haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan scenarios

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leafostuff · 5 months ago

Text

Messes in Distress [Ft. Weeekly Jihan and Zoa]

Tags: BFH, 'Besties'!Zoa&Jihan, No plot all horny, Threesome, Double thigh riding, Double boobjob, Blowjob, Dirty talk, Fingering, Surprise Creampie, Anal, Pussy licking/eating, Mutual orgasm. no beta we die like man

Author's Note: as my august release i have to say: this is the filthiest fic I have ever written, throughout the entire writing process (which only took me two days) I have constantly felt both horny for those two gorgeous girls, but also inspired to keep writing and not stopping at anything.

as its also quite apperant, this is my first ever threesome smut, which I had tons of fun to write, so I do hope you will enjoy reading this fic that I worked very hard on.

PS: yes this was the post that I quickly deleted and responded with "YALL SAW NOTHING", my hand slipped on the post note lol

================================================

This party never looked as colourful and vibrant as it is right now.

Or maybe its just the rave lights Jeonghoon, your best friend installed for his house party. After all of the finals you had to suffer this semester, a proper party is really what you needed, especially in such a big house like his which has more than enough space to party just in the backyard.

But back to what you were saying, there is so much for you to see from you view at the barstool chair. From the football players swimming inside, the cheerleaders eyeing them from the other edge of the pool, probably gossiping about the latest drama or whatnot, some frat boys drinking their 7th shot of the night while dancing to the DJ's (yeah your friend also hired a DJ for the party) music like there is no tommorow, and while some may look at this and call it anarchy, you find it quite enjoyable looking at it.

Then you see them

Two girls, one blondie, the other black haired, neither you have seen before (maybe you seen the blonde one in your 2 am walks back to your dorm, fetching groceries? Eh you don't really know), both of them wearing white tops that expose their bellies and denim blue jeans, both tailored to show their curves from head to toe.

They both look happy, eyes closed while both their bodies sensually move to the rhythm of the music. It's hard not to shift your focus to them, the way their bodies stand closer than usual while they look into each other ,how they lean their faces closer, engaging in a short kiss, or how-

Realize that the black haired girl caught your eyes, the blonde girl joins her, both smiling while their eyes wander downward.

you are a bit puzzled until you look down and realize; your pants now form a visible tent. You try to look away but its too late.

the two girls now exchange a look between each other before leaving the dance floor and heading toward you, their smiles are those of good girls, however you could feel their intentions are anything but.

Eventually they both stand in front of you, meanwhile

"You are Jeonghoon's friend, right?" The blonde asks, her voice softer than you thought.

"Uhhh...yeah? Why?"

"Great" the black haired girl joins the conversation. "We need a favor" she adds, her smile is even brighter than before.

"Sure" you answer, a bit confused "What favor you two need?"

They both grin widely before the blonde speaks again. "A BIG favour..." You could feel her fingers travel upward across your left thigh.

Meanwhile her friend leans her face to your right ear while her fingers mimic her friend's movement but on your right thigh and then her hand finds itself on your currently hard clothed member.

"A favour...only YOU can help us with..." She whispers in your ear.

Take a look at the two girls again, they are even prettier from close as each feature that you saw back then is now presented to you at high definition. From their silky and smooth hair, eyes that look like trouble but you are still in place as if you are frozen and their chests that look a size bigger than what you thought they were.

Their smiles which you could swear you could see them licking their lips.

Their soft, luscious looking red coloured lips that are oh so inviting...

You are not sure if the alcohol is talking right now but honestly, you don't care anymore. "Sure, I don't mind helping you two with your...favor".

The girls' smiles grow wider as you stand up from the barstool, take each one's hand and lead them inside the house and upstairs, thank god everyone else is outside.

"i never really got you two’s name" you said, navigating through the halls of the 2nd floor until eventually you find the door to Jeonghoon's room, but just as your hand gets close to the knob the two girls pin you to the wall, the black haired girl attached her mouth to your neck, alternating between licks, kisses and bites causing you to moan lightly.

Meanwhile the blonde puts her lips on you, engaging in a steamy makeout session while her tongue grazed against your teeth, as if asking for access to your mouth which you humbly accept. It's hypnotic how her sweet lips feel on yours, how her tongue explores inside your mouth, how as soon as she finds your own she initiates a sensual dance of tongues causing both of you to quietly moan.

You both eventually part lips, gasping for air, take a look at one you just kissed, her blonde hair now looks messier than it was when you first met her.

"heh...that was good" she speaks between pants, "anyways, i am Jihyo, and the one who is opening your jeans down there is Hyewon" look down, she already finished popping the last button, leaving you only in briefs.

"Well what are we waiting for, lets get inside" you say, the two girls giggle cutely while you open the room.

in the middle of the room is a king sized bed, big enough to have the three of you on it with pillows on the gar edge of the bed. The two girls lightly push you into the bed before joining you as each one straddles herself on each thigh of yours while their hands work together to take your shirt off your body, throwing it somewhere.

Now the three of you are in a loop.

Starting with Hyewon capturing your lips with hers while her hands rest on the left side on your chest l, admiring both your chest and abs. At the same time Jihyo latches her lips on the right side of your neck, delivering kisses from your shoulder all the way to your earlobe, there eliciting an audible moan directly to your ear before going back to her masterful attack of your neck, meanwhile her left hand wraps around your cock, rubbing it up and down in an attempt to get you harder as fast as possible.

Both of them also start to move their bodies back and forth on each of your thigh, letting you feel their friction getting you closer and closer to your first orgasm.

Suddenly, a switch; now Hyewon does Jihyo's job and vice versa, during those loops, your hands go each one to another girl, appreciating their bodies from their soft bellies all the way to their slander backs, then groping one breast of each girl causing both to gasp in surprise.

Eventually after enough back and forth of them pleasuring you, it gets harder for them to continue rubbing your cock as now they leave your lap, with both of their hands on the hem of your boxers. With perfect timing they pull it down, letting your cock pop out of your cock prison, leaving you the first one being fully naked.

"Wow...unnie, its so big" Hyewon says, looking at your member that is covered with some of your precum with excitement,

"Yes baby...he is so big, and all of it...for us" Jihyo responds, leaning into her friend's lips and pecks her lips lightly.

"I do think its a bit unfair i am the only one naked here" you mention the inequality.

"you are right Oppa" Hyewon replies, "i saw you staring at our tits, when we danced outside" she adds, leaving jihyo with a pretend surprise face.

"Is that so baby..." she questions her best friend before turning her eyes to you "Would you like to fuck them first?" the question might as well be rethoric as without any doubt you say.

"I would gladly want that"

"Then let us get started" Jihyo exclaims, letting you inch your body toward the edge of the bed. Meanwhile she goes behind Hyewon, hands grabbing the hem of her best friend's top, slowly pulling in an attempt to tease you slowly about each part of Hyewon's ample breasts, covered in a lacy purple bra until finally the top is completely off causing her tits to slightly bounce at the recoil, the piece of clothing is thrown at one of the pillows.

Now it's Jihyo's turn to discard her top, this time without any teasing, knowing you can't wait anymore for the show to begin as now she joined her friend being topless, only with a black bra as the wall between your eyes and her nipples.

back at Hyewon, she is now popping each button of her jeans while looking straight at your eyes, biting her lip in arousal and winking to you. Look down and see that her matching purple panties have a wet spot in the middle, making it clear to you that she is excited, and that she is waiting.

And she is not the only one as Jihyo also started quickly working on her own jeans, exposing her black panties and leaving the two girls only with their underwear, both their eyes and panties glistening in what can only be described as excitement.

It's sinful how they are both looking at your cock lustfully like it's their favorite meal waiting to be devoured, how they both kneel down to each side of your thigh while their face get closer to their prized possession.

How they both look at you with innocent eyes one last time before defying it forever.

The scene beneath you is filthy; two girls, both equally as gorgeous and sexy, engaging in a full on makeout session, loudly exchanging saliva with the tip of your cock in between receiving the leftovers. Both of their busts envelop the base, moving up and down, left and right in the rhythm of the kiss, even your balls are not left unsatisfied as both their underboobs take care of that part.

"Fuck...girls..." you mutter, only a minute passed and you are already in a haze, looking at the white ceiling, gripping the sheets of the bed to try and gain some semblance of control. You can't help yourself as you release an audible moan, making sure they know how good they make you feel.

"Unnie...I'm getting wet..." The black haired girl whined, pulling away from Jihyo's lips with an audible 'pop', panting to catch her breath before leaning back into the kiss

"me too baby," she breathily mumbles between kisses. "just a couple more seconds, i can feel him getting close ...".

eventually the first round of the white liquid came out, glazing both of their lips and tongues however they dont stop, even when some of your cum falls inside their mouth they continue, mixing both of their saliva with your cum, making both of their face messier by the second.

More cum erupts from your cock, painting the two girl's faces, some even get on their bras as you can feel yourself relieved with each string you shoot, soon enough the two girls release from their makeout session and rise up to sit on the edge of the bed, finally letting your cock rest, but not for long.

"Oh…you are still hard Oppa..." Hyewon exclaimed, cleaning some of your cum on her face before slightly pushing you closer to the middle of the bed, her previously innocent looking smile now has changed into a slutty grin.

“Let me help you”

You don't even need words to show you agree as now hyewon hands go behind her back, letting an audible click be heard as her bra falls onto the bed, giving you a front view of her now hardened nipples.

Jihyo, seeing what her bestie is planning, quickly unclasped her bra as well and throwing it somewhere. Then they both, at the same time take their hands to their panties, quickly lowering them down their thighs, to their legs and then out of their bodies, finally joining you in being fully naked

Just the sight of the two girls' boobs being shown to you in their full glory and the way both of their neatly shaven pussies are leaking is enough to get your throat dry, unable to mutter a single word and only stare at them in awe.

Then, their second round of pleasure begins

Hyewon now leans down toward your shaft, letting her slender finger pump you one last time before her luscious lips envelope around the tip of your cock.

Her first slurp is enough to get you to moan loudly and move your head back in pleasure, then she starts moving her lips up and down at a steady pace, making sure every movement is audible with slurps, licks and everything in between. It's even worse when you see how her deer-like eyes stare directly into yours.

You are surprised to see how big her mouth is, as even though a lot of your cock is inside her mouth, she is still able to take more. Eventually your tip reaches the back of her throat, now deepthroating you

“She is taking you sooo well, isn't she?” You didn't notice when Jihyo snaked behind you, her tits on your back while her hands glide around your pecs. her cloudy lips delivering sweet pecks to your neck and ear as only after processing all of the senses that she delivers you manage to get a small nod and mumble a small “ngh”

She cutely laughs at your attempt at her response. “I bet her lips feel so sweet on your big, thick cock” she whispers directly into your left ear, not expecting a seemingly sweet, adorable girl like her to speak such filth but for some reason, it excites you.

“I can't wait for you to fill both of our good girls holes with your thick, warm and sticky cum, letting you fuck us like your little slu-OH FUCK” but enough is enough as you finally lose your temper, silencing Jihyo by pushing your two left fingers into her wet pussy, your right hand starts groping one of her boobs while your lips connect with her own.

you three are now a mess.

You have Hyewon, her mouth fully coating your hardened shaft with saliva while her hands work diligently to massage your balls and inner thighs. Her eyes aroused by seeing you, fingering and groping her best friend to the points she stop messaging you with her right hand to finger herself to not leave herself out of the pleasure.

You have Jihyo, her eyes closed shut, lost in the sheer amount of pleasure she receives and gives to you, each time your lips leaves her for attacking her neck she shouts a symphony of moans, but not for long before you continue to kiss her again

And then there’s you, feeling like the star of a porn video with two incredibly hot girls. Which you have never met before and now they are naked, hungry for your cock while you fuck them in various ways.

The only way you can describe this moment the three of you are sharing at the moment is heaven in hell.

“I AM SO CLOSE OPPA,” Jihyo shouts into the air, feeling her climax getting closer with each passing second. Yours is also not so far behind, as the suction of Hyewon's lips is driving you crazy.

However just as you were about to release your load into her throat, Hyewon swiftly lets her mouth out of your cock without any gag, she rises from her prone position and hovering closely above your cock, before quickly saying.

“I'm safe”

“Huh? What are you-OH FUCK” You dont have time to react as the deer-eyed slut impales her slick yet tight pussy directly on your dick, you could swear you see tears in her eyes from the pain she is feeling but its quickly replaced with tears of joy, signaling you that she wants this.

“UGHHH, YES” She curses loudly after the first explosion of cum erupts inside her. Then quickly comes the second, the third and even the forth, each pump gets Hyewon to a level of ecstasy she never felt before as she rolls her eyes backwards and lets her tongue hang out of her mouth while her orgasm flows onto the base of your dick.

At the same time your fingers also get coated by Jihyo's own fluids, moaning unintelligible words but it was clear that she was enjoying every second of her high. Eventually your mutual orgasm comes to an end, as you all fall into the bed, both girls on different sides while you are in between them.

For a moment the surrounding goes silent. No club music from outside the house, no chatter from drunk university students, the only sounds the three of can comprehend are each other’s synced up breathing, attempting to recover from your lust-filled haze. Finally, Hyewon gathers enough strength to talk.

“Oppa…are you…done” a breathy question came from her mouth as for the first time tonight, her eyes looked at yours with pure innocence.

You can't help but giggle at her question and lean forward to peck her lips. “I think with sexy you two are…i dont think i will ever be done” you respond.

“Oh, That's great to hear Oppa…” Jihyo interrupted your small talk with her friend. Take a look at her, her hair messy and ruffled, her entire body filled with a mixture of sweat and cum.

“Because…i haven't got your cum inside me yet…” she adds, her hands now go to her hair, smoothing it from any random strands and then parting it in the middle, creating two symmetrical ponytails from each side of her head.

“But…” another pause as she turns herself face down, letting herself gain control as she raises her body up while keeping her arms and knees on the mattress, her soft and curvy ass pointed up and directly at you before saying.

“I want it in my ass”

And just like that, you could feel yourself getting hard at the view, it's not hard to see how Jihyo's pussy is still wet and is leaking on the sheets, telling you that she is ready for her turn, but before you cave in to her request, her eyes turn toward Hyewon.

“Baby…i want to eat you out, i bet Oppa’s cum tastes as sweet as i think…” She gestures to her best friend, quickly Hyewon shifts in front of her face, sitting in a way that gives easy access to her pussy for Jihyo.

Realize that Jihyo's two ponytails are your handles, you grab each one with your hand, the blonde girl looks back at you one last time with a wide smile and shining eyes, signaling to you that she is ready for you.

And with that out of the way, you begin.

Starting a chain reaction, you pull both of Jihyo's ponytails and slam your cock deep into her asshole. In response, she elicits a moan but quickly she inches her tongue toward Hyewon’s entrance licking out some of your cum that was left over which causes Her to clamp her soft and meaty thighs around her best friend’s head and join Jihyo with her moans.

“Fuck, unnie…it feels so good” The deer-eyed girl moaned, quickly getting aroused again seeing her best friend eat her out while being pounded by you from behind.

“I know ugh baby…he ugh is so deep inside ugh my ass” Jihyo tries to mumble to her friend in between pounds from you and licks from her. Meanwhile, you are silent, lost in the cloudy haze of pleasure from how tight her ass is, only sometimes releasing a groan.

Eventually you start increasing your pace, and it seems that Jihyo’s enjoys it, mostly by the fact that she also starts moving her butt toward your dick, letting you hear breathy moans such ‘yes’ or ‘more’ while still having the energy to pleasure Hyewon, who was holding her best friend's head close to her pussy in order to get eaten out more often.

As you start feeling yourself getting closer to your ends, you mutter loudly. “Shit girls, I am gonna cum”.

“Load it in her ngh ass Oppa” Hyewon managed to respond, struggling to not vocalize her pleasure. “I bet my cock-slut unnie would love getting filled by your thick cum, just like you did to my pussy” she dirty talks, getting you one step closer to where they both want you.

“YES, PLEASE OPPA” Jihyo loudly moans while turning her face back to you. “CUM INSIDE ME, FILL MY SLUTTY ASS WITH YOUR COCK, AS MUCH AS YOU WANT”.

And then, you finally cave in to their requests as for the final time of the night, your cock shoots one last string of cum into Jihyo's ass, one last Lick of Jihyo's tongue into Hyewon’s Cunt and one time where Hyewon clamps her thighs on Jihyo’s head the three of you moan from the sheer pleasure that overwhelms your bodies and then you all fall into the bed.

Once again the room is quiet, no one dares mutter a word, you all have enough strength to just look at each’s now with tired yet happy eyes.

And in your mind, only one thought pops in your head, and you know that both Hyewon and Jihyo were thinking about the same thing as well.

“Best. Sex. Ever”

================================================

Started writing in 6/8/2024

Finished writing in 7/8/2024

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #weeekly #weeekly jihan #weeekly smut #jihan smut #weeekly zoa #zoa smut #male reader smut #male reader #x male reader

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goldfades · 9 months ago

Text

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | paigey being your girlfriend - a list of relationship "headcanons"

─ warnings | in a bullet-point formatting, i hope you guys like it! fluff (lmk if yall want nsfw ones bc i can provide), paige being DOWN BAD, social media tingz, maybe alluding to being outed but not really, some angst but you can skip over it, paigey being protective (duh), nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | THIS IS SUCH LONG MESS BECAUSE I'M HAVING PAIGE BRAINROT RN, but i hope y'all enjoy nonetheless LOL being in my paige era i've read so many of these and i'm sure you guys have as well, so i'm making this as unique (or descriptive) as i possibly can to make it because it's more fun to read (and write cus im a sucker for details)

PRE-RELATIONSHIP STUFF

when you guys first started dating, i feel like paige would be kind of secretive about it

maybe secretive isn't the right word but very... private but not secret type of vibe (at least irl)

not because she doesn't want to show you off, because believe me, she wants to (she's a bragger what can i say)

but just because she wants to keep you all to herself for a while

she knows that as soon as people find out about it, everyone will be talking about it and making assumptions and she just wants to keep you to herself

at least for a couple months

she doesn't care about the public's opinions but she wants to make sure that y'all are LOCKED IN before she makes it public on social media

but it's clear to paige that y'all are very much locked in after the first couple weeks

she's not new to relationships and she's had her fair share but she can tell that it's different now

so the whole "not sure if i wanna hard/soft launch her cus what if we're not a long term" sentiment turns into "i wanna keep this special thing to myself ONLY for at least a couple months"

and of course the entire team knows paige is down bad for you, they've never ever seen her this WHIPPED

because paige seems like she'd be nonchalant and SHE IS... for people she doesn't give a fuck about

so when she likes someone, she LIKES someone

she is extra what can i say

they tease her about it and in any other situation, she would be annoyed but she loooooooves it because it's like "yeah i'm in the best most awesome relationship with the cutest sweetest and kindest girl in the PLANET"

you and paige would've definitely known of each other since freshman year but like... she's kinda intimidating so you sorta tried to steer clear of her

you were really close with some of the girls on the team, specifically azzi so you saw paige kind of a lot

but sophomore year, azzi kind of pushed you guys to be close and since she knows you guys so well, IT WORKED!

you guys clicked so quick and that doesn't happen a lot with paige, it takes a lot to earn her friendship

but you practically ripped down all her walls within like an hour of talking to her

definitely the first one to catch feelings

at least... to her ;)

very much friends to lovers trope with lots of sexual tension cus who doesn't love that?

