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hoshifighting · 9 months ago

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Racer!Reader x Racer!Mingyu 一 Rivals to Lovers

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

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

WC: 8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now, the moment has arrived.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s odd, almost synchronized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

The box, with his things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?" one of them asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mingyu’s is smug. “I know I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

And you were, for real.

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

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

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

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

“Where. Are. You.”

“Hell, I’m at my dorm, wassup?”

“Open the door,” you demanded.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

''R-right here! Please!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But seriously, Mingyu, your bed—"

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

Letting the image speak for itself.

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

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

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

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

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

But you don't bother to check it.

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absdoll · 1 year ago

Note

drug dealer! ellie!! reader’s brother is a usual customer of hers but he’s busy or whatever so he asks reader to go pick it up 😈🤭

cw: car sex ♡ , kinda player!ellie , mentions of weed & smoking it , strap sucking (e!rev) , strap sitting (r!rec) <3 that’s it !

also songs are linked throughout this , just to add to the dealer!ellie hot car sex ambiance hehe ♡

“dude, can you stop being such a fucking baby and just go?!” your brother hisses at you, frantically packing for his soccer match. “if i get home from this game and i don’t have anything to smoke, i’m beating your ass.” he rolls his eyes as he walks out of the door, “i’ll text you her address and let her know you’re coming, don’t fuck this up.”

ellie. ellie williams. ellie auburnettetattedsofuckinghot williams. the scrawny masc you’ve had a crush on since junior year of high school. you’ve maybe said 5 words to each other, in passing when she glares at you with her hazel eyes, making you squeeze your thighs together. “sup?” she’ll nonchalantly throw at you, not knowing you go home and ride your fingers to the sound of her voice.

your phone buzzes as you’re about to get in your car, an unknown number.

8:29pm “yooo, u on the way? i got somewhere to be”

“ohmyfuckinggod” you mutter under your breath. you manically type a response, not even thinking before pressing send.

8:31pm “yeah! be there soon sorry!”

8:34pm “all good cutie”

the butterflies in your stomach are swarming. as if you weren’t already nervous to face your going on 4 year crush, she just … flirted..? with you? it’ll be a miracle if you even survive the drive over there.

you pull up to an apartment complex, the 3rd floor balcony lit up with purple LED lights. your phone buzzes again.

8:59pm “this u?”

you look back up to the balcony, now seeing a lanky figure in a black tank top, grey sweatpants, batman socks, and a black beanie leaning over the railing. she nods her head up at you, and you can just hear her silky smooth voice saying “sup?”, but this time you can’t relieve the pressure between your legs.

9:00pm “do i come up there or??”

it’s been 5 minutes since you sent that text.

before you know it, there’s a subtle knock on ur passenger window. it’s dark outside, no streetlights in the parking lot, but you knew it was ellie. you unlock the door, and she dips her head in, slouching down into the seat next to you.

ellie smirks, eyeing you up and down, noticing the way your thighs erupt in goosebumps at her stare. you’re wearing black denim shorts and a black tube top, ellie’s eyes immediately falling to your collarbones.

“it’s $35” she says in a low tone, handing you a sealed ziploc bag.

your fingertips touch her hand as you grab it from her, causing you to choke on your words, “c-cool, thanks” you smile at her, feeling like your nerves are gonna make you pass out at any second.

ellie’s so calm and collected, watching you nervously fumble with your wallet trying to retrieve the cash your brother gave you. and god, she smells so good. her scent is intoxicating. vanilla mixed with musk and sugar and leather.

all of a sudden you feel her hand fall on your thigh. “nervous or something?” she teases. she grabs at the jelly flesh with one hand and pulls a joint out of her pocket with her right hand. you audibly let a big sigh fall from your mouth when her hand leaves to light her joint. ellie passes the burning paper to you, and you don’t smoke so you’re just holding it, contemplating to make yourself look cool by taking a puff. she’s adjusting her sweatpants — and that’s when you notice it. the thick bulge outlined in her pants, her eyes fluttering up to yours.

“wanna sit on it?” she chuckles, grabbing the joint from your hand. you can’t tell if she’s serious or not, so you just giggle back.

