#but he has a few screws up in his head loose

[lizajane2]

Gojo: "That Yuji. He's missing a few up here."

That's funny, cause what does that make you, Satoru? You're crazier, you have one brain cell sometimes. Yuji just makes up for the cell you're missing. Idiot. He's an idiot.

[hoshigray]

suguru and choso making the reader squirt for the first time via reader receiving oral... please and thank u sm hoshibutt 👅

၇͜ᩘ𑁍 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - breast fondling + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - first time squirting! - pet names (baby, cutie, good girl, sweetie) - reader is a bit self-conscious - mention of saliva.

“How is it, baby? Feeling good?”

“A-Ahh…y-yesss, feels good…Mmmm, so good.”

“Ya hear that, Choso? Keep doing what you’re doing!”

You throw your head back to Geto’s shoulder, who’s stationed behind you, his hands nestled inside your shirt to grope your chest. Meanwhile, Choso kneels on the floor, the pony-tailed man going to town between your legs.

It was meant to be a typical date, spending the afternoon in your boyfriends’ apartment. You could’ve sworn that today entailed some delicious slices of local pizza, video games, and an action movie. However, you might have guessed somewhere down the line that the two men would eventually derail their attention from the television screen into a film of their own…

All three of you were in the living room, your back glued to the front of Geto’s red flannel shirt. The long raven-haired man’s hands fondle your chest lovingly while Choso feasts on your cunt, wet with his saliva lathering your folds with his tongue. He holds your legs apart so the focus on your chasm is easier to maintain.

You screw your eyebrows together at the flick of your clitoris by the wet muscle. “Ohhh, ohhh…!”

“Making cute noises for us, cutie?” Geto kisses your cheek and tweaks your nipples pleasantly. “Your nipples are getting stiff, too.”

Choso sucks your essence after spitting on your labia, flinging his tongue around to gather as much of your taste as he can. He then peers up to see that Geto has lifted your shirt, exposing your chest to the open. He swallows thickly and removes his lips from your vulva, bringing his lips to capture one of the buds of your mounds. You mewl at the contact of his tongue, now swirling around your nipple as he sucks sluggishly.

“Heh, must taste good everywhere, huh?” Geto doesn’t expect an answer from Choso sucking on your tit. Instead, he coats his middle and ring finger with his saliva and travels them down to your folds, pushing them inside with ease and immediately wriggling them around to feel your gummy texture. 

You cry out at the insertion, his digits going faster after a few jagged pushes and pulls. He dwells them further, scraping your insides with his blunt fingertips. And the pace becomes frantic, digging them knuckle-deep at a fast rhythm that has you gripping on Choso’s black tee for support. 

“Gaaahhh, w-wait, slow down!” You’re wailing in pleads. There’s too much going on: Choso sucking on your tit relentlessly, pushing your nipple to the top of his mouth, and grazing it with his teeth. And Geto, playing with the other mound while he pleases you with vaginal stimulation. “N-Naaahh, Christ, wait!” Your body wishes to jerk, but your legs are pushed to your chest, leaving your lower half squirming to no end. Something’s coming! “I-I caann’t—Dahaahh!” 

Geto’s sporadic movements have you whining until he removes them to lick, and Choso releases your nipple to return to your vulva, sucking on your clit and lapping around your urethra and inner lips. Shivers rock your core, and you–unforsakenly–let loose.

Between your legs, you unleash a clear, watery substance, ejecting it into Choso’s mouth. It takes him aback, tilting back to let the liquid spray slightly. However, he returns to lick the glands after a moment, secreting the surprising liquid that still exudes from your system and leaves a watery mess everywhere. Until it stops, it sprinkles all over your inner thighs and surely wets the giver’s shirt.

Violet eyes ventured down and witnessed the entire scene. “Oh, woah!”Three figures stay frigid for a few seconds, assessing what occurred within the past ten seconds. “…I had no idea you were a squirter.”

“Same here,” Choso agrees, licking his lips and wiping his cheeks with his shirt after straightening himself.

“Neither did…I?” You blink, a little too shocked to move. “I-…I’m sorry, I made your clothes wet!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Geto’s hands leave your chest and come to your inner thighs to massage. “It’s normal.”

“N-No, really, though; I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I could even do that; it went in your mouth, and I probably ruined this whole—“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Choso palms your cunt to smear the substance you squirted. “That was…pretty fucking hot.”You open your lips to rebuttal, yet impossible as they stun you. The pig-tailed man takes off his shirt and slides his jeans down to his knees, and your breath hitches at his long cock springing out from his bowers. 

“Yeah, it was,” Geto chimes in while the other takes a seat next to him and takes you by the hand. “I’m kinda curious if you can do that again now.”

Awkwardness still has you by the neck, but Choso coaxes you while massaging your ass, sneaking his finger inside to finger. “Mmmph…You–Are you sure?”

“Totally,” Geto chuckles as he stands and strips his flannel shirt. His arms are now out from the white tank top. “Can’t let this opportunity go to waste, right?”

“C’mere, sweetie,” Choso guides you by the waist, the glans of his erect cock pushing onto the entrance of your asshole. You gasp sharply once you feel him add himself, leisurely bringing your ass down to sit on him. After a few seconds of a few bounces on his dick, Geto brings your legs for Choso to hold so your wet slit is out for his vision.

Geto licks his fingers with a dark snicker. “Stay just like that,” the digits skim around your labia until they’re pushed inside. 

You jolt with a shriek, Choso right there to soothe you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Good girl.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[maopll]

Helloooo!!!! really interesting event you have going on here :D . a couple pennies for my request?

Can I get a "Hot things they do" prompt with

HSR: Jing Yuan, Sunday, and Boothill Genshin: Neuvillete and Pantalone

Gn!Reader please and thank you <3

HOT THINGS THEY DO

⋆·˚ you swoon over and practically drool whenever he does something which you love to the moon and back. even the simplest of things has you feeling something burning and fluttering inside ...

note : anon you've got tastes. I don't know if there is anything particular I like that they do everything will have me folding over.

sfw // fluff a lil goofy, slight suggestive gn!reader

— ୨ JING YUAN ୧

His breathy laughter is the best of both worlds. Nothing compares to it. Although you are a big fan of his chuckle whenever he is in a tight spot or has it figured out, his laughter is still incomparable.

But he kind of disagrees with you on this since he would have approved it if it was his thighs. He knows how thick they are and how the strap around his upper thigh makes it look even more enticing. "Who says I don't like it?" you retort.

— ୨ SUNDAY ୧

Whenever he is in deep thought, he would leave his pen, cross his arms and would run his fingers through his hair. Most of the time his hair is prim and proper. But when he puffs his chest up in frustration , eyes squinting , and hair a little bit messy, you can confirm that you become like a victorian man seeing ankles.

"Is this the way you like it?" Sunday says a bit unsure as he is practically wearing something that looks diametrically opposite from what he wears. Shirt, jeans, jacket, cap and all the items that screams 'rock metal genre'.

"Stay still pretty boy I need a good picture for my wallpaper"

— ୨ BOOTHILL ୧

"Babe I find you really hot when you threaten people to kill them whenever they try being real mushy mushy with me"

"You muddle fudger I can't even curse them with the real scary words and you liked that?" Boothill stares at you bewildered. "Your synesthesia beacon working overtime and your hands pointing the gun at him as you threaten to do the wildest shit to him if he ever touches me is very very hot you wouldn't understand". He would usually comply with whatever you say but this time he truly thinks that you've got a few screws loose there. But maybe that's your charm and your 'hot thing'.

"Well if you find THAT hot then ..." he swifts you off your feet and places his hat onto your head "don't you like it when I do this hmm sweetie ?"

— ୨ NEUVILLETTE ୧

While the things or his actions are mostly adorable or gentlemanly, even he has his sides which would leave your heart beating fast and hard. But oh lord have mercy on you because when he would tie his hair messily to focus on his paperwork, you fold.

Neuvillette was about to sit down after he tied his hair in a ponytail, but you noticed his tied hair and without thinking you blurted out,

"Do it again"

"Do what again ?"

"Tie your hair again.. I wanna see..."

He obliged to your request like he usually does even though he was a little confused, but when he turned around to face you, you were blushing HARD and one of your hands was on your chin as if scrutinising his every movement and every flex of his muscles. Neuvillette just chuckled at your antics. "Like what you see dear?" "Very much..." you strided towards him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. No matter how many times you ask such silly requests of him, he will always fulfil them.

— ୨ PANTALONE ୧

You didn't know what captivated you to like pantalone and you wanted to find what was something he did that made you find it hot. Lo and behold you found it when he was threatening one of the fatui members.

Two new recruits were standing at esse in front of Pantalone, who was eyeing them from top to bottom. "So... cryogunner... what was the order?" The cryogunner, after swallowing down the lump in his throat with hesitation, replied, "s— sir ... we had to take down the owner of the illegal organisation–"

"And what was the result I received?" his voice cold and eyes piercing. His anger were visible in his eyes even though it did not reflect on his face. "Out of my sights right now the punishment that you two will receive for not abiding to the order will be not so savoury"

The two fatui scurried away after shouting a 'yes sir'. After they left, he removed his glasses and scrunched his face rubbing his temple. Looks like more work got added to his already pending list of tasks. His eyes were full of wrath and anger muttering archons know what

you chuckle "you know your face is doing things to me babe"

"dear I'm not in the mood—" but looking at your face has him rethinking his decision. You biting your lips and eyes dazed... hmm looks like you've found the way to relieve his stress then?

"It's going to be a rough day hm? dear"

[mills-73]

Don’t Stop

After 30 years in another dimension, Stanford is quite inexperienced in the women department, although he does know how to pleasure you quite well.

TAGS: 18+, smut; dude is touch-starved, do you see where this is going? mild humiliation (you tease him and he gets horny), p in v, cunningligous

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

You never knew Stan had a twin brother up until recently.

You came into work, seeing double, thinking you had some serious brain damage, before Stan explained the situation to you. His name was Stanford—which confused you until that was also explained—and he’d been trapped in another dimension for thirty years. Heaven knows that alone threw you for a loop.

Dimension? Portals? Total baloney. But hey, it’s Gravity Falls, so it’s 99% likely to be true. And with one look at Ford, you believed it instantly.

He truly looked like he was out of place here, like he spent so long somewhere else that he didn’t know how to fit in anymore. He was paranoid and definitely had a loose screw or something with the way he tore apart the Mystery Shack “just in case he’s here.” You had no idea who this “he” person could be, but you didn’t question it.

Stan finally, after months of being here and begging him to let you in on the secrets of the Mystery Shack, finally spilled the beans to you. You soaked up every word with a smile on your face.

When Ford actually noticed that you were in the room with them, he stopped dead in his tracks and just kind of stared at you, a small tint of coral flowing over the bridge of his nose. You could barely see it because of his glasses, but then his cheeks puffed a little and you knew he was embarrassed about what you just witnessed him doing.

You introduced yourself to him, attempting to shake his six-fingered hand. He politely refused. You and Stan shared a look of unease but otherwise left Ford alone for the time being.

You went about your day, Stan leading a group of tourists through the museum as you sat at the counter and observed Ford looking at every object in the room. If there was anything yellow or triangle shaped he threw it away despite your protests.

He seemed a little weird, you thought. Handsome as fuck, but weird. Especially when he’d just stare at you when he thought you weren’t looking, almost as if he didn’t think you were real. You didn’t think it was creepy or anything, but almost cute, maybe. He seemed so interested in you, squinting his eyes, tilting his head, even going as far as to come up to you and poke your shoulder. You only raised an eyebrow at him when he did that and he rushed out an apology and quickly left. You didn’t see him for a few days after that.

When you did, he carried a worn, brown leather journal in his hands. He sat in the gift shop with you and wrote in it for the rest of the day, giving you the occasional glance over his glasses.

You wanted to know what his deal was with you, but you couldn’t really outright ask him. He probably just felt weird being around people he didn’t really know all that well. Although, even if that was the case, why would he actively sit in a room with them? You decided not to think too much about it or your head was going to explode.

What you were really curious about was what he was writing. Stan had told you yesterday that he wrote three journals documenting the paranormal creatures and anomalies he’s found throughout his time in Gravity Falls. It sounded interesting enough, and you wanted to ask him about everything he knew. But he had just come back from being in another dimension, so you thought it’d be best to give him some space before you bombard him with question upon question.

For the remainder of the day, he didn’t talk to you. And he wouldn’t for a few weeks. But he was always keeping an eye out.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Your interest is piqued at very best when it comes to the mind of Stanford Pines. Him and that damn journal he keeps on him at all times now has you tracking his every movement when he’s around, trying your damnedest to get a peek at what he’s writing. But whenever you get close enough he snaps it shut and immediately pretends he's finished with whatever he was doing.

Now you’re even more curious.

How can you make him leave that journal behind for just a few moments so you can take a peek inside? You figure he’s not stupid enough to leave it behind if he goes somewhere, so you ask Stan to swipe it for you while he’s sleeping.

“You owe me twenty bucks, kid.”

The next day, Stan slips you the journal, holding his hand out for the money you owe him. You sigh and slap it in his hand.

“Tell no one.”

You roll your eyes and sneak off to the roof to read it. You feel a little bad about invading his privacy like this, but you have to know what he’s writing about all the damn time. It’s like a plague that can only be cured by reading the journal's contents.

You open it to the first page and your lips part in a gasp.

There’s multiple doodles of what looks like you scattered around, your name repeated over and over and then crossed out. You flip the page. It’s a journal only dedicated to you, your behavior, drawings of your face. There’s one page in particular that looks as if Ford went on a deep dive off the dark end.

Ford seems fascinated with you. You trace the ink lines of his pen with your finger, your eyes flickering over each word. He mentions at one point that he doesn’t think you’re real, going as far as to say you’re a succubus sent to make him lose his mind. Which is a little far out, but it makes you laugh. A sex demon? Really?

The other things he says about you is a little…weird to say the least.

“Could this be another one of Bill’s tricks? Is he trying to control me by using her? I need to check her eyes.”

The phrase “look at her eyes” is repeated over and over again across countless pages. More drawings here and there and comments about how he can’t stop thinking about you. He expresses he understands what’s happening to him so he’s writing all of it down, watching you for the better part of his day just to see if he can figure you out.

It’s kind of cute.

You assume that because he’s been gone for so long he doesn’t know how to approach you to actually try and talk to you. Or maybe he just likes observing from a distance.

Whatever the case, you snap the journal closed and stare off into the forest.

You have an opportunity to tease him for the stuff you’ve found, but is that too cruel? He’d blush so beautifully if you ever told him what you found out.

You think for a minute.

It’s not that cruel.

With a smirk, you climb back down the latter to the gift shop, spotting Ford turning over everything in sight. You know what he’s looking for, so you just stand there and smile.

“Looking for this?” You wave the journal around, watching his back stiffen and his eyes widen.

“H-How did you get that?”

You shrug your shoulders, flipping it open. Ford rushes for you and snatches it out of your hands, holding it close to his chest. His face is pink and his eyes look fearful.

“Very interesting topics you chose to write about. Is that your latest research?” You tease, stepping closer to him.

Ford swallows thickly. “You—You weren’t supposed to see that. How did you even—?” He blush deepens, a hand reaching to scratch at the back of his neck.

You feign innocence and smile sweetly at him. “I’m very curious to know about this succubus. I thought they were just myth?” He looks around as if he’s hoping someone will come in and save him from his embarrassment. “It’s cute you thought I was one. I’m very honored you see me like that, Ford.”

“It’s not what it looks like! I promise,” he raises his voice. “

“Then what is it like, Ford? Hm?” You reach your hand out, running your fingers down the side of his face. You delight in his shiver. “Because it seems to me that you like me.”

Ford stutters over his words, his eyes flickering to your lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You shrug. “If you say so.”

You begin to walk around him, ending the conversation, but he grabs you by the arm and stops you, whispering a soft “Wait.”

Your eyes meet and you smile. “Yes?”

“What…What didn’t think of it?”

“Of the journal?” He nods. You smile. “It was interesting.”

He’s silent, looking at your lips as his tongue darts out and wets his own. You lean in, whispering against the shell of his ear. “Do you like me, Ford?”

His gulp is audible. “I’d say I’m…I’mintrigued by you.”

“Only intrigued?” Your fingers run down his arm to his hand, your thumb running over his knuckles. His intake of breath makes you smirk. “I think you’re a bit more than that, handsome.”

After a few moments he admits "I find you stimulating."

You giggle at him. You turn you head so your lips are inches apart, loving how he eyes your mouth with ferocious need. "How stimulating?"

Without a seconds thought, he crashes his lips against yours, dropping his journal to the ground so he can grip your hips in his hands. You gasp in surprise but simmer into the kiss.

He's a little sloppy with it but you don't mind all that much, kissing him back with enough fervor that has him moaning into your mouth.

Ford pushes you up against the wall of the Shack, whimpering breathlessly as he bites at your bottom lip. Your hands come up to wrap around his neck, your fingers deftly running over the ends of his hair. He moans and begins to pepper kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

"Ford," you moan, trying to get his attention. "Ford, wait. We can't do this here."

He murmurs something under his breath before dragging you by your hands to another room of the shack. It's his bedroom.

You look at him, noting the need planted all over his face. You never really thought of him like this before, but seeing him actually want you like a crazed mad-man has your heart stuttering in your chest.

Before you know it, he’s on you again, pushing you towards the bed and climbing on top of you. His hips rut against yours as he licks into your mouth, his hands slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. He seems so desperate for you, and you guess spending thirty years without someone to fuck time to time would have its effects on someone. Hell, you don’t even know if you could go thirty years without sex.

The feel of his fingers on your skin sends a jolt of fire to your core, your heart rate picking up as you realize how far he wants to go with this. His erection is pressing against your thigh, so unbelievably hard that you understand his neediness.

“Your skins so soft,” he whispers against your lips, giving you one last chaste peck before sitting up, admiring you from above. “Do you want to do this with me? Because I really…” he gazes down your body. “I swear you put a spell on me or something.”

You laugh at his remark, sitting up on your elbows. “I want this.”

At your consent, he kisses you again, his hands roaming over every inch your body. You arch into his touch, sighing into his mouth when his thumbs run across your nipples.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, a little unsure. He tweaks at each bud, a shiver in running down your spine.

“Yes,” you breathe. “It’s perfect, Ford.”

He slips your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving your bra. His lips trail down your neck to the top of your breasts, your fingerings burying themselves in his hair as he kisses each one. He pulls the pads of your bra down, the cool air making your nipples pepper in response.

Ford’s mouth latches on to your right tit, his tongue lapping around. A moan drags itself from the back of your throat, sitting up slightly to unclasp the fabric from your body. His other hand comes up to give attention to your other boob, pinching and tweaking at your nipple.

He praises your breasts with his mouth before moving downwards, quickly ridding your body of the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare and vulnerable for him.

“It’s—” he chuckles nervously. “—It’s been a while since I’ve done this, if I’m being honest.” He licks his lips and leans down between your thighs, kissing the skin tenderly. You shutter. “Let me know if I’m doing things right.”

You nod and he kisses you again, trailing up to the spot between your thighs, the stipple of his beard scratching you in ways that make you tremble.

Slowly, teasingly, he begins to lap at your folds, tasting your essence. He hums softly, seemingly lost in the sensation as the pleasure builds higher and higher. Your fingers find their way to his hair, pulling gingerly at the grey strands.

"Oh, fuck," you cry as he sucks at your clit. "You're doing so fucking good. Oh my god!"

At your praise, he seems to go harder, the vulgar sounds of your own wetness and his tongue echoing off the walls. You feel one of his fingers slip inside you, his tongue never stopping it's ministrations against you clit.

You cry out as he begins to finger you slowly. Pressure begins to form low in your gut, wrapping around the bottom of your spine. He adds another finger after a moment, scissoring them inside of you.

His other arm comes up to wrap around your hips, holding you in place as he curls his fingers, making you gasp. Your orgasm is fast approaching and you don't know if you can hold it off for too much longer.

Another nip to your clit and a particularly rough thrust inside, you shatter. Your thighs shake graciously as he helps you through your orgasm, quickly becoming almost overstimulating that you have to beg him to have mercy on you.

He smiles up at you from between your legs, his lips glistening with your slick. "Was that okay?"

Still breathless, you nod. "You did so good, handsome." His glasses are foggy and a little crooked and you reach out and fix them. "Did you want to do more?"

He groans. "Yes, please. I need more."

"Then take what you need, honey," you tease, spreading you leg further.

Ford is quick to remove his clothes, his cock hard and the tip an angry shade of red. "Don't laugh if I don't last very long," he murmurs, sliding back between your legs, dragging the tip along your folds.

You bite your lip at the feeling, bucking your hips to invite him to push inside. As he does, you gasp. He's not entirely huge, but he's thick, and he streaches you out perfectly.

He feels fucking amazing.

When he bottoms out, he falls over you, holding himself up by his arms. He shutters, his eyes closing as he looses himself inside of you. Ford pulls out, shallowing thrusting inside of you. You purr at the feeling, meeting his movements, soft moans slipping past your lips.

He picks up the speed, pulling out completely and slamming back inside of you, hitting your sweet spot just right, causing you to throw your head back in a silent scream.

Ford fucks you slow and hard, the sound of skin meeting skin and vulgar yet breathy moans filling the room. He whimpers above you, his cock twitching inside you.

"Fuck, Ford. You're fucking me so well," you cry, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please. Go faster."

"I-I don't think I can, darlin'," he gasps.

"Then let me ride you."

He groans at your words, slipping out of you after a few seconds. You flip the two of you over, settling on top. You guide the head of his cock inside, lowering yourself down until he fills you up perfectly.

Ford stares up at you, lips parted in awe. You start to grind down on him, moving your hips in a circular motion.

"Fuck," he whines, "you're amazing."

You start to bounce up and down, holding yourself up by your hands on his chest, your nails grazing over his skin. He flexs his hips upwards to meet your hips, not being able to hold his moans of pleasure back.

"Please," he begs. "Don't stop."

You weren't planning on it, riding him like your life depends on it. The stimulation to your clit and the tip of his cock hitting you just right has you falling over the edge not even a minute later, your legs spasming as a second orgasm washes over you.

His own moans become more strained and whiney, and you know he's close as he begins to pump inside of you, matching your rhythm.

"Cum for me, Ford," You say, breathless and desperate for him to fill you up.

He throws his head back, mouth drooped open as his hands come up to your hips. He grips them roughly, fucking up into you roughly, making you scream out in pleasure. He's whimpering and groaning and you feel him spill inside of you seconds later, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your breaths fill the air around, your body slumping onto of his.

"You were great," you mumble into his neck.