i feel like after 3 months of being really close friends, you guys would spend like a shit ton of time together

you guys were ALWAYS together

she even tried to convince you to come to practice with her but you said no cus... what the heck

everyone knows... EVERYONE knows that paige likes you

and it kind of becomes like cemented (for paige at least) after she realized you were her literal COMFORT PERSON

like after every terrible, long practice or after losing games all she wants to do is be AROUND YOU so she could forget about everything

especially when she gets injured, she's such a wreck and the only person who made her feel better was you

it wasn't even what you said or what you did, it was simply just you

and after going through such a bad time with you, she realized that she liked you and she can't keep pretending

and she asked you (yaya!) and you said yes cus you liked her back (yaya!) and everything is just YAYA

so it's safe to say she knows she's found her soulmate within a month of knowing you

but she doesn't wanna seem like she's love-bombing you or whatever so she pretended to be nonchalant

which of course FAILS because she's down bad

so she tells you she loves you within like a month of dating

i KNOW it seems bad but you guys both felt it because of the whole injury and spending every moment together

when you know, you know vibes

she told you she loved you after you were there for her through some of the worst times of her life and you said it back of course and it's all cutesy

paige's love language is TOTALLY quality time and touch

even before you were dating, she just liked having her hands on you whether it was like holding your hand while walking through a crowd, or braiding your hair, or putting her head on top of yours or something as simple as just HUGGING you

but she kept it cordial of course cus y'all weren't dating

yeah that was all thrown out the window as soon you became her girlfriend

hands on you at ALL times, it becomes so subconscious neither of you even know you're doing it anymore

so remember that whole secret relationship thing?

well... everyone kind of figures it out online after like 3 months of dating

it was because of paige, poor girl couldn't keep her hands and lips off of you after a particularly hard game and somehow 🤨🤨someone gets a picture and it was all over twitter and tiktok the next day

literally "paige bueckers girlfriend" trending after an hour of getting posted

but neither of you cared too much about it because A. it was totally worth it cus the kiss was 😫😫😫 and B. she finally doesn't have to turn off her girlfriend mode when she's with you at games

cus she has the prettiest and best gf in the world and she wants everyone to know that

the only reason she was slightly annoyed was because she couldn't hard launch you on instagram :( poor girl had potential captions in her notes :( cus she's our little drama queen:(

but that doesn't stop her cus she ends up doing it! (shameless plug right there hehehe)

now that she can freely touch you and just be herself finally, she literally doesn't GAFFF

of course nothing like over the top because sure she loves PDA to a certain extent and she's an athlete so she needs to keep it civil

RELATIONSHIP STUFF

we've already covered how paige is a physical touch and quality time girly

and paige loves spending literally all her free time with you because you just recharge her

but it isn't in like an overwhelming way

paige understand that sometimes you need quiet time (or vice versa) but the thing is she doesn't even need you to talk just being around you is enough

so idk if it's necessarily QUALITY time but just being around you and spending every free second she has with you tells you that she is in love with you

paige is the most protective person IN THE WORLD, not just with you like in general

it doesn't even have to be someone she knows, if she sees someone giving someone else a hard time SHE WILL STEP IN!

and with her friends, y'all have seen her... she does not back down and will literally murder anyone who comes for the people she cares about

so if that's with people she doesn't know, and her friends, you guys can imagine how crazy she gets over you

if somebody says something even slightly consendecing or mean, slap. someone looks at you the wrong way? slap. somebody breaths wrong around you, slap.

obviously she won't lay a hand on them first but likeeee would she back down, nope

she is actually your guardian angel

like at parties, her hand is always on you and she never ever leaves your side

you need to get a drink, she's coming to

if you need to pee? she'll wait in the bathroom for you

yeah don't expect her to leave your side

because even when she IS by your side, there is always a weirdo in your guys' ear trying to get with one (or both!) of you

but yeah she's not afraid to defend you when it comes to literally anything

and this doesn't only apply to strangers, if there is someone that you know (your friend, her friend, etc) she WILL stand by you and defend you

like she doesn't shy away from confrontation, she will say something but only if you want her to

and GOD HELP THEM if you shed a single tear, cus the next morning you bet she's saying something

like i said, paige is a confrontational person and that means she's the biggest communicator

if she has a problem, she will tell you so that you guys can fix it

but sometimes she can come off a little argumentative and like she's just attacking you

she uses a lot of "you" statements so it seems like she's pushing the blame all on to you

so that can be the root of a lot of your guys' arguments when paige is only trying to solve the issues

but of course paige doesn't back down so she will be arguing with you even if she doesn't even know why, she just hates being wrong

but she doesn't let you leave or go to sleep unless the problem is fixed (or at least on the road to being fixed)

she'll give you space, she'll go another room to take a breather but she will not let you leave until it is fixed

usually after the breather you guys can come to an agreement and then paige usually hugs all the anger outta you

cus who could resist her?

if the argument lasts a couple days (it usually doesn't unless it's something serious) paige will talk it out with her mom or her friends

and you'll usually do the same

and paige will force you to sit down and talk about it until it is FIXED because she hates not being able to talk to you

and when you guys do eventually talk about it, especially if it's a serious topic, it will end with tears with both parties

but you guys always make up and everything will be better

okay okay no more angst ... for now hehehe

i feel like paige's nervous tic would be braiding the ends of her hair so i feel like that would transfer to YOU somehow

she just likes braiding your hair!!!!!! or just running her hands through your hair, it would help her relax

and if you're like me, it will help you relax as well

if you're black/have braids, she would only touch your hair if you let her!

paigey takes pictures OF EVERYTHING so obviously that includes you

her camera roll consists of ONLY you atp, like... 20% pics of literally anything else, and the rest would just be pictures of you or something to do with you

and oh my gosh don't get me started on the damn .5's of you, some of them are HORRENDOUSSSS and paige uses them as reaction pictures sometimes

and you found out from azzi that she does indeed use them in the girls groupchat

but she argues that you just look adorable which you respectfully disagree

oh and don't get me started on her tiktok drafts, she has at least 1,000 (rip her storage)

and when y'all started dating she just makes cute relationship tiktoks but she never posts them

EXPECT the "you're spinning me around, my feet are off the ground one" cus she wants to prove to the world that she has muscles

and the tiktok girlies will cry but WHO CARES!

oh and if you're on the basketball team, they will started to fan-girl over you as well

HELLA TIKTOK EDITS

and paige will favorite, repost and comment on them

like the most down-bad, insane comments you can think of

"GET THE STRAP GET THE STRAP!" is one of many ✨✨

if you aren't on the team, trust the tiktok girlies will find a way and they will make edits of you

and paige will do the same

obviously you do the same for her, your favorites are just paige edits atp (mine too)

ESPECIALLY THE GET IT SEXY ONE OMLL

and everyone will make ship edits and cutesy things like

"omg the way paige looks at her" and like a slideshow of paige being like all 😍😍😍

after paige gets more comfortable with like the media knowing about you two, she posts you every five seconds

usually like stories and stuff and especially if you’re also a basketball player, she reposts ALL your stuff

she is a proud gf !!!

she also has a highlight FOR SURE, she loves

also she def has like 10 diff wallpapers of you and her, some are really cute and some are really… 🫣

also paige strikes me as the type to like be texting you ALL DAY

and girl doesn’t care if you reply, she will send you 8 consecutive messages of different things

“omg look at the group chat 😂 *insert screeshot*” “baby they ran out of fucking caramel at dunkin, how does that happen ?” “i ended up going to a local cafe why did this shit cost me 9$” “baby you’re coming to my game on saturday right?” “HAHA look at this meme 😂” “why haven’t you responded to my tiktok’s in 2 days?”

yes she 100% uses the laughing with tears emoji argue with the WALL

or skull emoji

she also sends you 20 minute snapchat vlogs and they’re so chaotic, especially when she’s at practice or something

kk will steal her phone and say hi then you’ll hear them play fighting for like 80% of the vlog

also she does grwm’s on snapchat too when she’s at away games and her morning voice is SOOOO SEXY CUTE

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #uconn headcannons #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #women's college basketball #wcbb fic #wcbb x reader #wcbb

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wandanatrules · 7 months ago

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Hi there!! I saw that you were taking request so I thought I’d put one in! I’m obsessed with a rich/Silver fox Nat x innocent reader. Silver fox Nat is definitely manipulative and possessive and is obsessed with R. Maybe for the fic nat just had a really stressful day and gets home late and needs to take her anger out on R? Maybe g!p too? Up to you! definitely super kinky

Try To Keep Me

hey idk if this does your request justice, but I hope you enjoy!! not proofread

word count: 1.5k

pairing: CEO silver fox beefy g!p Nat x housewife fem reader

warnings: smut, nat has a penis, cnc, angst, cursing, slapping, arguing, name calling, breeding kink, lactation kink, (let me know if I miss any )

You were done waiting on her. She told you that she was done with the broken promises, and the worst part was that you believed her. When you agreed to be her housewife you thought it would be less cooking, cleaning, housework and more wife.

It seems as though all you do is cook the meals that she demands, yet she never actually eats, do her laundry, clean her house, and be used as her personal fucktoy. She was never like this when you guys were dating. You used to have fun together, she used to look at you with that special twinkle in her eyes, while she held your hands and showered you with praises. You couldn’t remember the last time she even complimented you on something other than your body.

Yet you stayed, it’s not like she didn’t love you, I mean she paid the bills, you never wanted for anything. And the sex. The sex was incredible. She would take you whenever she wanted and it was always hot and passionate. You just wished she would bring romance back into the relationship and make you feel wanted.

You figured Natasha didn’t try anymore because she got too confident that you would never leave. She’s every woman’s dream being a millionaire CEO, who is exceptionally sexy, with her long red hair and the muscular body that she spends hours upholding everyday in the gym. But that didn’t matter to you, you missed the Natasha she was when you were dating, your gentle Natty who would pursue you each and every day, take you on thoughtful dates and cuddle you to sleep every night. You were going to teach her that she needs to put in effort in order to keep you.

”Babe, i’m home.” she says, walking through the front door throwing her stuff to the side, expecting you to pick it up later. “Where are you?” she wondered why you weren’t in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up like you normally were.

Walking through the house to look for you, she noticed the light was on in the closet of the master bedroom. “What are you doing, babe?” She asked with a furrowed brow as she saw you haphazardly throwing clothes into bags.

”Packing!” You said with a tight lip, pacing around the room trying to get your stuff together.

”Baby, stop! What’s going on? Where do you think you are going?” She said with an amused smirk.

“What the hell do you think is so funny! Everyday you come in here and treat me like i’m your fucking sex slave that’s just here to please you and be your maid! I am packing my bags and staying with my sister.”, You said while trying to push past her before she grabbed you by your wrist to stop you and turn you to face her.

“You’re not gonna leave me baby, you know I love you. Daddy is just so stressed out from work, that it’s hard for me to do all the romantic things you love to do.” She says while holding you by the waist.

“It’s just that I want you to try, there are tons of women that would beg to take me out and buy me flowers, so I think I am going to go find one of them.” You said trying to break away before feeling a harsh sting on your cheek.

“You are such a slut, any excuse to whore yourself out to everyone. I bet this bag is filled with skimpy thongs and tight dresses for you to escapade around the town in.” She says as she rips the bag out of your hands and grabs both of your hands behind your back and leads you to the bed.

Pushing you face down on the bed, she rips your house dress down as you try to wriggle from her hold and smiles when she sees that you are without underwear.

“Look at how pretty you are baby, I can’t believe you thought you were gonna leave me. You are mine, all the panties in that bag are only for me to see. Do you understand!” She says as she harshly slaps your ass. “You know maybe if I fill you up and make you pregnant you’ll be happier with my long hours, having someone to keep you company.

“Come here.”, She says pulling you up into all fours, before swiping her fingers through your pussy. “You’re so wet for me baby. Is the thought of me getting you pregnant turning you on?”

“Yes daddy. Please fuck me, i’m sorry.”, You said while humping back into her trying to reach back and unbutton her dress slacks.

She swats your hands and moves to unbutton her pants and pull them along with her underwear down and tosses them across the room. Her 9 inch length pops out and hits your cunt and starts to harden, she then begins to jerk herself off in order to fully harden.

Before slipping in she spreads your ass with hands on both cheeks and licks all throughout your cunt, up and down taking your clit between her teeth. “My goodness baby, I can never get over how good you taste.”, She says after pulling away and planting kisses all over your ass and cunt, licking and sucking on the skin of your cheeks in order to leave bruises.

“God baby you make me so hard I just have to fuck you.”, She says after pulling away from your ass and lining her cock up with your entrance. With one strong thrust she bottoms out causing you to yelp. Picking up the pace, she grips your hips and with a steady speed she continues to ram into you from behind.

“Oh Natty, please it feels so good. You fuck me so well, I can’t take it i’m gonna cum.”, You say humping back onto her trying to match her pace.

“Oh not yet baby, you better hold it until I fill you up with my kids.” She husked into your ear, while reaching down to play with your clit. That combined with the unmatched stamina she has from her daily workouts, is making it impossible to hold out.

”Please, please, please, Nat please I’m gonna cum!”

“Okay baby, don’t worry I got you. I’m right there with you, so cum when you’re ready.” She grunts out in your ear while violently ramming into you trying to catch her high. “Uhh, there you go. Take it all, baby take all my cum.” She releases her load into your cunt, causing you to come right after her. Pulling out she flips you over and pushes you onto your back, fingering the oozing cum back into you to make sure it sticks.

Pulling her fingers out of your cunt, she licks them and then kisses up your body. Starting between your thighs, she kisses a trail up your stomach, stopping when reaching your chest. “You’re gonna look so sexy as the mother of my children.”, She says while pulling your nipple into her hot mouth, sucking and taking the other one between her skilled fingers, pulling and twisting. “I can’t wait for these tits to be filled with your sweet milk, for me to drink.”

“You know you can’t just fuck me and expect me to forget what i’m upset about!”, You say in between moans as she continues her assault on your boobs.

”Okay, yeah you’re right baby. Tell me, what were you upset about?”, She says, lifting her head from your breasts, looking face to face, with a smirk.

“No, i’m being serious. Of course I want us to have kids, but I don’t want to feel like a single mother. I want a wife that cares about her kids and spends family time with them and her wife. Please, Nat, I hate that I have to beg you to romance me and make me feel like I mean something to you!” You sit up and cover yourself with the blanket, while you wait for her to reply.

“Yes I understand baby, come here.” She says while pulling you into her lap. “I know i’m not the most present with you, and it seems like I only care about your body when I am stressed out from work, but I don’t. You are the love of my life, and I couldn’t live without you. I am so sorry that I have been so lousy at showing you that. I promise that I will try everyday to show you how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I don’t even know what I was thinking, not treating you like the goddess you are.” She said, grabbing you by the face and placing a kiss on your mouth.

You move to straddle her hips and grind down on her length, “Okay, baby if that’s how you feel I think we should keep going if we are gonna start trying to have a family.”, You say, leaning in to kiss her again.

#natasha romanoff smut #beefy!nat #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #g!p natasha #wlw smut #wlw #lesbian

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httpsserene · 1 year ago

Note

hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had �� drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

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oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now.

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate.

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental.

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back.

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives.

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed.

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened).

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science.

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline.

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver.

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch.

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed.

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap.

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

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tales-from-elysivm · 10 months ago

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★。／can i be a hero too?＼。★

ask: "I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though"

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 1,196

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo but that comes with the territory

notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)

! this is a repost from my other blog !

‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’

Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.

It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway

‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’

‘The place smells like shit too.’

‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.

‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’

Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.

‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’

[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?

‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’

Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk.

‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.

She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’

No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!

However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”.

‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’

Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:

‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’

Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really.

Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!

Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].

‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’

Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.

‘But why?’

‘’Cause it’s annoying.’

[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins.

The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon.

(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)

(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)

For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.

For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school.

But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow.

‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’

And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.

He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be?

Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.

He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras.

‘Yeah, whatever.’

i really enjoyed writing this!

let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.

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elryuse · 7 days ago

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My Toxic Ex

Yandere Seola X Male Reader

Tags : Cheating Seola, Toxic Seola, Regrets, Yandere, Obsessive, Forceful Sex, Hatred, Manipulation, Pregnancy?

Words : 3,4509 Words

This Is a Commission Work for My friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. I hope you like it Buddy.

"Seola..what the fuck". Y/n yelled, as He saw a terrible sight. His girlfriend of 2 years, have been sleeping with guys all around campus, as she giggles and moaned. Y/n was heartbroken, Seeing how seola clearly enjoyed it.

Seola his once pure and caring Girlfriend, was changed. She was no longer the cheerful, happy, and loving girlfriend once more. She became toxic, cruel, manipulative. Sometimes Y/n wondered what went wrong, What did he do wrong. As her habits grew more and more destructive, Y/n finally has enough.

After a ton of Cheating that she has done, Y/n was finally tired. He's tired hearing all of this news from his friends that Seola is with another guy, Seola slept with some guy, etc. He's done. And so, He simply left. He moved into a new College, far from Seola. He slowly composed himself, Getting his mentality into a better state. As he finally made new friends, and left the ties from his previous life.

Y/n met a beautiful girl. Eunji, was her name. She was cute, smart, and most importantly, Caring. It has been years, since Y/n felt loved, wanted. And it clearly shows, as after a few months of dating her, Y/n was committed to become his boyfriend. Eunji smiled, as she hugged him under the Apple tree. However, as Y/n may thinks this story would end on a happy ending. It was from happy, nor sad. It would be devastating.

Seola, Who all this time was busy having fun with guys all over the campus found herself stuck in a limbo. A sudden news, Her porn videos and naked pics were leaked all over the internet, and most importantly on her university. This made her popularity crumble into dust. As people began mocking her, slut shaming her, and what's even worse, the friends that she thought was there for her, turned out to be the monster that leaked all of her vids and pics.

They all laugh, as they sneered at her, mocking her. Seola was broken. The guys who she slept with, didn't bother to care for her. Instead they feel more proud than ever, as they still kept those videos and pictures all inside their phones. Seola trembles, as day by day, Her friends would leave her, and in the end, the were none left.

Seola suddenly remembered about Y/n. The man who truly cared for her. The man who actually cared for her. She suddenly cried, as She started to remember all of those good times she had with him. She remembered the time where the two got into a small fight, and even though it was unnecessary his fault, Y/n still decided to be the one who apologize first, which made Seola really happy and proud.

She imagined, if she still go back to him. Will he accept her apology. Will he still get back with her, after all of this time, and after all of this suffering that she gave him. Seola was stucked, didn't know what to do, what to act. But she thinks again and again, and not wanting to regrets her decision, she finally started to do some research on Y/n.

And to her surprise and shock, Y/n looked different. He seems happy. His smile, that once was shown to her, now shines brightly on the digital screen, He shares the world about his new girlfriend, Eunji. The two seems perfect, they lack any negativity, far beyond what Y/n and Seola used to have. At that moment, Seola cried. She had lost. She had truly made the biggest mistake in her life.

As she caresses the phone screen once more, a devious plan suddenly showed up. She could still win him over. She could still be with him. And even though this plan would hurt her and him, She didn't care. She only wanted Y/n to be with her again. And so, Any plans good or bad, suddenly become the pinnacle of the system. Seola laughed, as She opened a small wrinkled picture from her jacket. A photo of Y/n and Her. She knew, This wasn't going to be easy. But she knows, that whatever the outcome is, She'll have him back.

As Y/n and Eunji get up from their tiring slumber, He could see that today was a good day. The Sun was shining brightly, the clouds doesn't look cloudy. The evening air was crisp, the kind that made you want to pull your jacket tighter around yourself. Y/n walked home from Eunji’s apartment, his mind still buzzing with the warmth of her laugh and the softness of her touch. He couldn’t believe how different life felt now—how free he was. No more walking on eggshells, no more wondering if Seola would blow up over something trivial. For the first time in years, he felt like he could breathe.

But as he turned the corner onto his quiet street, a familiar silhouette caught his eye. His heart skipped a beat. No. It can’t be.

Seola stood under the flickering streetlamp, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked... smaller somehow, less vibrant than the girl he remembered. Her once perfectly styled hair was slightly disheveled, and her makeup, though still striking, couldn’t hide the shadows under her eyes.

“Y/n,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make him pause. “We need to talk.”

He clenched his jaw, stopping a few feet away from her. “Seola, I don’t think there’s anything left to say. We’re done.”

Her lips quivered, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry. But then, her expression hardened, and she took a step closer. “You think it’s that easy? You think you can just walk away from me and start over like nothing happened?”

“I didn’t walk away, Seola. You did. Every single time you chose someone else over me, you pushed me further away. And now... I’m done.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You really believe that? That it was all my fault? Maybe if you had cared enough, if you had fought for me, things would’ve been different. But you didn’t. You just gave up.”