“open up.” ellie takes a long drag, yellowish smoke filling her mouth.

you’re confused, but in an effort to not embarrass yourself, you open your mouth. ellie’s face now inches away from yours, her eyes staring deep into your nervous gaze. she blows the thick smoke into your mouth, “inhale.” she whispers.

within a minute, your nerves have subsided and you feel lighter. ellie watches as you shift in your seat, putting your hands under your thighs. “are you cold? i’m cold. do you care if i turn the a/c off?” you ramble at ellie. she smirks, “first time smoking?”

you roll your eyes at her, the car quieter now without the buzz of the air conditioning. “you ever heard of a hotbox?” ellie says, shifting her body towards you. you shake your head ‘no’ and ellie just giggles. “c’mere” she motions for you to sit on her lap.

“w-what? why?” you spit out, embarrassed immediately.

“your eyes haven’t left my crotch since you noticed my cock that’s tucked in my pants. if you want it, jus’ c’mere.” she hits the joint again, blowing smoke towards your face.

she adjusts her seat, making room by her feet for you sit on the floor. you’re on your knees, looking up at her with reddened eyes.

“go ‘head, take it out” she lowly mutters to you, not even looking at you, she’s preoccupied by trying to connect her bluetooth to your car speaker.

your shaky hands move to the band of her sweatpants, sliding them down just enough for her purple, curved, silicone strap to plop out onto her lap.

her eyes dart to yours, grinning at the look of amazement on your face.

ellie uses one hand to wrap around the back of your neck, guiding your head closer to her crotch, the other hand twisting the volume nozzle up, speakers blaring. “open your mouth angel” she breathes out. as your lips part, she swipes her thumb across your bottom pout, slipping the tip of her cock towards the back of your throat. her hand moves up to grab a fistful of your hair, “gooooood, good job baby” she praises.

as ellie bobs your head up and down, you start moaning around her girth. “mmm you like this baby? like my cock deep in your throat? dirty girl.” you nod up at her, causing her to throw her head back.

ellie’s one hand atop your head, other hand typing on her dimly lit phone screen. “gotta make this quick, told you i had somewhere to be.” she throws her phone into the backseat, moving both hands to the back of your neck. her thrusts are quick and steady, grunts falling from her chapped lips.

“mm fuck, you’re drooling b-baby” she half chuckles and half stutters, the base of her strap striking her clit. “uuuuuhhh fuuuuuck” she breathes out.

“f-fuck, get on top.” ellie grabs you by your hair, hands moving to your hips, setting you down slowly on her long, wet member.

“o-ooh s-shit-uuhhhh” you moan out, the feeling of her thickness sliding deep inside you. her hands still groping your ass, slamming you up and down on her length. “bounce on it baby.” she grunts out as she pulls your tube top down, revealing your fatty tits.

ellie moves her hands to behind her head. watching as your boobs slap against your chest. your moans barely audible as the rap song fills the car, “lemme hear you, l-louder” she’s doing little to no work, her hips every once and awhile bucking up into you, which causes you to yelp and ellie lets out a chuckle.

“mm-ahh ellieeeeuuhhggh” “f-feels s’fucking gooduuuhhh” you’re practically screaming at this point, ellie’s eyes filled with darkness and lust, just watching as you fuck yourself on her cock.

your legs start to shake, inner thighs sore from relentlessly pounding your pussy on ellie’s strap. “need help baby?” ellie wraps her arms around your waist, lifting her hips up. she stops her movements, grinning as you whine from sudden lack of friction.

ellie stuffs her cock deep inside you, watching her girth move in and out of you, agonizingly slow. “m-more ellie p-please” you’re whining and she takes it as her cue to vigorously thrust up into you.

“ommm-mm-g-go-god-dduuuhhh” with every slam of ellie’s hips, your moans get louder.

you start cumming all over ellie’s cock, her dark red bush covered in your slick.

your high is dizzying, you open your eyes in a tired, fucked out state to see ellie, again, typing a text on her phone.

she pats your ass, “that was hot baby, but i gotta go.” as you slide yourself off her lap, falling into your seat and pulling your shorts back up, ellie goes to open the car door. “tell your brother you’ll pick up for him more often.” she tuts with a grin.

you feel your whole face start to burn as she slams the door and walks away.

did that just happen?

a/n : hi hi ♡ i’m well aware this isn’t the best , i’ve mentioned i’m struggling to write lately & it shows ! i’m proud of the concept & whatnot , just bad writing gdjdhjsjs . anyways i need to bounce on ellie’s strap rn u don’t understand .

