#fingers crossed that I survive the semester
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2024-08-20
New semester starting tomorrow!
I’m sad to leave the summer behind: this has possibly been one of the best summers I have had. I not just hung out with friends and caught up on sleep, but also worked on research and learnt really cool things.
But again, the wheels of time push forward, and we begin anew.
#fingers crossed that I survive the semester#I’m taking organic chemistry which I heard is hella hard#I also gotta make time to still work on my internship stuff!!#I’m helping my mentor write her paper which is rly exciting#cuz I might be able to put my name on it as well!#hyped#studyblr#studyspo#study aesthetic#my posts#stem academia
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You Better Remember This Time: B.C & L.F Bang Chan x fem!reader x Lee Felix (College AU)
WC: 25.9K
CW: Violence and Physical Altercations, Sexual Harassment & Assault Implications (abuse of power & non-consensual groping), Anxiety and Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Discussions of Gender-Based Violence, Crossdressing (Men in Skirts), Background Seungbin, Seungmin being the best best friend, Minho being the best older brother figure, pining Chanlix, reader is kind of oblivious due to self esteem issues, comforting!2min, Jeongin being a menace
General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist
The air in Seungmin’s room is warm, the scent of old books, fabric softener, and a faint trace of the cinnamon candle you bought him last semester lingering in the air. His desk is a chaotic mess of law textbooks, highlighted notes, and an empty coffee mug that’s been sitting there long enough for a faint coffee ring to stain the wood. You, Seungmin, and Jeongin are sprawled across his bed and the plush rug beneath it, a laptop perched between you as you attempt to power through another hellish week of coursework.
Your light grey sweatpants are soft against your skin, your white off-the-shoulder jumper slipping slightly as you adjust your position. Your pink fluffy socks wiggle in the air as you stretch out, your sneakers long discarded in the corner of the room. Silver-lavender strands of hair escape from the messy clip on top of your head, and your blue-light glasses are perched on your nose as you squint at the tiny text on your screen.
Seungmin, forever the grumpy civil law major, sits cross-legged on the bed, his laptop balanced on his thighs as he types with practised precision. His orange hair is slightly mussed from where he’s been running his fingers through it in frustration, and he barely looks up when Jeongin, flopped on his stomach beside you, groans dramatically.
“This is so fucking lame,” Jeongin complains, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling like it personally offended him. His black hair is still damp from his shower, and his loose hoodie is slightly wrinkled. “We should be out drinking and having fun, but no, Miss Cheerleader-With-The-Packed-Social-Schedule and Mr Grumpy-Ass-Antisocial-Law-Student are drowning in coursework instead.”
You huff a laugh, nudging him with your foot. “I told you we could go out tomorrow.”
Jeongin lets out an exaggerated sigh before perking up. “Oh, yeah! Tomorrow’s still an option.”
“For you, maybe,” Seungmin mutters, not looking away from his screen. “I have a fucking midterm on Monday, so my ass is staying right here.”
“Boo,” Jeongin teases, sticking his tongue out. “Anyway, I call bullshit, Y/N. You always leave me to hook up.”
“I can’t help it! It’s my hookup time,” you say with a grin, propping yourself up on your elbows.
Jeongin glares at you in faux betrayal. “Last time, you left me for Jennie Kim.”
You shrug, lips twitching. “Yeah, well, I got fucked by the president of Kappa Tau, and you dicked down that cute guy from Delta Nu. Chan-hee, wasn’t it?”
Jeongin narrows his eyes, recalling the memory. “Okay, fair point. But still, you ditch me like clockwork.”
“You should go with Hyunjin tonight,” Seungmin suggests without looking up.
“Uh, no,” Jeongin replies immediately, shaking his head.
You giggle, propping your chin on your palm. “Go with Minho and Jisung, they’re fun on a night out.”
“Only because you and Jisung are basically the same bundles of anxious sunshine energy with no survival instincts,” Seungmin remarks dryly. “And Minho feels a need to protect you both.”
You pout. “That’s not true.”
Seungmin finally looks up, his expression flat. “You know what Changbin calls you and Jisung?”
You tilt your head. “What?”
“Quokkas.”
You blink, confused. “Like the happy little animals?”
“The happy little animals with no survival instincts,” Seungmin clarifies, voice tinged with amusement.
Jeongin cackles, nearly rolling off the bed. “Oh my God, that’s so accurate.”
You scoff, placing a hand over your chest in mock offence. “I have survival instincts. Sort of. Like, I can keep myself alive... I think.”
Jeongin snorts. “You’re smart, but you lack common sense.”
“Not true!”
“So true,” Seungmin and Jeongin say in unison, making you groan.
“Hey! I’m a flyer on the cheer squad, and I live every time!”
“Very different from keeping yourself alive in a scenario that requires common sense,” Jeongin counters, wiggling his brows.
Seungmin leans back, stretching his arms over his head. “I bet right now, if I asked you to go make us coffee with the coffee machine, you wouldn’t be able to.”
You scoff, pushing your glasses up your nose. “I would!”
“Okay,” Seungmin says, raising an eyebrow. “Off you go, prove us wrong.”
You start to move, but he holds up a hand. “And you can’t get Minho to do it for you.”
You gasp, placing a hand on your chest in fake indignation. “I would never.”
“Yes, you would,” Jeongin says, smirking. “Because he’s like your older brother, and he’d do anything you asked.”
Seungmin hums in agreement, shooting you a knowing look. “So, go on then. Prove us wrong, Miss ‘I Totally Have Survival Instincts.’”
Your lips press together in determination as you push yourself up from the bed, grabbing your phone. “Fine. I’ll show you both.”
Their laughter follows you as you make your way to the kitchen, muttering under your breath about how they always gang up on you.
The Alpha Phi kitchen is eerily spotless, the kind of clean that could probably get the entire frat house featured in a lifestyle magazine, if not for the sheer chaos that brews within its walls on a daily basis. But no one dares disrupt the pristine order because this is Minho’s domain, and Minho takes the state of his kitchen personally.
Everyone still remembers the time Changbin thought he could get away with leaving a mug of coffee behind the microwave. By the time Minho found it, it had grown a fuzzy green mould colony, and Minho had tried to shove Changbin into the oven as retribution. Lesson learned. No one fucks with Minho’s kitchen.
You hum to yourself as you pull open the cabinet that holds your most prized possession, your matching Powerpuff Girls mug set with Jeongin and Seungmin. Your mug is Bubbles, because obviously. Jeongin’s is Blossom, because he insists he’s the responsible one, which is a lie, and Seungmin’s is Buttercup, mostly because he’s a little shit with a permanent resting bitch face. You smile fondly at them as you line all three up on the counter, feeling a strange sort of satisfaction at the sight.
Then you turn to the coffee machine and immediately, all confidence drains out of your body.