Y/n stared at her, incredulous. “Fought for you? Seola, you were sleeping with half the campus. What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stop?”

Her eyes burned with intensity, and she closed the distance between them in two quick strides. “You were supposed to fight for me!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “Because I needed you! I needed you to show me that I was worth something!”

The raw pain in her voice stopped him cold. For the first time, he saw past the bravado, the cruelty, the arrogance. All he saw was a girl who was broken, who had been hurting long before their relationship fell apart.

“Seola...” he started, his voice softening despite himself.

But she cut him off, placing a hand on his chest. “Don’t,” she whispered, her nails digging into his shirt. “Don’t pretend to care now. Not when you’ve already moved on. Not when you’re with her.”

He frowned, stepping back. “Eunji has nothing to do with this.”

“Doesn’t she?” Seola’s voice was low, dangerous. “You think I don’t know about her? How perfect she is? How kind and caring and loving? Tell me, Y/n, does she make you feel like I did? Does she make your heart race? Does she make you want her so badly it hurts?”

“Seola, stop—”

“No,” she hissed, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him close. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. But you do owe me this. One last chance. One night. That’s all I’m asking.”

Her breath was hot against his skin, and despite everything, he felt his body respond. She was so close, too close, and the scent of her perfume—something sweet and floral—filled his senses. Memories flooded his mind: late nights tangled together, whispered promises, stolen kisses. But then, the darker memories followed: her cruel words, her betrayal, the way she always made him feel so small.

“I can’t,” he said firmly, trying to push her away. But she held on tighter, her fingers digging into his skin.

“Yes, you can,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “You miss me. I know you do. You miss the way I touched you, the way I made you feel. And deep down, you want me just as much as I want you.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he hated how right she was. Even now, after everything, a part of him still longed for her. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not after everything she’d put him through.

“Seola, this isn’t going to work,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m with Eunji now. I’m happy. Please, just let me go.”

For a moment, she was silent, her grip loosening slightly. Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was desperate, hungry, full of years of pent-up longing and regret. Y/n froze, torn between pushing her away and giving in. Her tongue slid against his, coaxing his mouth open, and he felt himself responding despite his better judgment.

When she finally pulled away, she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “One night,” she whispered again. “That’s all I need. Let me remind you why we belonged together. And then... if you still want to leave, I’ll let you go. I promise.”

His chest heaved as he struggled to think clearly. This was wrong. So wrong. But the ache in his body told him otherwise. The way her hands roamed over his chest, the way her hips pressed against his... it was too much. And yet, not enough.

“Seola...” he breathed, barely able to form the words.

Her lips curved into a sly smile, and she leaned in close again. “Shh,” she whispered, tracing a finger along his jaw. “Just let me take care of you. Like I used to.”

Before he could protest, she dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands already working to unbuckle his belt. His mind screamed at him to stop her, to pull away, but his body betrayed him. He was hard, achingly so, and the sight of her looking up at him with those dark, possessive eyes only made it worse.

“Wait—” he started, but she silenced him with a sharp tug on his pants. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him exposed to the cool night air—and to her.

Seola didn’t waste any time. She wrapped her lips around him, taking him deep into her mouth with a practiced ease that made his knees buckle. Her tongue swirled around the tip, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. He gripped her shoulders, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer.

“God, Seola...” he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “Missed this, didn’t you?” she purred, before sinking down again, deeper this time. Her hands gripped his thighs, holding him in place as she worked him with relentless precision.

He was losing control, fast. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to stop, to end this before it went too far. But the rest of him was drowning in sensation, in the heat of her mouth and the way she moaned around him, as if she couldn’t get enough.

“Stop,” he managed to choke out, though his body betrayed him by thrusting forward. “Seola, we can’t...”

She pulled away again, panting slightly. “We can,” she insisted, standing up and pressing her body against his. “And we will. Because you’re mine, Y/n. You always have been.”

Her lips crashed against his again, silencing any protests. She guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to touch her, to feel her. And despite everything, he couldn’t resist. His fingers found the hem of her skirt, sliding underneath to cup her ass. She moaned into his mouth, grinding against him.

“Take me upstairs,” she whispered, biting his lower lip. “Let me remind you what you’ve been missing.”

He hesitated, torn between the guilt of betraying Eunji and the undeniable pull of Seola’s body against his. But in the end, it wasn’t a choice. Not really. With a groan, he grabbed her hand and led her toward the building, his mind racing with what was about to happen.

As they stumbled into his apartment, Seola pushed him against the door, kissing him furiously. Her hands pulled at his shirt, while his fumbled with the zipper of her dress. Clothes fell to the floor in a haphazard pile, and soon they were both naked, pressed together in a tangle of limbs and desperate need.

She broke the kiss, stepping back slightly to admire him. “You’re still so beautiful,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest. “And you’re all mine.”

Then she turned around, bending over the couch and looking back at him over her shoulder. “Come on, Y/n,” she said, her voice dripping with temptation. “What are you waiting for?”

He hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, his hands gripping her hips. She gasped as he entered her, her nails digging into the cushions beneath her.

“That’s it,” she moaned, arching her back to meet his thrusts. “Just like that. Fuck me, Y/n. Make me yours again.”

The sound of her voice, the feel of her tight around him... it was too much. He lost himself in the rhythm, in the way she whimpered and begged for more. But even as he moved inside her, a nagging thought crept into his mind. This is wrong. This is...

“Harder,” she demanded, cutting off his thoughts. “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

And so, he gave in, letting the heat of the moment consume him. But as he glanced down at her, at the way her body writhed beneath his, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a mistake. A delicious, intoxicating, irresistible mistake.

“Seola...” he murmured, his voice rough.

She looked back at him, her eyes glazed with lust. “What is it? Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

And he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not until...

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting streaks of gold across the rumpled sheets. Y/n stirred, his body heavy with exhaustion, his mind foggy from the night before. He blinked slowly, trying to piece together what had happened. Seola. Her name echoed in his head like a warning bell. He turned his head, expecting to see her gone, as she often was after their reckless encounters back in university. But this time, she was still there, curled up beside him, her hair splayed across the pillow like ink spilled on paper.

She looked so peaceful—soft, even. It made his chest ache. He shouldn’t have let this happen. He had Eunji now. Sweet, kind Eunji, who deserved better than this. He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to steady his breathing. His heart pounded, not from desire but from guilt. The weight of it pressed down on him, suffocating.

“Morning,” Seola’s voice broke the silence, smooth and melodic, yet laced with something he couldn’t quite place. She stretched languidly, her bare skin catching the sunlight, and propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. Her lips curved into a sly smile. “You look awful. Rough night?”

Y/n didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Words felt trapped in his throat, tangled with regret and confusion. He wanted to get up, to leave, to pretend this never happened. But his body refused to move.

Seola sighed dramatically, sitting up fully, letting the sheet pool around her waist. She leaned closer, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm. “You know,” she began, her tone casual, almost too casual, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

He tensed immediately, his instincts screaming that whatever she was about to say would only make things worse. “Don’t,” he said quickly, his voice hoarse. “Just… don’t.”

Her smile widened, and there was a glint in her eyes that made his stomach twist. “Oh, come on, Y/n. You’re going to want to hear this.” She paused, letting the tension build, savoring it. Then, softly, almost sweetly, she dropped the bomb. “I’m pregnant.”

The room seemed to tilt. Y/n stared at her, his mind struggling to process the words. Pregnant. The word hung in the air between them, heavy and unrelenting. He shook his head, disbelief coursing through him. “No. No, you’re lying.”

Seola laughed lightly, as if they were discussing the weather. “Why would I lie about something like this? It’s true. I found out last week.” She reached for his hand, placing it gently on her stomach. Her skin was warm beneath his palm, and for a moment, he felt frozen. “There’s a little piece of us growing right here. Isn’t that amazing?”

He jerked his hand away as if burned, scrambling to his feet. His chest heaved as he backed away from the bed, his mind racing. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after everything. “You… you can’t be serious.”

Her expression shifted, her playful smirk fading into something sharper, more intense. “Dead serious,” she said, her voice low and steady. “And it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else since we…” She trailed off, letting the implication sink in. “You’re the father, Y/n.”

His knees threatened to buckle. He sank into a chair, his hands gripping the edge of the seat so tightly his knuckles turned white. Father. The word reverberated in his skull, each repetition louder than the last. He felt sick. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had finally moved on, found someone who truly cared about him. And now… now this.

Seola watched him closely, her gaze calculating. She slid out of bed, standing naked before him without an ounce of shame. She knelt in front of him, her hands resting on his thighs, her touch both grounding and suffocating. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” she asked softly, her voice dripping with false innocence. “A family? A future together?”

He shook his head, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “No. Seola, no. That’s not… we’re not…”

She tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But we could be,” she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath hot against his ear. “Think about it, Y/n. You could have me all to yourself. No more fighting. No more games. Just… us.”

Her words were like a poison, seeping into his veins, clouding his thoughts. He wanted to push her away, to scream that this wasn’t what he wanted. But the way she looked at him—like he was the center of her world—made something inside him waver. For years, he had loved her. Or at least, he thought he had. And despite everything she had done, some small, stupid part of him still craved the warmth she once offered.

As if sensing his hesitation, Seola pressed further. She kissed him, soft and slow, her lips moving against his with practiced ease. He tried to resist, but his body betrayed him, responding instinctively. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark with satisfaction. “See?” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jaw. “You still want me. You always have.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. How could he deny it when his body screamed otherwise? When every fiber of his being seemed drawn to her, despite the chaos she brought?

Seola stood then, pulling him to his feet. Her hands slid up his chest, her touch deliberate, possessive. “Let me remind you,” she whispered, her voice a dangerous purr. “Let me show you why you belong to me.”

Before he could protest, she kissed him again, harder this time, her teeth grazing his bottom lip. His hands hesitated at his sides before giving in, gripping her hips as if clinging to life itself. She smiled against his mouth, triumphant. “That’s it,” she coaxed, guiding him back toward the bed. “Let go, Y/n. Just let go.”

He was falling, spiraling deeper into her web. And as she lowered him onto the mattress, her hands roaming greedily over his body, he knew he was lost. The guilt, the doubt, the fear—it all melted away under her touch.

For now, at least, she had won.

162 notes · View notes

uglypastels · 9 months ago

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Ridlington Park | I | Eddie Munson regency!au

Author's Note: It has been a long, long time, but I am back with another obnoxious AU. I hope you enjoy as we embark on this new adventure in Regency England. This story has been in the works for almost 2 years and is still far from finished, but I am having too much fun with this and have way too many ideas on where to take it, so suggestions are very much appreciated.

Word Count: 10k

Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story in its entirety may contain:

female!reader. slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies.

Due to the adult nature of the story, this author also kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works.

The Ridlington Park Collection | Correspondence | Join the Taglist

Chapter One: A Game of Perseverance

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them.”

– Jane Austen, Letter to her sister Cassandra, 1798

Three stories high, full of balconied windows, the house stood tall and overlooked the entire street. Ridlington Park, they called it, and situated at the centre of life–that is, London–the front door of the building was enveloped in flowers matching the seasons all year long. Currently, it was bright peonies that caught the onlooker’s eye. The perfectly trimmed bushes and trees were planted symmetrically, leading up to the front doors, giving visitors the right impression of what they could await once they stepped inside.

The residing family had spent a good fortune and effort ensuring the house represented them perfectly: clean, fortunate, and grand, but all done so in the utmost respectable and modest fashion as they were never the ones to boast. The walls had a light, warm tone reminiscent of early mornings in Spring, and the interior was decorated with portraits, new and old, beautiful oil sceneries of lands near and far, and busts and vases.

The evening was slowly approaching, the sun setting over the windows of the drawing room, enwrapping everything in a golden glow. The family sat silently around the room, giving each other the peace and quiet required for an uneventful afternoon followed by a slow night of fortunate sleep. The only sound appreciated was the pianoforte siding against the window, gracefully played by Mother. Four children sat around the separate corners of their world, enjoying the music while focusing on their own activities. Like most nights, these consisted of either reading or needlework, engaging in small conversations with one another occasionally.

As typical as any evening at Ridlington Park, it was highly unusual for the rest of London– a city which runs on scandals and gossip. Outside, the streets were bustling with lords and ladies of the Ton making their way back home from the markets, gardens and their fellows’ tea parties, gossiping about the latest impropriety to have occurred. After all, such topics, no more than nonsense really, were simply inescapable. And no matter how hard they tried to ignore it all, one way or another, it would always find its way up to the Byrnwick family. Most of the time, you, Gentle Reader, could hold yourself accountable for introducing the rumours proudly, much to your brother’s annoyance, who did his best to turn the pages of his novel as loud as possible as you talked with your mother from across the room.

‘Have you heard what happened at Lady Faulkner’s ball?’

‘Yes, sordid, really.’ Your mother sighed, turning around. ‘I am sure her family is in quite the uproar.’

‘Please,’ Christopher, your brother, shut his book down in frustration, clearly incapable of making any progress amidst the conversation. ‘If she had not wanted to get caught, she should have maybe ought to think twice about being out with a man in the middle of the gardens for everyone to see.’

You glared up at him. ‘Well, it is absurd that a woman cannot even stand in a public space with a man without bringing disgrace onto her entire family.’

‘Believe me; she did much more than just standing.’ Christopher scoffed, quickly receiving a cold stare from your mother.

‘Still, it is unjust.’ You ignored his insinuations. ‘Think of how men are free to go out at any time of day or night with whomever they please.’ You stabbed your needle through the cloth a bit harsher than intended.

‘My, you sure seem to be giving all this much thought. Have you any plans we should know about, sister?’ Your brother smirked.

‘Christopher!’ Your mother scowled. ‘That is quite enough.’

‘I was only joking, Mother,’ Christopher sighed, ‘we all know she is not going anywhere anytime soon.’

You were ready to retort angrily, or at least throw your needle at him, when the doors to the drawing room opened, catching everyone’s attention by storm. Five pairs of identical eyes directly aimed at the door frame, only softening when recognising the intruders. A welcoming of surprised gasps greeted the Lord and his eldest, Nicholas, as they entered the room. Not one foot in the room, and all activities were being put to a halt as the rest of the family gathered around the men—a loving reunion after a months-long journey from the Americas.

It was a surprising return, for father and son had yet to write of their plans in recent times. The last letter was received at Ridlington Park over three weeks ago, stating that the weather was amiable, if not a bit too humid, and that the family missed each other deeply. The lack of correspondence, therefore, was also an immediate subject.

‘But why did you not write, dear?’ asked Mother, after embracing her son. Nicholas was too occupied by his youngest sibling to answer; airways tightened in the arms of his 11-year-old sister, Marjorie. His father responded instead:

‘How could we write at sea, my love? The message would not have gotten here any faster than we did,’ the lord chuckled to his wife. He was correct, too, of course. His eyes seemed to surpass the gaze of his present family members in search of the one missing piece. ‘Where is Annabelle? I thought she would be home by now.’

‘She is home, with her husband,’ you explained carefully. Your father blinked slowly, coming to terms with this fact he had tried to avoid for so long. Annabelle had married last season and was very well off, to a Duke, no less, but it was still a big adjustment for the family seeing her gone and out of the house. Even with her frequent visits, it was strange to have one head less at the dinner table; one less chair occupied each evening, one less song played on the pianoforte.

‘Ah, well then,’ Father cleared his throat, ‘then we are complete.’ He looked at his wife and five children. One day, there would be even fewer of them. They will all be leaving the nest one by one. For some, marriage was long overdue, and as a man of high society, he could not wish his children a suitor or a lady soon enough, but as a father, he dreaded the day that the following proposals would take place.

Marjorie, becoming impatient and not as sentimental about her family’s reunion, tugged at Nicholas’ sleeve. ‘Come, you must tell us everything about your journey!’ She kept pulling until the eldest brother had no choice but to follow her and sit on the couch. Soon, everyone else joined on the chaises.

‘I am afraid there is very little to tell,’ Nicholas said, taking a chocolate biscuit off the tray beside the sofa. ‘It was all rather dull.’

‘Do not be ridiculous, brother,’ Fitzwilliam, the second-youngest and still hungry for adventure and the world outside of the Ton, looked at his older brother with high expectations. ‘I do not believe you and Father had been gone this long and did not experience anything worthy of a tale.’

You listened on as your siblings bickered, arguing over the value of a story, and its worth of being told and heard. Finally, after listening to it for about a quarter of an hour, you had to agree with Nicholas; it was all rather dull. No wonder neither he nor father did not bother to mention anything but the weather in their correspondence. Their days quickly grew into a pattern one is used to in travel and business. A pattern you might have understood if you cared to pay attention.

This attention only returned to the room when you heard your name being spoken. The conversation had shifted from the events that had been missed overseas to the town's happenings. Just as dull and irrelevant, some might say, the most interesting thus far was the staff changes at the house, and even these held very little consequence to you, but to this, some may disagree wholeheartedly.

‘So, the season has begun, has it not, sister?’ Nicholas asked.

‘Some weeks ago, yes.’ You did your best pretending not to feel an effect from this, occupying yourself with your needlework that was turning out far below the usual standard. ‘But do not worry; you have not missed much. In fact, I think things will finally begin to get a bit interesting with you back home.’ Nicholas had always had a taste for dramatics and had been known for having a very… loving nature. In the past years, you must have witnessed him falling in love at least a dozen times, preparing a proposal to half of these women, going through with it twice now, with one nearly making it to the alter if not for the bride getting caught in quite a compromising position with a footman.

For the next few weeks, Nicholas was known as the heartbroken gentleman, and you would have felt bad for him… if it was not for the fact that women from all over town came around to console him, day after day, of course not knowing that when his bride-to-be had been making arrangements with other men, your brother had been too busy charming ladies himself. It took a month for him to proclaim his love to another woman again.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ Nicholas deflected your comment, quickly looking over to your mother and second oldest brother, Christopher, ‘any fitting suitors I should be aware of?’ As the eldest brother, Nicholas made it his duty to ensure his sisters found good husbands. That meant status and wealth but, above anything else, a good and genteel nature. You remembered how picky he was when Annabelle had been searching for a husband, even more so than your parents. Still, it was something you appreciated about your brother. His protectiveness showed the little heart he still held for you and the rest of your family, as much as he tried to hide it away.

Your mother bit her cheek, holding in the many thoughts and opinions she must have kept for herself. So did Christopher, who shared a very knowledgeable look of many words with Nicholas, one he understood clearly but you could not decipher just yet. However, you assumed the general message had been sent and received.

‘If you had seen the choices, brother, you would understand my predicament and situation all too well, believe me.’ Pretending to seem unbothered by the encrypted messages being sent around the room, you preoccupied yourself once more with the needlework.

‘I believe it is what you believe, sister,’ Nicholas turned back to your mother, ‘do you have a list of names? I shall go through them in the morning, see if it really is as bad as we are being told.’

You had wanted to reply, most likely in a dishonourable way, but you held your tongue and fell back in your seat, letting the rest of your family plan out the rest of your life, just like they had always done.

Unbelievable, Nicholas was home for all of five minutes, and he was already making lists. And knowing him, which you would like to think you did, it was merely a formality for your sake. He would already have a dozen names at the top of his head, ready to send out invitations to men for an audience with you.

Therefore, you were not surprised when, only a few days later, at the breakfast table, Nicholas told you about all the guests Ridlngton Park would soon be welcoming.

‘There is Mr Elton, and Mr Brookes will be coming over for tea; I also heard Lord Frankworth is interested in a visit, so is Mr Campbell, and—’ he kept on giving you names, with all of them entering one ear and immediately leaving through your other. You could not care less who wanted to see you, not after spending the last month trying your hardest to escape all of their attempts at promenading, lunching, and chatting of sheer nonsense.

‘I must ask you to be ready for your first audience before 10; a dress is already prepared in your room.’ Of course, there was a dress. All you could do was smile as you bit into a forkful of egg.