🌙 @whore4abby @enbesbians @hersweetheart 🌙

#🧸 bee writes ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ ✉️ : reqs #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x you

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sweetnothingtm · 9 months ago

Text

part ii of biker!simon, based off of this video! ☆

at first, you think dating biker!simon is a bad idea.

your neighbors hate him, a new complaint filed every time simon rolls up to your apartment in the middle of the night and revs the engine. he said something like he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and how he likes seeing you flustered.

but biker!simon starts showing up everywhere, casually leaning against the bike with his arms crossed in front of him. you always greet him with a smile, planting a kiss on his helmet as he reaches for your waist. he would complain about getting pulled over for the third time, and you joke that seeing you must be getting expensive for him, huh?

but he shrugs, saying something about how he’d die a happy man if he kept getting to spoil a sweet thing like you rotten.

he takes you on long drives, weaving between lanes of traffic and letting you absently talk about anything that’s on your mind. and when he tells you that he couldn’t hear a bloody thing, you roll your eyes and say something like he just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him - but he’s got a smirk plastered across his face when he says yup, that’s what good girls like you are made for.

you have a habit to play with his belt when he rides, feigning innocence when he glances back to you with dark eyes. he asks do you really wanna get there on time? and you’re biting back the smile as he pulls to the nearest exit, tugging off the helmet to give you a wicked grin. he says something along the lines about needing to make a detour, and you’re going to be late, but that’s alright, yeah?

when you ask him teach you how to ride for the first time, you’re shyly planting kisses across his balaclava with a little smile on your face. his eyes are trained on your features, sharp and focused as you whisper gently in his ear with your arms wrapped around his neck.

biker!simon would plant his hands on your waist, grabbing at the skin and groaning to himself. he’d ask do you really wanna learn how to ride? - and you’d look at him with eager eyes, playing with the ends of his hair as you hummed a yes, please.

biker!simon would pull you firmly into his lap, biting and nipping at your neck as he whispered something about how - if you really wanna learn, you should practice on me first.

pretty soon you’re starting to wait for the sound of his engine, giddy with excitement whenever he runs a hand up your thigh and gently squeezes. you tell him that he can always stay the night, isn’t it too dark out to ride? you don’t want him to get pulled over again, right?

so he starts leaving his boots at the foot of your bed. biker!simon calls you when every time he gets another ticket, grumbling over the line about how he didn’t do anything stupid, just a bit of speeding - he didn’t want you to wait, and he’ll be there real soon, so don’t get too comfortable, okay? you joke that it’s just nice to have free rides, but he’s got his head tilted back as he laughs, saying that you’re just being coy - c’mon, admit that you kinda like having him around.

he bought you a helmet that matches his own, placing it snuggly on your head before your first drive. biker!simon would knock his helmet against yours, whispering sweet praises about how you look bloody good, sweetheart. talking about the fact that you’re just so brave, huh? what a good girl you are, guiding you onto the bike as he sits behind you.

and you’re so nervous, taking glances at him from behind your shoulder as he gently instructs you what to do. he’s got a hand on your waist that squeezes when he tries to get your attention. he’s telling you that you don’t need to worry about a thing, since he’s here to keep you safe, yeah?

he’d gently turning the engine over, letting the bike hum to life as you take in a breath and relax against his touch. one tap for slow, he’d say to you, patting your thigh gently, and two taps for speed up. you can do that, right sweetheart?

he whispers into your ear the whole ride, coaxing out that nervous energy until you’re running on pure adrenaline. biker!simon says something like you’re doing so good, huh? you take it like a natural - how come you’re acting so shy?

and afterwards you’re parked on the side of the road, wrapped up in his arms as he tugs you closer and hums in satisfaction. he asks you how it was, pulling up the visor to your helmet so you see two dark eyes lit up with affection. and you shrug your shoulder, saying something about how you’re not really sure what all the fuss is about, talking about the fact that now you can do it all by yourself. at that, he laughs and says see - it wasn’t so bad, huh sweetheart? but let’s save the riding for home, yeah?

dating simon couldn’t be all that bad, right?