You feel him turn away, hiding his face into his shoulder. "I, uh...t-thanks."

You giggle. "Don't be getting all shy on me now."

Slowly, you roll off of him, Ford hissing at the stimulation. He pushes his foggy glasses up on his face, not daring to meet your eyes.

"Was it okay?" he mumbles. "It's been a little while and--"

"It was more than okay, Ford." You smile. "I hope we can do it more often."

He looks over at you, a blush on his cheeks. "I'd...I'd be okay with that."

You smirk, giving him a kiss. "Good."

~

ARTWORK BY @pumafysketch

ty for reading! i honestly hate this but it's wtv. i’ll probably write more but anyway

tags: @loslox @emgrth

[neowinestainedress]

wave | lee donghyuck (part two)

part 1 | masterpost | full fic not split in two

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, weed/alcool consumption, thigh riding, oral (receiving, giving), unprotected sex, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 20.3k (out of 42k)

a/n: here’s the second part. please if you liked it leave feedback (comments, reblogs, asks), i love knowing your opinions and it keeps me motivated to keep posting my writing. enjoy!

After too many dates, too many studying sessions together, and in general too much time spent together —even with his group of friends— you feel like this is a relationship that simply hasn’t been named, yet. Something about everything doesn’t feel like just sex and hate.

You’re fine like this, for once believing you can let loose a little and still do well in your studies.

Haechan, instead, thinks his plan is going amazingly. He knows he has you distracted, he knows he takes away your time, and he knows everything is technically perfect. But the plan is not the best made of his life, and the more time passes, the more he forgets about it, and the more he thinks about you.

He never planned to use you, that had to be clear. He just wanted to distract you with sex —something you both wanted to have— and give you a boyfriend experience so you could write the song in the best way possible. But in doing all that, he is more caught up in you —and not only because of the plan, he is just caught up in you— than in his studies.

It’s nine pm on Sunday after he dropped you home around four pm this afternoon. He made you meet his girl friends too for lunch and then you went back to his place to stay together for a while. But even if you spent almost the entire day together, he still misses you.

He rolls on his back as he goes into his contacts to text you again, he doesn’t have to scroll down, you’re second on the list since he last annoyed you forty minutes ago but you still haven’t replied. 

haechan: can you answer me?

haechan: i miss you : (

haechan: you didn’t even let me eat you out

haechan: you looked so pretty in that skirt i think it looks better with my head underneath it

haechan: fuck and now i’m hard thinking about you

mortal enemy: the only hard thing should be the books you should be studying on, remember we have a test tomorrow?

“Fuck,” he screams, sitting up. “What?”

He never forgets these things. He always writes them down in his agenda that he maniacally reads every day to make sure he’s always on time with his studying schedule. He can’t have forgotten about it. But, apparently, he did.

His thumb quickly wipes to call you and your answer doesn’t let him wait.

“I’m studying,” you huff annoyed as you pick up his phone call right away.

“Why would you go out with me if tomorrow we have a test?”

Your chuckle reaches his ear through the phone before he gets to hear your voice again. “Why not?”

“Don’t you want to be the top one? What about your grades? This adds up for the finals.” Panic fills his voice, he’s hoping you remembered just now and haven’t been studying since you went back, but you’re too relaxed for that to be true.

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, too calmly for his liking. Was his plan working? No, because you knew about it. And he completely erased the test, too busy thinking about you.

“And you go out?” He asks again as anxiety starts to take over him.

“Why would I lock myself up before a test? It’s not even that serious. There’s the topic you pick, and then like four questions that will surely be the main things we discussed in class, Professor Kim only knows one way of making tests.”

He groans, he can’t believe you’re always so ahead of him. “How do you know these things?”

“I use my brain,” you reply nonchalantly.  

“So you started studying… when you got home?”

“Last week.”

“Last week? Are you kidding me?” He screams so loud that he’s sure you have to move the phone from your ear.

You sigh, rubbing your temples, Haechan knows it, you always do that when he pisses you off somehow. “You didn’t open the book at least once until now?”  

“I…” I would usually read through the notes at least once a week, but I’ve been too busy. “I’ve… I read the notes, until some weeks ago. I got busy, okay?”

“Were you perhaps distracted by something Hyuck?” You ask teasingly, and he can see you twirl the end of your hair in your fingers while your tongue pokes at your cheek.

“Nothing distracts me,” he mutters, frowning even if you can’t see him.

“Then hang the call and try to read the notes at least, I’ll send you the recordings of the lessons, play them all night maybe something will stick to your brain.”

“Okay, bye. Wish me good luck, please,” he says, and you chuckle. “No seriously, don’t manifest against me, I need all your good energy.”

“I will, Hyuck. Just give it a quick read and then try to get as much sleep as possible. You have a brain and you’re smart with it, it’s better for you to be active tomorrow than force information that just won’t get in, alright?”

He hums, weirdly feeling a bit calmer at your words. “’kay, goodnight, babe.”

“Goodnight.”

Haechan sighs, slumping on the bed, boner long gone and anxiety on his chest, until the screen lights up again and a few messages from you show up.

mortal enemy: 10 audios + 10 files ‘music theory notes’ sent the audios anyway but my *perfect* notes should be enough to not make you pull up an all-nighter also don’t stress too much, I appreciate the act of chivalry to make me top this class grades again :;

He forgot about an exam, he didn’t study for it, yet he’s smiling like an idiot because of you.

Haechan’s screwed.

“So, how did it go?” You ask, blocking Haechan as soon as the bell rings and Professor Kim dismisses the class, letting you know the results will be in next week.

Haechan glares at you, and you suck your teeth. “Come on, it wasn’t that difficult,” you say, sitting on his desk, as he looks for something in his bag.

“I did great, I just don’t want to admit your notes are perfect and were enough to save my ass,” he says, and you can’t hold back the smile.

“You’re welcome,” you say, standing up and kicking him playfully with a swing of your hips.

“Hey! You could’ve made me fall,” he jokes, grabbing his bag before taking a step back so you can lead the way out of there. “And thank you.”

You chuckle, lowering your head to hide that dumb grin on your face. “You know, I wanted to ask you why we never revisited music theory but I thought you wanted to do it on your own, maybe you were scheming something against me.”

“What? I would never scheme against you,” he says as you start walking to lunch.

You stare at him with a raised brow, and he huffs. “It was in the past and you did it too. Also, what would I scheme?”

“I don’t know, maybe you sneaked into his office and stole the test to already know the answers?”

“That would be cheating, not beating you. There’s no fun in that,” he says, holding the door of the cafeteria open for you.

“You’re such a fair rival,” you joke as you head to the buffet to grab something to eat.

“Wait,” he stops you when your plates are full. “Why don’t you sit at our table? I hate seeing you eat alone.”

“Have you ever considered I can’t stand how loud your friends are?”

“Oh come on, you already deal with them when you come to my place.”

“Exactly.”

Haechan huffs, standing in front of you to stop you from going toward your table. “We can go to yours today.”

You furrow, lightly tilting your head to the side. “We don’t have anything to study.” You try to decipher his expression and think if you could get so distracted to forget something you had to work on or revisit.  “The song?”

He shakes his head. “I might…” he pauses, trying to find a way to say what he wants to say that’s not so humiliating, but then he gives up with a heavy sigh that rolls from his lips. “Okay, I need help.”

“You?” You scream, attracting some attention on you, and Haechan glares at you, pulling you to the sides so that the curious gazes can linger away from you.

“Yes, me,” he replies through gritted teeth. “It’s just a small thing, but I don’t get it.”

You smirk smugly and he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I can’t wait to tutor you,” you reply, starting to walk to his group of friends’ table.

“Why can’t I ever win with you?” He whispers, shaking his head and following you.

You’re not sure Haechan told you the truth. He is smart but he isn’t the best actor ever, and when he came to your place to try to understand that small thing he didn’t understand in sociology, you were pretty sure it was just an excuse. You explained it in less than five minutes, he got it too quickly and immediately started messing around.

You don’t mind it, though. You enjoy spending some time with him. He’s a good distraction. Surely you would’ve fixed some notes or listened to some lessons instead of… well, instead of being on his lap with your fingers in his hair and his hands on your ass, grinding on him.

You hold in a moan when he concentrates on your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking the spot that makes you shiver. And you’d like to go on like this, but you need more. So you shift on top of his thigh, while yours presses against his hardening dick and makes him growl.

“What are you do—”

“Shh,” you shush him quickly, pressing your thumb on his lips before replacing it with your lips. “Ouch,” you gasp when he bites on your lower lip. “Why did you do that?”

Haechan chuckles, shrugging before leaning close to you again. “Why not?”

You frown but have no intention of carrying it any further. You can feel your panties stick to your skin and you just want to come, not really caring if it’s just like this.

But the moment of intimacy, if you could call it that, gets interrupted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket.

“God, just answer,” you yell when Haechan ignores the third call but whoever is on the other line has no intention to stop trying.

Haechan rolls his eyes as his right hand leaves your ass to search through his pocket and huffs annoyed when he sees the name on the screen.

“Jaemin, what?” Haechan groans as you keep moving on his thighs, ignoring his deadly glare. “No, I’m busy.”

You faintly make out an angry reply from the other side, but you don’t care enough to understand what Jaemin’s saying.

“No, I can’t go out with you.”

“We can,” you reply loudly enough so that Jaemin can hear while Haechan scowls at you again, muttering a scold under his breath, but his anger is quickly addressed to his friend on the other side.

“Yes, I’m with her,” he huffs, rolling his head back, trying to stop your movements but failing. “Don’t ask questions. And yes, fine, fine.”

When he hangs the call after mumbling a quick, annoyed goodbye, you chuckle. “Thought you didn’t want to hear my annoying friends?” It’s all he asks, leaving a small, teasing slap on your asscheek.

“What were we supposed to do? Stay inside all day?”

“Yes, we have everything here,” he says, spreading his arms to point around. “And you’re still grinding on me.” He looks down, eyes narrowing as he stares at your hips. 

“I’ll finish and then we’ll get out,” you wink, starting to move faster but he has no intention to get back into the mood, not yet, at least.  

“You’ll stain my pants and where do I come?” He huffs, and you’re sure he’s trying to find an excuse to don’t go outside rather than one to don’t fuck with you. He would never say no to that, especially when you two are already in the middle of it. 

“Take them off,” you urge, jumping off him, waiting for him to get undressed as you do the same, your panties the only thing staying on.  “Come on. You don’t want to be late.”

Haechan groans, “you’re so… so greedy. You just want everything.”

“Yeah, am I allowed to have one flaw?” You bat your lashes at him, grinning when his eyes roll in the back of his head. “Oh, will I stain the underwear, too?” You ask when his lower half is completely bare to your eyes.

“Honey, I’m not coming inside my boxers, can’t wear your panties to hang out with the boys,” he says annoyed.

You chuckle, climbing on his thigh again, watching him whimper when your bare leg brushes against his dick and you press on him to be as close as you were before.

He doesn’t know why you didn’t take the panties off, but he knows he doesn’t want them there. He wants to feel you on his skin. As hot as this is, he wants to feel your pussy drip down his thigh, and your panties are stopping the full experience.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Donghyuck!” You scream when the sound of the fabric ripping hits your ears and the chill air of the room hits your warm core.

He groans. “It’s so hot when you say my real name with an angry tone, makes it hard to hold back fucking you.”

“You need to stop ripping my stuff,” you complain, trying to hide how hot you found that, the ripping of the panties and that fucking smirk on his face now that he lays back against the headboard of your bed, so proud and snotty that is hard for you to hold back fucking him.

“Shut up, you love it,” he says, pulling you into a rough kiss, pushing your body closer while his hand rests on your hips to guide you in the movements. “Also they weren’t a good pair, if you were in lingerie I would’ve asked you politely to take them off.”

“You will never see me in lingerie,” you retort, pulling away as your hand sneaks down and starts moving up and down on his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, “at least warn me?”

“I’m half naked, grinding on top of you and I have to warn you when I grab your dick?” You ask. “If you don’t want, I won’t make you come.”

“No, just —fuck,” he glares at you when you concentrate on the tip, “don’t be a bitch.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckle but still move your hand quickly, following the steady rhythm of your thighs. Your head rolls back when one of his hands creeps under your shirt and cups your boob, his thumb brushing against your hard, sensitive nipple.

Haechan sucks in a deep breath when your thighs start shaking around his and your cum drips down his thigh. “Fuck,” he moans, eyelids fluttering as he looks at you, head reclined back as you hold onto him with only one hand, the other still busy taking care of him. “This is so hot, you are so hot.”

The compliment pushes you closer to reaching your high and when he lifts your shirt to wrap his lips around your sensitive nipple, you lose it.

You whimper and quiver, hips moving messily as you keep riding your high, breath getting stuck in your throat when he accidentally bites you as his orgasm washes over him unexpectedly.

“Fuck, sorry,” he mumbles, and if you weren’t still so lost in your pleasure you would let him know you liked it.

When your hips still, and the dizzying sensation calms down, you lay your head against his shoulder for a while as his arms wrap around your waist.

“Can we stay in?” Haechan pouts when you try to get away from him, reaching for your hand to keep you next to him before he rolls over when you shake your head and jump off the bed. “Please.”

“We can’t always fuck and study and study and fuck,” you reply, cleaning yourself up, holding in a sigh when you realize he stained the cover of your bed with his cum.  

“Who said I want to do either of those things?” He says, looking up at you with puppy eyes, pushing his lower lip out to pity you.

“I know you,” you reply, glaring at him before pulling your pants back on, not even caring about putting on another pair of underwear, you would’ve had to wash all those clothes anyway after taking a well-deserved shower, but for now you only had to pick some clothes to go out with the boys.

“No, let’s stay in and, I don’t know. Should we sing?” He proposes, jumping on his feet and putting his discarded underwear on.

You laugh, staring at him in shock. “You want to sing?”

“Yeah, you have a guitar, right?”

You nod, turning around the corner where your guitar is.

“Don’t you want to hear my angelic voice?”

You take a deep breath at his brag and then exhale loudly. “But Jaemin?”

“Fuck him, I don’t care,” he says while a small victory grin already starts widening on his face. He knows you’re about to give in.  

You huff, rubbing your temples and giving up fighting him when his fingers are already typing on the phone to tell his friend you two can’t come anymore.

When he puts the phone away and smiles at you in anticipation, you sigh. You really are stuck with him, aren’t you?

“Why don’t we prepare biscuits?” You suggest. You wanted to bake something for a while now, but you never really find time to dedicate to the kitchen.

“Biscuits?”

You nod, stealing his sweatshirt to wear on top of your shirt before walking to the kitchen —that space you consider the kitchen. 

“I’m a mess when it comes to cooking, you know, right?” He confesses as he leans against the countertop, watching you move around to grab all the ingredients and tools you need.

“You? Admitting you’re bad at something? To me?” You ask with a teasing tone, but you’re genuinely surprised he let you know without turning even this into a competition.

He fakes a laugh. “Very funny,” he says. “I just don’t want to hear you complain if I make some mistakes and ruin your perfect biscuits.”

You chuckle. “Can you weigh the ingredients and then put them all in a bowl?”

“All at the same time?”

You nod, handing him what he needs and showing him where the scale is. “Is not that hard, even you can do it. Plus, it will be another thing I teach you today,” you wink.

“Careful, baby. Don’t start thinking you’re so much better than me,” he says, starting to weigh the ingredients and putting them in each separate bowl.

You scoff. “Honey, I won’t start thinking that,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder, “I already think that.” You leave a teasing kiss on his cheek before he hits you with the flour and you gasp.

“Oh, no, we’re not doing that,” you warn, taking a step back, seeing how he’s ready with another handful of it.

“Then take it back,” he says nonchalantly.

“I never take back the truth —oh, Jesus Christ, Donghyuck!”

He laughs loudly, bending forward as he glances at you, flour on your face and well, his sweater. “Don’t call my name like that again, though. I won’t resist this time,” he says when he finally stands up and stands right in front of your face. “Now, will you take it back?”

“Never —Ah!” You scream when he lifts you up without a warning and sits you on the table before he starts tickling you. “No, no, please,” you babble, shaking your head and trying to stop his hands on you but he’s faster. “Okay, fine, I’m not better than you — I’m not better than you!”

“Good,” he says, stopping his torture and smiling proudly. “I love it when you listen,” he jokes, kissing you again.

You should hate it —or at least don’t like it so much— when he kisses you like this, out of nowhere, for no reason at all other than wanting to shut you up, or maybe to feel you. But you truly don’t mind. Actually, you lean in for another one, and another one and another… until you feel this is once again going in another direction and, as much as you’d love to indulge in the moment, you want to prepare those biscuits.

“Enough,” you say, pushing him away and jumping off the table. “No more food waste and we’re doing this together.”

You discover you and Haechan work better in the kitchen than in other fields, maybe because there’s no tension pushing you to do better but you are listening to each other, teaching tricks, and simply having fun. And this atmosphere stays with you even when he grabs the guitar and starts playing the tune of your song, you sing some bits of the lyrics and then jokily propose to add some about baking cookies on a cloudy spring afternoon, expecting him to laugh at it but he just smiles and tells you to go on. And you do, mumbling something about being in the kitchen, humming, baking, and laughing. You think it’s too cliché, and you will surely go back to it obsessively until it comes at you like you want it, but he loves it.

Then the oven rings, signalling the biscuits are ready and none of you can believe they came out good, nothing burned, and they’re tasty. Somehow, those cookies, feel like the biggest achievement you two ever made together.

“Maybe we should stop fighting each other,” he mumbles, after chewing his last bite. “We make a pretty great team.”

You smile, cleaning your lips with a napkin, crumbs falling on the table. “Hate to agree, but we do,” you say. “I mean… we kinda teamed up months ago, don’t you think so?”

“We want to kill each other, and you call that teaming up?”

“It’s our way of teaming up,” you reply, handing him a clean napkin so he can clean himself, and he takes it. “We just like to keep the flame alive, if we stopped bickering at all, it wouldn’t be so funny.”

Haechan shrugs, he guesses so. “Not like anybody else ever stood a chance with us on top.”

You chuckle. “Imagine if someone is using our rivalry to get to the top and we never noticed them.”

“Honey, trust me, I would’ve noticed.”

Once you’re done eating, you push him into the shower. There’s flour, and dough on all your clothes, and you still need to wash off the sex of before. You’d opt to shower separately but you’re tight on water and you have to make the best out of the confined space, reason why his plan to fuck another time fails.

“Why are you wearing my pink robe?” You turn around two seconds to grab the towel you prepared for him, and he betrays you. “This was for you,” you say, holding up the white towel as you stand there naked.

“I already put it on, it’s wet,” he says. “Come on, it’s pretty.”

“Yeah, that’s why is my favourite robe,” you pout, but still wrap the towel around you because you don’t want to freeze.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and, before you can even think how, you don’t feel the ground under your feet anymore. Your arms immediately wrap around his shoulders for more safety as you let him carry you outside. You have no idea what is going on today, but you like this, how he’s taking care of you —in his way, of course— and how this feels good.

“You have to change it anyway,” he says when he drops you on the bed and, as soon as you open your mouth, he knows you’re about to complain about the wet towel on the dry covers. “I’ll help you change it later.”

While you change into your new clothes, your pink pyjamas with small black hearts as a pattern, you watch him walk around as if he’s so familiar with the place —not that it would take much for anyone to know where everything is, considering how small it is— but something about it makes a feeling of comfort and warmth spread in your heart. Nobody else had ever been inside that place.

But then you snap out of it and realize he’s naked, and his clothes are dirty, so you rush to the closet to find something to give him.

“So, mhh,” you say, making the things you grabbed fall in front of him, who’s sitting at the table. “I have those sweatpants and a sweater, or these pyjamas if you want it, it’s pink, but it doesn’t look like you care much,” you note, looking at how much he’s rocking your robe.

“Pink pjs! We’ll match,” he says, eyes lighting up as he wastes no moment getting out of the bathrobe.

“Out of the kitchen!”

“There’s not even a wall?”

“Still, get out,” you say, pushing him with force away from there. “Better.”

He rolls his eyes but still grabs the shirt and pulls it on him, blinking when he sees a pair of clean boxers. “Why do you have these?” He still studies them, thinking he has seen them before.

“Because they’re yours,” you say nonchalantly while fixing your hair in a braid.

“They’re mine? I left them here?”

“I might’ve accidentally dragged them with me once,” you confess, looking at him with a big, awkward smile.

“When?”

“When Jaemin almost pushed the door down and we had to rush to get dressed. I just stuffed everything in my bag and your underwear was next to mine so, ta-da,” you say, stretching your arms and shaking your hands to complete the sound effect.

Haechan sighs, nodding. “Of course, it must have been because of Jaemin, somehow.”

“Well, it turned out useful, just put them on. I don’t want to see your dick more than necessary.”

Haechan scoffs and bites back a comment as he finishes getting dressed. “You have to admit I look really good in pink.”

You look at him up and down while he twirls, and you smile. “You would be my favourite Barbie at the mall if they sold you in boxes.”

“God, you’re so annoying, can’t ever make normal compliments,” he complains. “Come on, help me with the bed. It won’t clean itself.”

Making the bed with him is tiresome. His weird way and theories about making it lead you two to bicker more than you should and remake it twice to see who is right —you, obviously. So, once you’re done with it, laying on it with him by your side, you know not even God himself will make you stand up to cook dinner. You don’t need to say a word, Haechan already has his phone out ready to order, and you couldn’t be happier.  

You spend ten minutes deciding what movie to watch and another five bickering because you don’t want to eat on the bed, but he insists you won’t make a mess, and if you do, he will help you clean up. It ends with you giving up and the bell ringing with your order ready.

You never have nights like this. You always try to cook on your own and don’t waste money on eating out, and you also never finish the movie or the series you start, either too tired halfway or with something more important to care about, for example, some notes to copy, or lessons to listen.

But this is nice.

You two joke, laugh, eat, and then you start to feel the sleep take over you, and you don’t think about sending him home or falling asleep on the pillow.

And as you rest your head on his shoulder, Haechan’s more and more sure that his plan failed.

“You’re playing with me, right?” You ask when Haechan messes up for the nth time. The end of the year is approaching, and you two are getting ready for yet another test, the last before the finals, but right now he’s testing your patience not getting a single answer right. You’ve been stuck in his room for hours now.

“I wish I was, my brain is fried,” he huffs, throwing his head back on his chair.

You’re speechless and you shake your head. “It’s super easy, you were better than me in this class, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You snap.

“Hey! Why are you so pissed? Shouldn’t you be happy you’ll beat me even in this?”

“Be serious,” you say, sending him a deadly glare. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m…” he huffs, shaking his head, and turning around in his chair to avoid you. “I’m just stressed for a lot of things. I’m tired, I didn’t sleep tonight.”