You tilt your head, staring at the intimidating array of buttons and dials, completely at a loss. Why does it look like something that belongs in a spaceship? At your apartment, you just boil water like a normal person, scoop in some instant coffee, and call it a day. But, of course, there’s no fucking kettle in this kitchen. Because this is Alpha Phi, and they do everything the fancy, overly complicated way.
You exhale through your nose, placing your hands on your hips as you analyze your enemy. It can’t be that hard, right? There are buttons. Probably labelled ones. Maybe you just-
The door swings open, and you turn just in time to see Chan and Felix walk in, hand in hand, their fingers loosely intertwined like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Felix is practically glowing, his blue hair looking extra tousled, probably from Chan’s hands. Chan, on the other hand, has that effortlessly cool thing going on, dressed in one of his many hoodies with his black hair falling over his forehead.
Both of them pause when they see you standing in front of the machine, looking like you’re about to challenge it to a duel and Chan raises an eyebrow. “You okay?”
You blink and glance over at him. “Yeah.”
Felix’s lips twitch as he follows your gaze to the machine. “You making coffee?”
“Hopefully at some point in the next decade,” you say, crossing your arms. “Seungmin said I’m intelligent but have no common sense and bet I couldn’t use the machine. And I want to prove him wrong.”
Chan and Felix exchange a look, both clearly amused.
You huff. “He also said I can’t ask Minho for help, which is absolute bullshit because Minho would totally help me.”
Chan chuckles. “Maybe start with plugging it in.”
You blink. Then slowly look down. The fucking machine isn’t even plugged in.
You inhale sharply, closing your eyes for a moment to suppress the overwhelming sense of defeat. Then you sigh, waving a hand. “You know what? I’m just gonna go tell Seungmin he’s right. I can take the blow to my pride.”
Felix gasps. “You can’t.”
“You’re right, my pride definitely cannot take it,” you admit solemnly. “I’ll just go to that cafe down the street and buy coffee. I’m a genius.”
Chan laughs, shaking his head. “That’s cheating.”
“And?” You arch an eyebrow. “I am perfectly willing to cheat my way through life, just not through academics.”
Felix looks at you like you’ve just declared yourself a prophet. “That might be the most relatable thing you’ve ever said.”
Chan sighs fondly before reaching for the cord and plugging in the machine himself. He flicks a few switches, presses some buttons, and within seconds, the machine is whirring to life like it wasn’t just a fucking Rubik’s cube of confusion two minutes ago.
“Alright,” he says, stepping back and gesturing. “I’ll make them, but you have to at least watch so you can fake it in case Seungmin quizzes you.”
“Understood.”
Felix leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching as Chan starts measuring out coffee grounds like a professional barista. His eyes flick toward you, glinting with amusement. “You really thought about just walking out and buying coffee, huh?”
You grab the Oreo tin from Jisung’s snack cupboard and pop it open. “Of course. It’s the fastest way to preserve my dignity.”
Felix snickers. “You have a very loose definition of dignity.”
You grin at him, grabbing a handful of Oreos. “You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”
Chan shakes his head as he pours hot coffee into the mugs, steam curling into the air. “You do know this machine has been here since the first time you visited the frat house, right?”
“Listen.” You lift a single Oreo between your fingers and point at him. “I have better things to worry about than the history of your unnecessarily complicated kitchen appliances.”
Felix reaches over and plucks an Oreo from your pile, popping it into his mouth with a pleased hum. “I can’t believe you’re the only person Jisung lets into his snack stash.”
You shrug, munching on one yourself. “He loves me.”
Chan snorts, setting the now-filled Powerpuff Girls mugs on the counter. “Nah, it’s ‘cause you’re the only one who doesn’t steal half his shit.”
Felix gasps, clutching his chest. “Excuse me, I always ask.”
“Yeah,” Chan drawls, “after you’ve already eaten it.”
Felix pouts, but you just grin, hugging your Bubbles mug to your chest. “Felix gets a pass because he’s adorable.”
Chan scoffs, shooting Felix a pointed look. “This is why she doesn’t believe people flirt with her.”
Felix just smirks, licking an Oreo crumb from his thumb. “I know. It’s fucking hilarious.”
You frown at them. “What?”
Chan just shakes his head, eyes warm as he nudges your mug closer to you. “Nothing, angel.”
You don’t register the pet name as anything but friendly, because why would you? You think they’re just naturally affectionate. You don’t notice the way Felix watches you with open fondness or the way Chan’s gaze lingers just a little too long.
Felix and Chan watch as you disappear up the stairs, the three Powerpuff Girls mugs carefully balanced in your hands, your fluffy pink socks muffling your footsteps against the hardwood floor. The moment you’re out of earshot, Chan lets out an exasperated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as he leans back against the counter. His other hand stays curled around Felix’s waist, instinctively keeping him close.
“She doesn’t have a fucking clue we like her, does she?” Chan mutters, voice heavy with disbelief.
Felix snorts, nestling himself against Chan’s side as he tilts his head up to press a kiss to Chan’s jaw, his lips soft and warm against the older boy’s skin. “Not a single fucking one,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his voice.
Chan groans, throwing his head back slightly before running his fingers through his hair. “Is she blind?”
Felix hums, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in his dark brown eyes. “Considering she didn’t realize the coffee machine wasn’t even plugged in, it’s entirely possible.”
Chan barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Fuck, you might be right.”
“I mean,” Felix continues, stretching his arms out lazily before linking his fingers behind Chan’s neck, “her and Jisung are basically the same fucking person. Lack of survival instincts? Check. Unaware of their own goddamn appeal? Check. Oblivious as fuck to people flirting with them? Massive check.”
Chan raises an eyebrow, lips twitching. “So, what, you’re saying we’ve got another Minho and Jisung situation on our hands?”
“Oh, one hundred percent.” Felix grins, poking Chan’s chest playfully. “Minho could suck Jisung’s dick and that dumbass would still be like, ‘Minho’s my bro. Bros suck bros’ dicks sometimes, right?’” He pauses for dramatic effect, then shakes his head. “He’s still fucking convinced Minho is fully straight.”
Chan lets out a loud, incredulous laugh, gripping Felix’s waist tighter as he tries to catch his breath. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“I’m just saying,” Felix shrugs, resting his chin against Chan’s shoulder, “if Jisung can’t tell Minho is obsessed with him, then Y/N’s never gonna figure out we both want to rail her six ways to Sunday.”
Chan groans again, head falling back against the cabinet with a dull thud. “God, don’t fucking say shit like that when we just watched her skip out of here with that stupid, happy smile on her face.”
Felix giggles, wiggling his eyebrows. “What? You know I’m right.”
Chan exhales, shaking his head. “Yeah, you’re right, and that makes it so much fucking worse.”
Felix pats his chest comfortingly. “It’s okay, babe. We’ll just have to make our flirting even more obvious.”
Chan side-eyes him. “We literally call her angel. We buy her food. We’re constantly touching her. What the fuck else are we supposed to do? Write her a goddamn love letter?”