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misctf · 8 months ago

Text

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #redneck tf #dumber tf

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edamameimei · 1 month ago

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everything you wanted (daniela avanzini x reader)

"you're just thinking it's a small thing that happened, the world ended when it happened to me."

synopsis: after an unexpected accident shakes their world, your friends make it their mission to carry out what seems to be your 'final wish.' however, what they discover goes deeper than anticipated. feat: winter from aespa, soobin and yeonjun from txt tags: so much angst im so sorry. kinda fluffy, but do not be fooled. childhood best friends au. loosely based off the kdrama 'move to heaven,' more specifically, episode 5 (ifykyk). CW: kissing, character death, suggestive themes wc: 4271 words

⏯ now playing: we hug now - sydney rose

part two

It was any other night for you.

After consuming a copious amount of caffeine, you are finally done studying. You look at your watch, sighing tiredly when the screen displays 2:00 AM. You rub your face with your hands. What you thought would be a short study session became much longer than anticipated. You didn’t realize how behind you were.

You slowly stuff your laptop into your bag, zipping it up then swinging it over your shoulder. You yawn as you make your way toward the library exit. When you walk outside, you can’t help the quiet, ‘fuck’ that escapes your mouth.

It’s a torrential downpour tonight; your measly hoodie was the only thing you had.

You put your hood on, shaking your head as you walk quickly to your apartment. It was only a couple blocks away but in this weather, it might as well feel like years. You keep your head down as you walk, shivering with every step. You’re relieved when you finally get to the crosswalk that leads straight to your apartment building.

You step out onto the street, not thinking to look both ways. It was late and your brain was fried, having any rational thoughts at this point is impossible.

But as you keep your head down, your eyes trained on your feet, you don’t notice the headlights getting closer. You don’t hear the rev of an engine or the music that blasts loudly from a vehicle. You just wanted to be in bed already.

You don’t notice until you hear the ugly screech of the tires.

You look up, your eyes immediately widening when you realize. You raise your hands, the world going silent in a blink of an eye.

You meet Daniela Avanzini in the 8th grade.

You were tasked with tutoring the younger student due to your above-average knowledge of the subject she was struggling with. The only thing you know about the girl is that she’s quite loud, very sociable, and is terrible at science– things you are not.

You sit in the classroom waiting for the girl. Your nose is in yet another book, so entranced by the story that you don’t even notice when she walks in. You only look up when you hear the chair next to you being pulled out. When you see her, you immediately freeze.

She was undeniably the prettiest person you have ever seen.

She holds her hand out, smiling widely, “Daniela Avanzini.”

You grab her hand and shake it. It almost feels like a promise. “Y/n L/n.”

Your closest friends stand at your apartment door, a sad silence surrounding them.

It felt wrong. Going into your apartment with you nowhere to be seen.

But, after the funeral, your parents asked them to go through your things. They asked for your awards, certificates, medals, but nothing else. The rest is junk. It enraged them to think that’s all you ever were to your parents and even after death, it’s still the same. You often complained about them, telling stories about how they pushed you to be just like them. But you were nothing like them. You were just as hard working, that much was obvious. But you had your goals set on something else. It wasn’t medical school nor your research in the labs. But it was something you kept to yourself, never once sharing with your friends.

And they are determined to figure out what that was.

Winter leans down, removing the mat lying in front of your door. She picks up the key, shaking her head with a chuckle. “For a genius, what a stupid place to keep a key.” Soobin laughs and so does Yeonjun. They watch as Winter unlocks the door. At the same time, they all realize that you will not be inside waiting for them. You will not be three energy drinks in, studying at your desk. You will not be lying on your couch, cozied in your blankets with a book. You will never be in this apartment again and it doesn’t make sense because it’s yours.