“You struggled even last week. And when the Professor asked you something in class you gave an answer that is just not you,” you say, cutting off his bullshit, grabbing the armrest of the chair, and forcing him to face you with a rough tug on the chair.

“There are too many things to remember,” he says, after frowning at how harsh you have been. “It’s not that I don’t know, it’s that I mess it all up.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Do I have to motivate you?”

He lifts his head, staring at you with a furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s play a game,” you say, sitting better on the chair, and Haechan gulps when doing so your skirt —short skirt, incredibly short skirt— rises. He will never tell you, but the way you show up on your dates is another reason why he can’t concentrate. It’s May, it’s so hot. It’s your excuse, but he would bet you’re also doing it to mess up with him.

“No,” he replies, already fearing your proposal.

“Why not? You didn’t hear it, yet.”

He sighs but signals you to go on with a quick movement of his fingers.

“So, we’ll revisit once again, I’ll try to explain all your doubts. Then, I’ll ask you a question, if you get it right, I’ll take off one piece of clothes, if you get it wrong, you’ll take off one, and vice versa.”

“How studying with you butt-naked would make me learn more things?” He almost screams in a high-pitched voice.

“See!” You say. “You’re already starting with the idea you’ll lose.”

“Because I can’t get anything in my brain, and if I get it right then you’ll have to take something off and all I’ll think about will be… you.” I already only think about you, he’d like to add, but that’s too humiliating. Just like the grin on your face. He hates how weak he is. He hates how easy it is for you to win battle after battle. And he hates even more that his plan is showing flaws with each passing day. He doesn’t want you to be his Waterloo, but he’s not sure he can come up with another strategy soon enough to beat you. 

“Fine, then no study-strip-poker,” you give up, but the smug smirk on your face doesn’t drop when you start to think of something else that could motivate him, it only grows bigger when you finally get it. “If you answer right to at least ten of the fifteen questions, I’ll suck your dick.”

Haechan gulps. His eyes immediately fall on your lips as his brain starts to wander on lands he shouldn’t think about, not now at least, not when he has a bigger obstacle to face if he wants to get there.

“Hey,” you call his attention, snapping your fingers and waving them in front of his face. “It has to be motivation, not distraction. Do you want me?”

He huffs, throwing his head back. “Can’t we just fuck and then we’ll start again?” He pouts like he does every time he wants something from you.

“No,” you reply sternly, stealing his sweatshirt from his chair and putting it on you. “You don’t get the prize if you don’t win.”

“That’s not fair. And why are you covering up?”

“So you can’t distract yourself,” you say. You might like to tease him with more revealing clothes, but your intent is never to get him to be this distracted. You don’t want to be the reason he will fail this last test.

“You’re not my distraction,” he scoffs, diverting his gaze, and moving closer to his desk.

You decide to ignore him, you know the truth, and as much as the idea of him starting to lose because he’s too busy thinking of you, sends you on cloud nine, you also don’t want him to do terribly, especially in a class you know he loves and is good at.

“I know the theory,” he says, stopping you from going back to the start. “I wouldn’t be able to produce songs if I didn’t.”

“Yeah, but you just failed to explain how you create and add effects, and you forgot the basic difference between the dry sound and the wet sound, so revisiting some theory won’t hurt.”

Haechan sighs but soon gives up as you hand him your notes. He always thought you were crazy for also having printed pictures of how the software works but now that he needs it, he couldn’t be more grateful that you’re so precise with everything.

You start explaining things once again, cutting short about the most basic notions and diving deeper into the last lessons, as you try to stop as much as you can to make sure he’s still following you. And, after almost an hour, you’re done.

“What are you doing?” He asks when you take off his sweater again. “What about my concentration?”

“I needed your focus while I was explaining, now you have to answer even if you have distractions.”

He huffs loudly, throwing his head back. “But don’t play dirty, you can’t touch yourself or anything like that.”

“I’m not that cruel, I just want you to answer me,” you say. “So, let’s start with an easy one, should we?”

Haechan answers the first questions with ease, not like he usually would, but it’s still better than the mess of before. And he would be so close to getting the last one that keeps him on thin ice, he only got five wrong...

“No, no, no, please,” he begs, trying to stop you in place. “Please, give me one last chance. Ask me just one last question.”

“You got six wrong, babe,” you reply, loving how he’s almost on the verge of tears as his big brown eyes look up at you.

“But it was hard, I will never remember all the types of old reverbs unit,” he whines, coming closer to you.

“Then why do I?”

“Don’t lie, you don’t remember them either, I can’t even pronounce some of those names.”

You chuckle. “Oh, it’s really funny when the lack of a good fuck gets in your brain.” It’s not about sound design anymore. It’s about the desperation behind his eyes; knowing he wants you so much even if you’re the biggest reason for his despair gets your body hot and your pussy wet.

He groans, slumping back on his chair as he gives up on you. Or so he thinks because when he doesn’t pity you enough and you’re still packing your things to leave, he’s back again with his complaint.

“Please, one last chance? I didn’t mess the others up, I just made some tiny mistakes.”

“And you didn’t answer to two,” you say, ignoring him, trying to keep a serious face to not show your true emotions.

“Do I have to get on my knees?”

You snicker. “You look good on your knees,” you taunt but you don’t expect him to do that. “Get up!”

“Not until you give me another chance,” he retorts. “Please.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Fine, but just one.”

He nods enthusiastically, almost looking like a puppy being teased with a treat before he sits up in front of you.

“The differences, all the differences, between the shelving equalizer and the peaking equalizer.”

“Okay, I know this one, I know it,” he says before he starts explaining without missing a single detail. “So?” He asks with eyes full of hope as if he doesn’t know he just gave you a perfect answer.

“It was… great,” you tease him but you can’t keep a straight face when you see the pout on his face. “Kidding, kidding, you answered perfectly. So, I guess you deserve your prize.”

“Yes,” he screams, and in a second he throws himself on you but you shake your head and push him back on his chair. “What?”

“You sit there and let me handle this,” you say, placing your hands on his thighs. “Take them off,” you order, tilting your head to point at his grey pants. You see he’s confused about where you want this to go, but he obeys you anyway. “Everything,” you add when he’s still in his boxers. “Good boy, come here,” you say, patting your lap.

Haechan frowns. “You said you were going to suck me off.”

“I know, and have I ever break my promises?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just trust me and come here,” you order, waiting for him to follow. “Can’t believe you’ve been this hard all this time,” you say, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, starting to pump the pre-cum that leaked.

“You teased me,” he huffs, trying to keep his composure as he watches your hand moving on him delicately.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry,” you pout, one hand sneaking under his big white shirt to tease his nipples.

“Don’t,” he mutters, but you only laugh.

“Don’t, what? Let me take care of you, you’re stressed.”

He doesn’t reply, his head falls back as your movements on his dick quicken. He feels so small in your hold and he should find this more embarrassing but he doesn’t care. He loves the way your hand wanders delicately on his body and your lips leave pecks on his neck while the movements on his dick are fast enough to give him what he wants but not too fast to ruin this moment.

Your hands keep moving while your lips kiss his neck and jaw.

“Feels so good,” Donghyuck hums, shifting in your lap.

“I told you,” you chuckle, watching him roll his head back on your shoulder as his eyes close. “The others will hear you,” you say when his whimpers get louder.

“Don’t care,” he moans. “Feels too good.”

You smile and shrug. If he doesn't care, who are you to worry about it? It’s not like they don’t know what happens between you two.

So you quicken your hand, sliding up and down his sensitive dick so fast you make him tremble in your hold.

“You’re so cute like this, you know?” You say. “You look so small and delicate.” You expect him to get mad but instead, he moans and nods swiftly. And you know that stress got him good. Donghyuck, admitting to be vulnerable in your hands? You can only thank the weight the University is putting on his shoulders. But if that’s a way to make it go away, you can’t complain.

“I’m gonna — gonna come,” he whimpers when you start rubbing your thumb on his tip. “Fuck.”

You trap his scream with your other hand, staring at him as he slumps against you as his orgasm washes over him, squirting white strings of cum on your hand and his crumpled shirt.

“Get on the bed,” you urge while lifting the shirt off his body, leaving him naked. He barely has time to put himself together, but you don’t care and you know he needs more too.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair that you’re still all dressed up?” He asks, still sitting on top of you.

“Do you want me to suck your dick, or do you want me to leave?” Is the only thing you have to say to make him obey with no more complaints. “Good. You should be thankful I gave you another chance. Right now you would be masturbating all alone and have no knowledge of sound design, so… what do we say?”

“What do you want me to say? You didn’t—”

“What do we say?” You shut him up, pulling his hair back harshly as your body weights on his lap, eliciting a broken groan.

“Tha — thank you,” he mumbles, cock throbbing right against your thigh. “Thank you but, please, do something, I’m… I need you.”

You snicker, letting go of his head and crawling back on the bed. “You’re so pathetic,” you mock, grabbing his dick again. “Begging on your knees just because you wanted my mouth.”

Haechan groans, throwing his head back but the harsh slap on his thigh makes him snap his eyes open.

“Why?” He squeaks.

“Eyes on me when I’m talking to you,” you order before lowering down so you can tease his tip with your tongue, making him bite back a loud moan.

“Please,” he pleads, and you finally give in. When you take him in your mouth, the broken breath that rolls from his lips makes your pussy clench around nothing.

“Shit,” he moans, fists clenching in the sheets as you suck harder, moving your head up and down in quick movements. He wants to look at you, knowing it will be even harder to not come on the spot, but he’s fighting with so many parts of him, he doesn’t know what to do.

When you pull away to look at him, he whines, hips bucking up in search of physical contact. You snicker, “and then I am the greedy one?”

“You’ve been teasing since you stepped inside the house,” he whines, trying to grab your hand but you don’t let him. “Come on, I’ve been good.”

It’s true, he has been good, but you don’t want him to come yet. “You can’t come, not yet.”

“Fine, just — just don’t tease me. Please,” he cries, begging you with his eyes.

You start taking care of him seriously; bobbing your head up and down while your hand wraps at his base to touch him where you can’t reach. Your movements are quick, but not too messy, since you’re trying to avoid creating a pool of spit and pre-cum all over his lap.

“Your mouth, fuck,” he groans, involuntarily fucking into your throat and uttering a slurred apology. “You’re just so good. God,” he curses, and you catch him rolling his eyes. “Even at — even at this you’re good.”

You snicker to yourself and keep focusing on his dick, heavy on your tongue as you suck with force.

You might be too good, cause it doesn’t take a lot for him to explode in your mouth; a brief warning for you to choose if you want to pull away and then the pleasure runs through his body for the second time.

You barely have time to clean your chin from the cum that dripped down that Haechan pulls you close to him, kissing you intensely while his hands are all over your body. “Want you, please, please fuck me,” he begs against your lips.

You slip out of your panties, quickly grabbing the base of his cock to line it with your soaked entrance because you can’t wait anymore.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet,” he hums when you sink, wrapping your hands around his shoulders.

“Want to take merits for this, too?”

“Well, yes,” he retorts. “Shit, don’t move, it’s not fair.”

“Everything is fair between us,” you say, starting to pick up a rhythm that makes him struggle to come up with a snarky reply. “Loss of words?”

He groans, throwing his head back and tightening the hold around your waist. “You can —mmph— you can talk all you want but —ugh— I am the reason why you’re soaked.” Somehow the way you’re bouncing on his dick it’s not enough to wipe away that smug smirk off his face, and you can’t stand it.

“Just shut the fuck up and enjoy this, will you?” You snap before kissing him roughly, cupping his chin with force before nibbling his lower lip, making him hiss. “I like it when you moan, so please, just fucking moan. The only words I want to hear are my name and begs.”

Your “threat” is effective because he doesn’t dare to open his mouth again.

“Good boy,” you praise without ever stopping to kiss him and moving your hips at a quick but regular speed.

You quickly realize that stress has gotten to you, too. You love to pretend it doesn’t affect you, and that you don’t need to let off steam, but you do. You are desperate to feel carefree for a few moments, put all the books and papers behind and have fun. And worst, you need him.

Donghyuck is what makes you feel good. It doesn’t matter if it’s mostly physical, he takes you to another world every time. He makes you feel wanted, he puts you through the test, but he makes everything worth it.

You’re so sure of it as you let your body crush against his, your fleshes meeting in a messed-up tangle of flaws. The kinds of flaws you both grew close enough to show each other.

In a few minutes, waves of pleasure hit you both and your bodies collapse into each other as you keep lazily riding that sensation; muscles on fire, lips meeting in messy kisses, moans panting the room, and your hands looking for each other.

When you lay on the bed side by side, you feel disconnected, and, truly, the only thing you’d like to do is to close your eyes and fall asleep, but your eyes fall on the clock against the wall and remind you why you went to his place.

“Five minutes and then we’re revisiting again,” you say, knowing the only way to get up is to say that thought out loud.  

Donghyuck groans, pressing his face against you and mumbling, “can I eat you out if I make no mistakes this time?”

“We’ll see.”

You’re woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of the piano playing from the living room. The other side of the bed is empty, and the sheets are crumpled up, signalling you Haechan got up somewhere during the night.

You two went on a trip the whole weekend. Not like you had a choice when he passed by your place and told you to get in the car without giving you any information. You got mad at him when he told you it wasn’t a one-day thing, but you were too far from town to even think of going back. And even if initially you were angry because your plans for the weekend were different —studying all day for three days— your anger disappeared quickly.

This is the second night out; you spent the entire day wandering around a town you didn’t even know before and got closer to each other. You love the thrill with him, but you soon realize you also love it when there’s peace between you. It’s impossible for you to don’t bicker, but you learned how to balance everything. And the more you get to know him, the more you like him.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask, watching his features being lit up by the faint moonlight and a small lamp at the side of the piano. It’s an old one, almost left abandoned in the living room of the small, cheap house you’re staying in for the night.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Got a tune I couldn’t get off my mind so… here we are.”

You smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit next to him. You don’t talk, you only watch his fingers move on the notes looking like ballet dancers. You’ve never seen him play the piano before, you weren’t even sure he could. But you’re amazed at how many things he’s talented at, the guitar, the piano, production, singing, dancing —and making your days less grey.

You don’t tell him, you only lean in, resting your head on his shoulder as he keeps playing the sweet melody.

“It’s…” he huffs, stopping for a second. “Doesn’t it sound messy?”

“Not at all,” you reply. “It sounds upbeat. Happy.”

“Out of all the ways you can describe music,” he chuckles, looking at you.

You look up, shrugging. “I’m describing how it’s making me feel.”

“Yeah? And what does it feel like?”

“Play it again,” you say, closing your eyes and letting the tune lull you. “It feels like spring. Like a field full of sunflowers, the ones you see at the side of the highway, passing by so fast before you can even get lost in their beauty.”

Haechan chuckles, holding back the big smile on his face. “It reminds me of those late summer evenings, when the heat dims a bit and the sky is pale pink and purple and blue, and time is frozen.”

“Yeah, when you’re ten and you don’t want summer to end because it means you have to go back to school,” you smile. “When you would stay out all day and come home with the smell of your favourite cake that your mom just baked.”

“Really? Your mom would bake that too?”

You nod. “Chocolate cake, basic and too messy for the heat of summer. But my mom loves me too much to don’t bake it for me, even if it’s 30° outside.”

Haechan chuckles, and his fingers start moving faster, starting the melody of what could be the chorus of the tune.

“In this part, it feels like a wave. I’m picturing running on the beach as the waves crash at your feet and the wind blows against your face.”

“Why are you smiling?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I — I can… it feels oddly romantic, a bit tormented, maybe confused, but in love,” you whisper. He gives you a weird look, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re not using technical words to describe it or because you’re just weird. But there’s a reason you’re not being technical, you’re saying what it makes you feel, the vivid pictures in your mind. And, somehow, there’s you and him.

You two on the beach, walking on the sand before he starts running, teasing you to follow him. There’s the scent of the sea filling your nostrils and your lungs burning up as you reach him and then fall in his arms and feel your heart explode.

“It’s an unexpected feeling, something that wasn’t supposed to happen and then… changed everything. It’s thrilling. Scary, but satisfying.” You avoid his gaze but hear him hum in agreement, and wonder if he’s thinking the same, if he can feel this tension.

“So, something that sweeps everything like a wave,” he asks, and you nod. “Sunset,” he adds, smiling at you, slowing down the rhythm of his fingers. “I can also see the sunset colouring the scene. The kind that makes you look up and stare in awe like a child.”

“The one we saw yesterday,” you reply shyly. “It made your eyes look even more brown,” you confess, watching his cheeks tint up of rose.

“The kind that leaves you breathless,” he whispers. His fingers are still moving but they’re playing the same notes, he’s too busy staring into your eyes, leaning closer to you.

“And speechless.”

And a bit closer.

“And grateful you’re on earth.”

And closer.

You move back, coughing and lowering your head because you feel on fire. Is he making fun of you? Does he feel this? Why is he so confusing?

“It feels like a road trip with nowhere to go,” you say to fill the silence, and your words make him play again. “The calm while everything outside is falling apart.”

“Like running to your safe place?”

You nod. “It feels like… home.”

He smiles, looking in your direction while his fingers still play that sweet melody. “I always believed home is a person, even people, but not a place.”

You swallow, staring at his lips before your eyes meet his. “I’ve forgotten that feeling quite some time ago,” you whisper, feeling your head spin. You left home and never looked back, eager to chase your dreams, the ones you’ve been fighting hard to achieve since you were a child, but in that marathon to success, you’re starting to realize you lost something.

“You just need to find the right people, and then never let go.” He leans closer to you, hands falling from the piano as he leans in completely to trap your lips in a kiss. His hand cups your face while the other moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and moving his thumb in small circles. You feel like your lungs are on fire, and your legs are weak, but your heart never pumped harder than this. And when he slowly pulls away, you’re staring into each other’s eyes.

You know all the words to your song.

It’s true you’ve tried to avoid Donghyuck’s group of friends as much as you can —mostly to preserve your brain from early injuries— but it’s also true that the end of the second academic year is tearing you apart and you need to do something to don’t go insane.

So here you are, it’s Friday night, at their place, and you’re surrounded. Haechan has left you alone for a moment, busy talking with Mark. Jeno is trying to set up the table in the living room, while Renjun runs after him because ‘things are not perfect enough.’ Yangyang —no, he doesn’t live with them, but for some reason, he is always around— is in the kitchen doing only God knows what.

For your luck, you have Jaemin and the girls by your side. Ningning, who apparently has something going on with Mr Loverboy at your side. Yeri, who is there just to bully Haechan, Mark and Yangyang  —an old tradition that goes on since high school, and you love her for that. And Minjeong, who’s the nicest and yet smartest person you know, you are relieved she is in creative writing with Jaemin. You met them all before, one of the thousand times Donghyuck dragged you around with him, and the four of you got along right away, quickly becoming friends.

“They’re so loud, I would have a constant headache living here,” Yeri huffs loudly, rolling her eyes and falling backwards in Ningning’s arms.

You raise a brow as a ‘told you’ moment.

“They’re not that bad usually,” Jaemin defends, looking at his friends, now all too interested in something that regards what they are supposed to eat.

“Pfft, please, Jaem,” you say, glaring at him.

“How would you know?” He says. “Oh, no, yes, actually you would, you’re always here.”

“See, so stop defending them,” you say before becoming aware of the three sets of eyes boring holes into you. You turn around meeting your three friends and lift a brow in a questing look.

“Why would you always be here?” Ningning teases, nudging you.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t wander too far with your brains. I’ve got a project with Hyuck.”

“Hyuck? You used to go around calling him by his stage name just a few months ago and now it’s Hyuck?” Yeri points out, smirking smugly.

You throw a pillow at her. “He’s always attached to my hip, of course, we got closer,” you explain, frowning.

“Sure, sure,” she laughs. “Not even the boys call him Hyuck.”

“They do,” you retort.

“Of course you know, you’re always here,” Minjeong giggles and you gasp.

“You traitor!” You say, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her as you both laugh.

“Move your asses over here, motherfuc—” Yangyang screams before Renjun slaps a hand on his face.

“I will kill you all one day,” Renjun says, storming into the kitchen to bring more drinks as you sit down around the table.

“Please leave us out of it,” Yeri screams loud enough so he can hear.

“Sure, you can even help me get it done if you want to,” he says, sitting between Jeno and Yangyang, handing the bottles around.

“I’m in,” the four of you say simultaneously, raising your hands and they all gasp as they glare at you.

“Guess we better sleep with our eyes open tonight,” Yangyang mutters.

“You should always sleep with one eye open,” Yeri threatens, smiling creepily.

You chuckle at their antics, but your attention is caught by Donghyuck who sits by your side. “Would you kill me?”

You smile, caressing his hand on his thigh. “Honey, what are you saying? You would be the first that has to go.”

The smile on his face drops and you laugh, turning to the table to grab something to eat.

“You know,” he whispers, leaning in so only you can hear, “no dick tonight.”

You lower your head, trying to hide the embarrassment, but then lift it up and shake it, fixing your hair behind your ear, and turning to him. “Not like something could’ve happened tonight anyway.”

“Period?”

“People,” you say and he chuckles, opening a can of beer before taking a sip.

“As if that ever stopped you.”

You roll your eyes, stealing the beer from his hand, “as if that ever stopped you.”

He smiles, resting his head on his palm as he looks at you. “You never said no, though.”

You wave him off, returning your attention to the table, but it doesn’t last much, they’re deep in a heated conversation and you’re missing something. “Why are they bickering… again?”

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, grabbing a spring roll, dipping it in the soy sauce before taking a bite. You roll your eyes because you need to be updated right away but when you look at him munching happily you can’t hold back a smile.

“So,” he says, cleaning his lips after he swallowed, “Jeno wants Renjun for a project, but Renjun has war traumas of the last time they did a shooting together and doesn’t want to.”

You giggle, grabbing a spring roll too, and dipping it in the same small cup of Donghyuck, while you both pay attention to the conversation.

“But you’re perfect for it,” Jeno insists, shaking Renjun from his shoulders, not caring about the pissed-off expression of the older.

“I’m literally not, ask anybody else but me,” Renjun repeats, a deep crease visible on his forehead.

“But you look like an angel,” Jeno pouts, finally stopping his movements and batting his lashes to gain some pity.

“I might look like an angel, but I feel Satan rising in me every time you talk,” he says, making everybody laugh before he glances, and the room goes quiet.

“Come on, how bad can it be?” Minjeong says, and you see her shift closer to Mark, but you don’t say anything.