Felix considers this for a moment before smirking. “Maybe.”
Chan lets out another groan and tilts Felix’s face up to kiss him, slow and lingering, the warmth of Felix’s lips grounding him. Felix sighs happily into it, fingers curling into the fabric of Chan’s hoodie, and for a moment, they just exist in their own little world.
When they pull apart, Felix rests his forehead against Chan’s. “We could just tell her,” he suggests softly.
Chan lets out a humourless chuckle. “Yeah. And risk scaring her off?”
Felix sighs, closing his eyes. “Yeah, that’d fucking suck.”
Chan presses another quick kiss to Felix’s lips before nudging him toward the doorway. “Come on, let’s get out of here before Minho finds out we’ve been standing in his kitchen this whole time without cleaning anything.”
Felix grins, lacing their fingers together as they head toward the living room. “Good call. I’d rather not end up in the oven like Changbin.”
The crisp autumn air carries a sharp bite as you and Jeongin weave through the bustling Miroh College campus, the two of you moving with a level of urgency that would make anyone think you were late for an important lecture. But, in reality, you're just trying to avoid Seungmin. “We can’t keep running forever,” Jeongin huffs, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he glances over his shoulder like a man being hunted.
You scoff, heels clicking against the pavement as you grip his sleeve and pull him behind a large oak tree near the library. “We can and we will. We lost that bet, and there is no way in hell I’m letting Seungmin cash in on whatever horrifying punishment he’s cooked up for us.”
Jeongin presses himself flat against the tree trunk, panting slightly as he peeks out into the open courtyard. “I knew we should’ve never bet against him. We’re fucking idiots.”
“Speak for yourself,” you mutter, adjusting your white headband with one hand while your other rests on your hip. “I just got dragged into your dumbass decision.”
“Oh, please,” Jeongin rolls his eyes, looking you up and down. “Like you weren’t all smug and confident about it. ‘Oh, Jeongin, there’s no way Seungmin can beat us in trivia night, we’re both so smart and pretty, what could go wrong?’” His voice mimics a high-pitched version of your own, and you jab him in the ribs.
“I do not sound like that.”
“You absolutely do,” he retorts, dodging another jab. “And now we’re paying the price for our hubris.”
You sigh dramatically, shifting your weight onto one leg. The fitted black sweater layered over your white ruffled blouse hugs you comfortably, and your pleated black-and-white tweed mini skirt flutters slightly in the breeze. Your glossy Mary Janes gleam in the late afternoon sun, and you feel an odd sort of satisfaction knowing your outfit is cute as hell, even if you are currently in hiding.
“We need a plan,” you say, squinting into the distance as if the answer to your predicament is hidden among the crowd of students milling about the quad.
Jeongin waves a dismissive hand. “We don’t need a plan. We just need to avoid him for, I don’t know, another week?”
“A week?” You snort. “Seungmin’s patient as fuck. He’ll wait until we’ve let our guard down and then pounce.”
“Okay, true,” Jeongin admits, scrunching his nose. “We might need a new strategy.”
Before either of you can formulate one, Jeongin’s face suddenly lights up, his posture straightening with excitement. “Oh! We’re going out next Saturday.”
You blink at him. “Okay. Where?”
“Side Effects,” he announces proudly, rocking back on his heels. “You know, the bar where all the drinks are named after side effects of medication?”
Your lips curve into a grin. “Oh, Jisung and I are regulars there.”
Jeongin smirks knowingly. “Yeah, of course, you two anxious motherfuckers are.”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Anxiety is our typical order.”
Jeongin laughs along with you. “Obviously. Anyway, me and the rest of the frat are all going as a group, and you’re coming too.”
You pause for a moment, tilting your head. “Are you sure? I mean, you said it’s a frat thing.”
Jeongin fixes you with an unimpressed stare. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re around the house enough that you’re basically our honorary female member.”
You scoff playfully. “That’s not how that works.”
“It is now,” Jeongin declares, folding his arms. “So, you coming or what?”
You exhale dramatically as if you actually need to think about it, before shrugging. “Sure. I need a break from reading about immunology anyway.”
“Yes!” Jeongin pumps a fist in victory before his expression turns serious. “Now, the real challenge. We need to convince Seungmin to dress sexy.”
You let out an undignified snort. “We’d have better luck winning the lottery.”
“I know,” Jeongin groans, rubbing his face. “But he has to. He cannot-” he emphasizes the word with a dramatic hand gesture, “-come with us in a sweater vest. I will kill myself if he does.”
“Same,” you deadpan, crossing your arms.
Jeongin sticks out his fist. “Pact?”
You nod solemnly, bumping your fist against his. “Pact.”
“Found you.”
You and Jeongin freeze in tandem, like two deer caught in headlights. Slowly, ever so slowly, you turn your heads, only to find Seungmin standing a few feet away, arms crossed, lips curled into the most infuriatingly smug smirk you’ve ever seen.
“Shit,” Jeongin whispers.
“Run,” you whisper back.
You both bolt, feet pounding against the pavement as you attempt to escape the inevitable wrath of Seungmin, but it’s no use. He’s quicker than he looks, and before you can make it more than a few steps, he reaches out and snatches both of you by the collars of your shirts like a pissed-off mother cat.
"Where exactly do you think you're going, dumbasses?" Seungmin drawls, voice laced with unimpressed amusement. He doesn’t even sound winded, which is the real insult here.
You kick your feet uselessly in the air, your glossy Mary Janes barely brushing against the ground as you struggle in his grasp. “Let us go, you tyrant!” you cry dramatically, thrashing like a wild animal.
“Oh, yeah, totally,” Seungmin deadpans. “Let me just release the two dipshits who thought they could evade me forever.”
Jeongin groans beside you, his arms flailing as he tries to pry Seungmin’s grip off his hoodie. “We had a good run.”
“You had a stupid run,” Seungmin corrects.
Then, just as you’re about to accept your fate, you spot your saviour. Standing across the quad, looking effortlessly unbothered, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. And just like that, an idea forms. A brilliant, foolproof, utterly genius idea. “Minho!” you yell, your voice carrying across the campus like a war cry.
Seungmin stiffens. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Minho’s head lifts at the sound of your voice, his gaze flicking toward you with mild curiosity. When his eyes land on the sight of you and Jeongin being physically restrained by Seungmin, one brow raises, amusement flickering across his face. “Do I even want to know?” Minho calls back.
Seungmin clicks his tongue, already knowing he’s lost. He curses under his breath and, begrudgingly, lets you go. Because if there’s one thing Seungmin values more than retribution, it’s self-preservation. And he knows, he fucking knows, that Minho will bite him if he even so much as thinks about bothering you. A fact that you abuse often.
With a triumphant grin, you immediately hop over to Minho, leaving Jeongin to suffer alone. “You saved me from a fate most foul,” you sigh dramatically, slipping beneath Minho’s arm as he wraps it loosely around your shoulders. “Seungmin was about to make me suffer the consequences of my actions.”