‘Oh, and there is one gentleman I would particularly like you to meet,’ your father chimed in, almost as if with an afterthought that he recollected at the last minute. You looked up at him apprehensively. ‘I had made a nice acquaintance of his father on our travel. What was his name– Harrolds, no…’ ‘Harrington, father. It was Mr Harrington.’ Nicholas corrected before looking over to you as he shared more. ‘He is a tradesman, quite successful. His only son had joined us on the ship back to England.’ The emphasis on his lineage was made with an apparent inclination. There were no more heirs, meaning the son would inherit the man’s entire wealth. ‘Certainly seems like a reasonable young man, clever too. The two of you will have lots to speak of.’

Well, I certainly cannot wait to meet him,’ you forced out a smile before quickly getting on with your meal despite losing all your appetite. At that moment, your stomach felt like a hollow pit, eating away at you, ironically.

‘You know, if you gave this all a chance, you might find yourself to actually enjoy it in the end,’ your mother commented with a tight lip.

‘I am sure I shall enjoy it then, as it means that it has all, in fact, ended.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I simply do not understand why this is a must in my life? Why must I marry this instant?’

‘Do not worry, dear. You are still young; you still have plenty of time, ' your father said, missing your point entirely and making you roll your eyes. ‘But your mother is right, too, a more agreeable attitude towards this will make things much easier.’

‘For whom, exactly? Is it for me to enjoy myself, or for everyone else as you will not have to endure me any longer?’

‘Can you really blame us?’ Nicholas mumbled, receiving a kick in the shin in return. He spent the rest of the discussion rubbing the targetted spot on his leg with a pained crease between his brows. You, besides gaining the small victory of maiming your brother, found yourself yet again on the losing side of another family dispute. Like all its predecessors, this battle ended with you pushing back your chair with a harsh scrape of the panelled floor and slugging back to your room where a dress awaited.

It was beautiful; you could not deny that. Elegant and straightforward, it accented all your finest assets for interested suitors. It was comfortable: not too heavy or too textured in its pattern, it was made of soft material that slipped right on, with the fit of a well-tailored glove. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, leaving nothing to hide behind.

‘You look lovely, miss,’ your maid said with a kind smile as she put the final pin in your hair.

‘Thank you, Claire.’ You muttered, noticing the saddened sympathy enveloping her features as she knew like no other how much you detested everything about what you were about to go through. ‘Have you got any advice? On how to endure it all?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she shrugged, brushing something off your shoulder. ‘I suppose you could try making them uninterested in you, so they will want to leave sooner.’

‘That thought has crossed my mind,’ you admitted, ‘but I also do not want to put my entire family to shame.’

‘Of course, miss.’ Claire nodded. As she finished working on your presentation, you pondered over your possibilities. Indeed, presenting yourself as improper had been your first idea, and its appeal remained, but you were too afraid of the repercussions. If the gentlemen were to think of you as a lady without any manners, all it would do was put your upbringing up for question, something your parents did not deserve whatsoever.

You also considered spreading gossip about the men coming to introduce themselves, which would scare your mother off them immediately, ensuring they were never to return by your parents’ preference. But it felt cruel to make up such lies. You were sure that in other circumstances, these were perfectly fine men. At this particular moment, you just happened to despise them and everything they stood for.

Perhaps the most appealing option was to simply not attend the audience. To run away and never to return… at least until the afternoon, once all the men had lost all their patience. But that would only cause you more trouble.

The ideas rolled around your head for the rest of the day, even once the suitors sat opposite you in the room. It was all incredibly dull, if not just mortifyingly humiliating, with your mother sitting only across the room, occupying herself with a book, or so it seemed because she most definitely was listening to the conversations attempted on your part.

‘So,’ as most of the dialogues began, the Lord whose name you already forgot spoke, clearing his throat, ‘I hear you read.’

‘Yes, ' you said, blinking to avoid staring too blankly at the wall behind the man, ignoring the balding patch atop his head.

‘Grand,’ he smiled, somehow satisfied with your response already.

‘Do you… ride?’ you asked, hoping that at the least your mother heard your attempts at making a connection and would release you from this torment soon enough on the principle of your good sportsmanship.

‘No, God no, horses are far too beastly for my liking, unless we are speaking of the track, of course.’ The man scoffed, ‘However, I prefer more dignified activities, such as hunting.’

‘Of course, you do,’ you smiled, but the expression never reached your eyes. ‘What about chess? Do you play?’

‘I do not have the patience to commit to such silly games.’

Patience, you thought, or intelligence? And how ironic of him to speak of perseverance. You watched him take another small sandwich from the tea tray provided on a side table, which you were taught to ignore so as not to be observed as “gluttonous”. After all, no one wanted to marry a lady that ate all day.

Considering that, you grabbed a plate and a piece of cake from the top of the tray and bit into it. The soft sponge melted on your tongue. In the meantime, you were asked a question, but you could not possibly answer with a mouthful of cake, could you? Once you had finished, you considered grabbing a second portion, but you could feel the judgmental look of your mother digging into the back of your head.

You put the plate back down and your hands on your lap.

‘I’m sorry, my lord, could you repeat the question, please. I fear I may have lost myself for a moment.’ And so, it continued. Thankfully, the man excused himself not long after, thanking you and your mama for the time, just for his seat to be replaced with someone else almost immediately. This time, the gentleman was significantly younger, with thick hair atop his head and charming eyes, but the second he spoke, you knew this would not reach much further than the comfort of this room. At the least, you did not see this relationship going any further than any of the other acquaintances you had made that day.

By lunchtime, you felt your eyes burning with fatigue, possibly caused by a constant suppression of tears. How much more could you possibly take of this torture?

‘Mr Elton was quite a charmer, was he not?’ Your mother commented as she sipped her tea.

You suppressed your initial thought, rephrasing it to cause less offence, ‘He is too stubborn and self-centred. He barely let me speak a single word, too occupied by his own achievements to expect me to have any.’

‘Well, Lord Frankworth seemed to care very much for what you had to say.’

‘Only because he barely managed to string any thoughts together himself,’ you sighed.

Your mother tightened her grip on the teacup before smiling. ‘Soon enough, we will find you a perfectly fine young man, dear. You just have to remain open-minded.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Speaking of, your next suitor should be here shortly.’

You did everything in your power not to groan at the announcement and instead nodded politely. ‘Who is it?’

‘Mr Harrington, the one your father was so keen on you meeting.’

‘Ah,’ yes, the American. The only thing that gave you some slight hope in the situation was that Mr Harrington had already spent plenty of time in the company of your father and brother Nicholas and had seemingly gained their blessing. But nothing could help you gain the energy to entertain yet another man with polite conversation. The sun had been beaming into the room since the early morning, only growing warmer and warmer, making the hairs at the small of your neck stick.

‘Will you just excuse me for a moment, mother.’ You got up.

‘Is something wrong?’ She looked suspicious but with a glint of worry in her eye.

‘I am quite fine, just require some fresh air, I think,’ which was not entirely a lie.

‘Alright then, just make haste, child.’ Mr Harrington was on his way, after all. ‘We do not want to keep the man waiting.’

‘Of course not,’ you smiled, heading towards the door. When the large panels closed behind you, you picked up your skirt and ran toward the gardens. Your footsteps echoed through the corridors, and you caught several members of the house staff glancing your way with inquisitive looks.

Ever since you could remember, the grounds around Ridlington Park had a fantastical power about them. It had been the turf on which you would spend countless childhood summer days playing games with your siblings, whether the competitive or imaginary type. But no matter what the six of you could think of, your favourite game would always remain Hide and Go Seek. The gardens were a perfect place for it, with endless nooks and crannies one could disappear into. It was nearly a giant maze, and you had mastered it from a very young age. Whilst most got lost between the shrubbery and flowers, you knew exactly where you had found yourself.

There were plenty of hiding spots you enjoyed over the years, some that to this day remain a mystery to the rest of your family, but nonetheless, it was the stables you adored the most. It was a safe haven for you on many days, to the point that you had nearly become invisible to the staff working there.

The stables were located in the far east corner of the grounds, and the walk towards it already cost more time than you had if you had ever planned on returning that quickly. Undeniably, there was a pinch of shame and guilt nipping at your heart towards the strange Mr Harrington, but that soon dissolved when you heard the neighing of Barley Sugar, a golden-brown mare you proudly called yours. A gift and result of a successful business trade made by your father years ago, the horse technically belonged to all of the Byrnwick children, as much as any of the other horses under the family’s possession, but the bond between you and that particular horse just turned out to be that much stronger.

This was visible as soon as you entered the stable. Barley Sugar went wild at your presence, happily swinging her head from side to side.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ you grinned, petting the horse, who leaned into your touch immediately. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’

But your plans were quickly interrupted by a voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’

❀❀❀

An average sea voyage from the Americas to England should take approximately 16 days, considering the weather corresponds with the sails of the ship. During this journey, passengers would most likely endure days upon days of heavy and tall waves bashing across the ship’s sides, and that is to be expected in favourable conditions.

As Lord Byrnwick and his eldest had boarded the ship headed to London, the sky had been bright blue, and it did not change far beyond that. There was, of course, a risk for the two of them to sail across the world as they did, them being head of the family and its heir. A journey such as this one can go awry in many ways, and if it were not for the dangers of seafaring, there were the Anglo-American tensions to consider. After all, the previous year's war was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and one could not be careful enough when entertaining both sides. Luckily for the Byrnwicks, they were not of the superstitious kind, and good fortune had always seemed to be in the family’s favour up until the very moment they stepped on the boat to return home, many years beyond that.

Ever the convivial one, the most considerable success of the trip, according to Lord Byrnwick, was not the business or diplomatic aspects of their ventures but the social. The man immensely enjoyed meeting other like-minded spirits from across the pond, and there had been plenty of fine nights at gentleman’s clubs spent over fine spirits and betting games, discussing all sorts of topics and exchanging information on all subjects. Promises were made to keep in touch whilst arrangements were made for more future meetings. It was only the polite thing to do.

But aside from acquaintances and business partners, an addition to the household had also been made. Of some sort, that is, for it seemed that the two had found a new groom in America.

Now, Gentle Reader, do not conclude of the worst, as the groom we speak of is not the sort one is meant to meet at an altar but the kind who spends his days tending the horses and carriages. The young man, Mr Munson, had been doing precisely that when the Byrnwick heir stumbled upon his conveyance services in town, in dire need of transport for his regular means, which had already been occupied by his father for the day. It was an encounter by utter chance but certainly one with greater consequences.

Several days later, coincidentally, a letter from London had arrived. Five pages long, each written by a member of the family recounting their most notable memories of the week. The children spoke of the ton's gossip and anecdotes of what occurred at home. Mother, however, took it upon herself to write of more important matters regarding the household. Many topics had to be discussed, but in the middle of her letter, there was mention of the unfortunate passing of the family’s barn manager, Mr Falstipp. It was an unexpected death, leaving the entire house in shock as the man had been working for the family for longer than the children had been alive. But it also resulted in the question of what was to be done now?

It was likely only because the interaction had been so fresh in his mind that Nicholas suggested finding a replacement for Mr Falstipp here in America. This was an unusual offer, as his father commented, especially since they would not leave for home until another few days, but that was to be resolved by having the footmen take care of the horses for the time being. Besides, Nicholas was sure his siblings would be more than happy to help with the chores.

The next day, he returned to the public stables and immediately noted how much cleaner they seemed than any other in town. The horses also looked exceptionally well taken care of and content.

Mr Munson had just been feeding a colt when Nicholas eagerly announced, ‘Mr Munson, may I offer you a proposition?’

This, to no surprise, startled the other man for various reasons. ‘Sir?’

‘This must be a peculiar request, but you see, as of recently, my family has found itself in need of a new stablehand and from what I have seen you do, you, sir, would be the perfect candidate.’ Nicholas had the smile of a man losing his sanity, but his words could not be more genuine.

‘Your family—’ Munson blinked, ‘you mean in London.’

‘Yes, and I understand that this might be a problem, but trust me when I say that you will most certainly find England to your liking, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’

‘As you wish,’ Nicholas agreed.

Eddie pondered over the offer for a short moment. It would have taken him no time to decide if it was not for what he was to leave behind, but he knew that his current employer would be able to find his replacement in no time, as jobs in town were hard to come by.

But what must have been even more challenging to obtain was a ticket out of the wasteland he called home. For years, he had dreamt of an escape, never imagining it to be possible, and suddenly, here comes this stranger offering it to him on a silver platter.

It would be terrifying to move so far away, he knew that, with many risks, but the further away he could manage to go from where he was now, the better.

Eventually, after a minute of silence that left Nicholas restless and on the verge of embarrassment, Eddie smiled: ‘It would be my pleasure to work for you, sir.’ And he had meant that wholeheartedly. While it had only been a short few interactions that he had had with the man, the young Mr Byrnwick had already shown Eddie far more kindness than any of his prior employers, or any other man in his life, for a fact. Most importantly, the man knew nothing about Eddie’s past, which must have been the biggest selling point in the life-changing choice.

‘Marvelous. You will not regret this, Eddie.’ Nicholas leaned in to shake his hand, only to realise that Eddie was still carrying the giant bucket of feed. ‘Well, we shall finalise everything on the boat, shall we?’ And so they did.

A week later, Eddie found himself still in shock at his circumstances. He could not believe he was really to be leaving for England until the moment he set foot on the boat, and even once the sails had set and the American coast was nothing but a grim line on the horizon, the fact did not seem to settle in his mind just yet.

Over the next 16 days, he had encountered the Byrnwicks only a handful of times. First, to meet Lord Byrnwick who, as head of the household, wanted a final say on the matter. A bit late, thought Eddie, as the boat had long departed the harbour by then, but his ticket had already been paid for, and thus, he had little else to complain about. He had quickly made peace with the idea that he could make his new life across the ocean work no matter the circumstances. He had done it before, so what is one more homeless night under a new sky?

But the lord seemed all too happy to have found his staff replacement. Overall, the man was nothing like Eddie had expected a gentleman of English high society to be. From his previous experiences, the type often was rather conceited and arrogant, with a transparent opinion of anyone below their class. His new employer and his son, while undoubtedly lordly, had a modest nature about them. Quickly, Eddie had also gathered that the spontaneity with which Nicholas Byrnwick had called upon him for a job opportunity was not uncharacteristic of him, as the young man was rather energetic in his step and impulsive in his actions.

But no matter how unassuming the men were, they did belong to a different rank of man and, therefore, stayed on the boat to the upper decks, engaging with the rest of their kind.

The travel moved on slowly, but in the end, it was also a mere blink of an eye moment, and before he had realised it, Eddie had reached the shores of England. It was another day or two of travel to be done by horse. A carriage had been acquired for Nicholas and his father, but Eddie and the rest of the staff that travelled with the family for their adventure rode on horseback. No matter how much Eddie enjoyed the form of transportation, it was a tiring experience after several hours, but it also allowed him to meet the people he was to work with and, through that, those he would work for.

‘So, what is the rest of the family like,’ he asked Mr Trowbridge, the lord’s valet. If there was anyone who could tell Eddie something, it would be this man.

‘Well,’ Mr Trowbridge had a particularly nasal tone about his voice that especially came forward at the beginning of his sentences, ‘I do not believe there is much to tell. They are as any other family, really.’

‘My good man, you can hardly expect me to believe there is nothing worth telling about these people,’ Eddie laughed. ‘If it puts your mind at ease, I am only asking for the simplest facts—nothing to interest my fancy.’

The valet pondered over this for a moment. ‘Very well. You have, of course, met the Viscount and his eldest.’ He took a moment for Eddie to respond with a nod in agreement. He then took another moment to consider his following words. The longer he took, the more keen Eddie felt to suggest what to speak of.

‘What about Lady Byrnwick?’

‘Lady Byrnwick is most amiable and has a very caring character, but you will not find her in the stables often unless she is searching for her children.’

‘Not fond of horses, is she?’

‘Rather the outside—-’ Trowbridge cleared his hair vigorously. ‘In the sense that the sun and pollen often leave her poorly. But the children…’ he punctuated his half-sentence with a heavy sigh.

‘They are a handful?’ Eddie assumed. To this, Trowbridge searched for another description but found himself lacking the vocabulary, leading to a confirmation.

‘I have worked for this family for nearly three decades, and I will assure you that each member is as proper a member of society as the next. While boisterous, they have been taught to be independent individuals.’ The valet's tone made Eddie consider how much of their good decorum was in gratitude for the man’s own intervention and guidance.

‘At 27 years, Nicholas is the eldest, and the responsibilities of this role are one of the few aspects of his life which he takes seriously, I cannot put any doubt behind that.’ Indeed, whilst extremely impetuous, the heir’s son also understood the duties of his position and towards his family.

‘Then there is Christopher. The boy has immense athletic abilities but not much beyond that. For a young man of his age of five and twenty, one would assume he would be able to compose himself with a bit more propriety, but it is very difficult for him. He is adventurous and rarely can sit still for an extended period of time, including his mouth. It is suggested that people be careful of what they say around the man.

‘The eldest daughter, Annabelle, married just before we had departed for America, thus is now the lady of her own house.’ Something in his tone suggested he was sad to see the young woman leave home. This possibly has to do with the fact that Miss Annabelle (Now known as Duchess Annabelle Ramsbury) was the most dutiful and respectful of the six children. ‘The marriage had been long overdue as she had just turned 22 on the day of the ceremony, but a love match was found nonetheless.’ The valet guffawed with pride. It was clear to Eddie that, while considering them a nuisance, the man cared deeply for the family he served.

‘I must admit, Trowbridge,’ Eddie chuckled in this horse’s trot pattern over the uneven paths. ‘When you began speaking of the family, I had imagined the children to be… well, children.’

‘How old are you, Munson?’ Trowbridge asked, somewhat bluntly.

‘Twenty, sir.’ Perhaps closer to his next birthday than the last.

‘Ah, just the age of the second daughter then,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘She may perhaps be the most… rebellious of the kin. It is all in good spirit, as you must imagine, and I am sure the interest in such nonsense will dwindle as she matures. She is also the most fond of the family horses; thus, you will see her quite often, I expect. But as her sibling, she has mastered the care for the animals as well as the equipment.’

As he spoke of your skills, something about Trowbridge's expression communicated particular dismay to Eddie. ‘Is that bad? For a young woman to know how to carry herself around a horse?’ He, for one, certainly did not see a problem in it. On the contrary, it was an instrumental skill to develop for anyone.

‘It is not exactly lady-like, is it?’ Trowbridge spoke as if that was the only relevant argument on the matter. Eddie had learned from a very young age that some opinions were better left unsaid, and seeing him as the senior in age and position, Eddie thought it unwise to argue with the valet on his first official day of employment. He instead simply nodded in understanding. Instead, he opted to continue the civil interrogation—

‘What of the youngest two? What are they like?’

‘Fitzwilliam is a dapper fellow. He is but seventeen, but very accomplished, though I cannot say he knows how to put his acquired skills to good use. He has ambitions that cannot be denied; it is just a question of whether these ambitions can ever be met.

‘And lastly, we have Miss Marjorie. A darling girl, I assure you,’ Trowbridge stated. I can only suggest not letting her size fool you, Munson. She has managed to wrap her family around her little fingers the moment she learned to mumble a word, leaving her to cause quite the ruckus for the past eleven years.’

‘I do not see how that involves me, Sir,’ Eddie said. By this time, the sun had begun to set over the fields they passed, and soon, the company would break for their overnight travels at a nearby inn.

‘It had come to my attention over the years that Mr Falstipp–the previous groom, that is— had been quite lenient on the children and their usage of the horses. This has caused a number of incidents that I would rather not see a repetition of.’

‘Understood.’

‘I am unaware of your er– American customs,’ the valet began his lecture, ‘but you must also know that here, ladies are not to ride unaccompanied—something that has been protested in the family to no avail, but it is simply the procedure. There must always be a chaperone nearby to supervise, whether that is a senior member of the family or an entrusted member of the household.’

‘I do not expect to have gained that trust just yet,’ Eddie said earnestly.

‘But let us hope you will.’ The smile Trowbridge gave Eddie was kind at first glance, but the movement of his eyes that inspected him told an entirely different story. He knew he still had much to learn about navigating himself around the kinds of people that were the Byrnwicks, even those who worked for them. The moment he set foot on English soil, he knew it would be challenging to fit in if he ever planned to do so.