Soobin walks in first and the others follow suit. They stand in the hallway, taking it all in. After a few moments of silence, they walk into your room. They’ve been in your apartment almost a thousand times but this time it felt unknown. What usually feels homey now feels desolate without its warm presence. The feeling intensifies when they walk into your room.

The bed wasn’t made. It was as if you were there this morning.

The thought almost makes them want to turn around. The desire to leave everything untouched becomes unbearable. At least then, there would be evidence that you were there. It wouldn’t matter how long ago, you would be there and you would be alive.

Your desk was littered with papers, some crumpled up while others had words scratched out with a pen. The trashcan was filled with coffee cups and energy drink cans. Yeonjun walks over to the nightstand, spotting your ID badge. He picks it up and stares at it for a moment.

Y/N L/N. 4TH YEAR PRE-MED INTERN. EMORY MEDICAL RESEARCH CENTER.

His lip trembles as he looks at your ID photo. “We were gonna graduate in three months…” He shakes his head and pockets your ID, wanting it as a keepsake. It’s a weird thing to have sentimental value over; but grief does that unfortunately. Yeonjun turns around and walks back toward Winter and Soobin. They found an empty spot on the floor to sit, not wanting to sit on your bed. Yeonjun sits next to them and takes a deep breath. He lets out a shaky sigh. “Well. This is really fucking weird.” Winter laughs. She tries not to let the tears brimming her eyes to fall. She looks down at her lap and whispers, “What now?”

Soobin shrugs his shoulders. He leans back, propping himself up with his arms. He looks around your room with a sad smile. “We find what we’re looking for.”

You are known as an academic weapon to your teachers and peers.

You aren’t a natural by any means. It takes a lot of sacrifice to be as smart as you are. Other kids your age are going out and having fun while you are at home, studying for an exam weeks away. The determination was built into you, wired this way by your parents who believe in nothing less than perfect. You had a destiny to fulfill and you were dedicated to it. If it meant long hours of studying at the library, in study hall, or at home, then so be it.

But your favorite study spot by far is on the bleachers.

It sounds ridiculous because it is. It doesn’t make sense for you to like it so much. It’s the noisiest place to be, especially after school. The constant yelling from the football team, the shrill of a whistle every five minutes, the cheerleading squad repeating the same routine over and over again. The bleachers were an overstimulating nightmare.

But it gives you the best view of Daniela Avanzini, your best friend in the entire world.

You learned more about the Latina through the many tutoring sessions in middle school. Even after she began to improve in science, Daniela insisted on still meeting with you. You learned she was very dedicated to dancing and performing. She wanted to become a star. For the first time, your life wasn’t consumed by formulas and medical terminology. You secretly lived vicariously through the girl, seeing her chase a dream that was all hers. You had no dreams.

You just had to get into medical school. That’s all you knew.

After some convincing (and her not willing to let go of you when you were desperately trying to make your way toward the school’s library) you finally made use of the time waiting for Daniela to finish cheer practice. You wouldn’t admit it, but after a couple of weeks, it has become one of your favorite places. Watching Daniela cheer became a new hobby of yours. She shined on the field, her bright smile lighting up the student section even when their football team loses yet another game. The feeling you get watching her is the same when you attend her dance competitions. You feel proud to be her best friend. And you even feel special when you are always the first person she runs up to when they’re over.

Daniela never lets you forget how important you are to her.

And in return, you’ve never missed a football game when she started on the team last year. You haven’t missed a cheer competition nor a dance competition. Every single thing Daniela participated in, you were there. She always urged you to do the same, to join an activity so she had something of yours to go to, but you always had the same excuse. You were just too busy. And why should you? You’d miss the way Daniela looks up at you in the bleachers after practicing well. The way she smiles as if looking for approval. And you’d always smile back because she always does well.

After practice ends, you always wait for her outside the locker room. When she comes out, she makes a beeline toward you, interlocking your fingers immediately. She would always look up at you with a smile, her dimple evident in her cheek. She asks, “Did you like what we did today?” And even if it’s always the same thing, you always nod, squeezing her hand gently, “Of course I did, sunshine.” The nickname never fails to make her giggle. You called her that once during one of your tutoring sessions in middle school, and she never let it go.