Minho hums, nodding as if this is the most serious information he’s received all day. “Can’t have that happening to you.”
You shake your head solemnly. “Only Jeongin.”
Minho smirks. “Only Jeongin.”
From behind you, Jeongin lets out a betrayed noise, his eyes wide with sheer, unfiltered horror as Seungmin tightens his grip on his hoodie. “Wait, no! You can’t just leave me!” Jeongin wails, legs kicking uselessly as Seungmin starts dragging him away. “I THOUGHT WE WERE IN THIS TOGETHER!”
You press a hand to your chest, feigning sadness. “I’ll miss you.”
“YOU’RE THE WORST,” Jeongin screeches, fingers clawing at the ground as if he can somehow anchor himself there.
Seungmin, thoroughly unamused, adjusts his hold and hauls Jeongin over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. “This is what you get for thinking you could escape me.”
Jeongin’s wails only grow louder as Seungmin marches away with him, and you make no effort to suppress your laughter. Minho chuckles beside you, shaking his head.
“You’re such a little shit,” Minho muses, poking your side.
You beam up at him. “I know.”
And as Jeongin’s suffering echoes across the campus, you loop your arm through Minho’s and happily walk the other way, completely unbothered by whatever punishment Seungmin is about to unleash on your poor, unfortunate best friend.
Jeongin strides into Chan’s room without knocking, entirely unbothered by the fact that Chan and Felix are currently engaged in an absolutely filthy makeout session on the bed. Chan is shirtless, his toned torso on full display, while Felix is clad in nothing but his boxers, straddling Chan’s lap as they move against each other, a slow, heated grind of hips that leaves very little to the imagination. The air is thick with the scent of cologne and something heavier, something unmistakably them. Moans mix with breathy chuckles, the occasional murmured praise between kisses filling the space.
Jeongin doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t pause. He doesn’t so much as acknowledge the borderline indecent display. Instead, he holds out his hand, palm up, expectant. “Pay up.”
Felix barely pulls back, lips kiss-bruised and breath uneven. “What?” he pants, blinking dazedly at Jeongin like he’s only just registering his presence.
Jeongin stares at them, unimpressed. “I got her to agree to come to the bar with us next Saturday. Now, pay up.”
Chan groans, not out of frustration but more in the for fuck’s sake, I should’ve expected this kind of way. He leans back against the headboard, dragging a hand through his hair before reaching over to the nightstand. Without hesitation, he slaps a wad of sixty thousand won in notes into Jeongin’s waiting palm.
Felix, finally processing the information, straightens up slightly. “You really got her to come?” His voice carries equal parts excitement and disbelief.
Jeongin pockets the cash without ceremony. “Yeah. It wasn’t that hard. She likes going out; she just doesn’t have the time for it. You know, because of the whole double major thing.”
Felix flops dramatically onto Chan’s chest, groaning. “How does she not know we like her?”
Jeongin snorts, shaking his head as he folds his arms across his chest. “Because I love the girl, but she just thinks everyone is nice. She doesn’t know she’s a fucking knockout that has half the campus trying to get into her panties.”
Chan frowns at that, jaw tightening. He shifts slightly, like the idea of people wanting you in that way doesn’t sit right with him. Like he hates that you don’t see it, that you don’t see yourself the way you deserve to. Felix sighs heavily, running a hand through his tousled blue hair. “She really doesn’t notice, does she?”
Jeongin shakes his head. “Nope. Not even a little bit. She’s got, like, the lowest fucking self-esteem I’ve ever seen. Just assumes no one sees her as anything more than a friend.”
Chan exhales through his nose, rubbing his temples. “But we flirt with her all the time.”
Jeongin shrugs. “Yeah, and she thinks you’re just being friendly.”
Felix lets out an almost pained noise, burying his face against Chan’s shoulder. “This is actually suffering.”
“You’re gonna have to ease her into it,” Jeongin advises, plopping himself down in the chair near the desk. “She’s not used to people liking her, let alone an already established couple.”
Chan pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Fucking hell.”
Felix groans. “I wanna kiss her so bad.”
Jeongin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to work for it, because she’s not gonna get it unless you basically spell it out for her.”
Felix flops backwards onto the bed with a defeated sigh. “This is bullshit.”
Jeongin smirks. “Well, on the bright side, you have an insider source. Consider that a blessing.”
Chan levels him with a look. “You extort us.”
Jeongin shrugs, completely unrepentant. “Tomato, to-mah-to.”
Felix suddenly perks up, propping himself up on his elbows, eyes gleaming with mischief. “We could just tell Seungmin that you’ve been helping us try to date his and your best friend.”
Jeongin snorts so hard he almost chokes. “Pfft. You wouldn’t.”
Chan raises a brow. “Wouldn’t we?”
Jeongin grins, shaking his head. “Nah, because then Seungmin would start extorting the two of you, and you know that motherfucker would be worse than me.”
Chan exhales sharply. “I hate that you’re right.”
Felix throws his head back with a dramatic groan. “This is the worst timeline.”
Jeongin just laughs, standing up and patting his pocket where his freshly earned sixty-thousand won sits comfortably.
“Help us make some semblance of a plan,” Felix whines, poking at Jeongin’s leg with his foot as the younger boy makes himself comfortable in the chair by the desk.
Jeongin doesn’t even look up from where he’s idly scrolling on his phone. Instead, he just holds out his hand, palm open, expectant.
Chan groans, rubbing his temples. “You’re like a fucking toll bridge.”
“And yet you still pay every time,” Jeongin muses, barely hiding his smirk as Chan slaps another wad of cash into his palm. He counts it leisurely, flipping through the notes with a pleased hum before tucking it into his hoodie pocket.
Felix watches this unfold with narrowed eyes, then squints at Jeongin in suspicion. “You just made us pay you to make her come out with us, and now you’re charging us again for a plan?”
Jeongin grins, stretching his arms over his head. “The plan I will give you is, unfortunately, a premium subscription. Unless you want the basic plan.”
Chan exhales sharply through his nose, already annoyed. “And what the fuck is the basic plan?”
Jeongin tilts his head. “Just keep doing whatever the fuck you’re doing and hope she gets a clue in the next ten years.”
Felix gasps, appalled. “That’s fucking useless.”
Jeongin shrugs. “Exactly. Hence the premium plan.”
Chan glares, muttering something under his breath about thieves and con artists before begrudgingly slapping more cash into Jeongin’s waiting hand and Jeongin grins, cracking his knuckles. “Alright, listen up, dumb and dumber. The problem here is that she thinks you two are her friends.”
Felix groans. “We are her friends.”
Jeongin shakes his head. “No, no, I mean she sees you the same way she sees me, Seungmin, Minho, and Jisung.”
Felix gasps so dramatically that Chan actually has to slap a hand over his mouth to shut him up and Jeongin nods solemnly. “Yeah. You two are, in her mind, firmly planted in the best friend zone. You might as well be me, dude. That’s your competition right now.”