Renjun groans, throwing his head back. He can’t believe he might be convinced into this by the end of the night. “He’s too much of a perfectionist, and I’m not comfortable in front of the camera. Also, he’s not rich enough to have a studio and he always takes ages to put the light boxes in their place once he’s done.”

“Oh, I won’t annoy you, I promise,” Jeno begs again.

“We can rent a studio,” you say, all eyes on you. “I mean,” you cough, placing the small bite of the roll left on the plate in front of you, “me and Hyu— Donghyuck have to shoot the cover for the songwriting project, I don’t think we can wait any longer since we also have to record the song and then come up with an advertising strategy.”

“Then rent a studio?” Renjun says, coming out colder than he intends to. “No, wait, I just don’t get why you have to drag me in this.”

“Jeno proposed to be our photographer, but I doubt we can do it at home. And since we wouldn’t be paying for his job. Sorry,” you mouth quickly glancing at Jeno who shrugs and smiles at you. “We can at least put the money for the studio.”

“And where do I fit in this,” he cries, shoulders slumping as he knows there’s no way out of this, no matter what you say next.

“Well, since you pay the studio per hour, I don’t think Jeno will torture you much. He takes two hours with you and two hours with us and in a day, we are done. Also, if there are four of us, we can be quicker,” you finish explaining, hearing some hums of agreement from your other friends.

Jeno doesn’t say a word, he’s only smiling widely with his face close to Renjun’s as the latter regrets all the life choices that brought him here. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he exhales, groaning when Jeno hugs him and screams a cheer in his ear. “Step away before I change my mind,” he warns, slapping Jeno’s arm and glaring at him when he does as told.

Yeri sighs deeply at your side, rolling her eyes and muttering, “children.”

You chuckle, finishing your roll, and stealing Donghyuck’s beer again before talking to him. “So, I guess we’re almost done.”

“Almost done? You still didn’t show me the lyrics, have you even written them?”

“Hey,” you scold. “Are you doubting me?”

“I don’t know, last time I checked, you were the one struggling. I offered you four bases, and all the words I’ve read from you ended up crumpled in the bin.”

You sigh. “I’ve got the song,” you reassure him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I also picked the production. I mean, I… I wrote it because of that production.”

Haechan’s smirk widens when you start stuttering and looking away, trying to look unsuspicious in your friends’ eyes. “Really? And why are you shying away?”

You almost jump when you feel his hand on your thigh, resting on your bare skin under the skirt. “I’m not,” you whisper, trying to keep cool.

He snickers. “You know I’ll have to see it and you can’t keep it a secret from me, right?”

“I know, I don’t want it to be a secret. You’ll read it.”

He squeezes your thigh, and you glare at him. “Not now.”

“Right, later, under the cover when we’ll watch a movie,” he jokes.

Yeri coughs beside you and you see your entire life pass in front of your eyes, but you fake nonchalance and turn to her. “Need something? Some water?”

“Some tea, honey, some tea,” she says, raising a brow and pointing at the man at your side, now busy talking with Yangyang.

“I can make some.”

“Stop playing me,” she whispers, sending you a deadly glare. She can be scary at times, you’re not surprised the boys listen to her in the blink of an eye.

“He’s just being stupid, he flirts even with walls,” you say.

“Does he touch their thighs?”

“No, he’s not,” you say, only to gasp when she looks down and his hand is still on you. You push it away but he puts it right where it was and you can only sigh.

Yeri snickers. “Ah, l’amour.”

Your head rolls back as you let out an annoyed sigh. “Love my ass.”

Yeri shrugs, sipping from her small bottle of soju. “Don’t care, there’s still something going on, and I’m interested.”

“I’d love to mock you with somebody but you’re more closed than an unopened can of beans.”

“You are so bad with words. How do you write songs?”

“I don’t write about beans, clearly,” you say seriously before you both laugh.

“You two, mind to share what’s funny with the class?” Ningning calls you out.

“Sorry Professor Ning, we’ll be even more annoying next time,” Yeri retorts.

“Why do I feel you’re quoting something we can’t understand?” Renjun says.

“Because you’re right,” Yeri replies.

“Yesterday Yeri almost got us expelled,” Ningning says with a forced smile on her face, making you all gasp.

“What happened to sharing information?” Mark screams, leaning in with interest.

“Why do you care so much?” Yeri shrugs, grabbing a bowl of tteokbokki to eat.

“Mh, hello? You got your asses out of Uni,” Minjeong says.

Yeri only rolls her eyes, resting her head on Ningning. “If a tteokbokki falls on my clothes you’re dead,” the blonde-haired warns before bringing her gaze to all of you. “In her defense, it wasn’t her fault. Not at the start, at least.”

“No,” Yeri retorts, sitting up straight again, and placing the bowl on the table, “it wasn’t my fault, period.”

“Here she goes again,” Ningning sighs, puffing and shaking her head, making you chuckle. But Yeri is not paying her attention, too busy telling the facts right.

“Professor Choi hates us and treats us like kids. Not only his lessons are boring, and I would like to add, useless, but he also thinks we’re in kindergarten.”

“Did you fight with him?” Jeno questions, frowning, already fearing a positive answer.

Yeri gulps, looking around to take time to answer.

“Oh, God, tell me you didn’t,” you say, staring at her with a worried expression.

“He asked for blood,” she says, getting fired up.

“You fought a Professor?” Jaemin gasps loudly.

“She didn’t,” Ningning intervenes when Yeri is about to open her mouth again. “Just because I was there to babysit her, but she didn’t.”

“I didn’t come here to be treated like a child,” she says, crossing her arms on her chest. “We weren’t even being loud. We were sitting in the back of the class, minding our business and he called us out. There was a group of boys in the middle row watching fucking porn and he called us out.”

“Ew,” it comes out collectively.

“But unless the headphones weren’t connected how would he know?” Yangyang asks.

“I don’t care! He hates us,” she groans.

“So you decided to make him hate you even more? Smart move, Yerim, smart move,” Renjun says sarcastically, and she glares at him.

“I just decided to drag her out when things got a bit heated,” Ningning says.

“Not in a Beyonce way I guess,” Haechan jokes, and Yeri slaps him as you move back to give her space to hit him.

“Hey! Why are you helping her bully me?” He asks offended.

“Cause you deserve it?” You shrug.

Donghyuck looks around in disbelief, groaning when everybody agrees. “Fake ass friends, can’t even trust your own shadow in this group.”

“Back to what matters, safe to say you won’t pass the class,” Renjun says.

“We will, there’s only one lesson left, and we’ll pay attention,” Ningning says and Yeri raises her brows. “We will pay attention. He might hate us, but, you know, a bit of boot-licking and we’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Yeri gives up. “But only because I don’t want to see him ever again.”

“We once fought so hard we got kicked out,” Haechan confesses, bringing the attention to him.

“You and?” Jeno asks.

“Dumbass, Miss Better than him, thought you heard them bicker every two seconds,” Renjun replies instead, pointing at you with his index finger.

“Hey!” You say. “I mean, thank you for acknowledging I’m better than him but it wasn’t so bad.”

“Oh, trust me, it was,” Mark comments before drinking his beer.

“And you were teaching us a lesson, uh?” Yeri teases, eyebrow raised at you two.

“We didn’t insult the Professor,” you explain. “We were just at each other’s throat.”

“Why?” Minjeong asks.

“Honestly? Can’t remember, we fight about everything,” Donghyuck replies.

“We don’t fight,” you clarify. “We discuss. And sometimes things take a bad turn. Not anymore, we learned how to survive with each other.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” giggles Yeri and you kick her knee with yours, making her groan.

Haechan sends you a look you ignore, and you go on explaining. “We were just stating our thoughts, but we weren’t exactly agreeing, and we couldn’t stop, so the Professor told us to take it somewhere else.”

“And you did? You simply could’ve stopped,” Renjun asks in disbelief. He can’t believe he thought you were normal.

“We had business to settle, okay?” You explain.

“Oh, and we sure did,” Haechan chuckles under his breath or so he thinks because the room goes quiet, and you think you want to strangle him.

You have to come up with something.

“You only won because I gave up,” you say, looking into his eyes, seeing the devilish glint behind, warning him to not say a word more.

“You always give up if there’s a prize you can take,” he clicks his tongue and you gulp.

“Oookay, weird tension in the room, it’s clear the only one not getting laid is me,” Yangyang cheers, bringing you two out of your competitive stare. You’d like to complain, saying it’s not what he thinks about, but you’re still stuck, brain busy thinking about something else.

“This night it’s boring, if we don’t do something funny, I’ll act out my plan of killing you all,” Renjun says, standing up.

“I still don’t know whether you’re joking or not,” Mark says.

“Because I’m not.”

“Caught you!”

“Hyuck!” You scream, turning around, holding a hand over your chest as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulders. “You could’ve killed me.”

“You’re eating cake without me, that’s the crime,” he says, pulling your hand to his face to take a bite.

You roll your eyes. “Jaemin told me he had to store it away because Jeno and Minjeong were eating it all.”

“So, you were hiding, uhm?”

You hum, cutting another piece and diving it in two to give it to him. “He said I could eat it. Also, I think I had too much alcohol and I need to put something in my stomach.” You sit on the countertop and he takes his place between your legs.

“Am I allowed to eat it?”

“I guess so, I’ll take the blame if he says something,” you giggle.

“Don’t think he will notice, too busy dancing with somebody,” he says, hinting at Ningning.  

“They look cute together,” you say, smiling fondly.

“Oh, they do. If only he could grow some balls and confess,” he says.

“Do you confess, Casanova?” You tease.

Donghyuck smirks. “How does it look like?”

You shrug. “Don’t know, you tell me.”

He rolls his eyes before he realizes you two are not together. “Wait, are we… no, never mind,” he says, pulling away, and turning to the door.

You grab his hand, stopping him. “What?”

“Jeno called,” he lies, trying to escape your hold.

“No, he didn’t. He’s sitting with Yangyang passing the blunt around,” you jump off the top and face him. “Are we?” You’re not sure what you expect him to say.

Donghyuck gulps, struggling to keep his eyes on you. “Are you fucking somebody else?”

Whatever you were expecting, that wasn’t it. “Are you?”

“I asked you first,” he retorts.

You blink. “Oh, really?

“Yeah, really.”

“Do I look like I know somebody else besides us?”

“Jeno likes you, and he told me you two are texting.”

“As friends, Hyuck. I already told him I’m taken — I’m not, I’m… I’m taken by other things in my mind. Uni, fighting you, especially fighting you.”

Donghyuck snickers, not really what he expected from you, but deep down —not even so deep, truly— what he wanted to hear. “Yeah, I agree, you’re taken, mostly by me.”

You’re about to retort but he slips from your hands too soon, leaving the small kitchen to reach the others. But you’re smiling. It’s a dumb, small smile that lights up your face in the dark of the night, and your heart pumps. You two didn’t name any of this, but —bickering aside— you objectively know you acted like a couple. It’s not about the sex, it’s about everything else. He started to pick you up before lessons so you could go to class together and sit next to each other —while he did everything he could to distract you. You ate at your friends’ table at lunch, went out for dates, and occasionally even slept over. You are taken and probably for longer than you even realise. Donghyuck started filling your days months ago, and even your life.

You’re still caught up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Ningning enter the kitchen.

“I spy with my little eyes something suspicious,” she sings while pouring herself a glass of water, leaning against the countertop where you were before.

“First Yeri, and now you?” You ask, a small smile curling your lips while you walk to lean next to her.

Ningning gasps offended. “She knew before me? Is this how you betray me? After I helped you style your hair?”

You laugh, resting your head on her shoulder, and inhaling deeply; she always smells nice. “I didn’t tell her,” you confess. “Honestly, I don’t even know myself.”

You can’t see her, but you know she’s smiling when her arms wrap around your body.

“So, what is that, love?”

You hum. “I don’t know what it is, but I know I like it.”

“I knew you were a romantic at heart,” she jokes, pulling away to squeeze your cheeks.

“I’m just happy. I don’t think I need to put a name on this… on this happiness.”

A big smile spreads on her face and her eyes crinkle, her hand softly caresses your cheeks. “It’s not only Donghyuck, is it?”

You nod, pressing your lips in a flat line because something about this feels too emotional for you. It’s 11 pm and there’s faint music playing in the living room while people laugh, and joke, sharing a blunt or bottles of alcohol. And you’re in the kitchen talking about a boy you want to kiss and strangle with who, you’re sure, can now consider your best friend. It’s the stupid fun of the early 20s. It’s the sense of something you’ve been missing for too long since you only let yourself be absorbed by your studies, leaving friendship behind.

And when a lonely tear rolls down your eyes, Ningning coos, gently wiping it away. “I’m happy,” you say, nodding.

“I know,” she replies, cupping your face.

“I’ve been on my own since I came here and I never regretted believing in my dreams even if it meant leaving the ones I loved the most behind, but now I realize what I’ve been missing,” you confess. “I love that they’re so loud they give me a headache.” You both chuckle and your hands intertwine. “And I love that we all sit together at lunch even if most of you have to run from the other side of the building. I love how none of you hesitated one moment to consider me part of your group.”

“I’m so happy you’re with us,” she says, smiling. “I guess Donghyuck does something right sometimes.”

You both laugh.

“Yeah, he definitely made my second year less boring than the first one,” you admit.

“Come here, I guess we both could use a hug,” she says, not giving you time to reply before you’re into her arms. You stay like this for a while, and you know more than before that this is what you missed the most. This is what college means. It isn’t in the loud parties, the sex, and the drugs, it’s in the people you do things with. Nine young people like you, trying to survive this craziness by being each other’s strength. You can still look at your goal right in the eye even if you have fun, even if you date, even if you have someone to walk down this road with.

“You know, I knew you were a good one when you slammed your fist on the table at lunch when he made you fuck up the essay,” Ningning confesses when you pull away.

You laugh, wiping away another tear. “I’m glad he did, I wouldn’t be here today if he didn’t.”

“You and Ning disappeared in the kitchen before,” Donghyuck says, searching in his closet to find something to make you wear for the night.

“Yeah, we talked about us. I know I might not show it, but I’m glad I found this,” you sigh. “I like them.”

Donghyuck smiles, sitting next to you. “They all like you just as much.”

“It’s like I finally have a place where I belong. I have people to rely on, so maybe I’ll learn to stop wanting to deal with everything by myself.”

“I told you life doesn’t have to be lonely,” he says. “I know that coming from me sounded like sabotage but I meant it. Having someone by your side makes everything easier.”

You smile and nod, grabbing the shirt he’s handing you. “I hate to say it, but you were right,” you chuckle. He doesn’t reply and you don’t drag the conversation, simply enjoying the thousands of words you two should be telling each other, but are not ready to face, yet.

“Can I use the bathroom? I need to freshen up a bit,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Most of the others are crushed in the living room, you think you saw Ningning sneak into Jaemin’s room but you were too caught up in Donghyuck to be sure of that, Renjun and Jeno might still be awake but you’re sure that all the weed they smoked won’t make them pay attention to you.

“Sure, if you need towels they’re in the cabinet under the sink,” he tells you, and soon you’re out of the room.

It doesn’t take you long to clean yourself up; you wash your face and steal someone’s products to get rid of your make-up, quickly get rid of your dress, put on some perfume —you’re pretty sure it’s Donghyuck’s cause you smell like him— and then wear the shirt he borrowed.

Once you’re done, you quickly make your way to the kitchen, and, passing in the living room, you see your assumptions are right; there’s no sight of the two love birds, and the only ones awake are Renjun, Jeno and Yeri, while the others are crushed on the sofa. You expect a remark from the girl, but she barely notices you, too busy playing —trying to— something with the other two.

After a few minutes, you’re back in Donghyuck’s room, and you notice he’s changed into something comfortable, too. He’s lost folding his clothes, and you let yourself get lost in his beauty. Too busy fighting him and trying to prove something, you realize you never noticed the smallest details that make him so handsome. The bridge of his nose, his soft lips, the moles on his cheek, his soft brown hair falling around his face.

“You alright?” His voice brings you out of your daydreams and you nod shyly, feeling embarrassed for being caught staring.

“Yeah, everything fine,” you reply, quickly walking to the bed. You see him staring at you with a confused expression, but avoid any awkward moment by reaching for your phone and pretending to be busy. But you’re not busy, you’re confused. You’re not used to this, any of this. Your nights have always been filled with yourself and books (whether for school or your entertainment), and if you felt wilder a movie, rare were the occasions when you would go out with your friends. And regret is creeping on your back. You feel like you lost a lot, you feel like you’ve punished yourself to get where you are now. And you think about love, how you treated your relationships, how little weight you gave them. And when you think about what you felt in these past months you wonder if you have ever even been in love.

“Remind me to never make you drink again if you get this sulky.” Once again, Donghyuck’s voice brings you back to earth, and when you turn toward that sound, you see he’s sitting next to you.

“I’m not sulky,” you chuckle. “I was just thinking about what I said before.”

He hums. “And?”

You shrug. “Nothing. You can’t change the past, I was just… having some bittersweet emotions.” It’s the truth, but you know that deep down your brain is trying to make you focus on the friendships because you don’t want to think about your biggest problem: the man you have by your side. This wasn’t supposed to be whatever it is. It wasn’t supposed to happen. And you don’t hate that it did, but you don’t know how to feel and act about it, cause you didn’t plan it. You couldn’t study this, you couldn’t put this on a PowerPoint and have it all laid out for you to understand it, it’s not logical, it’s not a theory, a study, a thesis, it’s emotion.

“You seemed happy before,” he whispers after a few minutes of silence passed. His hand gently rests on your stomach and you feel your heart race.

“I was,” you reply. “I am. I just wish I found this sooner, I always focused on my studies and career, and looking back at it now, it was lonely. And…” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “I’m jealous of you, ‘cause you managed to be at the top with all of this.”

He chuckles, but it’s a tender sound, and then smiles at you. “Well… I managed until you came around. You…” he coughs, struggling to confess, “you distracted me a bit, so I think you’re better than me at this socializing and rocking your career at the same time thing.”

You laugh. “I distracted you?”

“Just a bit, don’t get too excited,” he warns, falling deeper into the mattress and laying in silence. You have your thoughts tormenting you, but for him, it’s no different. He knows his plan failed. You’ve been filling his thoughts, days and seconds for a few months now. Even when he was studying or recording, somehow, you were always there. At first, for spite, surely, but then, it turned into something else. Hate turned into teasing, teasing turned into lust, and lust turned into something more. He knows he doesn’t just simply want you or need you. He craves you and your company, your study sessions together, your smart talks, your witty words, your annoyed eye-roll when he’s right, and the soft eyes when you listen to him. He craves you and your laugh, the suppressed one during lessons and the loud one when you are alone, or your hidden smirk when he makes you smile even if you don’t want to.

He constantly comes back to you.

“Are you listening or are you avoiding me?” You ask when he doesn’t reply to your question and he shakes his head, mumbling an apology.

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

You chuckle. “It’s alright, it was a bitter question anyway.”

“No come on, ask me again.”

“It was just for fun. I wanted to know if I was the reason why you’ve been doing a bit worst than me lately,” you say. There’s no mockery in your tone, instead it’s light and hides a timid blush as the words roll down your tongue.

Donghyuck’s body shuffles next to yours and only then you realize how intimately close you are, with your legs almost intertwined, his hand still on your stomach and his face resting on your chest. “Well, yes, you were an unexpected presence in my life, so…”

“So…?” You laugh. “Am I so hot I got you horny all the time?” You joke but he doesn’t crack a smile, instead he furrows and stands up to sit on the bed with his arms crossed.

“I’m not that horny,” he murmurs.

Your body mirrors his, and then your hands lift his chin up. “Sorry, I was kidding. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t think you thought about me that much. I wanted to be on top but not like this.”

“Technically, you’re not on top of everything, but anyway, we just spent a lot of time together, you know? So different studying methods and so on, shocked me a bit.”

You raise a brow, not because you’re so pretentious to think you distracted him that much, but because you think you learned to read him a bit and he’s not being honest at all. “Sure, and you weren’t busy thinking of me after our… dates? Coming home and texting me, and telling me how you should’ve been between my thighs instead?”

He blushes, and you can’t believe your eyes. “It only happened once, and either way I never study at night, my pretty brain can’t handle it.”

You laugh. “Your brain is pretty, now?”

“Yeah, of course, everything about me is pretty.” He shrugs.

“You’re a bit of a liar, you know? First telling me I distracted you and then taking it back, but it’s alright, I think we settled this war. We’re equal now, right?”

“I guess you could say that.”

You huff rolling your eyes. “You’re so competitive, God.” You fall on the mattress again. “But maybe it’s good, we can keep this healthy and competitive.”

He hums, thinking about it and then nods. But you don’t expect him to cage you with his body as he sits on top of you and reduces the distance between you. “Doesn’t sound bad, we could try.”

You smile, trying to act nonchalantly, but it’s hard when he’s so close; hair a mess, face tired but still so fucking handsome, and plump lips so temptingly close to yours.

“I want you,” you whisper, looking straight into his eyes even if they make your knees buckle.

“I want you, too,” he replies before diving in and kissing you.

The last weeks before finals are hectic. You and Donghyuck spend all the time studying together. When you’re not locked in the library you’re either at your or his place, and most of the time you end up sleeping over with the excuse of “spending just a few minutes together without thinking about exams.”

Yet, none of you confess anything. Your relationship lingers in that limbo.

In all that chaos, what takes you more time is the songwriting project. You spend days in the studio to record and mix it. Then when you are done, you move to the studio with Jeno to shoot the concept photos. And it would been enough for the exam, but you and Donghyuck just have to go an extra mile, making an entire booklet with the photos and the lyrics inside, the physical CD with the track, the instrumental, and an acapella version.

Even if the shooting is long and tiring, since you have to style and do each other’s make-up, and the only help is from Renjun, you have a lot of fun.

If at the start you feel a bit insecure with the poses, Donghyuck is the perfect partner to have to feel at ease. And Jeno knows how to do his job, making you feel like a queen after the first awkward shots.

“I love how the photos turned out,” Jeno cheers happily on your way to their place. “The three of you are the perfect models. I will annoy you again to build my portfolio.”

Renjun rolls his eyes as his head slams against the bus window.

You chuckle. “Come on, Jun,” you say, pinching his cheek. “You had fun too, you can’t deny that. Also, you got so many beautiful photos for free, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Free? I’d like to remind you I helped you pay for the rent,” he retorts, sitting straight again. “But yeah, I had fun,” he admits, making Jeno clap happily. “But, I will do this again only if she comes with us.”

Jeno bats his eyes at you and you snicker. “Yes, if I am what he needs to be dragged into the studio, I will come with you.”

“I love you,” Jeno screams, hugging you tight. When you hug him back, you make eye contact with Donghyuck, but he swiftly turns his head. Not quick enough to hide he’s not enjoying this so much; jaw tense, fingers closing in a fist.