The truth is that he did not plan such a change. For you see, Dear Reader, Mr Eddie Munson was also a radical. He did not believe in adapting to society, which was visible in his entire being. One can also imagine the struggle he had to endure when given a uniform to wear. Frankly, the ensemble did not differ much from how the man dressed himself before, but the simple fact that he was told to wear this particular set of clothing upset him severely.

On the first day after his arrival at Ridlington Park, he had managed to justify himself out of dressing in the required clothing by claiming that the trousers were a smidgen too tight. Without another size available, he was told to wear the clothes on his back until the new, fitted attire arrived.

But the clothes did not even begin to reach the problem of the horses he was meant to care for.

Turned out, while he had been given all sorts of warnings against the family, what Eddie should have been preparing for was the beasts that homed the stables. The stubborn animals would not let him touch them, and any attempts were met with angry stares and stomping of the hooves.

‘Easy, there,’ Eddie spoke as softly as he could, taking small steps in any direction that would not enrage the stallion whom he was currently attempting to feed. White Liquorice, a white Arabian, was undoubtedly an animal worthy of a viscount, and from the moment he had stepped into the Ridlington Park stables, Eddie knew that the Kentucky Saddlers and Quarter Horses he grew up with were no match for these and he would quickly have to learn to get on with them if he was to stay here.

Yes, the first days were hard, but not even one week later, he had gotten used to the rhythm of operations. It helped that, working as the barn manager, he was the one in charge and mostly left alone. Mr Trowbridge had visited him to ensure he was adjusting to the new working conditions, which was kind, but besides that, Eddie rarely saw anyone but footmen requesting the carriage to be prepared for the family.

That is until one afternoon when he heard the doors open and someone walking inside. He had been around the corner of the stables, cleaning some grooming tools.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ he heard the intruder speak. It was soft and gentle, most likely referring to one of the horses. Immediately, Eddie was reminded of one of the conversations shared with Lord Byrnwick’s valet. He swiftly got up from his seat and immediately found the culprit.

He watched you pet one of the horses—Barley Sugar, was it—-petting her in a way he had not yet managed to do confidently. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’ These words triggered him to jump into action.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ He stepped forward, but his words startled you, causing you to turn around. As you did so, your foot got caught in an old set of bridles Eddie had still planned on detangling and putting away. The surprise coming with the unexpected presence of someone else, combined with the awkward position of your foot, led you to fall over with a shriek.

Eddie cursed under his breath as he watched you huff on the ground. ‘Let me help you,’ he extended his hand to you, ‘and my apologies, it was not my intent to—’

‘Who are you?’ you said in a tone that could only be deemed skittish, if not directly fearful, but not enough to deny his offer to help you stand. Your reaction was validated as you had never met the man standing before you. You eyed him up and down, and the more details you noticed, the more you were sure that you had just stumbled upon a robbery, nay, a kidnapping.

The man's presentation spoke for itself, truly. His long hair was dark and unkept, well over his shoulders. His clothes were nothing like the workers around your house were meant to dress like, making him stick out like a very sore thumb. The trousers were old and worn, and the shirt was loose over his upper body, revealing—oh god, was that a tattoo?

It was clear this is how you were to die.

‘Are you here to steal my horses?’ you blurted out before you could think.

‘What?’ He blinked. ‘No, please, listen—’ but you did no such thing. Instead, you did the only thing a lady in distress could do.

You screamed bloody murder.

‘Help! Anyone! Help—’ you would have kept on going, shouting over his attempt at reason until he finally shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth, his other hand sturdily over your upper arm. The two of you stood there for a moment, chests both heaving in all forms of panic, listening for footsteps or any other presence, but the only sound was the soft breathing of the animals around you.

‘I will let go now, miss,’ Eddie said slowly. Both your eyes were wide from the uncultivated situation that had just occurred. ‘And I will explain everything to you, just, please—and I beg you— do not scream.’ You nodded your head beneath his palm in agreement. Eddie counted to three as he stepped back and finally let go of you. Despite him never blocking your airways, you inhaled deeply.

‘There is absolutely no reason to panic, ma’am.’ His accent was distant, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. His eyes, large and dark, locked you in, almost making you lose count of the lingering feeling of his hands on your body. He had given you a moment before he continued speaking, ensuring that you would not resume your screaming or make a run for it.

‘What is your reason of being here?’ You inquired.

‘I work here. Have been, for the past week. I think it was your brother, in fact, that gave me the position. We met on his travels.’

Now, come to think of it, you remembered your family's conversation on the day your father and brother returned. There had been talk of new staff—a young man they had brought along with them from America as an official replacement for the late Mr Falstipp. But that did not explain his attire.

‘You could be fired for breaking the dress code alone, you know. Not to mention for the, uhm, actions you had just performed.’ You commented.

‘Well, you can always report me, miss.’ Eddie, against all his better judgement, smiled.

‘Maybe I should.’ Your heart was still pounding, and you felt so disoriented that even a simple smile made your head spin. ‘What is your name?’

‘Eddie.’

‘Well, Mr Eddie—’ you began, just to be quickly interrupted.

‘No, just Eddie.’ Eddie shook his head.

‘What do you mean? Do you have no family name?’ You had heard of men bringing in street urchins to work for them, but surely, this man was too old for such charity. And you could not imagine your brother to perform such acts of kindness anyway.

‘I do.’ His smile only widened in amusement at the conversation. ‘Eddie Munson.’

‘My, is it usual in America to introduce oneself like that?’ Never had you heard of a man introducing himself by only his first name, let alone a byname.

‘It is usual to me,’ he quipped, ‘And it is more common than not introducing yourself at all.’ The way in which he looked up at you from under his lashes felt accusatory, but you could not find it within you to be upset at the critique, so you gave him your name instead.

‘Pleasure to meet you, Miss Byrnwick.’ He gave you a small, polite bow that reminded you more of how children play Lord and Lady rather than a gentlemanly act. Next thing you knew, a smile was pulling at the corner of your lips, and a small giggle was ready to escape.

For some reason, you hesitated to say your following words: ‘It is a pleasure, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ While always respecting the titles of others, Eddie never saw himself as one to follow such formalities.

‘That is most improper.’ You held back the urge to scoff.

‘But I insist.’ There was something in the corner of his eye that you managed to catch a glimpse of—this spark that no sunlight or fire could match. It was pure mischief, a spirit of chaos. But still, to call a man you barely knew by his first name was simply not right. Your family may jest as they please about your rebelling attitude to primitive customs, but you had to admit that some things ought to be done in a proper manner. And this was certainly not it.

However, Mr Munson saw it in another light but did not find enough of an interest in the subject enough to argue it further. Rather, he cleared his throat briefly and observed you for a moment.

How silly you must look in your fancy dress! Your hair was done up to match, and your shoes were most likely covered in mud. There was also no doubt that he had overheard you talking to your horse about running away. You had good faith that he could connect the pieces to form the complete picture.

A bird flew past a window, making you glance past Eddie’s shoulder in haste.

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any other plans, miss?’ He finally asked. Could you be so bold as to admit that he was saving you from other commitments by conversing with you?

‘No, of course, not Mr Munson,’ you persisted. ‘I am simply cautious.’ Come to think of it, your screams must have been heard all around the grounds. If those who heard, in turn, had an ounce of common sense amongst them, they would have called for someone in the house. If that was the case, your mother would be here momentarily, and then it was back to the house for you. All you could do now was hide.

‘May I ask what are you being cautious of?’ Eddie followed you with his eyes as you walked through the stables, looking for a hiding spot.

‘If you must know, I am currently on the run,’ you stated while looking over a haystack in the far corner.

‘Ah, so whilst you had accused me of being a criminal, it was you who had been committing the crimes then? Should I now scream for help?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, ' you said, attempting to climb the hay to get past it. ‘I have already brought much too much attention to myself.’ Your foot slipped, making you tumble back down to the ground. The accident made you stop for a moment before attempting to climb again, looking over your shoulder at the man. ‘Are you not going to even try and stop me?’

‘Oh,’ it was as if he had awakened from a deep thought or had just realised that what you suggested was exactly what he ought to do. ‘Well, would you listen if I told you not to climb up there?’

You pondered his question for a short moment. ‘No, I highly doubt it.’ Thus, you resumed your climbing. As you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet behind you. The next time you slipped up, this time from a far higher distance, he had been in precisely the right place to catch you in his arms.

‘I cannot assure you I will be able to catch you once more, so it is in good conscience that I suggest you stop, ma’am,’ he said as you got back to your feet.

‘You are right,’ you admitted. Then you realised just how close the two of you stood and quickly occupied yourself by looking for another hiding place. That is when you noticed it. You had spent years in this stable and knew every inch of the space, yet… ‘Have you moved things around?’ You looked back at Eddie.

‘Only a little. I’m afraid my predecessor did not have a flair for organisation,’ he explained.

‘That may be so, but I would prefer you would put things back as they were.’

‘Excuse me?’ Eddie could not help but laugh at the demand.

‘Your new floor plan has completely disoriented me, ' you admitted. ‘It is unbecoming.’

‘My apologies. I will be sure to put things back as they were, then.’ His laugh still echoed his words.

You had not expected him to actually agree to this request. ‘You will?’ But quickly, you regained your composure and tried to hide the surprise in your voice. ‘Very well, thank you. Then, since you have discarded all of my possible hiding locations, what do you suggest I should do?’

‘I suggest you run.’ But it was not Eddie who had answered you.

‘Mother, ' you gasped. What was it, in God’s good name, with everyone sneaking up on you today? Lady Byrnwick stood at the threshold of the stables with her arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she took a step inside. You prepared yourself for a disciplinary outburst, but instead, your mother focused on the man standing next to you.

‘You must be Mr Munson.’ The kindness in her voice was laughable. The overcompensation of her kindness threw both you and Eddie off.

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ You noticed that he bowed his head in a much more orderly fashion than he had done to you.

‘I hope my daughter has not been too much of a nuisance.’

‘Not at all.’ Eddie politely replied.

‘Good, good. Well, I can already see that my son did a good job in finding you,’ she stated as she looked around the retouched interior. ‘And I hope that you will grow to enjoy England.’

‘I’ve had nothing to complain of yet.’ Eddie proudly said with that smile of his, and for a moment, you thought to have caught his eyes on you for just a second. Your mother nodded along with his words in satisfaction, but this cheeriness dissipated as soon as she directed herself to you.

‘Has your headache cleared, dear?’ Her eyes were spitting fire.

‘Yes, mother.’

‘Then we will be on our way.’ She stepped aside, giving you room to walk outside. ‘Goodbye, Mr Munson.’ Eddie had become the unintentional victim of the venom that perferred your mother's words.

He was polite enough to look away as you made your shameful walk through the aisle between the horses’ stalls, but you couldn’t help but look behind you one final time as you left and catch his favourable grin. What a peculiar man he was, indeed—one whose presence you immediately began to miss.

Perhaps that was because of the company you were in at the time.

‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Your mother scowled. ‘Mr Harrington has been waiting for well over half an hour.’

‘He is still here?’ You stopped in your tracks. This day could not have gone any worse. It seemed like everything you had been doing was working in your favour.

‘Yes, so you better come up with a clever excuse for your tardiness as I will not be embarrassed any longer. I swear, have you no shame?’

‘I am truly sorry mother, I had lost track of the time.’

‘Doing what exactly? What were you doing in the stables, exactly? Considering you had told me you were going out for some fresh air.’ Yes, the air around the horses was not exactly to be called “fresh.”

Unfortunately, you had no satisfying answer to any of your mother’s questions. Come to it, you yourself were unsure what exactly had brought you there in the first place, not to mention what made you stay. It must have been a sense of child-like naivete to think you could hide from your problems the way you attempted.

Problems that were coming closer as Mr Harrington walked towards you through the aisle of hyacinths that grew all around you in various colours.

‘What is he doing here?’ you mumbled towards your mother.

‘Considering the lovely weather, I had offered for us to sit out in the gardens.’ Your mother spoke out loud. That is when you noticed the set table and chairs under a large parasol on the patio.

‘I hope you do not mind. I took the initiative of taking a stroll in your absence.’ Mr Harrington spoke in a cadence that would have been new to you if not for the fact that you had spent the last hour in the presence of a very similar tone.

‘Of course, not,’ your mother had regained her ability to smile. ‘May I introduce my daughter.’ And so she did.

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. I completely lost track of time.’ You apologised and were ready to offer your hand to Mr Harrington when you noticed how filthy your gloves had become. In a panic, you pushed both your hands behind your back, trying to distract the man with a wide grin.

‘The important thing is that we are all here now,’ he manoeuvred, which you could not help but agree with, then led you to the patio.

The next hour went by faster than you had ever imagined it would. Mr Steve Harrington turned out to be not only a great conversationalist but a rather fascinating one at that. It was only a fault of your own that you were distracted for a larger part of the conversation. There was simply something about the man’s brown eyes that constantly reminded you of somewhere else. He was very charming and, abiding by your brother’s promises, had a great, though perhaps somewhat awkward, wit. It seemed that his confidence, once clearly overt, had been lowered, causing him to stumble over his words at times and laugh at his own mistakes in a deprecating manner, but never enough to make it a bother in your eyes. Truly, it was all rather endearing.

But you could not, for the life of you, figure out what exactly caused these fumblings in his character, as nothing seemed to be particularly wrong with the man. Though you did not see him as an academic or scholar of any sort, from the way he spoke, you could tell he was one of the more clever men you had the fortune of meeting. And his looks were certainly no topic of discussion either. He was tall and lean, with a wonderful smile and soft brown hair that apparently was more common than imagined, as were those dark eyes and the way he held you in his arms—

You took a sip of the cold water as Mr Harrington expressed his gratitude to your mother for the audience and made sure the message would be conveyed to Lord Byrnwick, too. You nodded and smiled along. Even when he bid you farewell and bowed his head, your mind was elsewhere. As if expecting something to emerge from behind the hyacinths, you could not help but glance in the Eastern direction of the gardens.

‘See, it was not all that bad, was it?’ your mother immediately said, pulling you back to the patio. By then, Mr Harrington had excused himself and was crossing the patio to the exit from the grounds but had turned briefly for a final goodbye, which you met with a polite wave.

‘No, I suppose you are right, mother.’ You had persevered against all odds. As you watched the gentleman leave, you felt quite content with the meeting—happy, some would even say. The only problem was that you could not make quite clear what, or rather, who brought on this particular mood.

Chapter 2

Thank you so much for reading!! I really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Remember the best way to support writers is to reblog and share. I love to hear what people think of my stories so feel free to leave a comment or an ask or message.

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therealcocoshady · 6 months ago

Note

Ahhhh!! I love your stuff, you're so talented !!!

Could you write a Marshall x bookworm!female!reader oneshot abt reader always just having her head in books and Marshall wanting some attention please??

Thank youuu xx

More than me ?

Eminem X Bookworm!Female!Reader

Author’s Note : Hey ❤️. Thank you so much for your request ! I had some fun writing it ☺️. I hope you enjoy it !

No one expected a bookworm like you to end up with a rapper. On paper, it didn’t make much sense and yet, everyone around you agreed that Marshall was the perfect match for you. The two of you were somewhat nerdy, introverts who’d rather spend time in your house than go to a party with tons of people. And even if he didn’t read a ton of books, he made up for it by fully supporting your passion for literature. When you moved into his house, he let you transform one of the guest rooms into a library and he often surprised you with books on your wishlist. On special occasions, he would go the extra mile and gift you beautiful editions, sometimes first ones, much to your delight. And even though he politely refused your many offers to let him borrow some books, he was always happy to let you talk his ear off about books you liked.

- You should really read it, you said excitedly.

- Yeah but if I read it, there would be no point in you telling me about it, he said with a grin. I’d miss the best part.

- Sorry, you giggled. Is that too much ?

- Never, he said before pressing a kiss to your temple. I love that you’re passionate. I like listening to you. It’s like a podcast.

- You know, Shelly at the library keeps telling me to start one, you chuckled.

- Maybe you should give it a try, he replied. No one talks about books like you.

- Maybe I’ll ask Hailie for pointers, you shrugged.

This was the start of a crazy adventure for you. A year later, you were able to quit your job, relying on your podcast and advertisement to make a comfortable living. Advertisers were constantly soliciting you, willing to take advantage of your massive following. You had managed to gather a big community of bookworms such as yourself, who enjoyed hearing about your latest reads. It was your safe space and you simply loved it. Another perk was that publishing houses sent you tons of books for free, hoping you’d talk about them in an episode. Marshall’s house was big but you now had books in every room and always more books you needed to read. Your boyfriend was already used to always seeing you with a book but now, you had more time to read and were doing this full time. It wasn’t always sunshine and candy, though and, sometimes, you were on a schedule to finish reviewing a book before recording your next episode. At some point, you had decided to review a whole series that had been sent to you a week ago, and reading those eight books definitely took most of your time.

- Are you coming to bed ? Marshall asked.

- I have to read a couple more chapters, you said apologetically. Sorry, my love.

- You’ve spent the whole day reading, babe, he pointed out. How about you rest your eyes a little ? I could make them roll back into your skull…

- Are you propositioning me ? You asked with a grin.

- Absolutely, he replied with a smile. What do you think ?

- That’s tempting, you admitted.

Before you had even finished your sentence, he was grabbing your book, placing your bookmark, closing it and taking you to the bedroom. As soon as you reached the bed, he pinned you to the mattress and whispered in your ear.

- Been waiting for this all day, he said.

- All day ? You giggled. You were at work…

- And yet, you were the only thing on my mind, he grinned. Couldn’t think of anything else.

He made sure to show you exactly what had been on his mind, ravishing you in all sorts of positions, making you cry from pleasure, until you were both panting and exhausted.

- I love you, he said as he caught his breath. God, I missed you this week.

- I missed you too, you cooed. You’ve been working so hard, lately.

- So have you, he pointed out.

- I have to keep busy while you’re finishing your album, don’t I ? You giggled.

- Well, you have me to yourself for the next two days, he said. Told the team not to bother me unless someone dies. I’m all yours. And we’re not leaving this room.

- Interesting, you giggled. I have some work, though.

- You can read chapters in between rounds, he shrugged before burying his head in your neck.

You smiled and enjoyed his touch, the warmth of his breath on your skin. You ran your hands in his back and stroked his head. Moments later, he was asleep. His soft snores brought a smile to your face and you figured he needed the rest. Lately, he had been waking up extra early and coming home later than usual, occasionally going to California to work with Dre. You gently made him roll to his side of the bed and wrapped yourself in your silk robe before going back to your reading room and resuming your reading. Hours later, a grumpy boyfriend came to get you.

- You left, he groaned sleepily.

- You were sleeping, you said with a smile.

- Well, not anymore, he said. Come back ?

- I just have to finish this-

- Later, woman, he groaned.

- Ten minutes, you pleaded.

- Babe, he sighed. It’s 11PM.

- Yeah but-

- I need you, he said with puppy eyes. You don’t want me to get all lonely in bed, now, do you ?

You smiled at him, yet made a point of shaking your head in disapproval. He knew full well his lost puppy act would get him anywhere with you. You closed your book and went back to the bedroom. As soon as you got back in bed, he wrapped you in his arms, in a possessive stance. You chuckled and whispered sweet nothings before drifting off to sleep.

You woke up the next day to the sound of Marshall entering the room with a breakfast tray in his hands.

- Breakfast in bed ? You yawned with a smile. What’s the occasion.

- I thought we might enjoy a lazy day in bed, he said with a smile. You, me, food and movies ?

- Sounds good, you nodded.

He settled in bed next to you and you ate the copious amount of food he had prepared. You spent a few hours in each other’s arms, watching movies and cuddling. Marshall seemed exceptionally clingy, which made you smile. Physical touch had always been one of his love languages, but it was rare for him to spend hours on end cuddling. After a while, though, you decided to get back to reading. However, you didn’t find your book where you had left it.

- Babe, have you seen the book I had yesterday ? You asked. It’s blue, with flowers on the cover.

- I haven’t, he shrugged. Come here, you’ll find it later.