Felix slaps Chan’s hand away, scandalized. “WHAT THE FUCK?! CHAN, WE’RE IN THE JEONGIN ZONE?!”
Jeongin simply nods, like this is serious news that must be taken with the utmost gravity. “Yes. You are in the Jeongin Zone.”
Chan’s entire body sags as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“So,” Jeongin continues, propping one leg up over his knee, “you need to make her see you in another light. Right now, she’s got you classified under ‘Safe and Non-Threatening Friendship.’ You need to shake that up. Gently.”
Felix narrows his eyes. “How the fuck do we do that?”
Jeongin hums, tapping his chin. “First of all, do not make her uncomfortable. She’s not used to being wanted, so don’t just come at her full force. Ease her into it. Little things. Keep flirting, but push just a bit further every time. Compliment her more, but in a way that makes it clear you see her as attractive, not just cute. Physical affection? Step it up, but keep it natural.”
Chan nods, considering this. “Okay, that makes sense. What else?”
“Oh,” Jeongin grins, “also? She has arachnophobia.”
Felix perks up immediately. “That’s perfect. We can save her from spiders.”
Jeongin smirks. “That’ll score you some points, yeah. Now, one last thing.” He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “You need to convince Coach to let the cheerleaders perform for the full duration of halftime at the next game against the Levanter Lobos.”
Chan furrows his brows. “Why?”
Jeongin’s smirk fades slightly. “Because they’re staging a protest.”
Felix and Chan exchange a glance and Jeongin sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “You know that TA who only got a brief suspension after harassing female students?”
Chan’s expression hardens. “Yeah.”
Jeongin nods. “The cheer team were his biggest targets, and now that he’s back, they want to protest his return.”
Felix sits up straighter. “Even Y/N?”
Jeongin shrugs, looking away. “It’s her story to tell.” His voice is quieter now, more serious. “It took her a while to tell Seungmin and me. I’m not gonna spill her business.”
Chan clenches his jaw, hands tightening into fists. “Fucking hell.”
Felix exhales slowly, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll get Coach to approve it.”
Jeongin nods, standing up and stretching. “Good. Now, I’ve got shit to do, and I’m already a couple hundred thousand won richer, so I’ll be taking my leave.”
Felix throws a pillow at him. “Fucking scammer.”
Jeongin catches it with a grin. “Pleasure doing business with you, losers.” And with that, he waltzes out, leaving Chan and Felix sitting there, more determined than ever.
The Alpha Phi kitchen is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the overhead stove fixture and the dull glow of Jisung’s laptop screen. It’s the middle of the night, and you and Jisung have long since abandoned any pretence of productivity. The initial plan had been noble, an all-nighter to power through your respective essays. Jisung, working on a criminal psychology paper about the correlation between childhood trauma and serial offenders, and you, tackling an extensive pharmacodynamics essay that had been looming over you for the past two weeks.
It had started well enough, with the both of you settled at the kitchen table, books and notes spread chaotically across the surface, the occasional scribble of a pen filling the silence. But the problem with you and Jisung studying together is that you both suffer from severe procrastination and catastrophic attention spans.
The moment one of you so much as breathed in a way that hinted at distraction, it was game over. So, naturally, about an hour ago, you’d both given up. Now, the essays are forgotten, the textbooks shoved aside in favour of something far more important, music, gossip, and Jisung’s secret stash of soju.
Jisung sits across from you at the table, clad in his signature late-night study attire, white Hello Kitty pyjama pants, a white tank top, and his ridiculous pink slippers. He had insisted on buying the matching pyjama pants for you, too, claiming it was non-negotiable. You’d relented, and now you sit mirroring him, your pink Hello Kitty pyjama trousers comfortable as you sip soju straight from the bottle, legs curled up on the chair. Your cropped white camisole barely does anything to keep you warm, but the alcohol buzz helps.
Jisung is mid-rant, voice animated as he leans across the table. “Okay, so, get this. You remember that one TA, you know the one, who was fucking around with that sophomore from the dance department?”
You blink at him, soju bottle pausing mid-air. “The guy who looks like he’s one bad decision away from committing wire fraud?”
Jisung cackles, smacking the table. “YES! Him! So, apparently, he got caught trying to cheat on his fiancée, who, by the way, is pregnant, but get this, he tried to do it with one of the professors. Like, a whole ass faculty member.”
Your jaw drops. “No fucking way.”
Jisung nods rapidly, eyes wide with glee. “Swear to God. And the best part? The professor rejected his ass so hard she went straight to the dean about it.”
You let out an exaggerated gasp. “As she fucking should!”
He holds up a finger. “Wait, it gets better. The dean pulled up receipts from other students who had already complained about him for being a sleazy bastard, and now his fiancée, who, might I remind you, is carrying his unborn child, found out everything.”
You gasp again, slamming your palm against the table. “Tell me she left his ass.”
“Oh, immediately,” Jisung confirms with a manic grin. “Kicked him out of their apartment, trashed his shit, and she blasted his cheating ass all over social media.”
You let out a delighted shriek, shaking his arm. “I love women.”
Jisung laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Women are a fucking gift.”
You nod fervently, taking another swig of soju. The warmth of the alcohol spreads through you, making you sink further into your seat, relaxed and happy. This is your favourite part about late-night study sessions with Jisung. Sure, you never actually get anything done, but the chaos, the drama, the stupid giggles, it makes it worth it.
Jisung lets out a long yawn, stretching his arms over his head before pushing himself up from his chair. “I need a fucking caffeine boost if we’re gonna keep going.”
You frown as he makes his way to the fridge, opening it and rummaging through the shelves. “You do realize we haven’t actually studied for like an hour, right?”
He snorts. “Details, details.”
A moment later, he turns around, two energy drinks in hand. He tosses one to you, and you catch it easily, popping it open without hesitation. The moment the liquid touches your tongue, you let out an involuntary shudder and Jisung notices immediately, cackling. “Tastes like battery acid, doesn’t it?”
You cough. “This is gonna restart my fucking nervous system.”
Jisung takes a sip of his own and physically recoils. “Why does this taste like regret?”
You groan, rubbing your temples. “We are so gonna regret this in the morning.”
Jisung waves a dismissive hand. “Future us problem.”
You both clink your cans together in mock celebration.
Then, it happens. From the corner of your eye, something moves. It’s fast, dark, and scuttling across the kitchen floor with far too many legs. For a moment, your brain refuses to process what you just saw. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation. Maybe it’s the soju. Maybe it’s the godforsaken energy drink rewiring your neurons. But then Jisung sees it too and all hell breaks loose.
“SPIDER!”
You and Jisung fucking shriek in perfect harmony, launching yourselves onto the kitchen island so violently that your slippers are left abandoned on the floor. The bottle of soju tips over, spilling across the table, but neither of you care. Your priorities have dramatically shifted.