You find his jealousy of Jeno quite interesting. Even if it’s true you got very close to him, it’s hilarious how Donghyuck thinks anything would happen between you two when Jeno is clearly taken by someone else; someone too busy plotting his murder to realize his feelings, but that’s another matter.

And Donghyuck shows his jealousy even more when, once at home, you sit around the table to watch Jeno post-produce the photos and create the mock-up for the entire project with your supervision.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as he keeps his leg pressed against yours, and you have to hold back a chuckle. Yes, it’s obvious there’s nothing between you and Jeno, but this makes you feel wanted, and you let him show it.

You know you’ll have to deal with other menaces tomorrow; a hangout is already scheduled in the group chat with the girls after a quick text sent right away by Yeri. You love her, you do, but without that, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have four other pairs of eyes set on you — Jaemin and Yangyang are very curious when they want to.

“Are you listening?” Jeno’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You blink twice and then mumble, “what?”

He shakes his head. “Do you like the font?”

“Oh,” you whisper. Your eyes adjust again on the screen that you were mindlessly staring at and focus on the project. “Yeah, I love it.”

“We were thinking of not putting our name on it since it’s more trendy lately,” Donghyuck says.

You nod. “Yeah, I think it’s better like this. I also love the picture, I think it would be more powerful without the name on it but we’re not that famous, yet,” you joke making them laugh.

“That’s why I didn’t make it too big, so the focus would be on you two.”

“Love it, that's perfect,” you praise. “Honestly, seeing it all almost done, I feel guilty for not giving you anything.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s alright. I’m having fun doing this and can put it in my portfolio anyway. I did much worse and less fun for some courses.”

“We will offer you a dinner,” Donghyuck says. “Somewhere cheap, though.”

After a few hours, everything is almost done. Jeno still wants to double-check everything tomorrow before sending it to be printed but the final results won’t differ much.

“So, I think we should celebrate the project that brought you two so close,” Ningning says, winking at the last words, before raising an empty cup.

You chuckle, trying to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but it’s still firm on you. “It’s just a Uni project, there's nothing to celebrate.”

“Well, mine and Mark’s is not that good,” Yangyang snorts. “I don’t understand why you two always want to do so much extra work but whatever makes you happy.”

“We love the song,” Donghyuck replies. “And we’re proud of it so we might as well fool ourselves it might get more than 30 listens on SoundCloud.”

“For me,” Ningning says, “this is huge. One day you’ll be famous and we will get to say we were here from the start, so we need to treat ourselves and party.”

“Yes, let’s treat ourselves to the cheapest pizza on the block. Oh, how I love being an adult,” Yeri huffs, slumping on the couch. “No, but really, this is something to celebrate.” She then moves closer to you so that only you can hear. “And maybe if we get you drunk enough we’ll get juicy info before tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Fine, order these pizzas and let’s celebrate.”

The girls don’t get you drunk enough to spill anything but get themselves drunk enough that Jaemin has to drive them back to their place. Truthfully there’s nothing to say anyway. You and Donghyuck still didn’t talk, you didn’t even have sex lately. Too busy with everything, that was the last of your thoughts. But you did sleep together and basically lived in symbiosis. So?

You should feel happy about this project. Academically it will be another success, and honestly, one of your best works so far. So why do you feel this emptiness in your chest now that you’re sitting on a chair in Donghyuck’s bedroom?

This is the end. Now nothing holds you two together, and you fear that what you built over these months might not be strong enough for you to still hang out with you. You wonder if this meant anything to him. Sure, he likes you, but how much? Sex means nothing, and even if said between the lines, he got you to try out romantic things to make you come up with the song. And he succeeded. You have the song, the lyrics you tried so hard to put down. Fake dates, fake flirts, fake everything, but everything you put down is real. And it’s terrifying.

So absorbed by your torments, you don’t see Donghyuck stare at you, standing in front of you changed into fresh clothes.

“Hey.” His voice makes you flinch in surprise and quickly look up at him. There’s a frown on his face. “What’s with that face?”

You shrug, diverting the eye contact.

“Are you not happy with the result?” Donghyuck asks, grabbing the closest chair so he can sit right in front of you.  

“No, I love it. I loved everything so much and that’s why I’m sad.” There are many reasons why, and you’re not a master at dealing with too many emotions at once. Subjects? Books? Essays? Projects? They can fall and pile up on you and you won’t feel the weight of it. But real life? Feelings? Not where you excel.

“Cause you won’t have any excuses to spend time with me and see me?” He teases, chuckling. He’s still the same person you met one year ago but behind his playful voice and acts there’s something tender, at least you like to see it this way.

“Uhm, I hope we will keep seeing each other,” you confess shyly, doing everything in your power to not meet his warm gaze. His hands on his lap are a beautiful view now. “But no…”

His teasing smirk turns apprehensive. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shrug. This should be the easy thing to confess. A bit humiliating considering showing some weakness to him still feels like letting your mortal enemy pour salt in your open wounds, but you’re hiding more vulnerable things from him.  

“Nothing but… I was so sure I didn’t want to be a singer, and I was more and more sure of working in Pr, and now… I don’t know. I loved writing the song, like I always do, but this time felt different, as if… that’s what I’m supposed to do in my life, you know?” You look up because even if you can’t take a mocking look you have to see his reaction.

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “I think you’re good at it so yeah, you should.”

You’re taken aback by that reply. Deep down you wanted him to shred your dreams cause you feel like all of this is insane, and if you have nobody supporting you maybe you won’t indulge in it. But it’s clear that Donghyuck is not an enemy anymore and has your back now.  

“Yeah but… I loved singing and doing it with you. Being in the studio, recording, but even before when we were working on the melody and everything. And working on the concept? We did all that with just one song, can you imagine what working on an album feels like?”

He smiles and nods. “Well, yeah, I fantasized about it a lot, so yes. But why is it a problem? Why can’t you pick this as a career?”

You can see in his eyes that he’s confused. Not by your change of path, but by your sudden insecurity. Deep down you’re shocked by that too. You have changed goals a few times in your academic career but somehow this feels so different.

“Cause it’s rare to make it,” you mutter, nervously playing with your hands. Truth is, the chances of failure are so big, and you’re not sure you could take it. You and your perfectionism and your need to succeed on the first try.  

“Can’t say you’re wrong, it’s hell out there, but… you’re good, and beautiful, and I’m sure that with your songwriting skills and your voice, someone will notice you.”

He had tried to make a name for himself longer than you, he knows it. During some vulnerable night conversation where you showed him your songs, he told you how many demos he had sent, and how hard he tried to build something at least on the socials. So you don’t care if his words are driven by sympathy, he could discourage you, but instead, he’s supportive, and that’s all you need.

“And what am I without your production? Will you be my Jack Antonoff?”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’d prefer to be your Aaron Dessner.”

“Yeah, fine. I like that Haechan,” you say, highlighting that name that now sounds foreign.

“I don’t want to hear that name roll from your lips anymore,” he chuckles and you hum laughing.   

“Talking about lyrics,” he says after a few seconds, the phrase lingers in the air… “this song was interesting.”

“Interesting? What do you mean? Is it bad?” Your eyes widen and the anxiety that left you jumps at you again.

He shakes his head. “I said interesting, not bad. You should know the difference.”

“It’s not funny, interesting means nothing.”

He chuckles. “Some phrases are interesting… that’s it. They look familiar.”

You feel your body burn up in flames and you have to shift your gaze from him. You should’ve scrapped that, he isn’t dumb. (You believed he was up until two seconds ago, but apparently, he was just waiting for the right moment to trap you.)

“I wonder if something, or someone,” he winks, “inspired you.”

“The sea. When we went there together. The sea inspired me,” you whisper swiftly, nervously biting the inside of your cheek. “That’s why I called it wave.”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’m not talking about the title, and you know it,” he says, resting his hand on your knee. “Flow that I’ve never felt before? Meeting you through distinctive distraction is a miracle?”

“You told me you liked it,” you say, playing innocent.

He rolls his eyes. “I do. I love it, actually. I just wanted to analyse it with you.”

You gulp when his fingers start rubbing on your skin. “We should’ve done it before recording it, don’t you think?”

He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I want to do it now. I think I already know who inspired you.”

“The sea —”

“Drop it,” he retorts sternly, squeezing your knee. “I think our plan worked. Well, unless you found someone else who inspired you to write a love song.”

“It’s barely a love song,” you stutter, body heating up.

“Right, some lyrics felt sexy,” he giggles. “You’re such a master in holding me here and there and going up and up down and down again.”

You try to scoot away, but he blocks you by putting his feet under the leg of the chair. “So what? Also, you’re dirty-minded, that’s not what it means…”

He snickers, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Why are you so flustered then?”

“Cause you’re too close to me, I can barely breathe.”

“Mhh… it reminds me of something.”

You roll your head back and mutter a curse under your breath. “Isn’t it what you wanted? To inspire me? I did it. I romanticized everything and we got the song.”

“Romantized everything,” he hums. “In this wave called you that’s pushing in, I fall in love. You are the center of my heart. Feeling new, feel now. The wave that started because of you, babe. Dive into the world called you. Damn, your creativity is so good, you are talented.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, I…” he sighs annoyed. “If you wrote it down in a song, why can’t you say it to my face?”

You gulp. “I have nothing to tell you.”

He raises a brow. “So you’re still confused. Should I satisfy you to hear you say it?”

You hide your face in your hands and groan. “Fine,” you snap. “I — I wrote that about you. And I, God, this is humiliating. You heard the song, you sang it. Do you want me to say it out loud? Was that not enough?”

Donghyuck smiles, and, for a moment, you fear he will break into a mocking laugh, but instead, his smile gets bigger. “Yes, I knew it,” he screams.

“Oh… of course it’s funny to you, maybe this is what you wanted all along, make me fall in love and then make fun of me.”

“Fall in love?” He whispers, stopping in his tracks to look at you, and only then you realise you said it loud and clear. And it’s worse than saying it in a song. “You love me seriously? Like it’s not just attraction and maybe liking me?”

You feel like choking up on tears but try not to show it. “So you can laugh at me more?”

“Why would I laugh at you? I just want to know if what you feel is real,” he replies, and somehow he sounds even more annoyed than before.

You hum and nod, no words can leave your mouth.

“Did you really think I would use this against you? Don’t you trust me?”

“I — I… I don’t know, okay? I do, but also, this was… this was all fake, just to write that song and now it’s real. And it was never supposed to be real, and maybe you never wanted me, cause I’m not your type and you hated me and we both wanted this to be over and now I feel like I can barely breathe without you, and I know that in the song I said I would’ve left the decision in your hands but the idea of you not wanting me back makes me sick and I —”

Your words fall into a void as he kisses you with no hesitation. Hands cupping your wet face and holding the back of your neck to keep you close.

“You’re so fucking stupid. So, so smart and yet such an idiot when it comes to feelings,” he chuckles when he pulls away. “You said I was an unexpected thing that completely changed your flow but do you have any idea of what you were to me? You ruined my second year,” he confesses, and your face quickly shifts into a worried expression, but he clears your doubts right away.  

“I thought I could beat you, I thought I could have the upper hand and… you messed up my days and nights. I thought you couldn’t fill up so much of my time when I already had so many friends but, fuck, I was wrong. And instead of distracting you, I let you distract me.”

“But I — I didn’t plan it, I didn’t want to —”

His thumb shushes you as his eyes crease in a smile. “You didn’t do anything, I just miscalculated. I didn’t know the amazing person you are, and let jealousy consume me before love took its place without me even noticing.”

You almost gasp. “Love? So, you do love me back?”

He nods. “Strong word, I know. But goddam, you were ten times cheesier in the song.”

You laugh and he does the same.

“But I am hurt, though. I can’t believe you thought I was playing you.”

“What were the chances you were going to fall for me, too? Nobody ever falls for me.”

“Good thing you only needed me to fall for you,” he says, kissing you. “So… did you fall for me at the beach?”

“I was confused back then. I knew I felt something but I didn’t know what it was. I thought it was only attraction, but at the same time, I felt like I needed you, you know?”

“And to think I wasn’t even sure of taking you there,” he giggles.

“Really?”

He nods. “I wanted to study, I already felt like I was falling behind and I thought I could use those three days to catch up, but then you crossed my mind and I forgot about the rest.”

You look down to hide the big smile on your face. No, you’re not happy you almost made him fail his second year in this war, but you love knowing how much he cares about you. The old Donghyuck would’ve never confessed this, he would’ve never shown how weak you make him. But now he’s proudly telling you how you genuinely occupied his thoughts.

“I know I didn’t show signs of failure, but you did succeed in your plan just a bit.”

He snorts. “Don’t need fools gold.”

“No, I’m serious. I mean, maybe you’re right, you didn’t, but I think you succeeded in something better. You showed me I can achieve my academic goals and still live life. You showed me so much. I had fun on my own, and I loved it, but I also only had myself and nobody to count on, and that sucks.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Yes you did, you pushed me out of my comfort zone and trust me, I did panic sometimes. I just hide it better. But you gave me the chance to meet seven amazing people allowing me in your friend’s group. Some of you have known each other for so long, that’s probably when I should’ve put my heart at ease and realised you truly cared about me.”

“You fail to understand how likeable you are. Everybody loves you, you just don’t pay them attention.”

You shrug. He’s probably right. You never cared about that, but you won’t start caring about it now. You found your people, you found your place.

Staying at his place for the night is tempting, but, truth be told, you two want to be on your own on your first night as lovers. So, with the excuse of wanting to eat an ice cream (not an excuse, you will eat ice cream), you slip out of the place.

The others don’t care. Honestly, it’s clear that everyone except you two was expecting this ending, but you will deal with this tomorrow at lunch with the girls. For now, you chuckle at Jeno’s wink before he rests his head on Renjun’s shoulder again, who barely waves goodbye before going back to the movie they’re watching. Mark seems to be the only one confused at the way your arms are linked when you walk through the living room, but you’re sure that Yangyang, who has a teasing smirk on his face, will fill him in as soon as you’re out of the door. Jaemin will sneak at the girls’ hang-out tomorrow, his face lets it all known.

“I love this place,” Donghyuck says when you enter your apartment.

“Really? This hole?” You chuckle, leaving your bag at the door and getting rid of your shoes.

He nods. “It’s cosy and quiet, and I get to have you all to myself.” Before he finishes the phrases he pulls you in his hold, almost making you lose your balance and you scold him.

“Can you be less clumsy?”

“Mhh... no.”

“Also, it’s not like not being alone ever stopped you from being the clingiest man on earth.”

He huffs, throwing his head back as he slowly starts walking backwards to reach the bed. “As if you don’t like it.”

“You got us many suspicious looks,” you complain.

“Girl, everybody knew about us,” he says, falling on the bed with you. “I fear they were betting on a situationship but well, we didn’t do anything to keep this on the low.”

You shrug. “Whatever,” you say, caressing his face to move the hair on his eyes. “I don’t care. Tonight I just want to think about us.”

“Now you’re talking,” he hums happily. “Can I get a chocolate-less kiss?”

You laugh. “You can get all the kisses you want.”

Your lips connect to his to start a sweet kiss that lasts for a while. You never truly pull away as your hands start moving on each other to get rid of the clothes and leave you half-naked on the bed.

“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs, rolling around so your back is on the mattress before he starts going down. His fingers hook with the band of your panties and pull them down. “A bush?”

You huff. “I was just a bit busy, and didn’t have time to shave.”

“Good. I hope you don’t find time to do it ever again,” he says making you laugh.

“You like it?” You ask.

“I love it,” he replies.

You don’t have time to react because his lips are on you as soon as he's done talking. Your hips buck up and you fail to hold back the moans.

Donghyuck takes his sweet time, licking up stripes to get you wet before he starts sucking on your hardening clit.

Your head rolls back against the pillow and your hands can’t help but tangle in his hair to pull him closer. The groan of pleasure that comes out of his mouth at your gesture makes you tremble.

“So fucking sweet for me,” he mumbles against you. “My sweet girl.”

A dumb grin curls your lips and your eyes try to open to get a glimpse of him. You regret that action cause his pretty face smashed against you as he eats you out as if you're his last meal sends shivers straight to your core.

“Please,” you whimper, making him open his eyes to stare at you. Your throat tightens and you feel like you might pass out from that, but still force yourself to finish the phrase. “Don’t stop, you’re so good. I — I never felt like this.”

He grins, pulling away only to reply. “Yeah? Am I that good?”

You groan. He’s still so competitive and always has to prove a point. But you don’t care. That’s fun. That’s what you love about him. “Yes, you’re that good. Just please, keep doing it.”

“Never planned of stopping.”

When his mouth starts moving on you again you see stars. Your neck falls behind, enjoy the softness of the pillow, and you stop trying to keep it together, moaning loudly and chanting his name.

His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you close to his mouth. And each flick of his tongue pushes the climax closer, making you see stars.

Your breath gets messier as you hit your peak and pleasure takes over your body as you let go to that blissful sensation running inside you.

You’re still gasping for air when you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, slowly entering you.

“Hyuck, what are you—?”

“I want you to be ready for me,” he says. “I won't make you come another time, I promise. Just getting you wetter.”

You mumble a sound that makes no sense before you decide to relax and enjoy the sensation. It’s not like you would ever complain about his fingers, you simply don’t want to be too sensitive already. But he’s true to his words, his two fingers fuck into you, curling up right on your sweet spot, turning you on more and coating them white.

“Always so good for me,” he praises when he pulls out, sucking them harshly before he leans in to kiss you. Your hands wrap in his hair as you pull him closer, letting your legs wrap around his waist to pull him down. “Damn, calm down,” he chuckles close to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know, but I want you close.”

Donghyuck smiles. “Unhook your legs for a moment and I’ll be as close as possible.”

Reluctantly, you do as ordered, knowing that as soon as he’ll slip in, your legs will be exactly in the same place.

You barely pay attention when he does, too focused on the gentle kisses he's leaving on the crown of your head, cheeks and neck. Your eyes only open when he bottoms in and brings your legs around himself.

“Happy now?” He asks, brushing behind a few strands of hair that fell on your face.

“More than happy,” you reply smiling. Your body moves on its own when your hips buck up against him, eliciting a deep moan to slip past his lips.

That’s the sign he needs to know he can start moving. One hand places on your waist to keep you in place and the other supports his body as he starts dragging his hips out.

You can feel your heart skip a beat when he leans down and hides in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “You always smell so good, that’s what tricked me to always be close to you,” he mumbles, nibbling your skin.

You chuckle, shaking your head. Even now he has something to say. Still, his words don’t distract him from his actions. With each stroke, he hits deep inside of you, hitting sensitive spots that make your toes curl and your fingers close into fists on the sheets.

After finding the perfect angle, Donghyuck starts speeding up, his thrusts not harsh but fast enough to build up a steady rhythm. And, with each one, you feel a wave of pleasure invading you.

“Come here,” you whisper, cupping his face to pull him close. “Wanna kiss you.” Your lips are on his right away and you both let go to a long passionate kiss as the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. One hand leaves his face to run on his back, feeling his muscles flex.

Your moans get louder with every passing second but they end up muffled in the messy kiss you’re still sharing.

When his hand sneaks between your bodies, so he can touch your clit in quick circular motions, you know you won’t last much longer. Your walls clench hard around him, and more wetness coats him as your hips buck up for more friction. And the last drop comes from his lips, leaving yours to wrap around your sensitive nipples.

“Hyuck,” your voice trembles as you call for him. Pleading eyes looking up at him. You should say something sex-related, maybe praise how good he’s making you feel, or how close you are, but even if those are the thoughts on the tip of your tongue, the words that come out are completely different. “I love you,” you whisper in a hush, feeling the weight disappear from your chest. Saying it clearly is like finally coming to the real realization.

Donghyuck smiles, kissing you repeatedly on the lips. “I love you, too.”

And soon after, you both reach your peak. The pleasure shoots through your bodies like fireworks in the sky.

You stay like that for a few minutes, kissing each other as you wait for your bodies to calm down.

When he slips out of you gently, putting his shirt under your body to avoid a mess, you still have a dumb, but content, smile on your face.

You don’t have the energy to move, so you lay there as you watch him move around to grab new clothes and two glasses of water. Just the time to pull yourself together, and you’re once again under the bedsheets, cuddled up against each other. You relax at the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on the back of your neck and let his heartbeat be a sweet melody.

Mamma Mia is playing on the TV, but none of you has much energy to sing along to ABBA’s songs —he has a bit more than you as he hums the words.

When he chuckles, you look up at him.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, staring at the tv with a frown on your face. The SOS scene not being exactly one of the funniest one.

“I was thinking about us,” he says.

“I do hope we won’t end up like this.”

“Yeah, no, but you ended up being my Waterloo, I guess,” he whispers, looking at you. And then you get it, remembering when he sang it to you.

“I told you,” you reply, making him gasp offended. “What? You expected me to say something nice? You mocked me, you bragged and I cursed you with eternal love for me.”

Donghyuck laughs and then wraps his arms around you to pull you flatter against him, resting his chin on your head.

“You know this doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to beat you, right?” He chuckles, but when you lift your gaze, getting a glimpse of him, you see his serious expression. And you hope he's true to his intention and that that spark set by your ambition will never die.

You smile smugly before relaxing against his warm embrace. “Yeah, but we’ll see if I’ll let you.”

YEARS LATER

“Is everything alright? Why are you looking at us like this?” You ask, shifting on your seat on the couch, looking at the girl in front of you.

“Is it true?”

“What?” Donghyuck says.

“Is it true that you two couldn’t stand each other?” She says, big brown eyes staring at you with curiosity.

You quirk a brow, giving your full attention to your daughter. “Why this sudden question?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing to see tweets of people going insane over you two, but also I think it’s unfair how these strangers seem to know more about my parents than me.”

You and Donghyuck laugh. “And what do they say?"

She rolls her eyes. “That they can’t believe you hated each other and that you started dating her to distract her but ended up falling for her?”

You look at each other smirking before a tender, nostalgic smile takes its place.

“Would it be so terrible?” He asks, tilting his head.

She thinks about it for a moment and then replies. “It would be a bit embarrassing for you, Dad. But also... cute. So?”

“I’d say it’s true,” he replies, shrugging.

“Wait, so you really started dating because you hated each other?” She screams, sitting straight on the loveseat, leaning toward you with her body.

You chuckle. “We didn’t hate each other. We believed we could outdo the other. And your father did too much, as always.”

“You were miserable before me,” Donghyuck replies, tightening his hold around your waist. “I had a plan, and it would’ve worked.”

You roll your eyes. “Imagine thinking you could make me fall in love and not fall in love with me,” you say to your daughter. “I was a real heartbreaker back then.”