- I really have to finish, you said. I’ll go and search…

- Babe, he groaned, can’t we just have a few hours together ? I’ll help you search for it. Later.

- Ok, you shrugged. But it’s important.

He sighed and gestured for you to come back in his arms. He didn’t pay a lot of attention to the movie, though, and just enjoyed your presence until he fell asleep. Or so you thought. Because as soon as you moved, he let out a grunt.

- What ? He asked.

- Just going to search for my-, you began.

- Screw it, he groaned. Here’s your damn book.

He reached for his nightstand and handed it to you. You looked at him in disbelief.

- You realized I’ve searched for it for half an hour ? You asked.

- Yeah well here it it, he groaned.

- Why did you take it ?

- Because I want you to be with me, he sighed. It’s all about your books, these days.

- I’m working, you said defensively. It’s my passion !

- Yeah well why don’t you move into your reading room then ? He suggested. You like these books more than me anyway.

You sighed and then put the book down before taking his hand.

- What’s with you today ? You asked.

- Nothing, he shrugged with a frown.

- Marsh, you said tentatively. You’re short-tempered and clingy. Clearly, something’s wrong.

- I miss you, he sighed. That’s all.

- I’m right here, you pointed out. I even work from home. I’m literally always here.

- I like that you’re having fun but… you work too much, he said.

- I do work a lot, but it’s because I want to be successful, you said. And you’re one to talk. You’re a literal workaholic.

- Yeah well I’m tired of all this work and I want to hug my girl, he said. I’m stressed out and I need you.

You smiled and kissed his cheek before putting your book away.

- You know you could just have told me you needed me, right ?

- I guess, he said grumpily. I guess I didn’t want to sound like a total simp.

- I like it, you said. It’s cute.

- So you’re staying, this time ? He asked.

- Of course, babe, you replied. If you need me, that’s my priority. But… is there something wrong ?

- Nothing, he said. I guess I’m just under pressure. I just need you. You’re my safe space. I miss you, lately. And now that you have this shit ton of followers, you don’t even tell me about your books. I miss that too.

You nodded and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

- I’m sorry, my love, you said. I just got really into all of it. But you’re my priority, you know ?

- Am I ? He asked.

- Of course, you replied.

- I love you, he said. Sorry I stole your book.

- Next time you try that, I’m messing up with your cassette wall, you threatened.

- You wouldn’t ! He gasped.

- Try me, you said with a raised eyebrow. Who knows ? Maybe all of them are in the wrong case. Maybe I’ve already done it.

He looked at you nervously and you gave him a threatening smirk. Knowing how much he cherished that cassette collection it was enough of a threat and a sure fire way to mess with his head. He groaned and got up.

- Where are you going ? You asked.

- To check my cassettes, he said.

- What ? You asked in a falsely offended voice. If you go, it means you love them more than me !

- Babe… of course I love them more, he said with a grin. Know your place, woman !

Note : I hope you enjoyed this one shot ❤️. If you did, you can support my writing via Ko-Fi ! I will also be giving previews of upcoming parts of Recovery and Love Game over there 😏.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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bartxnhood · 10 months ago

Text

talk fast | c.t.h

calum hood x fem!reader

summary: you both agreed to no strings attached, right?

warnings: oh boy tons of drinking (sorry), smoking, language, brief mentions of sexual activity (nothing explicit), and sexual innuendos.

w/c: 13k

a/n: hi my loves !! this one is a long time coming, i’ve been working on this since september. i started school in november which put a halt on all of my writing, but now that i graduated expect more from me. :). to all of my calum lovers, this one’s for you. p.s: if this does as well as i hope it does, i may consider making this a series on wattpad.

a/n pt.2: shout out everyone who helped my write this. esp @valentiyne you guys are amazing. 🩷

requests open

not proofread

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you weren't a stranger to relationships, and you'd had your fair share of them over the years. which you were aware that everyone else did, but you weren’t really serious about relationships. you didn't want to be with someone who didn't envision a future with you or who didn't share your goals.

your friends often told you that you should let loose and enjoy yourself, but that was not the life for you.

you had been in a very healthy relationship with someone you had known since college for the past few years. however, as time went, he became increasingly open about his needs for different things and eventually ended his relationship with you.

you went into a deep depression after the breakup, you didn't leave your apartment for weeks, you only showered maybe twice, and you couldn't remember the last time you ate anything other than instant noodles or ice cream.

what else could you do while you were wasting away? you had imagined spending the rest of your life with him, and now he’s gone.

your life seemed to change overnight.

while your friends and family around tried being there for you, you had pushed them so far away that they had just decided to give up on you. except, your best friend, olivia, finally dragged you out of your bed and forced you to shower so you could go out for the night with her.

“you need to get out, have fun, and forget about that jerk” she states, standing above you as she glides eyeliner on your eyes. “you’re hot, you’re fun, you have a great personality. i’m sure we can find you someone tonight!” she adds while finishing your makeup.

“olivia…” you sigh then look into the mirror, watching as your friend painted your face with a determined look in her eye. “no. we’re gonna have fun, we’re gonna party and get drunk. kay? you need this.” she grins, resting her head on your shoulder looking at you in the mirror. “now, go change into the outfit i brought you.”

"where are we going, anyway?" you ask, pulling at your skirt, which was riding up as you moved. you loved olivia, but some of her dress choices made you uncomfortable. "my brother got us into the pre-release party for the band five seconds of summer," she adds, gazing down at her phone for directions to the club, a hole in the wall on broadway. "what?!" you exclaim, your eyes widening. "how did he do that?" olivia laughs and clasps her arm around yours. "well, when you have a brother who manages a band, you kinda get vip treatment," she spoke with a grin. "plus, I told him how you've been feeling down, so he talked to the guys and they said it was fine," she chuckled softly, as the two of you continued your journey to the club.

the entry to the club was immediately visible due to the brilliant pink, purple, and red lights illuminating the street, as well as record posters in the windows. "this has to be it," olivia says as she opens the door for you, walking in after.

this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so you should be excited, right? but you couldn't shake the nagging guilt on the inside.

it’s okay to move on, right?

olivia leads you to the bar and orders a couple shots, "to your drop dead ex and a new beginning!" olivia cheers, toasting the glasses and the two of you downing the liquor.

you were about to start speaking when you were interrupted by olivia's brother, mark.

"it's been a long time, y/n!" he welcomes you with a shout. “how’s it going?” he asks, you see olivia roll her eyes and turn to her brother. “mark, we were having a conversation.” she states matter of a factly.

"i know, but I just wanted to introduce you to some of my buddies," the tall ginger says, stepping to the side and revealing four taller men. mark introduces them, "this is luke." he had blond curly hair, ocean blue eyes, and a white button-down shirt with the top button undone.

"michael," he said, his pink hair slicked to the side, a black snapback on, with a small wave of his hand in greeting. "ashton.” he had curly hair like luke, but it was fashioned in a 60’s greaser type of way, he smiled at you warmly, extending his hand for you to shake, the two of you nodding in acknowledgment of the other. "last- but not least, calum."

your gaze met his brown eyes, his chocolate curls resting just above his eyes as he looked you in the eyes. he was dressed in a white button-down shirt with black stripes that complemented his tanned and tattooed skin. he softly whispered "hi" as he squeezed his lips together in a smile. you smile back and nod. "hi.” calum's gaze lingers longer than he would have preferred, but he couldn't help himself. no way, not with you dressed like that. the way the black skirt clung to your hips and the dark blue halter top left nothing for the imagination

“guys this is my sister, olivia, and her friend, y/n.” mark says, pointing to the two of you, bringing calum out of his daydream. “nice to meet you guys” you say, offering a warm smile and they all nod to you. “are you staying for the show?” ashton inquired, olivia nods. “of course we are! wouldn’t miss it for a thing.” she gently nudges your arm, you laugh softly and nod.

"great, can't wait for you all to hear the album," ashton says, as the other three nod in agreement. "well, I have to get them backstage, but I'll see you later, okay?" mark replies, and you and olivia nod as the group disappears into the busy room.

as the show began, olivia tugged you closer to the stage, two rows back. the lights dimmed and you heard a huge cheer from the audience as the four boys you had just met took the stage.

your gaze was drawn to calum, who seemed engrossed with the music. how he made it appear so easy while looking so nice. you kept an eye on him for the majority of the night, but your mind was elsewhere.

you had found your way to the bar after the show had concluded; it was a terrific show, as expected, but seeing the band live was a weird experience, and you just couldn't enjoy yourself given your circumstances.

you found yourself reminiscing on your relationship during songs like "lie to me" and "why won't you love me," wondering whether you would have said something different or been more open to him. maybe you’d still be together.

you finish the drink you ordered and search the crowd for your best friend, but when you can't find her, you return your attention to the empty glass in front of you watching it being filled.

"was our stage set really that bad?" when you hear a voice, you quickly look up to find the person who is speaking. "i saw you, you seemed unhappy," calum adds, leaning on the bar. you shook your head and let out a breathless laugh. "no, it was actually very good," you say with a smile.

calum's gaze lingered, he leaned forward. "but? you were definitely not having a good time." you shrug and allow the bartender to refill your drink. "well, i got dumped not too long ago." "so", you trail off, messing with the glass in your hand.

"just not in the mood for a party, i guess," you shrug, and you hear calum hum. he switches his weight from one leg to the other. "actually, you looked pretty hot on stage," you cover your mouth and widen your eyes. "oh my goodness...i." you can't help but giggle, "i'm so sorry," you shake your head, and then gulp the last of the drink in the hopes that it will provide you with some liquid courage.

"you think I'm ‘pretty hot’?" he asks, his brow furrowed and his tongue protruding from the inside of his cheek. "no..i.." you sigh, removing some of your hair from your face. calum chuckles "no, no. you said it, you think I'm hot," he says in a teasing manner, crossing his arms with a quirked eyebrow.

calum would be lying if he said he didn’t think you were attractive as well. he had been eyeing you all night and figured, why not have some fun?

“what are you doing after this?” he asks, stepping a tad closer to you. now, he was just a few inches from your side and you caught wind of his cologne. you look down at the empty glass again, wondering what you’d say. you knew what he meant, and you had never done anything of the sort.

“well that depends” you answer, looking up from the glass and letting your eyes meet his. “well, i was kinda hoping you’d want to leave here with me” calum suggests with a smirk. you smile, figuring you could let lose for one night. “sounds great.”

it was just one night..right?

your eyelids flutter open, and you immediately feel a piercing pain in your temple. you groan silently and look about until you realize you're not in your bedroom when you peek over your shoulder, you notice a figure.

he was facing you, on his side. his curls were brushed back, his lips were slightly parted, and his arm was resting on your waist.

"oh, shit.." you think as you sit up against his headboard, drawing the loose sheet closer to your chest. your mind is filled with images from the previous night. meeting him, and then their brief talk in the bar. you rubbed your temples, still reeling from what you'd done.

you had slept with calum hood.

you had to get out of there because you couldn't believe what you'd done. you were never the type to do something like that. you attempted to remove the sheet so you could hurry up and put on your clothes from the night before and go home. however, while you were doing so, calum's arm gently tugged on your waist. "stay.."

when you looked at him, his eyes were still closed. you didn't move, feeling frozen as your gaze landed on the arm that framed your waist. you couldnt lie, calum was very attractive.

eventually, you finally managed to break free from his touch, and you threw on your clothing while searching for your phone and handbag. you discreetly opened and closed the door, making your way through the house to the front entrance.

you come to a halt as you pick up your shoes, pondering whether or not to leave your phone number for him. but you tell yourself that you'll never see him again, opening the door and walking out.

you order a lift home and finally check at your phone's alerts. olivia left almost twenty messages and made thirty phone calls. you tell her you're okay and on your way home.

you opened your front door to find olivia racing towards you. "where the hell were you?!" she exclaims, her eyes wide open. you hush her with a "shh," dropping your shoes beside the door. "i texted and called you!" "i know, i know," you remark as you pass by her to your room. "you can't just leave like that!" she exclaims as she follows you.

"olivia.." you sigh and stand in your bathroom, removing the last of your makeup from the night before. "i'm sorry okay, i was drunk and he was right there in front of me." "who?" she asks as she leans against the doorway. "calum.."

there was radio silence for a split second before you glanced to olivia, who erupted. "you slept with calum hood!?!" she exclaims, lunging for your arm. "calum hood?!? the one from five seconds of summer?" you closed your eyes, your head still throbbing, and her ranting only made matters worse. "okay, yes? i was drunk, and he came up to me for a moment...and the following thing led to another..."

"you slept with calum!!!" the ginger laughs as she claps her hands and softly jumps up and down. "oh my god!! my y/n is getting some!" you groan, throwing away the makeup wipe while moving past her. "oh, god. ew!" you exclaim as you enter your bedroom in quest of your pajamas. "tell me everything!" she says as she sits on your bed. "uh..no.." you say as you begin to change.

"just...leave it, im not going to see him again," you say as you brush your hair after changing. "what?! didn't you leave your phone number or something?" "no, olivia, it was just one night," you shake your head. i don't plan to see him again, okay?" you reinstate by placing the brush on the dresser. "ugh, you're no fun!"

"you should be happy about this, you're one step closer to moving on from your asshole ex-boyfriend!" exclaims olivia. you take a step out of your bedroom, looking over your shoulder at your ginger friend. you smile sadly, "i don't think I'll ever be able to get over him."

"we are going to be late!" olivia yells as she tugs you out of bed. "i don't want to go," you protest, but the ginger pushes you into the bathroom. "get yourself ready and meet me outside, okay?" she smiles and goes away.

you sighed as you stood in front of your mirror and went about your business. wash your face, then apply skincare, makeup, hair, and finally your clothes. this consisted of a cropped white shirt, a black skirt, and boots. for the nightlife scene, this was your typical go-to.

you grab a leather jacket and your money on your way out the door to meet with olivia. “great, you're done!" she grins and grabs your arm. "and looking as hot as ever," you sigh, "i wear this every time we go out, olivia. this isn't anything new." you explain, and the two of you start walking up to the bar. "yes, but being single looks good on you... you look happier." she beams. you shrug and continue going, laughing as you say, "whatever you say."

you two arrived at the bar, which was already quite crowded with people you knew, and said your 'hi's and 'hello's' as you walked through the crowd to reach your normal friend group. this was a birthday party for one of your mutual friends; you were invited because you knew a few people there, but you didn't intend to stay long. after only a few drinks, you were dipping.

"hey, i'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?" you ask olivia, who was in the midst of a conversation. "um, no, i'm good for now," the redhead responds softly. you nod and turn around, headed for the bar.

you take a seat on a bar stool and order your usual, then pull out your phone and scroll for a few minutes as you wait for your drink.

"fancy seeing you here," you hear from behind you. when you turn around, a familiar face greets you.

calum hood.

you gaze at him for a time, blinking slowly, wondering why the hell he was at this party in the first place. how did he know your friend group?

"what? like what you see?" he laughs and walks up to the stool next to you. you discreetly giggle, rolling your eyes as you notice your drink in front of you. "you're full of yourself, calum," you say as you sip your drink. "well, you weren't thinking that when you were in my bed a few nights ago, were you?" he says, lifting his eyebrows as he speaks, attempting to elicit a reaction from you.

"oh god.." you mutter. calum follows you as you push yourself off the stool and onto the club floor. "come on, I was joking." when you hear his remarks, you shake your head and spin around to tell him off, but you freeze when you realize how close he is.

calum gazed back at you, his chocolate eyes piercing into yours. the way his wavy hair fell just above his eyes. you couldn't think straight when he was wearing a tight-fitting black t-shirt that emphasized his muscles- or how nice he looked in those black plaid pants.

calum hood was fine, and he knew it.

"you're a jerk," you reply, eventually jerking out of your daydream. as he steps closer, you can smell the tequila dripping from his breath. "oh yeah?" you say, nodding, "yeah." "well, you won't be saying that when you're in my bed again."

as you stare into his eyes, your grasp on your cup tightens. you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"fuck you."

he takes pleasure in your reply and leans in, his face right up against yours, whispering, "maybe later, sweets." then calum walks away, leaving you on the dance floor.

you find yourself back with olivia and your group of friends, scarfing down the drink knowing you needed to be intoxicated for the night ahead of you.

"i saw that," she says, as the two of you sway to the music. "what?" you inquire, attempting to appear clueless. "calum hood, hitting on you!!" she rolls her eyes. she giggles and pokes at your side. "no, it was nothing," you promise, moving her arm away. "whatever you say," she sings.

while you were on the dance floor with your friends, you were pretty intoxicated, and you knew he was watching you. you tried to ignore the sense of his eyes burning holes in the back of your skull. he observed your hips swaying to the music and the way your hair layed against your skin. It was driving him crazy.

flashes of you in his bed, your skin gleaming with sweat, the softness of your lips against his, or the touch of your nails on his back that sent thrills down his spine.

normally, he would never return to someone with whom he had a one-night encounter, but he couldn't get enough of you. he hasn't stopped thinking about you since that night.

you'd had enough of his glances and decided it was time to face him.

"stop" you say as you approach him. he blinks and asks, "what?." you sigh and roll your eyes. "i know you're staring, stop it." calum laughs and sets his drink on the bar. "i don't know what you're talking about, pretty." you sigh and rub your temples. "don't act innocent, i saw you." you say. he shrugs and leans forward. "oh, I'll show you innocent"

"calum, we can't do this," you say, looking him in the eyes. “It was only once." you say, as if attempting to persuade yourself. "oh, yeah?" you cross your arms and nod. "because it seems you don't believe that." calum retorts, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

as he moves in closer, you catch the scent of his cologne combined with the booze on his breath, which sends a shudder down your spine. you see flashes of his figure hanging over you from a few nights before. you couldn't possibly lie to yourself because you think about it every day.

"i know you want me.. i see the way you look at me," he continues. "come on, let's have some fun." his thumb was tracing circles on the fabric of your skirt.

you look into his eyes, your stomach flipping. you didn't want to give in, you didn't want to become someone you weren't. but that was calum fucking hood, and you couldn't resist him when he looked at you like that. "fuck it," you state.

you gaze at the sleeping figure beside you, his breathing calm and steady. you couldn't help but feel bad, so you told yourself you wouldn't hook up with him again. you told yourself you'd never see him again. he was a celebrity, and you were just a city dweller who happened to get caught up with him.

you lie there for a moment, admiring calum. how could someone look so lovely while sleeping? you yank the covers off your legs and frantically dress to leave him yet again.

you collect your shoes at the exit, stand for a moment debating whether or not to leave your number, but you decide not to because this is the last time you'll see him…

right?

from that night forward, you felt like the universe was messing with you because calum appeared to be at every party, club, or bar you went to. he'd approach you as if nothing was going to happen, as if he was teasing you in some way- but it always happened.

those nights, you'd always end up in his bed, never yours.

you couldn't help yourself; no matter how hard you tried to pretend you despised him, you couldn't keep the mask up because you always caved and went home with him.

it became a habit; you'd go out with friends or by yourself, secretly hoping calum would appear in some way.

some nights, you weren't even there to drink, just to be there.

it was the same thing every time: you'd pretend to despise him because a small part of you wanted a serious relationship yet couldn't get enough of him. he made you feel alive. your ex never made you feel that way. the only person who ever made you feel *loved* was calum. you both knew it was only for fun, but it made you wonder if it might ever turn into anything more. you were always silently wishing you had left your phone number all those times, wondering if he would have called or texted you.

plus, you were aware that your friends, particularly olivia, were becoming suspicious. you had recovered quickly from your split following that first night with calum. she knew you’d leave with him at those gatherings but she didn’t stop it because you seemed to be doing better and you were a lot happier.

so far, calum was treating you right. at least, when the two of you were hooking up. so she never made any effort to stop what was happening.

for what felt like the hundredth time, you were back in his bed. instead of looking at him, you've turned your gaze to the ceiling. you know you should leave because it's about noon and you need to get home because you have plans with olivia later that day. you groan, running your hands over your face before getting out of bed and hunting for your clothing, all scattered along the floor.