Jisung clings to you like his life depends on it, arms locked around your waist in a death grip as you both balance precariously on the counter, legs curled up as if that alone will protect you from the eight-legged demon lurking below.
“Oh my fucking god,” you wheeze, voice barely coherent. “Jisung, do something!”
“ME?!” he screeches, clinging to you tighter. “BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK AM I GONNA DO?!”
You shake his shoulders violently. “FUCKING KILL IT!”
Jisung glares at you, scandalized. “YOU FUCKING DO IT, YOU’RE A SCIENCE MAJOR!”
You let out a strangled noise. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!”
Jisung waves his arms wildly. “FUCKING ANATOMY OR SOME SHIT! DISSECT IT! SCIENCE IT TO DEATH!”
You whimper, gripping his tank top like a lifeline. “Jisung, it’s so big.”
Jisung’s entire body trembles. “I know.”
The spider remains where it is, unmoving, as if it knows it holds all the power in this situation. You and Jisung, still clinging to each other for dear fucking life, remain standing on the counter. Screaming.
The gaming room is bathed in the glow of LED lights, the screen flashing the victorious finish line of Mario Kart as Felix groans into Chan’s mouth, thoroughly defeated. He had been determined to win at least one round against Chan, but his boyfriend is a fucking menace with the controller, and every single time Felix had gotten close to victory, Chan had thrown a well-timed shell or expertly drifted around him, smirking like an asshole the entire time.
Now, Felix is venting his frustrations in the only way he knows how, straddling Chan’s lap on the couch, gripping his jaw, and kissing him hard enough to make up for every single loss. Chan doesn’t seem to mind, hands firm on Felix’s waist, thumbs rubbing slow, teasing circles over the warm skin beneath his hoodie. Their breathing is heavy, lips brushing lazily against each other as Felix grumbles between kisses.
“I fucking hate you,” Felix murmurs, sucking Chan’s bottom lip into his mouth and nipping it with his teeth, just to be a little mean.
Chan hums in amusement, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his fingers digging into Felix’s waist with just enough pressure to make him feel it. “Yeah? What else is new?”
Felix rolls his hips down, making Chan inhale sharply through his nose. “Fucking cheated,” Felix mutters.
Chan chuckles against his lips. “Not my fault you’re shit at Mario Kart.”
Felix pulls back just enough to narrow his eyes at him, prepared to argue, but before he can get a single word out, an ear-piercing scream echoes from somewhere in the house. Both of them immediately freeze. Another scream follows, two voices this time, high-pitched and frantic. Felix and Chan exchange a glance.
Jisung. And you.
Chan barely has time to mutter, “What the fuck-” before Felix is already up, yanking him off the couch, both of them racing towards the kitchen, their previous activities completely forgotten.
The scene they walk in on is utter fucking chaos. You and Jisung are on the kitchen island, clinging to each other for dear fucking life. Your eyes are wide, faces tight with sheer terror, limbs wrapped so tightly around each other that it’s hard to tell where one of you ends and the other begins. The spilt soju bottle drips onto the floor, forgotten, while the cause of your absolute distress lurks menacingly near the fridge.
A spider. And not just any spider, a big fucking spider. Felix stops short, eyes flicking between the scene in front of him, then to Chan, then back to you two, who are still making absolutely no effort to get down from your self-made safety island.
Chan takes a slow step forward, hands raised cautiously. “You guys okay-”
Before he can finish, you make a split-second decision, driven purely by instinct. You launch yourself off the counter and straight into Chan’s arms. Chan barely has time to react before he catches you, arms instinctively wrapping around your waist as you cling to him like a lifeline, your legs wrapping around his torso like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Chan stands there for a second, eyes wide, before looking down at you, pressed completely against him. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, breath shaky against his neck. “Don’t put me down,” you whisper.
Chan lets out a slow breath. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it.”
Jisung, meanwhile, is still stranded, now pointing accusingly at the spider. “Kill it,” he commands.
Felix blinks, then sighs, grabbing the nearest rolled-up magazine from the counter. With zero hesitation, he steps forward and mercilessly swats the spider, its body crumpling instantly beneath the impact. The kitchen falls silent as Felix turns back around, tossing the magazine into the trash like he just finished a job well done.
Jisung, still visibly shaking, lets out a breath. “I want you to know that you just saved two lives today.”
Felix smirks. “What, you think I’d let you two fucking die over a spider?”
You groan, still curled into Chan’s hold. “It was so big, Felix.”
Chan sighs, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Yeah, yeah, we know, angel.”
Felix eyes Jisung with mild amusement. “You planning on getting down anytime soon?”
Jisung scoffs. “Absolutely fucking not. I need time.”
Felix holds out a hand. “Come on, dumbass.”
Jisung hesitates for a long moment, eyes still darting around the kitchen like more spiders are lurking in the shadows. Finally, with great reluctance, he reaches out and lets Felix help him down. His legs wobble the moment he touches the floor, and Felix has to grip his arm to keep him steady.
Jisung exhales, rubbing his face. “I fucking hate this house.”
Chan chuckles, but before he can respond, Jisung suddenly tenses. His eyes go wide again. “THERE’S ANOTHER ONE!” he shrieks, scrambling back onto the counter so fast that he nearly topples over.
You let out an actual whimper, tightening your grip around Chan’s neck like you’re trying to merge with him as Felix groans. “Fucking hell.”
Without another word, he strides across the kitchen, snatching the magazine back out of the trash as Jisung flails. “BURN THE HOUSE DOWN.”
Felix ignores him, eyes scanning the area. “WHERE IS IT?” he demands.
Jisung points furiously toward the corner near the pantry. “THERE. LURKING.”
Felix moves, quick and efficient, and then SMACK. Another one down and Jisung lets out a breath of relief but still refuses to move. “Do a sweep.”
Felix whips around, scowling. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes.”
Felix sighs so hard, but pulls out his phone, turning on the flashlight, and starts fucking inspecting the entire kitchen.
You, meanwhile, do not move from Chan’s arms. Chan doesn’t seem to mind. His hold on you is steady, his body warm against yours. His hand rubs soothing circles into your back, the soft, repetitive motion helping ease the residual panic still buzzing beneath your skin.
As Felix methodically searches every inch of the kitchen, his phone’s flashlight flickering over cabinets and countertops like he’s a highly trained investigator rather than a half-dressed frat boy at two in the morning, Chan lets his gaze drift toward the kitchen window. His arms are still securely wrapped around you, your body warm and pressed tightly against his, and he has no intention of letting go anytime soon. You’re still slightly trembling from the spider-induced terror, and honestly, Chan’s kind of enjoying the way you’re clinging to him. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud. But then, movement catches his eye.
Outside, in the dimly lit backyard, Jeongin is crouched just beneath the kitchen window, peeking in like a goddamn goblin. The moment their eyes meet, Jeongin grins like the absolute menace he is and lifts his hand in an exaggerated thumbs-up. Chan furrows his brows, confused for a moment until it clicks. Jeongin. The little shit. He planted the fucking spiders.