“You still are,” she replies, smiling. “My friends go insane every time they realize who my parents are.”

Your daughter never brags about being your child. The famous singer, producer, and dancer Haechan, and you, who had a good launch as a singer before you realized that wasn’t your world and decided to stick to be a choreographer and PR manager (well, mostly Donghyuck’s choreographer and his manager). But everyone close to her knows who she is, and it’s not easy to act nonchalantly about it.

She has heard many stories about you two. The gossip about your story running wild since you broke into the industry. But you never sat down and explained it to her, not until now.

“We still have our charm,” Donghyuck laughs.

“I think the most important thing is your love and that you might be the best parents in the world. But I’m saying it officially only if you don’t turn it into a race.”

“Us? Turning something into a competition? We would never,” Donghyuck jokes.

She rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. And you can’t help but smile thinking how similar to your husband she looks right now.

“Honey, forgive us. How do you think we’re still having so much fun after all these years? That’s how we thrive, we learned how to push each other healthily.”

“Yeah, fine, I’m glad your love story is still perfect, but seriously, no competition when it comes to me. I love you both so much.”

“Come here,” you say, patting the space in front of you on the couch. Hugging her when she sits down between you two. “You are the only thing we won’t turn into a competition.”

Donghyuck hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around you two. “We both won with you.”

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

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© neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 

[eph3merall]

i’m in love with literally anything you write! i was wondering by if you could make a dealer!chris + doll!reader fic with either fluff or angst (dare i say very specific🤭) to an ariana grande song (your choice) !! <3

soo sweet <3 sorry this took so long. loosely based off 'in my head' by ariana grande !

—

"Here’s the thing: you’re in love with a version of a person that you’ve created in your head, that you are trying to but cannot fix."

chris is hunched over—back aching and muscles sore. you eye him from your position next to him on the worn sofa, watching as he snorts another line of coke. white powder is speckled slightly around his nostrils, exhaling as he sits up and stretches his shoulders out. sniffing and wiping at his nose with his finger, he exhales and clicks his tongue.

you don't dare to say much, noticing how he seems to be 'in his element' or whatever. you aren't exactly a fan of chris' constant drug usage and his deals—but it's kind of his 'job' and he gets money for it. as long as he's getting by without trouble, right?

you've tried a few times to try and persuade him to stop. to quit, get sober, find a better way of making money. because the chris you fell in love with wasn't this chris, god, he couldn't exactly be more different from how he is right now. but complaining never helped, he always went on some shit like 'hey, don't forget who pays for your shit now. that pretty cami y'got on? yeah, i got you that.'

but chris isn't a bad person, no. he's sweet, nice. he cares for the people around him and screws the people who screw him. your fingers intertwine together as you mindlessly fiddle with them when some girls creep up towards chris to buy from him.

you don't miss the way his lips curl into a sluggish smirk, leaning back into the plush cushions and starting up conversation with them. they are pretty, you have to admit that. you'd be worried he would take the chance to swoop up a pretty girl from the group, but this is chris. he's loyal, and he's stated and shown it multiple times.

you bring your legs up, curling to the side—one on top of the other in your side sitting position as you tug your skirt down gently. your eyes try not to focus on anything in particular, trying to relax and sink into the arm chris has looped around your shoulders as he holds you firmly to his side.

you glance at him when his fingers mindlessly fiddle with the strap of your tanktop, digits tapping on the bare skin of your arm a few times. and then chris slides away from you, hips raising and his hand patting his back pocket. it's only now he spares you a quick look—eyes shifting back to the band of girls in front of him.

one of them was leaning towards him, and you could practically see her tits spilling out from the tight dress she had on. a wad of cash was in her hand, manicured nails grazing chris' hand when he hands her a little baggy of white substance. his tongue clicks against his mouth and you try to ignore the disappointment in you when his hand doesn't fall across your shoulders again.

the lights of the party are blinding and a variety of flashy colors, loud rap music seeming to make your ears ring. your fingers tap against your thigh a few times as you mindlessly draw little hearts on your skin, knowing how much chris hates it when you do that to him. even though he didn't really care at first and even called it 'cute'.

you recall the way many of your own friends told you to just be careful—chris isn't what he seems. he'll use you for something and leave you all alone, or he'll love bomb you then leave one day without any explanation. but that hasn't happened to you yet, and it's been a good few months already. you never have a thought in your head that thinks chris would cheat on you, he just isn't like that.

confusion overtakes your features when you see chris standing up, grinning at that one girl as her friends giggle and shuffle away. you immediately start to sit up, always following chris around and not getting the memo that he was about to leave you to go bang a girl. he spots you about to get up, clearing his throat as a big hand comes to shove your shoulder gently to get you to sit back down. "hey, m'gonna go somewhere for a sec. stay here. a'ight doll?"

you blink at him. what? you dont get what he's about to do, but chris is already starting away with the girl in tow. and you want to follow, because what the fuck? but you sit still, like chris told you to—a feeling of dread filling you when you see him whisper something against the girls' lips and start kissing at her face and neck while dragging her into an empty room.

oh.

—

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita @chaossturns

©eph3merall 2024

[strawchocoberry]

INEBRIATED SENSES

Damn papa, you a rare breed, no comparing

kinktober 2024 — day four

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. karasu tabito x fem reader 

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. smut, drunk sex, spanking, voice kink, nipple play, dirty talk, degradation kink 

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. confession from the mansion — word count. 1.5k 

And while others are running out and about, doing all kinds of mischiefs, others prefer the chaos of a party. In one of the mansions up the hill, some rich kid is throwing a masque party. The alcohol runs freely, as if flowing from a river. People are dancing around the pool and main area of the house, while others have already made themselves comfortable in one of the rooms on the upper floors, spending more private moments. And a few others have formed groups, talking and drinking and playing all kinds of games one can think of. 

And you’re right there, in one of those groups playing a drinking game. The atmosphere’s a bit of a daze, as all participants are tipsy already. You’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had already, but you know you can still continue. 

One of them spins the bottle and it lands on you, everybody exclaiming in anticipation of what you’re going to be asked to do. “Take a shot from one person in the circle, whoever you want.” 

You take a moment to look around at your options, when in reality you’ve had your eyes on one specific sexy and hot policeman for a while now. Maybe it’s the alcohol giving you an extra shot of confidence tonight. Or maybe it’s your mind screaming, “Screw it, when will I ever have a chance like this again?” Or maybe you wanted to play the part of dressing up as a little demon. 

You lock eyes with him, innocently fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Come here, you little crow— Sorry, I meant, Mr Policeman.” 

Karasu smirks, sitting up properly on the floor, watching you ever so seductively crawl to him, swaying your hips so enticingly. He watches you open the upper part of his costume, leaving his toned chest exposed. You push him back down on the floor, sitting on his lap and straddling his waist with your legs. You rub salt over his pectoral, right above his nipple and somebody else puts a lime wedge on his mouth. 

You take one last look at him, before gulping down the shot given to you. You lick the salt off his body, feeling his abs tense underneath you. You innocently look into his eyes as you sneakily swirl your tongue around his nipple, biting down your smirk as you lean closer to him. Before you can take the lime wedge from his mouth, he grabs the back of your head and kisses you, passing the lime from his lips to yours. 

You’re momentarily frozen, taken aback by his action, automatically chewing the lime down. His hand comes to the front to caress your cheek, as you two stare at each other’s eyes. For those few seconds, the music and the chattering seems to be fading into the background. Your body slides to the floor, as Karasu stands up. He looks down at you for a moment, before throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Excuse us, I have to get this one to jail for humiliating an officer,” Karasu says, spanking your arse, then picking up a bottle of tequila. 

You squeal as he makes a sudden turn. Your face is red, both from the alcohol and the fact that Karasu’s carrying you through the swarm of people, attracting all eyes on the two of you. He starts ascending the stairs and you notice your friends waving you goodbye, muttering inaudibly to have a good time. You’re too busy covering your blushed face and listening to your heart’s loud beating to realise when he’s taken you to a room. 

He closes the door and locks it, before letting you down. You try to calm the hell that has broken loose inside you, though that’s a mission impossible at this point. Your eyes trail down to his exposed chest, unconsciously biting your lip at his slightly hard nipple, the one you licked a few moments ago. And Karasu notices it, as he helps you out of your demon wings. 

Picking you up with one arm, he throws you on the bed, before climbing on top of you, straddling your legs with his. You watch as he places the tequila bottle on the nightstand next to you, his fingers then grabbing the zipper at the front of your demon suit. Teasingly slowly, he unzips it, his eyes widening slightly, lips parting to breath out a “Fuck…” Goosebumps erupt all over your exposed chest, at every place his eyes hungrily look at. 

Karasu looks into your eyes, but there’s no will in them to push him away. Rather there’s curiosity about his next move, which makes him chuckle. Unzipping your demon dress entirely, he takes it off your body, throwing it somewhere in the room, leaving you only in your lacy panties. Your eyes follow him as he leans to grab the tequila bottle, opening it and taking a quick sip, before he spills some of it all over your exposed skin, then places the bottle back on the side. 

He lowers himself to your lips, looking into your eyes with one of his signature cocky smirks. “You took a shot from my body, it’s only fair I do the same.” 

Before your brain has the time to register his words, his lips touch your breast, sucking the alcohol off your skin, eliciting a low moan from your lips. Karasu licks the tequila from your areola, smirking when your moan grows louder and more heavy with lust. He sucks on your nipple, getting hard from the sweet sounds you make, giving your other breast the exact same treatment. His lips trail down your stomach, stopping just before your drenched from tequila and arousal panties. 

Karasu steals your breath, as he bites the waistband of your undergarments and pulls it off your legs, leaving you completely naked underneath him. He hovers over you, kissing your lips, the aftertaste of tequila in his lips making you drunk with desire. You manage to force him underneath you, breaking the kiss to moan at the feeling of his hard clothed cock beneath your bare pussy. You grab the tequila bottle, spilling some on his body as well, especially his pants. 

“Oops!” you giggle. “Now you need to take your trousers off too, Mr Policeman.” 

“Then why don’t you be a good girl and take them off for me?” 

You really don’t need any further persuasion, unbuckling his belt and taking off his trousers and underwear in mere seconds, before assuming again your seat on his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, grinding yourself on him, loving the moan that escapes him. 

“Fuck…” he moans, slapping your arse again, smirking at your body flinching and your little whimper. “I only said to take my trousers off. But maybe you’re that much of a dumb drunk whore, you cannot understand a simple command.” 

“So what if I am?” you ask, giving him your most innocent look, despite the moan leaving your lips. “Are you going to punish me, Mr Policeman?” 

Karasu attacks your lips, biting down on your lip to demand access to your mouth, slipping his tongue inside to devour you. As you continue grinding yourself on him, he slaps your arse again, hard, until his red handprints are visible on your arse cheeks. Your moans and whimpers excite him, his dick already leaking precum. He grabs your hair and pulls you away from his lips, both of you breathing hard for a moment too long. 

“Maybe I should teach this naughty demon some manners,” he agrees with another cocky smirk. 

He slaps your arse again, your painful moan makes him unable to wait any longer. Karasu forces you on your stomach, lifting your reddened arse up for him. Without warning, he thrusts inside, your choked scream and the tight grip of your cunt on his cock have him almost cumming to the spot, another low moan escaping his lips. He grabs your wrists and holds your upper body midair, as he starts pounding inside you, stretching you out to accommodate his girthy dick. 

“O-Oh fuck… Too big… Too big,” you moan, urging him on to fuck you even harder. 

He lets go of one arm, leaning over you to grab your face and turn you to look at him, your tears making him go wild. “You say that, yet you’re taking me so well, little whore,” Karasu whispers in your lips, before kissing you. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Or maybe his cock is just that good, because you end up cumming in mere minutes of having him inside you. Your entire body is trembling, pussy gripping him so tightly, milking him, as you moan his name. 

“Louder, slut,” Karasu growls. “I want everyone to hear how good I’m fucking you tonight.”

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[kechiwrites]

gentle touch

könig x massage therapist!reader kinktober countdown day 5 (body worship)

synopsis: oh, the military boys were your favourite.

wc: 2.8k

cw: massage therapist reader doing bad medical-ish practice, body worship, light sub!konig, mentions of edging, hand jobs, a little oral as a treat, biting, konig being petnamed as he should (honey), size kink, hints at touch starvation, groping, begging, uncut konig, afab!reader, no gendered pronouns or language.

author's note: i know his dick hex code and it's glorious. mdni.

He’s your last appointment of the day. And what a fucking day it had been, ten hours that should’ve been eight, cinnamon scented candles instead of eucalyptus, a rushed lunch because a client had shown up early, not taking “I’m on break” for an answer.

You knock on the faux bamboo door, waiting for your appointment to allow you entry. When he does, so quietly you almost miss it, you open the door, only for your eyes to land on a broad, strong back, still wrapped in a dark grey long sleeve. He turns slightly, just enough for you to see the thin stubble on his chin, cheek and jaw.

"Hello! I didn't catch you undressing did I?" This time he turns all the way around and you are sure your swallow is audible. Hell, you hope it's audible, you want this dude to know just how impressed you are with what you're seeing.

"No." He shakes his head, rubbing his aquiline nose against the inside of his wrist. It must’ve been broken once before, if the uneven bump on his bridge is anything to go by. Why is that hot? That shouldn’t be hot. You eat up the motion, eyes tracking every twitch or movement of his massive arms.

“Oh…" you're ogling him. You need to stop ogling him. "I actually need you to strip down.” The words burn on your tongue. You must say that a thousand times a work week, but this time, when you say it to him, it sounds…dirty. Like a shitty porn set up. Makes your clean white polo feel vacuum sealed to your skin. He takes a step towards you and you shudder a breath, tensing until you realize he’s getting closer to the lockers to your left.

He’s huge, you think, and when he still doesn’t look up at you, content to let the strands of dark brown hair, nearly black hair, hang in his face, you figure he’s shy too.

Cute.

“And you can use the towel to maintain modesty, Mr. König.” You get the inflection of his name wrong, you know because you’d googled it prior, held your phone to your ear in the staff washroom and listened to a soft spoken German man lilt it to you. There’s a hard ‘g’ on the end where it shouldn’t be, and you apologize, trying again to master it. “König.”

“Right.” He murmurs, “Just around my waist, yes?”

Or it could go on the floor and I could rub my clit on your abs.

“Yes, sir. Around your waist.”

You exit the room, closing it softly behind you. You figure you’ll use the few minutes you have to get a bottle of water, or a sedative. Something strong enough to bring you back down to your customary professional detachment.

When you return, he’s where you expect him to be. Face down on his stomach, his head in the cushioned hole. “S-sorry.” He speaks, voice muffled by his position. The apology comes immediately upon the sound of the door closing and you worry his large frame has cracked the massage table or something. You peer around him, looking for any chunks of polished wood or loose screws.

When you don’t find anything you realize he’s apologizing for his scars, the pit marks of bullets dug out in haste and healed with spite, lacerations haphazardly stitched, then redone a second time with the careful, practiced hands of a doctor in no rush.

“Oh, please don’t be. We get military boys all the time. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You murmur, and it’s a lie of course. Not that you’ve seen scars, of course, you’ve seen some really storied skin in your time here, being near a base and all. No, it was the man who was an oddity. Mandy at the front desk told you that he’d had to duck through the front door.

His skin is also ultra pale in a way military men usually aren't. Near transparent, the sprawling blue lines of his veins thread underneath his skin, and you can see yourself getting distracted tracing some of the pathways with your fingers.

He hums, and you hope you’ve put him at ease a little bit. You haven’t even touched him yet and the tension in his back is glaring. Anxious people tended to hold a lot of stress, anxious soldiers? You’re just glad he’d booked a two hour instead of the customary hour and twenty.

The oil is cold straight from the bottle and you warm it between your palms before you make contact. He’s warm to the touch, bridging on hot, and he flinches when your hands meet his skin. “Was that too cold?” He groans, but doesn’t affirm or deny it, so you figure it must just be the contact. Slowly, you begin with his calves, tending to and pushing on knotted muscle and tense areas, working out kink after kink, soothing his compounded aches. The oil smoothes down his leg hair and you must be going insane because even that is hot to you. His thighs are even worse, strong and muscled and dimpled in the sweetest places. He shivers when your palms glide over his inner thighs, and he clenches them together when your fingers brush the hem of the towel shielding his ass from your greedy view. As quickly as it happens, he relaxes, murmuring another apology. You hum your own response, and push your thumb into an adorable cluster of moles you see just under the towel.

By the time you get to his lower back, König is almost purring, his gentle breathing often interrupted by drawn out, guttural moans. Whines and whimpers that make your blood hot. He’s holding the worst of his tension there, and you have to lean almost all your body weight into the motions of the massage. His hips jerk up and then down just as sharply when you crest your palm over her shoulder blades, and you don’t imagine the keening noise he makes as he grips the massage table. You’re used to military clients being a lot more stoic but it seems Mr. König is most assuredly not the sort. You reach his neck, framing his throat with your palms and using your thumbs to rub firm circles into his nape. His breath hitches and you find yourself cooing. “Breathe for me, I got you.” The soldier’s hips snap downward again, this time hard enough to shift the table beneath him. Which is more than enough to make you pause. 

No.

It couldn’t be.

The soft music and sound of the water feature on the wall nearly drown out the curse König whispers, but you catch it, and can’t stop your lips from curling into a pleased little smile. This was just too good. You start to finish up his neck, brushing some of his hair out of the way so you can rub your fingertips into the skin just below his earlobes. You guide him to turn over and when he doesn’t respond, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep.

“Mr. König?”

He makes a wordless groaning noise low in his throat, laying motionless.

“I need you to turn over, honey.” You don’t even realize you’ve pet-named a grown man you don’t know. Which is just as well, because it seems to be what the soldier needs, and he rises from the table, clutching the towel in a tight fist to maintain his scant modesty.

You turn towards the side table, pouring more oil into your palm. When you return to face him, you witness why exactly he was so reluctant to face the ceiling.

He’s at least half-hard, a very noticeable ridge lifting his towel. You can’t stop staring at it, even though you know König is trying his best to ignore it. You circle around him, and begin at the foot of the table, going through the massage cycle again; feet, calves, thighs, arms. You zone out, following through your motions, listening to the man beneath groan and sigh his contentment. You reach his chest, spreading your hands over his pecs. They’re big, just like the rest of him, you think and it’s hard not to fucking drool on him. He’s firm but soft, still pleasantly warm, despite being exposed to slightly below room temperature air. He shifts again when you hit a stubborn knot right below his collarbone, and you pause to check in.

“Still good?”

His breathing is uneven, shuddering and laboured. His hands clench and relax from white knuckled fists.

“Yes.” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you’re worried he’s undoing every bit of relaxation you’ve tried to bring him. It’s painfully clear where the stress is coming from, hidden underneath a paltry white towel, the enticing elephant in the room. You put your hands back on him.

Still got 45 minutes left, after all.

You try your best not to look smug, and you fail miserably.

Every stroke and rub you perform across his chest makes his cock jerk and twitch under the towel. You can practically see the cloudy drops of precum that’d be beading as his tip. Your thumb nail skates across his pectoral and catches his nipple and the whine he makes is so sweet you just have to do it again. Soon, you’re barely massaging him, groping the poor man under the guise of your job. A weak grunt snaps you out of your reverie, and when you glance down his abdomen at that godforsaken towel, you can’t stop the quiet gasp of shock you release at his erection. “Ah, I’m so sorry. Very sorry” His flush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, a gorgeous stewed cherry colour that overwhelms the pale skin you’d worked into submission. His eyes are screwed shut when you can bear to drag your eyes from his cock to his face. His soft, pink mouth is pulled down at the corners, and the heavy, dark slashes of his eyebrows are furrowed together, creating a wrinkle between them you want to smooth out with a kiss.

“It happens all the time. Are you alright to continue?” Your voice is deceptively calm, serene and soft, when all you really want to do is snatch the towel off the battering ram he’d smuggled in here. Your blood thrums, and you ache at the sight of it, at the mere thought of the ungodly stretch he’d put you through.

You will yourself to keep your hands where they are, force yourself to look literally anywhere else. The faux waterfall ahead of you, the wireless speaker droning pleasant, melodic mood music, fuck, you even try staring at the dimmed light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. But every cry and whine forces your eyes down, tempts you to catalogue every inch of flushed skin and threaded muscle. You gnaw on your own lip, and find your hands drifting down, back around his abdomen. You’ve worked through the area already, there is no excuse to be down there, to slip your finger tips under the towel, to push your digits into the skin around his pelvis. “Is this okay?” You have the gall to ask, when you push your fingers lower still, and basically sign your own severance package. Oh but it’d be worth it, to get what you want, to make this big strong man sob with pleasure, to have his mouth on your throat while you stroked him to completion. The memory of his cock in your hand will keep you warm in the unemployment line.

König nods, turns his head towards you but doesn’t open his eyes. His hips cant upwards again, and his towel shifts, parting to reveal his angry, desperate hard-on. He raises a hand from the massage table, letting his mammoth paw land on your hip. He squeezes you, and exhales sharply through his nose when his thumb touches your bare skin, skating over your flesh underneath your work shirt. “Say it.” You mutter and his eyes crack open, just wide enough for you to spot the crystalline blue of his irises between his inky black lashes.

“Please.”

And that’s all you need.

He’s uncut, and the veins blanketing the length of his cock are visible under his foreskin. Pretty in a way you aren’t used to, a denser blush than the rest of his body, but still quite pale. It feels like your hand is moving in slow motion towards it, your fingers twitching in anticipation. The heat of his dick warms your skin before you even make contact, and when you do, wrapping your fingers around the root of it, your fingertips can’t touch. You press your lips together and try not to squeal happily, glee crinkling your eyes.

God is real and he’s an uncircumcised cock on a shy giant.

König’s erection is searingly hot. Soft skin and hard core, jerking in your palm, leaking steadily, nudging at your hand, insistent. Your brain is working full steam and connections necessary to utilize common sense are still not being made. Slowly, you tighten your hold on him, the weight of it is so imposing, you wouldn’t be surprised if imprints of the veiny surface were branded onto your hand once you withdrew. If you ever withdrew. You should fucking withdraw.