She pushes your glasses up on your face, leaning up to place a lingering kiss on your cheek. When she pulls away, she giggles, grabbing your hand again. She pulls you toward your car. “Come on, make yourself useful and get me ice cream!” You roll your eyes, allowing her to drag you. You playfully respond, “What do you say, sunshine?”

She giggles again. “Please make yourself useful and get me ice cream?”

You didn’t need the please. You just wanted to hear her laugh again.

Your friends return to Soobin’s apartment after digging around your apartment for hours.

They sit on his couch and in front of them on the coffee table is a locked box. They found it hiding amongst your old medical textbooks underneath your bed. They were always curious about this box. They’ve watched you put things in it before but your friends always respected your privacy, never asking about it or bringing it up. But they knew whatever was inside held the answers to their question.

The only problem is the lock on it.

Yeonjun suggested picking the lock (“We don’t know how to do that.” “YouTube is our best friend, you know?”) and Winter says to break it open (“How do you intend on doing that?” “Just… Smash it open?”) but Soobin feels it would only be right to figure out the combination. When he says this, Yeonjun raises his eyebrow. “Are you serious? We don’t even know what’s in here. And you think we can just figure out a combination?” Soobin sighs. He knows it sounds stupid, but he already feels bad for invading your personal life like this. After a few seconds of silence, Winter picks up the box. Soobin reaches his hand out, scared she may try her idea, but she pushes him away, fiddling with the lock. “Trust me! Let me try something…”

The two boys watch Winter work on it. Their eyes widen when they hear the lock click open. She pulls it off, surprised as well. Yeonjun leans over, the shock evident in his voice, “How’d you figure it out that fast?”

Winter shrugs, looking down at the box in her lap. “I tried their phone passcode. 0701.”

It’s your senior year, and your feelings for Daniela have evolved to a point where they have become distracting.

Your parents have noticed your lack of focus on your studies. Being the child of two well-known doctors in Atlanta made it even more difficult for you. There was a title to uphold and a pressure for you to be just like them. Before meeting Daniela, it was something you’ve accepted. You had your entire future figured out before you were even born. After meeting Daniela though, the free spirit that she is, made you realize there’s a lot more to life than the expectations your parents set for you.

There were days where you’d stay longer in study hall, attempting to study for your AP classes. But it would be immediately forgotten once Daniela joins you. On the days where she isn’t at cheer or dance practice, she would join you wherever you are. She’d sit next to you, taking out her homework or the latest book she had begun reading. She would put her glasses on and get lost in her task, while you took glances at her shamelessly.

It always confused you on why she’d spend all her free time with you when she had her own life to live.

When you arrive at school in the mornings, you’d find her standing at her locker talking to her friends from cheer or class. The moment she spots you, she’s ending the conversation and attaching herself to your hip. No one at your school understood your friendship with Daniela. You were always so quiet, so timid. Daniela was energetic and everyone knew her name. But no one would ever see one or the other, they always saw you and her. And that’s how it always was.

Until one morning.

You walked into school expecting to see Daniela at her locker. However, you spot her on the other side of the hallway. She stands with a boy you recognize from the football team. You watch as they interact and your stomach drops when she places her hand on his shoulder. You see them laugh together and you have to will yourself to look away when you see her light up at whatever the boy says. You walk quickly down the hallway, avoiding her eyes. You don’t stop when she calls your name. You just keep going, ignoring the stinging in your chest.

It goes on like this for a week. And then two weeks. Then suddenly, you’ve stopped keeping track of how long it has been since you talked to Daniela. You have exams and projects to focus on.

You walk out of study hall, your eyes on your phone as you walk toward the exit. However, you bump into something– or someone more like it. When you look up, your eyes widen.

It’s Daniela.

She has her arms crossed and she is glaring at you with that intense look in her eyes. You check your watch, noticing she should have been on the bus to go to the game 15 minutes ago. You’re about to say something but Daniela pushes you, successfully knocking you back a couple steps. You look at her surprised. The Latina steps closer to you, jabbing a finger into your chest. “What the hell has gotten into you lately?” You look away from her, your voice shaking slightly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” She scoffs, crossing her arms again. Her tone comes out even harsher than before. “You’ve been avoiding me. I thought you were just busy with everything but you haven’t even answered my texts! You won’t even look at me anymore, what the hell is going on?!”