Chan’s grip tightens instinctively around you as the realization hits him like a fucking truck. He doesn’t know how Jeongin managed it, but it’s so painfully obvious now. The conveniently placed, terrifyingly large spiders? The fact that both you and Jisung freaked out just enough to need rescuing? When Chan and Felix were the only ones downstairs?
That devious little bastard planned this.
Chan narrows his eyes in silent warning, but Jeongin only grins wider. Then, still maintaining eye contact, Jeongin forms a V-shape with his fingers, then promptly darts his tongue between them, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Chan almost fucking drops you. His first instinct is to throw something, but his hands are full with you, and he definitely doesn’t want you turning around and seeing Jeongin acting like a feral cryptid in the backyard. So instead, he tightens his grip around your waist, subtly shifting you so that your face remains buried in his shoulder, keeping you blissfully unaware.
Then, he mouths a very clear, very deliberate, “You’re fucking dead.”
Jeongin does not take the threat seriously. If anything, it just makes him worse. He grins even wider, then lifts one hand and makes a circle with his fingers while the other hand repeatedly jabs a finger through the centre, his shit-eating grin widening as he nods enthusiastically.
Chan’s eye twitches and Jeongin then fucking levels up. He cups his own hand like he’s holding a nonexistent dick and fake jerks it off, his tongue darting out obscenely at the same time. Chan visibly recoils, horrified but Jeongin just keeps going. Now, he’s forming two circles with his fingers, mimicking breasts while thrusting his hips wildly, looking like a deranged demon outside the fucking window.
Chan is this close to having a goddamn aneurysm.
Felix, who is still inspecting the kitchen but has now noticed Chan’s sudden stiffness, frowns slightly. “What’s wrong with you?” he murmurs, shining his flashlight toward him.
Chan desperately tries to get Felix’s attention without you or Jisung noticing. His eyes dart meaningfully toward the window, and Felix follows his gaze, only to immediately snort when he sees Jeongin outside. Jeongin, who is now making exaggerated moaning faces while fake-thrusting into thin fucking air. Felix wheezes, nearly dropping his phone. “Oh my fucking God.”
Chan shoots his boyfriend a panicked glare, subtly jostling you against his chest to keep your attention away. Felix, however, is having the time of his fucking life. He watches as Jeongin ups the insanity, now pretending to spank himself while mimicking exaggerated slapping noises with his mouth.
Chan’s expression is pure, undiluted murder and Felix, choking back laughter, lifts his hand and silently salutes Jeongin through the window, acknowledging his true villain status. Chan tightens his grip on you again, his fingers pressing into your back in an attempt to ground himself. He knows the moment he lets go, he’s fucking launching himself out there and killing Jeongin with his bare hands.
Jeongin, still entirely unbothered by the absolute wrath in Chan’s eyes, winks, blows a lewd, exaggerated kiss, then sprints off into the darkness like the chaotic little goblin he is.
Felix, still quietly losing his fucking mind, finally nudges Chan with his elbow. “You have to admit,” he whispers, barely containing his laughter, “that was some next-level shit.”
Chan glares. “I’m going to fucking end him.”
Felix grins. “Not before I thank him.”
Chan groans, resisting the urge to just drop to the floor in exhaustion.
And the worst part? You and Jisung remain completely oblivious to all of it, still wrapped up in your arachnid-induced trauma.
The neon lights of Side Effects pulse in time with the deep bass of the music, the air thick with the scent of alcohol, expensive perfume, and just a hint of cigarette smoke from the back patio. The bar is packed, filled with students and young professionals alike, all looking for a night of reckless abandon. You stride in confidently, flanked by Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin, the four of you cutting through the crowd like you own the place.
With your black faux leather blazer draped effortlessly over your shoulders, your fitted burgundy crop top hugging your frame perfectly, and your black leather mini-skirt barely skimming mid-thigh, you look like you belong in the VIP section of some exclusive underground club. Your chunky platform ankle boots add just enough height to make you feel powerful, and your dangling star earrings glint in the flashing lights as you toss your hair over your shoulder. Your black patent leather handbag swings lightly against your hip, the perfect finishing touch to your outfit.
And for once, for once, Seungmin doesn’t look like a grumpy lawyer in training. Through a combination of your relentless pleading, Jeongin’s shameless bribing, and one single, perfectly arched eyebrow from Minho, you’d finally convinced Seungmin to dress like he actually wants to get laid.
He’s wearing a deep emerald satin button-up, only half-buttoned, tucked into fitted black trousers that hug his legs just right, paired with sleek black boots that add just enough edge to make him look dangerous in all the right ways. His orange hair is styled slightly messier than usual, the strands falling into his eyes in a way that looks almost unintentional, but it’s not.
“You know,” Jeongin muses as he takes in the sight of Seungmin’s outfit, “I hate to say this, but you actually look kind of fuckable.”
Seungmin side-eyes him, unimpressed. “And yet, I still choose not to be.”
You snort, linking your arm through Minho’s as the four of you head toward the bar. “You say that now, but just wait. By the end of the night, someone is gonna be all over you.”
Seungmin scoffs. “If that someone is you or Jeongin, I’m calling campus security.”
Jeongin dramatically clutches his chest. “We would never hit on you, Seungmin. We have taste.”
“Mm-hmm.” Seungmin rolls his eyes, but the corner of his lips twitches just slightly, betraying his amusement.
As you weave through the crowd, your eyes catch on the large booth near the back of the bar, where the rest of your friends are already settled. The sight of them makes you grin.
Chan is perched at the head of the booth, looking obscenely good in his fitted white cropped tank top, oversized black cargo pants, and those chunky black boots that make him look like he could stomp on you and you’d thank him for it. His red and black leather jacket hangs off his shoulders just right, and his statement necklace catches the light as he tilts his head slightly, talking to Changbin. His multiple earrings gleam in the dim lighting, and you swear he just radiates effortless confidence.
And then there’s Felix, curled up right in Chan’s lap, looking like absolute sin in his sleeveless black leather vest, the sheer shimmering long-sleeve mesh shirt underneath adding just the right amount of tease. His low-rise distressed denim jeans hug his hips obscenely, and his fingers, adorned with chunky silver rings, drum lightly against Chan’s shoulder as he speaks animatedly to Jisung. His platform boots add just enough height to make him look dangerously pretty, and you barely resist the urge to sigh at how unfairly attractive both of them are.
Minho nudges your side, smirking. “You’re staring.”
You roll your eyes but don’t deny it. “They’re pretty.”
Minho snorts. “They know they’re pretty.”
You hum in agreement before pulling him toward the bar. “Come on. Drinks first.”
The moment you reach the counter, the bartender gives you a knowing nod. You and Jisung are regulars, after all. You lean against the bar, drumming your fingers against the polished wood. “An Anxiety for me.”