You do not withdraw. Instead, you slide your hand up slowly, choking up on the head of his cock before dragging your grip back down. You chance a glance up at his face, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each laboured swallow. The poor man’s jaw clenches and relaxes while you slide your palm over his flesh again and again. Somehow, he hardens further and your eyes widen impossibly larger, the pit of your stomach doing somersaults at the idea of where you want that thing to go, what you want it to do. You get fevered flashes of König bending you over the massage table in your mind, hands on your hips, rutting without sense or logic into you, so hard the surface scrapes against the floor, all while he sobs, his overwhelmed, overstimulated tears splashing against your back while he rearranged your insides. The head of his cock is exposed every time you slide your hand down towards his pelvis. By the third peek, you’re dragging the pointed end of your tongue over the tip of his dick, licking against his head, and coating your mouth with the taste of him. He grips at your side harder, his fingers digging into your hip as he chases the warmth of your mouth. He keens loud, almost mewling when you pull off him, using your spit to ease your hand’s path. By this point, your handiwork is audible, noisy and wet, König’s voice filling the small room. You use your free hand to guide his head to your chest, letting him bend toward you, press his nose into your tits while he begs for you to finish him.

“Are you gonna come, Mr. König?” You thread your fingers in his hair, letting your nails scratch against his scalp, drift down to his nape and up to his crown again.

“Yes, please, please. Fuck.” His voice is reedy and thin, and he wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face deeper in your chest. And then his whole body trembles, and his hips roll towards you, and for a fleeting minute you consider edging the poor bastard, sliding your hand completely off his cock and watching it twitch violently, uselessly in the air.

But he begs so sweetly. And his next session was already pre-booked.

The hand you kept on his head leaves his hair, and you rub the head of his cock with your flat open palm, jerking him off with firm, fast strokes. He bites down on the curve of your breast, and you’re grateful he still managed to retain enough brain cells to not break skin.

“Do it then. Come, honey.” You trill, feeling his tears wet your skin through your shirt. It’s almost instantaneous, so fast it’s kind of impressive. His body goes bowstring-tight, and he squeezes you so hard it almost hurts. Ropes of sticky white seed shoot from his cock, covering your hand and his spasming abdomen. You slide your hand up, milking just the first two inches of him through his orgasm, until he stops your movements himself, covering your hand with his own.

When you finally break contact, you stare at your hand for what feels like ages, thick beads of his cum rolling down your palm, sliding to your wrist. You extricate yourself from his hold, using your clean hand to brush his sweat damp hair from his forehead. You press that kiss you wanted to the space between his brows. Why start restraining yourself now? His body shivers periodically, and you turn to the sink, to wash your hands clean, clenching your own thighs together, his moans and sighs echoing in your mind. You turn to face him, grinning wide and cheery,

“So...I’ll see you next week?”

hoe, you are getting fired! at least you got a man outta it though.

support city girls who love gummy worms, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

[harunayuuka2060]

Azul: Floyd! Have you seen that? What was that about?!

Floyd: Someone asked for Jade's hand in marriage~.

Azul: Shit- Did your father give his blessing?

Floyd: Eh~ He said that he'll be hers if she can get Jade~.

Floyd: Hehe~.

Azul: ...

Azul: It seems to me that I'm the only one freaking out here.

Floyd: Yeah~.

Azul: ...

Chubby MC: *is alone in their house because Jade volunteered to do their groceries*

Chubby MC: I hope he gets stuck in traffic. *while folding clothes*

*The sound of the doorbell*

Chubby MC: Tch. I jinxed it. *stood up then goes to open the door*

Chubby MC: Jade, did you double check-

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: Who are you?

The unknown woman: Is this where Jade is hiding?

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: Are you referring to a fugitive or something?

Chubby MC: Why are you looking for him?

The unknown woman: My name is Vivienne Sinclair. Jade's fiancée.

Chubby MC: Oh. *is making that 'I don't want to deal with this' expression*

Chubby MC: That's his house. You can wait there for him. *about to close the door*

Vivienne: I've heard that you're the land mammal Jade is in love with.

Vivienne: *scans them from head to toe*

Chubby MC: ...

Vivienne: I can see why he's attracted to you.

Vivienne: But as everyone says, beauty fades easily.

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: Did you just...

Chubby MC: Are you competing... WITH ME?

Chubby MC: *mutters* You've got a few loose screws.

Jade: I'm home-

Jade: ...

Jade: *seeing a woman, who he has never met before, sitting with MC*

Jade: *his jealousy is spiking*

Jade: Oh dear, we have a visitor?

Chubby MC: Yeah. Your wife.

Jade: ...

Jade: Huh?

Chubby MC: *to Vivienne* Take him now. And don't forget to close the door behind you when you leave. *stood up and goes back to their room*

Jade: ...

Vivienne: *stood up from her seat too* Jade Leech, you're coming with me.

Jade: ...

Jade: *smiles* No. Who even are you?

Vivienne: Vivienne Sinclair-

Jade: Never mind. I'm actually not interested in knowing who you are.

Vivienne: ...

Vivienne: Is that so? Then I have no reason but to stay where you are.

Jade: I would appreciate it if you wouldn't.

Azul: ...

Floyd: So~?

Azul: Vivienne ended up staying there too.

Floyd: *laughs*

[n0tamused]

hi.iii.... Booth,ill request!?!?

Boothill gets a component jammed, and in this particular fix-up with his mechanic, he's twice as curious and won't stop nabbing things (Tugging on the mechanics hair, grabbing tools from readers apron, whistling and asking too many questions about the practicality of certain tool ect.)

A/N: TEA REQUESTING BOOTHILL, SOUND THE ALARMS AND GET TO WORKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET OFF YOUR ASSS! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE <3 <3

Content: Boothill x Reader, no pronouns used, Boothill calls you darling bc ofc, playful Boothill

“What’s this for again?” 

“It’s for the little screws that connect your plating together”

“Hm, looks like you can stab someone with it” Boothill commented, eyeing the thinner tool peeking from your work apron which lost its original white color, having changed to a washed out green with blotches of oil and metallic spray paint. It’s been only half a system hour since Boothill first stepped into the mechanic station you worked at, and already he has made a score for how many questions can be asked within those 30 or so minutes. It’s been a terrible morning with terrible weather and terrible news and terrible first customer, and this talking-your-ear off wasn't something you needed - it wasn’t exactly soothing, but you had no heart to tell him to quiet down.

You love to hear him talk while you work, you got used to it and have adjusted to it long ago, but today just had to be special. It had started to grow distracting and such distractions can’t be afforded if you are to properly fix the jammed plating and components within his arm. The plating pressed onto the wires within, making his entire arm remain in a constant position that would be painful were he still made whole of flesh and bone. The uncomfortable bend of it made you cringe when you saw it, reminding you of that one time your leg cramped badly from, and so you quickly got to work.

“Anything can be used as a weapon if you find ya’self in a bad situation, ain’t that right, darling?” Boothill mused, his cramped arm extended towards you as you worked your way to separate all the plating, the jammed and bent screws making it harder to pull apart. “Perhaps I should get m’self one of those too, y’know- for some close-range encounters. But then again, there’s not many situations that my bullets can’t help to resolve” he kept going, looking at your eyes that focused on the opening you made.

“Y-yeah..” you absentmindedly responded, not being able to pay too much attention to his words, but you caught a few words of ‘weapon’ and ‘gun’ and made a surface connection based on that. ‘Just nod along..’ You were distracted from the start of this day, despite your denial of that.

What came unexpectedly was two of his metal hands coming up to pinch a loose and hanging lock to tug on it, just enough to break your focus and move your head back. “Ow- heyy!” you protested as you turned to sharply glare at him. “I’m trying to fix you up here, you know? Do you want your arm stuck like this for the rest of time?” Your words are a challenge to him, and he greets it with a toothy grin. a hearty chuckle and slanted, hiding warmth behind them under a guise of mischief.

“Oh, come on! You’ve been fixing me up for a long time, and we are on friendly terms are we not, partner? What got you so gloomy today, I haven’t don’ anything wrong, have I?” His fingers give another small tug to your lock of hair before you pull your head back and your hair out of his hold, shaking your head. He was acting so stubborn now! What in the world has gotten into him?

“No! But come on- Hey!” you try to grab the screwdriver before Boothill fishes it out of the pocket of your apron with his good hand, twirling it between his fingers and staring at it as if he struck gold with his catch. Your hands all but abandoned your work on his arm, standing up to retrieve the screwdriver from his hold but he persists, stretching like a big, long cat to move the screwdriver out your way, and despite his disadvantage of sitting  down in a chair, he did a wonderful work of avoiding your grabby hands.

You huffed in frustration, biting your lip in hopes to choke back the laugh you felt bubbling in your throat. Your face was flushed from holding your breath and chasing him around and around, yet moving nowhere.

“Boothill, give it back! I need that for your arm, you fool” you argue, making another dash for his hand, only to grab onto air as he swiftly moves his hand down. 

“Nah, I think I may try doing this m’self, can’t have you working on me in that sour of a mood. I don’t know what I’ve done- hold on, has someone else soured your mood?” 

“Give- it - back” in some last ditch attempt to pry the screwdriver from his hands before he can do more damage than good, you threw yourself over his shoulder from behind, reaching for his wrist with one hand and grabbing the screwdriver with the other. “Whoa there!” you hear him cheer, more laughter coming from him, and this time you can’t help but choke out a chuckle, now at the grips with him. Toe-to-toe and at a tug of war.

“No one has soured my mood, now, please, give it back” you plead but he stays stubborn, shaking his head and  you feel his head turn and tilt, his nose touching your shoulder. “Wh-” you gasp as you feel his teeth nipping at your shoulder through your clothes, a playful snap of his jaw before he is pulling away just as quickly as he leaned in. 

As you turn and twist to look at him in pure and utter disbelief, his eyes catch yours, and he sees just how flushed you look and before long he is losing his grip on the screwdriver from laughing. 

“Oh shut up, you ranger! That was so unnecessary!” You won the screwdriver back, but at what cost? Yet.. seeing him laughing so earnestly was contagious. 

Boothill himself often came in for check up and fix ups with a sour and snappy mood, but never at you, and he always made it a point not to burden you with gloom and boredom of his situation, he never lacked to tell you stories of the world and where his travels took him when you weren’t around. And god- it’d be a lie to say you didn’t try to cheer him up more than once before. It finally dawned on you that perhaps you were too gloomy and he was trying to cheer you up, in whatever way he could, given his own circumstances.

“Ahh, you should go and take a look at yourself, darling, you look red like a sweet berry, pah!” 

How could you not be distracted when you had such genuine company? No gloom can pierce this cowboy. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[stoutguts]

Ghoap 💀🧼 relationship dynamic HC (shall we?)

Simon "Ghost" Riley is no scaredy-cat.

The man has been through hell on Earth, survived torture, abuse,—and being buried alive for fuck’s sake. They managed,—even after everyone he loved was taken from him. Has been through countless tense and anxiety inducing situations throughout their military career.

But Ghost has nerves of steel, excellent control over his emotions, and naturally that’s why it’s so damn good at its job.

Though…there is one thing that scares the shit out of them. Soap.

Simon thought he was all big and bad,—intimidating,—until he met John “Soap” MacTavish.

Johnny is only around half its size, yet he manages to be even scarier than Ghost somehow. Which is wild, considering one of them looks like the damn grim reaper with that skull mask of theirs.

Simon may have a reputation for “the guy you don’t wanna mess with”, to the point where people won’t even bother with them.—But Soap’s got more than a few screws loose himself.

New recruits and others will at least approach him,—but with serious caution, and are careful to watch their mouths around him.

His anger is explosive, fitting, for a demolitions expert. A total loose cannon when he wants to to be. Some recruits even refer to him as “the psycho Scot” or "Ghost's guard dog". Titles he takes to with pride.

Johnny’s known for putting people in their place, and with every fight he’s ever gotten into,—he’s always won. Often sending his opponents to medical.

Most of the time though, he just has to look at someone and it scares them shitless. He’s mastered his death glare, and it even sends shivers up Ghost’s spine.

The man’s a total gym rat and health nut, nothing but muscle, and he trains the most of anyone Simon has ever seen. Works out constantly, and loves to get his body moving. He can never simply sit still, and being active actually helps him to clear his head and blow off steam. Always keeping track of his calories, weighing out his portions, and whatnot,—with a pescatarian and vegetarian lifestyle. He’s also a nature lover and tree hugger,—loves to go on hikes or go camping in his spare time. He’s naturally a reigning champ when it comes to hand to hand combat, and is a highly skilled fighter, in fact, he specializes in it. He’s capable of taking out tangos with nothing but his fists alone. He even beats Simon to a pulp on the sparring mats most of the time. (Ghost may like him beating the snot out of him more than they than would like to admit…)

Soap is used for interrogations, (as he also just so happens to be an interrogation expert). He’s morally bankrupt just enough,—to where he’ll do just about anything to get answers out of someone. Whether it involves violence or not.

Simon has seen the sheer extent of the injuries sustained by the poor bastards that were stupid enough to challenge him, that pissed him off, or that he’s extracted information out of—and that was enough for Ghost.

He recalls that one time he directly witnessed Johnny, feigning calmness, take a recruit’s hand in his, then proceed to snap the guy’s thumb clean in half in one fluid motion. (The recruit had decided to wolf whistle at him when he was walking over to Ghost,—after their duties had wrapped up regarding training the newbies).

Simon is a smart man, and knows when to pick his battles. Soap being the battle he most certainly knows NOT to pick.

Although Johnny is more lenient with Ghost than other people, and lets them get away more,—Simon’ll be damned if it ends up on the receiving end of Soap’s wrath.

I really like the idea of Soap being the dominating one in the relationship, but Ghost not being entirely submissive either.

Like Simon can and will be the one to put him in HIS place, and snap him back to reality. Though still allows him his fun.

While Johnny relies on Ghost to let him know when he’s “too much” or taking things too far,—allows himself to be muzzled. Making a point to let Simon have the control, at least every now and then. Of course, while challenging Ghost’s authority a healthy amount and protesting the whole time.

Both try to be as respectful as possible of the other’s needs and desires, while also "maintaining their roles". But both are effectively switches, whether it's in the bedroom or not, and mainly put up this dom and sub act for other people and for their own amusement. They have no fixed roles, truly.

SOAP BEING JUST AS MENTALLY FUCKED AS GHOST MY BELOVED

thanks for coming to my Ted talk

(Also, the tidbit about Soap snapping a recruit’s thumb in half is actually based on a family member of mine’s story. Basically, my older sister had this guy pour water down the back of her shirt in high school, and in response, she straight up broke his thumb/snapped it in half lmao).

[poppadom0912]

The best babysitters

Warnings: Mentions of absent father but all fluff

Summary: Work prevents you from going home one night, thankfully you’ve got the best backup in Chicago.

A/N: This is being posted later than I planned. My mum was in hospital and it gave me a scare but she's all recovered now so here this is. This is in celebration of 1k, a few more will follow as my workload has decreased significantly.

This fic exists in the same world as my other fic ‘older sister’ but can also be read as a stand alone.

You were tired.

Work was beyond busy today and your clients were being unnecessarily stressful. All you wanted now was to go home, relieve your babysitter of her duties and enjoy the night in with your daughter.

It seemed that the universe had some sort of vendetta against you though because just as you were putting the finishing signatures on the last few papers, an intern, a woman you saw earlier at reception, came running into your office slightly out of breath.

You wanted to scream.

Letting the poor intern talk, you smiled at her stiffly, dismissing her after saying you’d make your way. There was no way you could ask your babysitter to stay late for God knows how much longer, you could remember her telling you she has a lecture tomorrow morning.

Getting up from your desk, you sighed, screwing your eyes closed when you caught the time on your phone. Your sigh in defeat could probably be heard all across Chicago.

Walking out your office, the sound of your heels filled out the empty space, majority of the firm had gone home, only a few stragglers staying behind to close up on any loose ends.

Turning your phone on, you ignored the several notifications screaming for your attention and went straight to your contacts.

Your phone only rang twice before the person on the receiving end picked up.

“Hey Will, can you do me the biggest favour please… You’re a life saviour, thanks, I owe you one.”

Hanging up the phone, you stared ahead through the windows at the bustling waiting room, raised angry voices overlapping and bleeding though the walls.

You could already feel your headache intensifying.

*****

Using his spare key, Will entered your house. Shuffling inside, he took off his jacket and shoes as usual.

Hearing the front door open, little pattering feet were immediately heard running across the house. Will smiled at the sound that he didn’t hear often due to all of your demanding jobs.

“Mama! Mama oh-“

The immense joy on Harper’s face disappeared as the nearly two-year-old rounded the corner on her little chubby legs, expecting to see her beloved mother who she missed all day only to suddenly be met with her redheaded uncle.

“Well hello to you too miss Harper.” Will smiled down at his niece nonetheless, crouching down to scoop her into his arms to which she didn’t argue and instead welcomed.

As soon as she was safe in his arms, the toothiest, giddiest smile broke out on her chubby face that was so scarily identical to yours that it could only be explained by witchcraft.

Harper giggled, such a sound making Will forget about all the horrors that stained his day from the emergency department.

“Hi!” She exclaimed, her smile remained upright and never faltered. “Hi!”

And soon after, she pressed her open mouth onto his stubbly cheek, her attempt of a kiss. Despite struggling with the tough task and all the slobber that remained on his cheek, Will’s reaction was instant and wouldn’t change for the world.

“Oh, thank you so much Harper! Uncle Will missed you tons. Look at how big you’ve grown!”

But, before Will could have all his focus solely on his adorable niece, the sound of the front door unlocking diverted his attention.

Lo and behold, Jay casually strolled in as though this was another random Tuesday.

Oh, that son of a b-

Harper’s scream that followed definitely burst Will’s eardrums.

Will winced, tipping his head away to protect his ears from any further damage before turning to glare at his brother who was taking his jacket off.

"What are you-"

"You said we'd meet at Molly's for a drink but you weren't there." Jay cut Will off, a smile on his face as he looked at Harper and spoke without looking in Will's direction. "Natalie told me you were here."

"Jay Jay's jealous Harper." Will said, his tone all factual and matter-of-fact as he looked at the toddler in his arms. "He didn't want to miss out."

Jay didn't even try to look offended or hurt by Will's remark because deep down, it was somewhat true because how could Jay let Will have all the fun by himself?

"Stop hogging her you buffoon and let me hold her." Jay told Will, not waiting for a reply as he moved forward and took Harper into his arms, the girl didn't protest nor did she willingly lean forward.

"What- Uh, I've literally been here for five minutes Jay."

"Am I your favourite uncle? I knew it!"

*****

Following Jay’s sudden and unprompted arrival, Will dismissed your babysitter, paying her what you usually did and a little more as compensation for staying so late.

Once she had left, there wasn’t much left around the house for them to do besides turning the dishwasher on and making Harper’s nightly milks, but it wasn’t her bedtime just yet and maybe if time permitted it, Harper could stay up a little beyond her usual bedtime.

Consider it a small treat for this special circumstance without her mother implementing her strict nighttime routine.

While Will was sorting away the finals bits in the kitchen, Jay easily made himself comfortable in the living room while Harper continued to babble nonsensically, a few discernible words welcomed themselves into the mix. Jay allowed himself to take a second to relish in the moment, trying to prevent himself from having an existential crisis as he realised he was both emotional but also proud of how much she was growing.

“Dada, look look! S’ Dada!”

Moment ruined, Jay’s smile instantly fell.

Jay followed the direction of Harper’s index finger to the tv, his face hardening at the sight of the man who failed his fiancée and his baby who just turned one.

Harper's 'dad' was a television reporter and it had totally slipped his mind that this was the channel he worked for. Seeing his stupid face yap away about the news made his blood boil.

Jay changed the channel without a second thought.

Your ex fiancé had suddenly decided to leave on Harper’s first birthday, not even having the decency to at least show up at her birthday party.

A year later, and Harper still remembered the man whose name was her first word.

It devastated you still to this day what he had done and Harper’s random interjections of ‘dada’ only made the wound deeper.

“Dada isn’t here harper.” Jay said, tone as soft as it could be as he tried to explain it without her crying.

“It’s just uncle Jay and Will, and mama will be home soon.” Jay continued, holding the toddler in his lap so there was no chance of her running away crying.

Luckily, Harper was a mummy’s girl through and through, so despite the large absence of her father, simply mentioning ‘mama’ or anything akin to that made her entire face light up in a way that no one else could.

“Okay Halstead’s, listen up!” Will said as he entered the living room, phone in one and a towel in the other.

“Y/N’s saying it’s mostly likely going to be another two hours minimum so we’re most likely going to have to stay over.” Will told Jay specifically before looking down at Harper.

“You wanna get into your PJ’s Harps? Jay Jay can make you some milk.”

And despite her highly energised state, Harper would never turn down the enticing combination of her pyjamas and warm milk.

Crawling out of Jay’s lap, Harper moved towards Will who in turn of carrying her gave Jay the towel he was holding. And as much as Jay wanted to fight his brother, he knew Will had more experience with kids - i.e. Owen - and so he could gladly change her diaper.

With Will and Harper standing over him, brown eyes wide, glinting with a hidden intent Jay had become familiar with since childhood. It really wasn’t fair that you and Will both had your father’s eyes which Harper just had to inherit. Jay found himself useless and always surrendering to those goddamn eyes, even as the youngest sibling.

Whenever Jay remembered his childhood, it never made sense why the two older siblings never folded as easily when he looked up at them with the biggest, most imploring eyes. Even now, three decades later, and not a single thing had changed.

“Okay, okay! Just stop looking at me like that.” As soon as Jay spoke, the two rejoiced, their happiness still discernible even as they made their way upstairs.

“Let’s get this party started then.”

*****

And so party they did.

Well at least according to Harper’s standards.

The night started off with warm drinks - Harper with her milk while Will and Jay spoiled themselves to the expensive coffee beans that you easily could afford but neither your brothers indulged in unless under your roof.

Following this, Harper had a short but very fun time running around with sudden newfound energy, causing as much havoc as humanly possible for anyone her size.

It was safe to say that she tired herself quite quickly.

As Jay opened himself and Will a beer, he walked back into the living room, his eyes landing on his older brother and niece, the younger scrunched up into a little ball on Will's chest. Her face completely relaxed and arms wrapped around his torso as she snored quietly.

"Now this, after today, is my kinda party."

"Amen." Will agreed, tapping his bottle with Jay's as a silent 'cheers'.

Jay settled besides his brother, both of them staring forward at the muted movie Harper randomly chose, the first she watched that didn't have any princess affiliations.

"Gosh, it feels like years since we last babysat her." Will said, a sombre but nostalgic tone lacing his words.

"It does." Jay hummed as he swallowed his beer. "We're all so busy with work we can hardly make time for each other."

Will scoffed. "I see you almost everyday, strolling casually into the ED like you own the freaking place. Who are you kidding?"

Jay rolled his eyes but agreed nonetheless.

"Yeah, we need to visit more often. Make more effort and take out the time."

The silence that followed was filled by Harpers little snores and the occasional sound of a siren blaring past in the distance.