You look at her, exasperated. “Dani, I don’t need to always–”

She cuts you off, yelling, “Don’t call me that!” Her words make you roll your eyes. You try to walk away but she grabs your wrist and stops you. You turn toward her, your tone firm, “Let me go, Daniela.” But once the words leave your mouth, you regret them immediately. Your eyes soften when you see how hurt she looks. Tears are threatening to spill from her eyes and her lip trembles. She whispers, her voice cracking, “What did I do wrong?” The desperation in her voice breaks your heart. Knowing you’re the reason makes you feel worse. You shake your head, taking a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sunshine.”

She wipes her eyes and you want to reach out and wipe her tears for her. She looks up at you, her eyes glistening. “Then what’s up with you? You’re supposed to be my best friend…” She shakes her head and looks down at her feet. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/n.”

Her words knock the wind out of you. Without a second thought, you grab her by the waist, pulling her in for a kiss. She doesn’t respond at first. You begin to think that you’ve ruined everything, that you’ve lost Daniela completely. You’re about to pull away but she grabs your shirt and pulls you closer. Her lips move against yours desperately and it makes your knees weak.

For the first time in your life, you have something worth fighting for.

On top of everything lies an envelope.

Yeonjun grabs it. He takes a deep breath and opens it slowly. His hands shake as he pulls out two pieces of paper.

One is a one-way ticket to Los Angeles.

The other is a concert ticket.

Winter takes the concert ticket from his hands, studying it. She can’t help the giggle that escapes her lips. “Katseye?”

Your first semester at Emory is a nightmare.

After years of being able to breeze through any assignment and project, you now find yourself struggling to keep up with the demands of what it takes to be a pre-med student.

You’re consuming more caffeine than you ever did in your life, there are days you’re not even sure if you ate anything besides a granola bar you found at the bottom of your bookbag, and amongst all of your fellow pre-med colleagues, you feel somewhat inadequate.

You’re sitting at your desk in your dorm when you hear your phone begin to ring. You want to ignore it knowing your exam is in the morning, but your eyes briefly land on the name. You grab your phone, answering it immediately. You lean back in your chair and smile. “Hey there, sunshine.”

“I’m outside.” You sit up, your eyes wide and your heart beating out of your chest. Your smile gets wider as you stand. “Are you serious?” She giggles, responding, “Come outside and find out.” You speed walk toward your door, your hand on the door knob but Daniela stops you. “Nuh uh. It’s cold out here, put on a sweater.” You roll your eyes, groaning, “How do you know I’m not wearing one?” The silence on the other end is the only response you get and it causes you to sigh, quickly grabbing one of the hoodies you threw on the ground earlier. You sprint downstairs and hear Daniela laughing on the other end at your excitement. You run out the door and spot her immediately.

You run toward your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her waist. You spin her around and her loud squeals cause you to smile even wider. When you put her down, you lean in, kissing her softly. She places her hands on your cheeks, deepening the kiss. You pull her closer as if you were scared this was all a dream. After a few minutes, she pulls away, looking at you with stars in her eyes. You kiss her dimple before pulling her back for a tight hug, burying your face in her shoulder. You murmur, “What are you doing here?”

She giggles, running a hand through your hair. “To see you, dummy.” You pull away slightly to look at her in surprise. “You drove almost an hour to see me?” She nods, wrapping her arms around your neck. She leans in and kisses your nose. “I missed you…” You pull her in for another tight hug and chuckle. “I missed you too, sunshine.” You hold her close, your worries disappearing. You’re about to ask her to come inside but she speaks up, saying, “I do have something to tell you.” You pull away, your arms still around her waist. You notice the excitement in her eyes and tilt your head in curiosity. “What’s up?”

She takes a deep breath. She speaks softly, “Do you remember that audition I was telling you about?” You light up at her words, nodding quickly. “Yeah! Did it go well?” Daniela bites her lip and nods. You hug her again, shaking her excitedly. You remember how nervous she was for her audition, but you knew she’d do well. She always does.