"since you obviously don't want to stay," he spoke suddenly, causing you to pause in the middle of putting your shirt back on. calum raises up to rest on his elbows as your head spins around. "how about we just agree that this is a no-strings-attached situation," he suggested. you finish putting on your shirt and take your place at the foot of the bed. "calum.." you sigh,rubbing your eyes.

"y/n, just listen and consider it. we can keep doing what we're doing without making any commitments."

you stare at him, his hair was messy, he wasn't wearing a shirt, and you couldn't help but admire his physique. you lean down to grab your shorts, responding while you did so, "i'll think about it," before throwing on the rest of your clothes and leaving his bedroom. as you close the door behind you, you hear him sigh.

your hand was on the doorknob as you stood at the door, but you stopped yourself from opening it. you hated yourself as you reached into your bag for a pen and a random scrap of paper to jot down your phone number. you retrace your steps and leave it on his kitchen island. then you disappear from his home once again.

you unlock your apartment door and walk in, closing it behind you. you enter the kitchen, putting your bag on the counter and grabbing a water bottle.

"where have you been?" you jump out of your skin when you see olivia behind the refrigerator door. "what the hell, olivia!" you exclaim, nearly spilling the bottle. she's standing with her arms crossed with an intense stare. "did you hook up with him again?"

you move out of the kitchen and into your room, closing the fridge. "no, I don't know who you're talking about." you respond, but olivia isn't having it. "stop lying. you were with him last night and the nights before." "so?" you grumble.

"so?!", she exclaimed, you can't tell if she's really mad at you or just acting this way, she repeats. "you're having an fling with a celebrity! you have a habit of hooking up with him. surely something has to be there." she follows you to your room, standing in your doorway as she questions you.

"it's nothing, olivia. we just happen to be at the same location at the same time. okay?" you explain while looking for some clothes to change into.

"i call bullshit. you were never like this, until you met him." she continues, making you sigh. "it's just a distraction, okay?"

"I just...I don't know," you shrug, unable to express your feelings. "i'll meet you later, okay?" you turn away from her.

"actually…i have a date tonight," olivia confessed. "im sorry, but i'll have to cancel." she frowned. "that's fine," you say sympathetically over your shoulder. “have fun, and please text me when you get home, okay?" olivia nods, singing, "i will, love you hot stuff" she passes by you to leave your shared apartment.

you're sitting on your sofa with a container of leftover takeout from a few nights ago after freshening up. olivia had somehow gotten you hooked on a cringe-worthy television show.

you were already two seasons in and couldn't recall a single episode. calum had made your memory fuzzy. you couldn't get him off your mind. you remained curious about what he was doing when you left. did he think of you the way you thought of him? did he ever wonder what you did when he wasn't there? though you convinced yourself you were just being delusional.

…right?

calum glances at the scrap of paper on his kitchen counter, his fingers tapping near his phone, unsure whether to wait to message you. calum was well aware that what he was doing was probably not wise. because, after all, hooking up with you was just for fun, right? so why was it so difficult for him not to think about you? why were you so difficult for him to forget? it was just intended to be once, but now calum thinks about you whenever he gets the chance.

calum sighs, picks up his phone, and starts punching in your phone number. he has no idea what he's doing, but he doesn't stop himself from sending you a message.

- ‘hey, it’s calum’

you're standing in the kitchen right now, washing your hands, when your phone dings. your heart sunk as you looked over and said the message. you swiftly withdraw your hands from the sink, grab a towel, and dry them.

you take out your phone and read his message. You stare at it for a moment, unable to believe he actually messaged you.

-‘hey’

you respond as you stroll over to your sofa and sit on the cushions. you weren't anticipating anything from him because he'd practically established that the two of you were only in it for the fun of it and that was it. no strings attached. you don't hear from him again for the time being.

you're disappointed, but you return your focus to the television, hoping to forget about the singer on your mind.

you haven't heard from olivia in hours; she should've been home by now, but you guess she went to the guy's place she was seeing.

you get up from the sofa and grab your phone; all of your anxiety fades as you open your phone to calums' contact information and call him.

It rang several times before he answered. “hello?”

“hey, calum sorry if i’m bothering you”

“no, you’re good. what’s up?”

“i was just wondering if uh…if you’d want to hang out?”

"what do you have in mind?"

you laugh, "not like that"

you can hear him laugh in amusement, “sorry- yeah, sure. there’s actually this party tonight and i wasn’t going to go since i didn’t have anyone to go with. would you be down for that?”

you pause for a moment, picking at your fingers. “sure! that sounds great” you answer.

“nice, i’ll send you the address to ashton’s place and i’ll meet you there. see you tonight, sweets.”

you arrive at ashton's house, sitting in your car for a few minutes as you ran your options through your head. ‘was this a smart decision? were you planning to do this?’ you groan, taking your phone, and bag then exiting the car, heels clicking as you approached the entrance.

when you opened the door, you were greeted by the smell of alcohol and loud music. you stroll past the crowd near the entryway and start looking for the person you came here to see.

you notice him in the kitchen with his bandmates, he noticed you as well. with a tiny smile on his lips, he motions you over to the group.

"hey," you speak softly now that you're standing close to him. "hi," he greets, unconsciously placing his hand on the small of your back. "guys, i'm not sure if you remember, but this is y/n," he reminds before re-introducing you to the rest of the band.

"are you mark's sister's friend?" michael interjects, you nod. "yeah! i was the one in the blue top that night," you smile, everyone nods in acknowledgment. "well, i'm glad you could make it, if you need anything just let me know." "thank you," you nod nervously, then glance up to calum.

he offers to take you around and introduce you to some people to make you feel more at ease.

"i'm going to get something to drink, you want anything?" you make the offer to calum, who is seated on the sofa, he responds with a simple, "sure." you nod, heading to the kitchen by yourself, leaving calum with his buddies.

"how long have you two been together?" someone seated next to calum asked, he turns to see it was ashton's girlfriend. "oh, no- we aren't together." he responds, but her reply is unexpected. "are you serious?" she asks, calum nods. "no way," she whispered, astonished as she takes a sip from the crimson solo cup. "what?" calum questions.

"there's no way you two aren't together," she says again, "the way you look at her. i'm not sure what the two of you are up to, but you should figure it out," she concludes, chuckling. calum simply stares at her, her attention drawing elsewhere.

he thought about what she said the entire time you were gone. did he actually act that way? did he treat you as though you were his girlfriend? did he look at you in a way that suggested you two were dating? no… you two were just hooking up. nothing else.

he had no idea you were back until you spoke up. "here.." you offer, handing him the drink. calum looks up takes the drink you offered, "thank you sweetheart" "anytime, sugar" you chuckle and go for a seat, but all of them are taken… okay, so you would just stand up for the time being. when calum notices this, he reaches for your waist and pulls you down onto his lap. you look down at him, confused, “what are you doing?” he looks up at you with those eyes.

those big brown eyes that made you feel as if you were on cloud nine. calum looked at you like you were the only girl in the universe.

at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“i’m not just gonna let you stand there.” he answered with a cheeky smile.

people started to leave after a few hours. you were still sitting on calum's lap as everyone else congregated in the living room, talking about whatever and playing drinking games.

you get up from the calum's lap, leaving your drink behind to walk to the restroom down the hall. you approach and knock, hearing someone in there. you stand a few steps away from the door and pull out your phone to pass the time.

after a few minutes, calum finds you. leaning his arms against the wall, effectively caging you between his arms as he stands in front of you. "whatcha doing?" he demands, boxing you in and staring at you. "I'm waiting for the bathroom," you say, glancing up at him.

"you know..." calum pauses, coming in closer. "my house isn't too far from here, and i have a bathroom..so..you can just use it there," you sneer at his offer, "how convenient.." you respond, just above a whisper.

you push yourself off the wall and past calum, leaving him speechless. "where are you going?" he asks, his arms at his sides. "your place. you coming or not?" you grin as you peer over your shoulder.

calum chuckles quietly as he approaches you and wraps his arm around your waist. he was nearly dragging you to the door. "sorry guys, we have to run!" he grabs your bag, carrying it for you before dashing out the door with you.

the others could only chuckle to themselves and smile knowingly as the two of you dashed away.

you're back in his bed, and you know it before you open your eyes. the smell of his bedsheets let you know you were back. the warm vanilla smell invaded your nostrils as you stretched and opened your eyes to find yourself staring at a familiar ceiling. you check over your shoulder for calum's sleeping figure, but he's not there.

you carefully sit up, bringing the sheet along to cover your chest and rubbing your eyes with your other hand. only then do you spew calum standing at the doorway wearing only basketball shorts. "good morning, princess," he says, and you groan, feeling a headache coming on. "i'm making breakfast if you want to stay," he says before walking out the door. you sigh as you get out of his bed and seek for your clothes before leaving his room for the kitchen.

you notice pancakes and fruit on a plate waiting for you. as he stands and consumes his food, you take a seat at the kitchen island. It's quiet for a few minutes before he speaks up.

"so i was thinking.." calum begins. you raise your head to look at him. "i know we said no strings attached but what if we expand the deal?" you lift your brows, confused as to what he was on about. "what do you mean?" you inquire. "at parties, we could be each other's automatic plus one. that way, we won't have to worry about who we go home with." you look up at him, then down at your plate, shifting some of the food about.

"i don't know, calum." you let out a sigh. you want to say yes, and you want to be around him at all times- but you just can’t confess it. "i'm just tired of being ditched by the guys at events, and i wouldn't mind if you were the one to fill that spot," you gaze up, your eyes meeting his. "okay...i'm down," you nod, and calum smiles. "great."

you continue eating as silence fills the room, you don’t really know how to keep a conversation with him since you two only hung out at parties. “when’s your birthday?” he asks. you chuckle, “what happened to no strings attached?” you ask, taking a drink of your water. “well, we can be friends with benefits. friends can know things about each other” he rebuttals. you look at him, finally caving. “y/bd” you answer, calum nods. “that’s coming up” you shrug, “its a couple months. what about you?”

“january 25th” he answers. “happy belated birthday” you reply and he laughs. “so you do have a heart.” you rolls your eyes, “oh whatever.” you can’t help but crack a smile.

calum admires you, how you still manage to look beautiful even in the makeup from the night prior and your hair is a mess. calum wants to be your friend, he wants to know stuff about you other than how you are in bed. he looks down at his plate, knowing he shouldn’t be thinking of you as anything for than his fuck buddy.

“what’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

you think for a moment, your free hand is now supporting the weight of your chin. “hmm..i’ve always wanted like a big birthday bash.” you answer, “but i just never had the opportunity or people to go with” you add. he nodded, making a mental note.

———

calum proceeds to ask you out every other night, claiming that he doesn't want to be alone. of course, you went, but it simply muddled your sentiments for him. because he made it apparent that you were just friends.

so what was it about him holding your hand at parties that got you so worked up? or when he'd hold your back as you walked through a crowd of people. you'd have to convince yourself to stop staring at him for so long before anyone noticed.

you opted to see someone else on the side in the hopes of sorting out your feelings because the only reason you had feelings for calum was because he was the only person you had been seeing this much, right? furthermore, calum had made it obvious that there were no strings attached.

"hello?" you answer the phone as you go inside your apartment after getting home from work. "hey! "I'm sorry if i'm bothering you," calum says over the phone. "no, i just got home from work. you're fine!”

“how are you?" you ask, placing your keys on the table.

"i was just wondering if you're free tonight?" he inquires. you sigh and open your refrigerator to see if you have any snacks. "um, actually i was going out with a friend tonight…" you speak, and on the other end you hear him sigh, "okay! if your plans fall through, let me know." you smile to yourself, "of course," and it gets silent for a bit as the two of you are at a loss for words, "well, i'll let you get ready then..." "alright...bye..." you say as you pull the phone away from your ear and finish the call.

calum sighs as he tosses his phone to the opposite end of the sofa and rests his head back. he knows that he should not be disappointed; you have your own life, and calum was only a little part of it, just as he had his own life but knowing he wouldn't be able to see you tonight hurt. so, instead of moping about, he decided to ask his bandmates if they wanted to hang out for the night.

however, the night was uneventful; luke had met a girl, michael was conversing with someone, and calum was left alone with ashton.

"isn't that the girl you're seeing?" ashton says unexpectedly, motioning towards you at the bar. calum looks over his shoulder and sees you talking with a guy.

calum is hurt, but he turns around and shrugs as he faces ashton. "we're not seeing each other, i don't like her like that," ashton chuckles as he sips his drink, "sure you don't," calum moans, "mate, cmon.."

“you’re lying to yourself, mate. maybe you don't say you like her, but your eyes say everything." ashton spoke, calum knew it was true. he did like you, but he was unsure if you even considered him more than someone just to hook up with. you had been giving him mixed signals, because one night you were all about him but the next day you wanted nothing to do with him.

calum peers over his shoulder once more, this time observing that the guy that was now touching you, his hand on your leg, inching higher and higher. calum considers ashton's words and walks away from the table he was at towards you.

the way he felt was enough confirmation for his feelings for you. he wanted to be more than just a friend you sleep with. he wants to the be the person you come to during your darkest times, he wants to know your favorite songs, he wants to know your favorite movies, food, candy, animal, he wants to be your person.

“so when were you going to introduce me to your friend?” your head whips around to find calum standing behind the bar stool you sat at. “calum?” you blink before turning back to your date who had now removed his hand from your thigh. “you know him?” the man questions, eyeing calum.

“uh…he’s just my-“ calum cuts you off, “boyfriend” he finishes for you. your eyes go wide looking at calum again, you were about to open your mouth but calum beat you to it. “and we should be heading back now” he reaches for your waist, grabbing your purse and escorting you out of the bar.

"what the hell!?" you yell outside the bar, shoving him away from you. "you can't do that, calum! we're not exclusive, we are not dating; we're just friends who occasionally hook up" you hear calum chuckle and it sends you over the edge.

you huff and begin to walk away, but calum follows you and drapes his arm over your shoulder.

"youre mine and i don't share"

"where are you taking me?" calum walks next to you, instinctively leading you to his car. "home," he says, unlocking his car door and allowing you to enter before closing it and walking to the driver's side.

within a few minutes, you realize he's heading in the opposite way. "calum this isn't the way to to my place" you're saying. "I know," he replies, looking over at you. "i never said which home"

‘get ready, im coming over’

calum takes out his phone. he thinks nothing of the message you just sent him, presuming you're coming over to visit him. however, when you came and kept honking the car horn for him to come outside he was a bit thrown off.

when calum walks outside, he puts his phone and wallet in his pocket while walking over to your car. as you roll down your window, he leans in. "get in, we're going shopping," you say, music still playing and a smile on your face.

"why exactly do you need me for this?" calum inquires, his brow furrowed. you reply, "well considering you'll be the one taking it off i figured you might want to help me pick out something" while grinning. despite his flushed cheeks, calum takes a step back, unlocks the car door, and hops inside.

you took calum to the mall and modeled for nearly two hours while looking for the right outfit for your birthday. it had been two hours of no success until one of the last stores you visited had this leather skirt you had been eyeing for a while.

calum couldn't take his eyes off of your body when you emerged from the dressing room. both the halter top you chose and the skirt perfectly complemented one other. you drawled, "sooo?" hoping for a positive response. he answers right away, "yes." when you looked down at yourself, he speaks up again. “that’s the one, you have to get it.” and you couldn't help but laugh. you nod and examine yourself in the mirror before returning to the dressing room to change into your clothing so you could check out.

you happen to pass a leather jacket on your way to the register. and it just so happens to go well with the skirt. additionally, you observe that calum is examining it longer than anything else you have so added in the store. you made the choice to pick it up, do your best to estimate his size, and continue moving forward to pay.

on the way back to your place you pick up takeout since it was getting late in the evening and you both were starving.

when the two of your arrive home, you get comfortable on the sofa and begin picking out a movie while calum is in the kitchen sorting out the food before bringing it all into the living room. you picked out a movie and the two of you eat in peace, enjoying each others company.

afterwards, you had started cleaning up all the empty containers and throwing it away with the help of calum.

“will you put the skirt on again? i forgot what it looks like” calums asks and you laughed, looking over your shoulder. “seriously?” he nods. you pause for a moment before rolling your eyes and sigh, “fine.”

you walk out of your bedroom in the skirt but you hid something behind your back, looking a bit shy. which was unusual because you never acted like this around calum, so he knew something was up. “y/n, what’s behind your back?” he asks in a teasing tone and you begin walking towards him slowly. “okay, so, don’t be mad but i may have picked you up something too..”

she grins bringing the jacket from behind her and handing it towards him.

“i—y/n/n please tell me you didn’t buy this leather jacket for me” you take a few steps forward. “i’ve never heard you say please before. this is new.” you say, smirking. calums rolls his eyes but he can’t help but smile and you continue, “but yes i did. i saw you eyeing it so i grabbed it”

he tries to hide his smile. “well go on, put it on” you help him into the jacket and it’s then when he notices. “did you get this so we could match?” he says laughing. “no i absolutely did not! i just wanted to do something nice for you” he quickly responds “you didn’t have to go through the trouble of getting more clothes sweetheart. taking some off would’ve had the same effect” he chuckles. you playfully hit his chest and say “you’re insufferable.” you look away but then looks back smiling.

“but yeah maybe i wanted us to match a little bit. sue me” he grabs your waist and pulls your closer, you feel his thumb drawing circles on your exposed skin and it sends shivers down your spine. “well i certainly appreciate the thought, sweets. now we just need an occasion to show up everyone” calum teases, leaning in. his lips only inches from yours, you feel your cheeks warm up. “calum..” you warn but he continues to close the space between the two of you. “it’s just one kiss..”

you hate your birthday, it was the one day of the year you always found yourself to be the most miserable despite having people who loved you around. you still felt so unhappy.

“y/n, are you ready? you can’t be late to your own party!” olivia calls out from the living room. you exit your bedroom, meeting her in the room. “i’m ready, im ready” you say, throwing your bag on your shoulder. “y/n..” you hear olivia sigh, she takes a few steps towards you and puts her hands on your shoulder.

“lighten up. i know you hate your birthday but this year im not

letting you be miserable. kay?” she gently shakes you enough for you to crack a smile and nod, “good” she says, linking her arm with yours.

“now let’s go before people think you bailed your own birthday party.”

the two of you arrive to the same club where you had first met calum yet this time, the atmosphere was different.

no purple, pink, or red lights. no promotional posters in the windows. instead, you see white paper decorations and warm fairy lights.

you enter the bar in front of olivia and hear a loud uproar of people cheering as you did and some people even popping confetti. you couldn’t help but laugh as you walked through the crowd, seeing all of your close friends standing around celebrating you.

olivia was also giddy, knowing she had planned this whole thing along with calum.

“you guys didn’t have to do this!” you said over the music after you saw the cake sitting in the middle of the room, you’re beaming with joy. for the first time in a long time you were excited to be celebrating your birthday.

you spent time greeting people and thanking them.

some of these people you haven’t seen in years and it made you feel like things were finally getting better.

just as you were about to catch up with some old friends, the lights dimmed and you heard some light strumming from the nearby stage.

you look over seeing four familiar figures underneath the red stage lights.

“hello everyone,” luke begins, adjusting the mic. “if you all don’t know, we are five seconds of summer” the crowd roars at the name drop and some people are playfully hitting your shoulder not knowing your tied with the band.

“we just wanted to say we are truly honored to be back at the place we showcased our recent album, and of course to celebrate the birthday girls special day.” .

“so, happy birthday, y/n. we hope you have a wonderful year.” luke beamed.

the set was at least forty-five minutes long, they had played mostly their new stuff off the youngblood album but dropped in a few older songs.

you were over the moon.

to say you had five seconds of summer perform at your birthday party? that’s huge.

you never thought you’d end up in this position.

to say you had personal connections to people as big as calum, or even the whole band for that matter.

tonight was a night you’d definitely never forget.

standing outside the club, you watch the people inside dance and get lost in each other. the whole scene was almost melancholy- the way everyone was there to celebrate you. the night was near ending and you felt so cramped in there, you thought you'd spend the last few hours of your birthday catching your breath.

"hey you" calum voice interrupts your thoughts, a cigarette between his fingers as he watches you from a close enough distance. you furrow your brows, "didn't know you smoked"

he quickly flicks it to the floor, stepping on it a few times before picking up the trash.