"I'm so tired I could knock out right here on the floor."

"Don't be such a doofus, go put her down in her bed."

"Aye aye captain."

*****

When you finally returned home three hours later, tired beyond belief. You were so close to dropping to the floor as soon as you locked the door but as you ventured into the house, you were met with the most heart warming sight.

On the floor in the living room remained your two younger brothers and your daughter. Harper was still scrunched up in a ball on Will's chest, her hand clutching his shirt while said man had his face leaning forward into her hair, his breaths causing Harper's curl to move occasionally. Jay sat besides them, hands crossed slightly on his lap and his head tipped backwards, resting on the sofa.

Even as your eyes burned with the need for sleep, you took a few pictures of the scene before you, your smile not going till your head met your pillow.

If Jay and Will woke up with sore necks in the morning, there was a very seasoned doctor in the house for a reason.

[dpspcehntr]

Ooh I just came from ur nsfw hc asks (is it still okay to send one though..?? ignore this if not) and I lowk wanna share a brainrot about Zayne making you wear his glasses when doing the nastiest weewow ever (bonus points if it ends up really fogged up after) ♪～(´ε｀　) maybe I'm just pretty insane for characters with glasses but ooh lawdie that man makes me worship the ground he's walkin on (ˊ˘ˋ*)

As someone who wears glasses…exactly 😭🔥

Send me your NSFW head cannons/thoughts/confessions about the LADS boys and I’ll write a little something for you 💖

Warning: handjob ,oral (m receiving), face fucking, cum eating, cum play (if you squint), glasses kink, just pure filth, I got carried away

Tonight was one of your numerous nightly visits to Zayne at the hospital. With a few hours to kill between surgeries he invited you over to see him. You already knew what that meant and you can’t help but admit its gone right down south. Your underwear feels slick with anticipation as you open his office door.

“Hello Dr. Zayne. You wanted to see me?”

He looks up from the pile of paperwork on his desk and takes you in. A smile is on your lips as you approach him. He watches you with low eyes as you sit down to face him in his lap. His hands instantly slide onto your hips as he leans up for a kiss. You place your hands on either side of his face and pull him in for a kiss.

“Wasting no time are we, Dr. Zayne?”

He blushes a deeper shade of red and clears his throat.

“You knew exactly what my message meant. You wouldn’t be here otherwise, Miss Hunter.”

You scoff and pull him into another kiss which he deepens by pulling you closer to him. Your hands slide up into his hair and his grip on your hips tightens. The kiss turns heated until you’re both panting and desperate. You pull apart for air, his glasses covered in fog. By impulse you pull them off his face and put them on your face.

“Wait, don’t take them off.”

You give him a curious look as he blushes a deeper shade of pink. Usually Zayne was very cool, calm, and collected but something you’re doing has him loosing it by the second.

“Is, is it the glasses?”

He adverts his gaze and looks at the floor.

“Yes. Can you keep them on please?”

An idea pops into your head and you slide off his lap onto the floor under his desk.

“As the doctor orders.”

Before he can ask you start unbuckling his pants and take him out of his boxers. A hand instantly flys to his mouth to keep quiet as you slowly pump him in your hands. His muffled moans go straight to your core as you take him in your mouth. You take your time licking and sucking him as he falls apart above you. He slides his hands into your hair and scoots to the edge of the chair. He slowly starts to thrust himself in and out of your mouth. You hum in satisfaction around him as he picks up the pace. Your underwear now soaked through as he continues to fuck your face. Precum leaks down your throat you can feel he’s close. He pulls himself out of your mouth and pumps himself right in front of your face. Before long he blows his load over your face, cum hitting his glasses and your lips. He grunts as he comes down, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. When he comes to he looks down at you as you swipe his cum up on your finger and put it in your mouth. You suck it off your finger and release it with a pop. If he wasn’t so fucked out he would be hard all over again.

“Your turn, Miss Hunter.”

[cinamintyy]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a small request? I was thinking of Capitano with an s/o who’s a dragon? Like just a normal dragon that can turn into a human(like Nuvulett<don’t remember how to spell my hydro dragons name) and there the last of there kind?(By that I mean born a dragon and went into hiding because of over hunting also By dragon form look at the dragons from House of the dragon for some inspo) how do you think he’d react to seeing his s/o’s dragon form for the first time and having a flight? Lest not forget to deep snoring…if not that’s alright I just wanted to put this out there.

Capitano has me in a chokehold I swear

Capitano x Dragon reader:

A/N:Sry this is late, but I love this idea sm. I'm just clearing out my inbox for these next days.

CW: Dragon reader, hybrid reader, minor character death.

It was cruel how all of those you knew were taken from you, simply for sport. Killed and taken apart for wings or horns as trophies. You saw all this happening and decided this would not happen to you, so you hid, amongst the humans. You hid any feature that would identify to those hunters you were a dragon, something the rest of your kind couldn't or refused to do. You wouldn't end up hanging on the wall, so you abandoned who you used to be. You didn't have a home, but you eventually decided to settle in Natlan. The pilgrimage wasn't an interest of yours it never was, either way, you weren't from Natlan so you couldn't join. For the stories you told and how wise you were, I mean, you did live a few hundred years. The smaller children especially enjoyed your "made-up" stories of dragons and flying through the sky at extremely high altitudes and speeds. To be fair, your life was going pretty peaceful.

One day, you were at a bar just to get a quick drink when this larger-than-average man who was fully covered in armour sat next to you and ordered a drink. He piqued your curiosity, so you started small talk, but it's safe to say he was a brick wall. You continued to have determination and persisted in talking to him. Capitano was honestly impressed at your persistence and decided to humor you. You both met at the same bar every day to talk. He loved the wise energy you emanated. To be honest, he became smitten, he loved seeking you for advice. But one thing that ate at you was the fact Capitano didn't know the actual you. The fact you were a dragon, the closer you both, the bigger the urge you had to tell him was. You need stress relief and what better way to relieve yourself than to take flight? Just the way you used to, at the very same heights and altitudes. What you didn't know was Capitano knew something was wrong, to him you acted 'odd' and kinda standoffish. He was about to visit you so he could what was up with you when he saw you headed somewhere else. Which just so you know this was at night so it was quite odd, he decided that instead of asking you where you were heading he would just follow you. Secretive? He knew, but what if someone was harming you and you were keeping it secret from him? If it was harmless he would leave knowing you were fine. You decided to take a quick fly around the outskirts of Natlan at night, if any people saw you they would just be seen as having a screw loose. C'mon, this was Natlan, the only place where someone would most likely just see a dragon flying around was Mondstadt. Unbeknownst to you, Capitano saw the whole thing, from you transforming, to you flying, and to you landing back down. You had only realized he saw you afterward. "I apologize, I feel as though I've intruded on you, you've been acting quite odd as of late, and I thought I should follow you to make sure no one was hurting you. I truly apologize I was too forward in my actions." He said to you bowing slightly to show how apologetic he was. You cursed yourself for being so careless silently before replying. "It's alright you had good intentions, either way, you were going to find out one way or another. I am, as you can see, a dragon." Capitano stared in silence before finding his words "A beautiful one I might add, I quite enjoyed seeing you soar through the air." You blushed at the words, "So you're not angry that I've kept such a secret from you?" You asked. "Goodness no, it's understandable why one would keep such a thing, but I'm glad I now know." You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Perhaps one day you should take me out flying, I think I'd enjoy it." He said proposing an idea for a next date.

Perhaps you would take him outside flying, you think you would enjoy it as well.

[sky-high-standards]

Crazy confused Yandere x Reader

He always had a few screws loose but after you his mind was long gone~

He was the guy you'd always avoid the one that people just felt off about so he didn't have a lot of friends, but he liked it that was it was amusing to see how people would walk away or run when he was near it gave him a strange thrill but with you it was different.

You were the new kid and unfortunately you just happened to bump into him which caught him by surprise because no one would ever go that near him and if they did, they'd be running by now...

You just quickly apologized and smiled awkwardly while he looked at you very confused was there something wrong with you or something no one has smiled at him in a long time you then explained how you were new and needed help to get to the art classroom he pointed at the direction of the classroom still giving you a weird look as you thanked him and cheerfully went into the class he thought he wouldn't have to see you again but you just kept popping up and he hated it that annoying smile of yours why couldn't he get it out of his head why are you stuck in his head and maybe his heart your sweet voice always playing in his head was agony he couldn't take these feelings so the only resort was to kill you that had to get you out of his head right?

He observed you to find a way to kill you but as he watched you he slowly grew more obsessed with you your adorable habits the way you'd like up when you got a good grade the way you'd smile at him when you caught him staring made him burst into every shade of red.

He had so many chances to take your life so many golden opportunities to kill you but he couldn't bring himself to so instead he kidnapped you. You two would be amazing together he'd take care of you and you'd love him back right? Ofc you would its either him or you die...

yep sry this was trashy send requests plz guys

[chvoswxtch]

part three: the camera

[series masterlist] | [previous part] | [part four]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: if the police can't help, who can you turn to?

warnings: swearing, billy is still a cocky lil shit, explicit sexual content (minors dni), billy is also a lil perv, voyeurism (noncon), mutual masturbation

word count: 3.1k

a/n: y'all can thank @thyme-in-a-bubble for this one. this entire part was born from a slutty conversation we had about billy being a sneaky lil perv. this is just a taste of the treats to come. ;) (pun intended) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Sitting on your couch, watching several of Billy’s men come in and out of your apartment, you’d nearly bitten your nails down to the quick. The sound of holes being drilled and nails being hammered seemed to be amplified in your ears, making you feel as though those screws and nails were being driven into your own brain. Annie gently placed her hand on your knee, trying to quell the relentless bouncing, and then reached over to pull your hand you’d been gnawing on away from your anxious mouth, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You know, for two women living alone in New York City, having security cameras isn’t such a bad idea.”

Having the security cameras installed should have made you feel better, and on one hand it did, but on the other it just made you feel extremely guilty, because if it wasn’t for the ghost haunting you from your past, they wouldn’t be necessary. To her credit, Annie was doing her best to not outwardly show how scared she was herself. She’d been by your side ever since Adam was murdered, she went with you to the police after the call from Roman, and she was here with you now, trying to keep you calm even though you could see it in her eyes that she was freaked out too.

Billy was standing by the front door, speaking to one of his men with a stern expression on his face. He showed up with a team of his guys first thing this morning, brought all the necessary tools and equipment, and commanded each of them with strict instructions. He was making rounds, checking each of his men’s work on the different cameras with intense scrutiny, checking various angles from the video feed on his iPad to ensure there were as few blind spots as possible, and making sure there were no loose wires or connections.

Derek walked through the front door, focused solely on Billy as he approached him. The shirt he was wearing made his eyes look more green than blue today. His eyes had been what first attracted Annie to him. Well, that and the rest of his tanned Greek God-esque physique. But she always gushed about how she thought he had the most perfect smolder look naturally. Permanent bedroom eyes.

To you though, it just looked like the sun was always in his face. Or like he’d forgotten his contacts and couldn’t see something far away.

“Cameras outside are secure and operational.”

Billy’s dark brown eyes flickered up to look at Derek. He gave him a faint nod and went back to typing something on his iPad screen. Derek ran one of his tan hands through his messy blonde hair, turning his attention towards you and Annie sitting on the couch. He walked over and bent down to press a kiss to Annie’s forehead, placing his hand on the back of her head.

“Y’all alright?”

“Yeah. Thank you for doing this.”

“Of course, baby.”

Derek’s gaze flickered over to you, noticing the zoned out look on your face. He reached over and gave your shoulder a light reassuring squeeze, capturing your attention. There was an easy smile on his lips as he nodded in your direction.

“It’s gonna be alright. Don’t worry your pretty little head. Son of a bitch has a better chance of breachin’ the Pentagon than this place.”

Unable to stop yourself, you let out a soft snort and shook your head in slight amusement. Derek was so easy going it was almost annoying. He had that Matthew McConaughey drawl and aura of coolness about him, like nothing could ever disturb his laidback nature. It made you wonder what he was like in the military. Was he still all calm and collected in the middle of warfare?

Arching one of your brows, there was a tiny smile on your lips as you looked up at Derek.

“The Pentagon? Not the White House bunker?”

“Hey, doin’ what we can on short notice.”

Derek gave you a confident grin and flashed Annie a wink before walking over to check with the guy working on the door.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Turning your head to look up when Billy called your name, he motioned you over with his index and middle finger. Letting go of Annie’s hand, you got up and walked over to where he was standing, looking up at him curiously. He moved to stand right beside you and held out the iPad, allowing you to see the screen as he switched between all the different camera feeds.

“Alright you got five cameras. Kitchen, living room, front door, front of the building, and alley behind the building. We took out the physical lock on the front door and replaced it with an electronic keypad. No chance of anyone pickin’ a lock, gotta have a code to get in the door.”

You watched as Billy shuffled through the different camera feeds. They had a pretty wide range of coverage, able to move up and down, and from left to right. The only blind spot seemed to be with the camera on the front door; there wasn’t a view of the elevator or stairwells. Your apartment was right in the middle of the hall, so those viewpoints were too far for the camera’s range.

“Derek put an app on yours and Annie’s phones that allows you to check the cameras at all times, no matter where you are. He and I got the same one on our phones, and I got a team of people back at Anvil surveilling the footage twenty-four seven.”

Turning your head to look up at him, a soft crease formed between your brows.

“You mean someone is going to be watching us on those cameras all the time?”

Sensing your apprehension, Billy turned to look down at you, looking like the playful version of himself you were used to for the first time all morning.

“They’re gonna be lookin’ for trouble, mainly keepin’ watch on the front and back of the building, and the front door. Only reason they got to watch the feed in here is if someone tries to tamper with the lock, or tries to beat the door down.”

Seeing your eyes widen at that last statement, Billy set the iPad aside and gently grabbed your shoulders, ducking his head to meet your eye level.

“Relax, no one’s gonna do that, alright? It’s a pretty damn thick door.”

Letting out a deep exhale past your lips, the tension in your body slowly deflated, and you absentmindedly placed one of your hands on top of Billy’s as you glanced around your apartment that was crowded with his employees.

“So, you do payment plans?”

Turning to look up at Billy, you noticed he arched one of his dark brows as he looked down at you in confusion.

“Payment plans?”

“I know none of this stuff is cheap-”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that.”

“Billy-”

“I mean it. You ain’t payin’ for none of this, alright? You can argue with me til you’re blue in the face ‘bout anything else, but not this.”

Giving him a pointed look while crossing your arms over your chest, Billy mirrored your expression and body language, the two of you in a silent standoff. Rolling your eyes, you shook your head as you looked around your apartment once again before looking back up at him.

“You have to let me do something.”

Billy’s lips instantly spread into a wicked smirk, and you gawked at him before letting out a dry amused scoff, lightly smacking your hand against his chest. Billy’s sharp features twisted into an expression of faux anguish, placing his hand over the spot you’d smacked him.

“Ow, what? I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. God, you are so transparent.”

Billy let out a deep chuckle as his lips split open into a wide grin, and he slipped his hands into his pockets as he stared down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I think you’re the one with your head in the gutter, sweetheart. I was just gonna say some company for coffee would be nice, but hey if you got somethin’ else in mind-”

“Shut up, Russo.”

Trying to fight your amused smile, you looked away from him and shook your head while attempting so hard not to laugh. At your side, Billy was snickering, still trying to maintain his look of faux innocence. 

When you turned your head to look up at him again, you narrowed your eyes lightheartedly and cocked your head to the side.

“What happened to not wanting to end up ‘gutted in some alley’?”

“I never said it was gonna be a date.”

Immediately your cheeks flushed slightly with heat. Because of his flirty nature, and the fact that he’d been trying to fuck you since he met you, when he mentioned getting coffee, you just assumed he was trying to ask you out. Catching the way your face quickly shifted into a concoction of confusion and embarrassment, Billy’s dark eyes roved over you as he flashed you a cocky grin.

“I mean if you wanna go out with me that bad, all you had to do was say so.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Billy let out a bark of laughter at the annoyed expression on your face and the dryness of your voice, watching in amusement as you rolled your eyes and shook your head at him. He could see the way the edges of your lips twitched, fighting your urge to smile and laugh. As much as you hated to admit, you were grateful for Billy’s presence lately. He had a way of making you feel lighter in such a heavy situation.

Billy stood by your side with his hands in his pockets, glancing around your apartment, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips as he spoke.

“So, Friday?”

»»———　　———««

Billy was working late tonight at Anvil, trying to get a few last minute things done for an upcoming business deal. His large desk, which was usually neat and tidy, was covered in a plethora of contracts to be reviewed, reports from the latest operation involving a D.A. candidate, and a file he’d managed to retrieve on you from a contact in Woodsboro PD. 

You had told him your version of your past, but you hadn’t gone into explicit detail. After reading the contents of the police report, the medical report from the hospital, and the full document of the restraining order, he understood why. Beneath your file was one on Roman Walker, nearly as thick as his thumb. But the one on the left side of his desk labeled ‘The Woodsboro Murders 96’ was almost as thick as the book next to it with the same title by Gale Weathers.

He was in the middle of reviewing some paperwork when an alert went off on his phone. Absentmindedly, he glanced over at the new notification.

Bedroom Activity.

Immediately he put his pen and the paperwork down, swiping his phone off his desk. After typing in the passcode to unlock it, he clicked on the notification, and a live camera feed popped up of a bedroom.

Your bedroom.

Was it a complete invasion of privacy to have hidden a camera in your bedroom? Yeah. Did he regret it? No. He’d justified it in his head that he was just trying to keep you safe, although he definitely had ulterior motives for doing it. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt.

Seeing you walk out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, your hair damp and skin glistening with droplets, Billy let out a hum of appreciation in the back of his throat. He tilted his phone horizontally, the feed expanding to fit his entire screen, and he leaned back in his office chair. Just the sight of you fresh out of the shower in a towel was enough to make his cock twitch.

He should’ve exited out of the feed right then. He should’ve locked his phone and gotten back to work, knowing you were about to be removing that towel to dry off, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable in front of a camera you didn’t even know existed. That would’ve been the gentlemanly thing to do.

But Billy Russo was no gentleman.

Instead, his eyes widened with delight and he bit down on his bottom lip, letting out a groan when you unwrapped the towel and started to dry off before wringing your wet hair out with it. Billy had imagined you naked several times since he first met you that night in the bar, but God the real thing was so much better. His eyes darkened with hunger as they roamed over your body, drinking in your exposed flesh.

Those hips and thighs he desperately wanted to grab onto with your legs wrapped around his waist, those soft breasts he wanted to watch bounce as you rode him, that incredible ass he wanted to smack while he fucked you from behind. He was practically salivating as he watched you sit on the edge of your bed and massage lotion onto your damp skin, something he would’ve eagerly volunteered to do. He was already half hard just watching you go about your nightly routine, his hand snaking down to palm the bulge in his pants while you brushed out your wet hair, letting out a quiet groan of relief.

Billy figured your next move was to get dressed, and that his private little show would soon be over, but what you did next surprised him.

He watched you lay back against your pillows, close your eyes, and he saw your chest rise and fall as you took a deep breath. His eyes were glued to your hands, watching as you brought them up to your breasts, cupping them and giving them a soft squeeze, your lips parting as you brushed your thumb over your nipples that had begun to peak.

“Oh, fuck.”

Billy palmed himself a little harder through his pants, feeling his heart rate quicken and his breathing get heavier as he watched you toy with your nipples and grope your own breasts. His dark brown irises were nearly blown open with lust watching you slip your hand down your stomach, your thighs parting like the gates of heaven, giving him a perfect view of your glistening pussy. 

“Christ, sweetheart.”

He was already unbuckling his belt with one hand as you started to glide your fingers through your wetness, watching your face contort with pleasure and relief. You were going slow, taking your time as you coated your fingers in your own arousal before starting to rub lazy circles around your clit. You seemed to be teasing yourself, one of your fingers languidly playing with your clit while your other hand continued to toy with one of your nipples.

Billy had his pants and briefs shoved down his thighs in a flash, spitting in his palm before wrapping his hand around his cock and starting to stroke slowly, keeping up with your pace. You seemed to like it slow, and to enjoy a bit of teasing. He’d remember that. He clicked on the button to unmute the feed, allowing the sweet sounds of your pleasure to fill his silent office. He also zoomed in to give himself a better view of what you were doing. He didn’t want to miss anything.

His mouth was open and he was slightly panting as he kept pace with you, barely even blinking as he savored the delectable sight on his phone. He watched the way your hips shifted upwards off the bed when you spread yourself open and slipped a finger into your soaked cunt, and he grunted.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

Billy was fucking mesmerized by you. His dark eyes kept flickering between the way you pumped your finger inside yourself while strumming your clit with your thumb, how you squeezed your breast tightly in your free hand, and the sight of your eyes closed and mouth hanging open, face contorted in pure pleasure. The sounds you were making were driving him absolutely insane. When you started to move your hand faster, he started to stroke his cock faster, squeezing the base everytime he twisted his wrist upwards.

“Oh you’re gonna come, aren’t you pretty girl?”

Watching you roll your hips upwards against your own hand while you pleasured yourself was making Billy feral, and he was fisting his throbbing cock even harder, pumping furiously to match your pace. He didn’t want to come yet though. He didn’t want to miss a second of seeing what you looked like when you climaxed. 

“C’mon sweetheart, let me see how pretty you look when you come.”

His eyes were glued to his phone screen, grasping it so tightly in his other hand that his knuckles had turned stark white. He felt his own thighs tensing up, a bead of sweat forming along his hairline. When he saw the way your body tensed up and your eyes screwed shut, your hand that had been on your breast flying out to grip the sheets as you curled forward slightly, your breathless and high pitched noises turning into a louder and more sensual series of satisfied moans, Billy couldn’t hold himself back.

He came hard with a loud and animalistic grunt, thick ropes spurting rapidly from his weeping tip like exploding fireworks, soaking through his crisp white button up to the point the fabric was stuck to his lower stomach and translucent. He let his head fall back against his office chair, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he had come so hard.

He definitely had never seen anything as fucking beautiful and erotic as the sight of you coming undone. He couldn’t wait to experience that in person.

Dragging his other palm down his face and dark beard, he then ran it through his gelled back raven strands, glancing down at his phone that hand landed on his thigh in the midst of his orgasm. Picking it up again, he watched as you laid in bed with a blissful look on your face, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your own breath. He licked his lips, grazing his teeth along his bottom before smirking wickedly.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. I love to watch you work.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @nolita-fairytale @oliviaewl @r1kk @unlikelystarlightcowboy @imperihoe-writes @dumb-fawkin-bitch @merc12-us @moonyinthestars @sweetttart

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