However, you notice a shift in her mood. You pull away, placing your hands on her shoulders. You look at her worriedly. “That’s a good thing, right?” Daniela looks down when she hears your words. She whispers, her voice barely audible, “I’m going to California.”

Soobin continues sifting through the box and pulls out a stack of letters that are neatly kept together with a rubber band. Yeonjun and Winter lean closer to him, watching as he pulls the rubber band off with caution. He goes through the letters and notices they are all addressed to you. They’re all dated and signed off by the same person.

‘Your Sunshine.’

Yeonjun grabs one of the letters. Unlike the others, this one was mailed to you. He opens it, taking it out of its envelope. “This one is from three years ago…” Winter looks at it, her eyes scanning for anything important. She sits up straighter when she reads the words ‘Dream Academy.’ She reads the whole paragraph aloud: “I know you’re not happy about me going to Los Angeles. About me being on Dream Academy. But this is everything I’ve ever worked for. I can’t give it up for anything, I’m sorry. You have your dream and I have mine.”

Soobin looks at her with a raised eyebrow. “What does that have to do with anything?” Winter grabs the envelope that contains the two tickets. She holds it up, waving it around, “Y/n was going to Los Angeles–” Yeonjun cuts her off, adding, “Yeah? They got a job at the UCLA Medical Research Center there… That wasn’t that surprising.” Winter rolls her eyes, continuing, “They weren’t just going to Los Angeles for a job, dumbass. They were going for whoever this is.” She opens the envelope, taking out the Katseye ticket. “And I think it’s someone from this group.”

Yeonjun leans back against the couch, chuckling. “You’re joking right?” Winter shakes her head. She looks back at the letter, putting the pieces together. “Dream Academy was the survival show that created Katseye… It just makes sense.” And no one can deny it, it certainly does make sense. But it all seems so far fetched. If anything, they could be putting together a story that doesn’t exist at all. They sit in silence, not knowing what to do with the information in front of them. Winter sighs and puts the letter down. She looks at the two boys with a determination in her eyes.

“There’s one way we could try… Seeing if I’m right.”

Daniela breaks up with you over the phone.

It wasn’t a long phone call. But it did enough to crush you.

She tells you that the distance is too much to handle. She tells you that she needs to focus on training. She tells you how she can’t be distracted.

When the phone call ends, you can’t help but feel you’re back at square one.

You sit in your dorm, taking a glance at your anatomy textbook. You push it off your desk, tears spilling from your eyes.

An hour later, they move their investigation to Winter’s apartment.

They sit in her room, waiting patiently for your phone to charge. It was given to her by the police when they came to break the news of the accident. Your driver’s license still had the address of when you and Winter lived together in your second and third year at Emory, which led to her being the unfortunate one to know what happened first.

She was also the unfortunate one to identify the body.

The sound of your phone turning on fills the silence of the room. They turn their heads, looking at it. Your lockscreen was all of you together during a trip you all took last spring. You’re all smiling widely, holding each other close. Even through the cracks on the screen, the photo still emanates a happiness that they are afraid of never getting back.

Soobin grabs your phone and looks at the others, his hands shaking. They watch him unlock it ‘0701’ and swipe for your contacts. He sighs in relief when he sees you haven’t blocked the contact he had been looking for.

‘Sunshine <3’

“What if they pick up?” He whispers, looking up from your phone. Winter shrugs and keeps her eyes on her lap. She speaks quietly, “I guess we’ll see.” Soobin nods and looks back down at the contact. He taps on it, putting it on speaker for everyone else to hear.

To their surprise, the person answers on the first ring.

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

an: i literally have no clue how this idea came to mind considering I watched the drama like two years ago but hey! heartbreaking content! i lowk don't recommend watching it bc it is so sad and it took a lot of mental energy for me to finish but it was so good. watch it if you'd like some context, esp episode 5 but u rlly don't have to.

requests are open

#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #megan skiendiel #daniela avanzini #manon bannerman #lara raj #sophia laforteza #jeong yoonchae #katseye #daniela avanzini x reader

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