"Is it a turn off?"

"no no i just didn't know" you shrug and look back up at the sky, "i don't think i know anything about you aside from you're good in bed and you like whiskey" he chuckles now, stepping closer to you and placing his hands on your waist.

"well, ask me anything you want"

you watch as he looks away for a moment, searching for the perfect question.

"if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?"

your eyes don't leave the sky as you think, long and hard about the question. "i’d love to see paris... it's been my dream since i was a child."

you could feel his hands loosen from your waist, he steps infront of you and stared down at your face with a smile. It's almost like he's thinking of what to do or what to say next.

“paris?” he repeats.

you nod, tilting your head to the side, studying him. "what about you?"

calum had now completely removed his arm from your waist as he leans down to rest his elbows on the metal railing.

“considering i’ve toured around the world, ive been to plenty of amazing places” he says, looking back to see if you were looking at him.

“i don’t have just one, too many places, not enough time to explore” he answered.

you nod, looking away towards the city. the nightlife in downtown los angeles was a lot lively than normal.

probably because your birthday fell on a friday this year, so all of the bars were jam packed and faint music flooded the streets.

you inhale, about to say something as your turn your attention back towards the brunette.

“y/n! cmon!” olivia grabs your wrist pulling you inside and away from calum, towards the large cake so you could blow out the candles.

“come on birthday girl, make a wish!” olivia cheers along with everyone standing around. you laugh, “okay okay!”. you blow out the candles and everyone begins to cheer. olivia hugs your side and giggles, “what did you wish for?” she asks. you grin petting her head, “if i tell you it won’t come true, will it?” your eyes flicker between calum and olivia as you speak.

you hear olivia groan in annoyance. someone amongst the crowd, you guess ashton, you could recognize that arm anywhere, points to the cake and says, "birthday girl gets first pick!"

you finally see his figure merge from behind someone with a plastic plate and knife. "what piece does my girl want?" ashton continues.

you examine the cake once more and point to a corner piece smothered in the purple icing with a kiddish like grin on your face. ashton's nods and begins to cut you a piece.

as it nears the end of the night and the bar slowly begins to empty out, you've found yourself at the bar watching everyone says their goodbye and share a hug with you before leaving the building.

the music was faintly playing now, compared to when you had arrived eariler.

solo cups trashed the floor, paper plates and napkins scattered the bar table. you look down at the glass setting in front of you as you swirl around the liquid contents. you didn’t even notice calum approaching.

“how was your birthday?” he hums, sitting next to you.

“good” you smile, resting your head on your hand. “tonight was good. you did great on stage.”

“yeah?” calum raises his eyebrows, you see a playful smirk forming on his lips. “mhm, very rockstar.”

calum laughs at your comment and then the two of you fall silent, watching as some people begin cleaning up the mess.

“can i talk to you?” calum questions, turning his focus back to you.

you nod, “yeah, of course”

“in private.” he adds.

you raise your eyebrows , wondering what he needs to say that he can’t in front of your friends.

“sure”

calum takes your hand and leads you towards the back door, which you had no idea was back here.

when he opens it, you see a patio with a string of fairy lights surrounding the area.

“you’re going to think i was stalking you or something, but this just happened by chance. i swear.” calum stands you in front of him as he reaches in his back pocket and hands you a plane ticket.

“we’ll be in paris on the first leg of our tour and i had an extra ticket.” he stated. you look up at him wide eyed, then do a double take to make sure you were seeing it right. “calum..what? i…i just i can’t just-“

“i want you there.” he adds.

“i want you in paris with me, hell- i want you on the whole tour with me. please, take it” he offers it to you again, making you take it.

“oh my god” you mutter, looking down at the ticket now in your hand.

“the flight is in two days, i know it’s hella last minute but i figured its now or never” calum speaks softly.

you’re still at a loss for words, your body working faster than your mind as your wrap your arms around calums figure. “thank you so much” you say into his shoulder.

“anytime” he hums, hugging you back.

“cmon cal! we gotta head back.” michael can be heard from the bar.

the australian pulls away and offers a warm smile, “see you in paris..” he says and walks off. “bye..”

you’re quick to whip your phone out and text olivia before heading back to your apartment partment

“youll never believe what just happened”

“is this a good or bad thing”

“uhh good? i think? i hope so”

“well dont leave me in the dark what happened”

“calum gave me a ticket to paris” “WHAT, Y/N THATS HUGE. are you gonna go”

“i mean, id feel bad if i didnt. i hate how easy it is for me to like him.”

“we’re so having a debriefing when you get home.”

the plane ride was long and tiresome, eleven hours of being so uncomfortable in the seats and having someone next to you who had no regard for personal space. plus, you just hated planes in general.

but once the plane landed, you felt a wave of relief and soon enough you were off the plane and navigating your way through the foreign airport.

once you get to baggage claim you wait for your luggage and once you have it, you begin looking around for a familiar person.

you round a corner and finally see the one you had been searching for. “there’s my pretty girl” calum says, as his eyes lands on you as he makes his way towards you.

“i look awful calum” you laugh as his arms wrap around you tightly. “no such thing” he says into your hair before pulling away. “how was the flight?” he adds, taking your luggage from your hand then linking his free hand with yours while leading you out of the airport.

“long” you laugh tiredly, as you watch him load your bags into the back of the car.

the uber back to the hotel that calum was staying at was nice, being able to see nice scenery before you’d sleep for the next twelve hours.

the plan was, you’d sleep for as long as you could until calums show tomorrow, then hopefully, you’d be well rested and enjoy his concert and have a few days in the city to spend with him.

still only as friends..right?

while you start unpacking, calum was helping. “when are you going to sleep?” he asks, taking your now empty suitcase and putting it next to his as you were folding and putting the clothes in the dresser. “probably when i get done here.” you say closing the drawer to the dresser.

“no, you’re not” calum says, causing you to stop and turn to him. “what?” you blurt, harsher than you wanted. “what do you mean ‘no’”.

“i mean no because i’m taking you out tonight.” “calum” you try to interject but he doesn’t let you. “were going out tonight, no ands, ifs,or buts. kay?” he says, walking towards you. “and be sure to wear that skirt, you look good in it.” he whispers into your ear.

“what skirt?” you ask, trying to act oblivious.

calum scoffs a little, “you know the one.”

you finish swiping the last bit of mascara onto your lashes and close the tube, then check yourself in the mirror once more wanting to make sure you outfit was good enough.

“you done?” you hear calum voice ring the hotel room into the bathroom. “yeah!” you yell back and grab your lipstick, touching up your lips before throwing it and a gloss in your bag and exit the bathroom .

“you look great” calum grins, walking towards you. his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer. you grin, taking notice just how good he looks in leather jacket. “so do you, mr.rockstar.” “yeah?” he smiles, you nod. “yeah. you ready?” you ask. “yep let me get my wallet”

the night was nearing an end, you walked down the street next to calum, luke and sierra followed behind the two of you. calum had taken you all over the city, to nice cafes, his favorite spots from the last time he visited, and a museum. it was truly a wonderful day in the city of love.

the four of your turn a corner and suddenly you’re shocked by the bright dazzling lights of the eiffel tower.

you’re starstruck, you must’ve stopped in your tracks became calum looks back at you, “you comin’?” he grins, holding out his hand for you to take.

you felt like a kid in a candy store as you approached the structure. it felt like something out of a dream. you weren’t sure why you loved the idea of being in paris, but you were here now. standing in front of the famous landmark in the world, it was so beautiful you could cry.

“wow..” you speak breathlessly. the twinkling lights reflected in your eyes, the way it stood out against the dark sky, it felt like the most magical thing you had ever seen.

you’re quick to take your phone out and snap a couple pictures, not wanting to forget this moment. it would be something you would talk about forever.

“hey y/n-“ sierra taps your shoulder. your spin around and face the girl, “mm?”

“care to take a pic of me and luke?”

“sure!” you take the phone from sierra as the couple poses in front of the sight. “i’ll take a couple so pose however you want” you smile and begin snapping pictures of the two.

luke and sierra were a good couple, they complimented each other very well. and from what you’ve seen of sierra she was a good friend and good girlfriend to luke.

“check those, make sure you like them” you hand the phone back to sierra so she can check them.

“perfect! thank you so much!” sierra beams looking at the photos then up at you.

“do you want some with calum?” she asks.

you look over at calum who was already looking at you. “um, sure!” you hand your phone to sierra.

you and calum stand next to each other and let sierra snap a couple pictures together. luke is standing behind sierra watching as she makes sure to get all the angles.

“beautiful!” she exclaims with a wide grin as she hands your phone back to you so you could check the pictures.

you swipe through the pictures awhile calum looks over your shoulder.

“god damn” the australian begins, “we look good together.”

and it was true. you did look good together. maybe you could picture being with him more than his ‘friend’.

your eyes flutter open to the soft rays of the sun peeking in through the sheer white curtains of the hotel room. “morning, pretty” you hear calum say causing you to look over your shoulder where he sat on the opposite side of the bed.

you groan quietly, rubbing your eyes as you slowly sit up to lean against the headboard. “mornin” you reply followed by a yawn. “what time is it?” “noon” calum answers, turning off his phone. “damn” you reply knowing you’ve slept almost a whole day. “sorry” you say but calum shakes his head, “don’t apologize, you needed the rest. plus, you’ll be well rested for tonight” he grins, you shake your head and playfully push his shoulder.

“what’s on the agenda for today?” you yawn again, and calum leans back on the headboard. “well, we have to be at the venue at two and soundcheck is at three”. he says, checking his phone for the time.

“good, gives me plenty of time to get ready” you say, reaching for your phone. “do you want to leave with me or do you wanna just come whenever you’re done?” you shrug thinking about how long it’ll take you to get ready. “i might just uber after i’m done that way i don’t have to rush.” you start, ripping the cover off of your legs. “plus it’ll give me enough time to make sure i look good for you tonight.” you say with a grin before getting out of the bed and making your way to the bathroom.

calum laughs before calling out to you “you’re a tease, you know that?” you smile to yourself using water for your shower. “always!” you holler back.

you’re sat in the back of an uber staring out the back passenger window. the venue isn’t very far from the hotel so the ride wasn’t too bad. when you arrived you saw the line of fans outside all waiting in queue you smiled to yourself, feeling proud of the band, and calum.

you step out of the vehicle and walked around like a lost puppy trying to look for olivia’s brother, mark.

you take the time to see everyone waiting in line dressed in their best and looking beautiful.

“oh thank god” you start, spotting the blonde man. “y/n! you made it!” mark smiles, pulling you in for a hug.

“yeah, thank god, i almost got lost.” mark nods and begins leading you down a long corridor until reaching the dressing rooms. “i figured you’re here for calum?” you look up, staring at him for a moment before blinking. “that obvious huh?” mark laughs, then hands you a vip laminated lanyard. “keep this on you, have fun and enjoy the show.” he adds as he pats your shoulder.

you watch as he walks away, taking a deep breath as you open the door peeking your head in. you see the guys spread out in the room until calum looks up from his phone to greet you.

“its about time you got here, i was about to worry.” he says, now pulling you into their dressing room. his tan arms wrap around your figure and you get a whiff of his cologne.

he keeps you close to your side as the other guys come up to greet you. “was it hard to find?” calum inquires, you shrug, “i walked around the building until i eventually found mark and now im here” you laugh. “probably a little late, traffic was crazy”

calum smiles, “all good, at least you’re here now. that’s all that matters.” he says, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

“all right guys, they’re all ready for you” some stage manager, you had to guess, said as they popped their head in the door.

you separate from calum as he fixed his in-ear-piece and grabs his bass. you smile at him and give him a thumbs up and watch as he followed behind the other three.

“are you sierra and y/n?” and woman enters the room, her dirty blonde hair was cut to about her shoulders but it was obviously growing out. she had a welcoming smile and comforting aura. the two of you nod. “perfect, i’m hannah i can take you guys to your seats!” she beams and then the two of you follow her out into the arena where she showed where the two of you would be at.

side of the pit, calums side, so it was actually perfect for you. “are you guys going to be on the rest of the tour?”

“i will” sierra smiles. then hannah turns towards you.

“oh, i don’t know yet” you laugh, taking a swig of your drink.

“well, i’ll be on the tour with the guys so if you every need anything just look for me.” she smiles again. “enjoy the show!”

it was incredible to see, they were truly in their element. each of the acting as if they were born to be on stage.

“wow!” michael hollers about midway through their performance, taking a small break in between songs. luke is still strumming quietly in the background. “paris, how the fuck are we feeling?!” the crowd erupts in loud cheers.

“it’s great to be back after so long” he continues, then takes a glance at his band mates. “how are you all liking paris?”

“good, i love it here” luke answers, earning a few hollers from the crowd.

“how you liking paris, cal?”

“what about the view here? it’s such a beautiful place” luke interjects.

“you seen anything nice lately, calum?” luke continues

“yup, the views in my hotel room are amazing.”

your heart stopped, it was subtle. just enough for only you to notice. he was definitely mentioning you.

“do you mean from?” luke chimes.

you can faintly see calum smile as he laughs into the mic, “yup, my bad.”

“alrighty then.” michael pauses, luke had taken a few steps back from the mic but could still be been laughing.

“then how about you introduce the next song?”

“the next song is for all those who end up meeting someone and know it won’t be more than just having fun. and they’re okay with that. talk fast.”

you wondered what it looked like from their perspective. you turn to face the crowd and you’re overwhelmed with what you see. people screaming their lungs out to the lyrics, some dancing with their friends, you even see some people crying. you also see some signs. some more creative than others, and some sweeter than others.

you manage to spot one that made you a little uncomfortable; “call me red with the way i be riding hood”

sure, clever, but it made you realize that if you had a shot with calum, what’s stopping him from hooking up with any other fan when you’re not around?

shit.

maybe you did like him more than just a fuck buddy.

during the next intermission you and sierra had made some small talk until you overheard some girls next to you in the pit talking about calum.

“oh i’d totally fuck him.” she says nonchalantly. “i bet you i could easily pull him by the end of the night, i just need to find my way in.” she giggles.

you shift on your feet and turn to sierra who also heard it. “welcome to my life..” she raises her eyebrows then take a sip of her drink.

you sit in silence on the uber ride back to the hotel. calum sat to your right, you knew he was looking at you and he wanted to ask what was wrong.

did you have a bad night?

was the show bad?

the whole way back to the hotel you hadn’t spoken one word to him. you didn’t even look at him.

why did you feel like this?

calum wasn’t even yours. you had no valid reason to be angry.

except you did.

you were afraid that he would want someone else, that you were easily replaceable. you couldn’t deal with that, you couldn’t go through another heartbreak.

you should’ve known that messing with him would’ve lead to this, but you were naïve and wanted something to distract you from your ex boyfriend.

your feet seem to have a mind of their own as you storm past calum and out into the freezing cold.

"y/n/n, cmon don't be this way", he laughs innocently while pacing himself behind you.

you don’t say anything except press the elevator button and wait impatiently for the doors to open. you really couldn’t tell anyone why you were being so stubborn, hell, you didn’t even know why.

once the doors opened you were quick to slip in and press the button to your floor. you stand with your arms crossed, staring blankly at the metal. doors. you were quietly wishing he would say something, anything at all.

“y/n?” he tries reaching for your arm but you shrug him off. “not in the mood cal.” you reply. you knew you were being stubborn and very annoying.

he hasn’t given you a reason to act this way towards him.

you knew you were overreacting. plain and simple.

*ding*

the elevator doors opened and you walk through the hallway towards your bedroom. you scan the keycard and open the door letting calum follow behind you like a lost puppy.

you throw your purse on the bed and take your jacket off. “y/n. please.” you hear him sigh. calum feels guilty and he doesn’t even know what the hell he did. but whatever it was he was going to fix it. he couldn’t take you being mad at him like that.

“why dont you go bother someone else, looked like there was plenty that would love to be in your bed” you hiss, the words spilling from your lips like venom.

calum stops in his tracks, also removing the leather jacket from his shoulders and tossing it on the bed. “what?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“don’t play dumb, cal.”

“i don’t know what you mean, y/n.” he bites back.

“i mean, if you can sleep around with me what’s stopping you from sleeping with your fans?” you confess.

calum just stares at you, “what? what are you talking about?” the bassist was genuinely confused, you had never reacted, at least, not when he was around.

“the people at the show, cal. the signs, their outfits, the way they talk about you-“

calum cuts you off, “look, i don’t know where this is coming from or why you’re acting like this but-“

“i’m acting like this because it was never just about being friends with benefits calum!” you confess, staring at him intently. “i can’t keep acting like im okay with not being able to love you. i don’t want to be hurt again. not by you”

everything came spewing out of you like a waterfall. all the months of pent up frustration and confusion had finally found its way into the world.

you were so frustrated you didn’t even realize what you had said, you turn to look out the window and stare at the lights from the city.

calum doesn’t say anything, racking his brain to make sure he heard you right. you said you loved him, without really even saying the three words.

“you said you love me.”

you look over at him, “what?”

“you just said you ‘can’t keep acting like you don’t love me’.” he repeats.

you shake your head and look away from him. “i didn’t.” you try to get him to leave it alone.

“you did” he sighs, coming next to you and takes you by the shoulders and turns you to face him. “you practically said you love me.”

“calum-“

“i love you too.” he smiled. “i don’t know if that means anything now but i do. i have for a while.” he confessed.

“y/n, you’re nothing like i imagined you would be. when i met you that night in the bar i thought you’d be like all the other girls, which i know doesn’t help, but; this has been the best past year of my life and i think of you more than someone i fuck occasionally.” calum is looking into your eyes. “you’re more than that, y/n/n.”

there are tears welling in your eyes, you shake your head. “i don’t want to be hurt again. i don’t think i could take it.” calum nods, reaching for your hands.

“i understand, but trust me when i say that id never do anything to hurt you, okay?” calum assures, “you’re everything and more.”

*buzz*

*buzz buzz*

you groan and reach for your phone, opening one eye to look at the notifications. you have over ten messages and five calls from olivia. you sigh, wanting to ignore her antics but maybe it was an emergency. you unlock your phone and see all the messages.

‘girl check instagram.’

‘what time is it there’s

‘are you asleep?’

‘omg omg y/n!!!!’

‘you’re not gonna believe this.’

‘girl i’m freaking out !!!!!’

‘y/n please check your instagram.

‘you’re gonna flip.’

‘ please wake up.’

‘i’m calling you’

you sit up in confusion and then check your other notifications to see over hundreds of notifications from instagram. “what the hell” you croak and then open the app.

‘calumhood tagged you in a post.’

you swipe through the pictures until you see the very last picture which was you standing in front of the eiffel tower with your back turned to him admiring the view and then you saw the caption; “they say paris is the city of love <3”

you practically shoot up from your position staring wide eyed at the phone. you read some of the comments in a panic.

‘lukehemmings: it’s about damn time’

ashtonirwin: finally! don’t hurt my girl;)

calumhood replying to ashtonirwin: your girl?

ashtonirwin replying to calumhood: yep:)

michaelclifford: called it!

sierradeaton: you posted the pic !! omg !!!

5sos_updates: the last slide omg!?!? also last night was crazy!

iheartcalumhood: who’s the girl?

“calum??” you say out, hoping he was still in the room.

you hear the bathroom door open. “yeah?” he asks walking around the corner only dressed in a pair of basketball shorts.

“why did you post that?” you ask showing him the instagram post. “i wanted to prove to you that everything i said last night is true”

you blink, staring at him with little to no expression. “your first thought to do that was post me on your instagram?”

“uhh i guess? should i not have done that?” you crack a smile and look down at your phone, “i cant believe you, cal.” you say, falling back on the bed to scroll through more comments.

“can’t go back on it now” he says, standing at the foot at the bed.

“you’re stuck with me forever” he says crawling on the bed, hovering over your figure. “really? because ashton said i was his girl. sounds like you have some competition, hood.” you state, showing calum his comment.

he takes your phone and tosses it somewhere else on the bed. “nope, you’re my girl forever and always.” he hums leaning in to leave kisses on your neck which earned giggles from you. “calum!”

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