Minho slides onto the stool next to you, resting his elbow against the bar. “Mania.”
The bartender quirks an amused brow but doesn’t comment, moving to mix your drinks and a presence sidles up next to you, and you glance over to see a guy, tall, decent-looking, clearly confident, leaning against the bar with a smirk that screams bad intentions.
“Hey,” he drawls, eyes sweeping over you, lingering on your bare midriff. “Haven’t seen you here before.”
You tilt your head, smiling politely. “Oh, I come here all the time.”
His smirk falters for a fraction of a second, but he recovers quickly. “Yeah? Funny I haven’t noticed you.”
You hum, sipping your drink. “Probably ‘cause I usually come with my friend.”
The guy chuckles, leaning in slightly. “Well, maybe now you’ve got another reason to come.”
Minho watches, amused, as you completely miss the blatant flirting. You just smile, oblivious, sipping your drink as if this is just a pleasant conversation with a stranger. The guy seems to take your silence as encouragement, because he lifts a hand, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. Before his fingers can so much as graze your skin, Minho’s hand snaps up, smacking the guy’s hand away with a sharp slap. The sound is loud enough to cut through the music, and the guy jerks his hand back, startled.
Minho levels him with a single, unimpressed brow raise. “Don’t.”
The guy hesitates for a second, looking between you and Minho, clearly debating whether to push his luck. But then Minho tilts his head slightly, gaze turning just a fraction sharper, and the guy immediately backs the fuck down.
Without another word, he mutters something under his breath and walks away and you blink after him, confused. “What just happened?”
Minho takes a sip of his drink, completely unbothered. “He was hitting on you, cupcake.”
You pause, processing this, before frowning. “Really?”
Minho side-eyes you, lips curling slightly. “You’re so fucking oblivious.”
As you and Minho weave through the crowd back toward the booth, you frown, still stuck on what just happened at the bar. You take a sip of your Anxiety cocktail, the sharp tang of citrus and vodka lingering on your tongue, before turning to Minho with an inquisitive look.
"How do you even know that guy was hitting on me?" you ask, genuinely confused. "And second, why would he?"
Minho halts mid-step, exhaling through his nose like he’s just heard the dumbest thing in existence. His grip tightens around your wrist, and before you can react, he turns to face you fully and pinches your cheek hard.
You let out a whiny yelp, swatting at his hand. "Ow! Bitch!"
Minho sighs dramatically, shaking his head. "Cupcake, my poor, sweet, tragically unaware cupcake," he says, voice dripping with pity. "How do I even begin to explain this to you?"
You glare at him, rubbing your cheek. "You could start by not assaulting my face, dickhead."
"That was tough love," Minho deadpans before his expression softens just slightly. He exhales, tilting his head as he studies you, his eyes unreadable under the dim bar lights. "You’re hot, idiot. That’s why."
You blink, momentarily stunned. "Excuse me?"
Minho rolls his eyes, groaning. "See? This is what I’m talking about. You walk around every day acting like you’re just some random background character when, in reality, you’re the kind of girl people fucking notice, whether you realize it or not."
You open your mouth to argue, but Minho doesn’t let you.
"You have zero fucking clue what you look like to other people," he continues, voice firm but lacking its usual bite. "You walk into a room, and people see you, cupcake. You’re all big smiles and pretty fucking eyes and this insanely annoying energy that somehow works for you. You’re the kind of person who’s too fucking bright to be ignored. And guys? Guys notice that shit."
You shift on your feet, suddenly flustered. "Minho-"
"No, shut up, I’m talking," he interrupts, waving a dismissive hand. "You can’t fucking see it, but everyone else does. And it pisses me off that you don’t give yourself the credit you fucking deserve."
You chew on your bottom lip, uncertain. "I just don’t-"
Minho flicks your forehead and you yelp, pressing your hand to your forehead. "Ow! What the fuck?!"
"Shut up and listen." Minho leans in, expression serious. "You don’t think people want you. But they do. You just don’t notice it because your brain is too busy convincing you otherwise. That guy at the bar? He wanted you. That’s why he was trying to touch you. And if I hadn’t been there, you would’ve let him, because you’re too fucking nice to assume the worst in people."
You let out a frustrated sigh. "You assume the worst in people."
"Because I’m right," Minho says flatly. "And I swear to God, cupcake, if you ever let some random motherfucker touch you again just because you think it’s ‘harmless,’ I will actually commit a felony."
Despite yourself, you laugh. "What felony?"
"I don’t know yet," he says thoughtfully. "Manslaughter, probably."
You shake your head, exasperated. "You’re fucking insane."
"And you’re fucking blind." Minho pinches your cheek again before slinging an arm over your shoulder, steering you toward the booth. "Now, let’s go before I get pissed off for real."
Still flustered from Minho’s impromptu mean but weirdly touching pep talk, you let him lead you without protest. As you approach the booth, your eyes instinctively flick to Chan and Felix, where Felix is very much still in Chan’s lap, comfortably curled against him like he belongs there. Chan’s arm is draped over Felix’s waist, fingers tracing absentminded circles over his exposed side where his mesh shirt rides up.
Felix notices you first, eyes lighting up as he spots you. "There she is!" he exclaims, grin wide as he pats the empty seat next to Chan. "Come here, angel."
You don’t hesitate, sliding into the booth beside Chan. The leather seat is warm, and Chan, still radiating heat from the alcohol in his system, presses comfortably close to your side. Felix, still nestled in Chan’s lap, leans toward you with a teasing smile, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Took you long enough."
Minho, instead of sitting on the other side of the booth, slides in right next to you, effectively sandwiching you between himself and Chan.
You blink in surprise. "Uh."
Chan smirks. "Comfy?"
Felix chuckles, running his fingers through his hair. "Damn, you’re in the safest spot in the whole bar right now. No one’s getting near you without explicit permission."
You let out a snort, sinking further into the seat. "Yeah, I fucking gathered that."
Minho leans back, expression smug as he casually throws an arm over the back of the booth. "What? Don’t like feeling protected, cupcake?"
You huff, crossing your arms. "I don’t need protection. I can take care of myself."
Chan, still silent, hums softly beside you, his fingers tapping a lazy rhythm against his thigh. Then, in a single, smooth motion, he leans in, his voice a low murmur against your ear. "We know you can, angel. But it’s still fun to do it anyway."
Your breath catches and Felix watches with interest, eyes glinting as he nudges your thigh with his knee. "You do make it easy to look after you."
You blink at both of them, thoroughly confused but too flustered to argue and Minho watches the exchange with mild amusement before sighing dramatically. "Jesus fucking Christ, she really doesn’t get it."
Felix cackles. "Nope."
Chan just smirks, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Not yet."
The night has spiralled into beautiful chaos. Two hours, countless drinks, and an obscene amount of bad decisions later, you find yourself slumped between Chan and Minho in the booth, your entire body boneless from alcohol and laughter. Felix, still perched in Chan’s lap like he was made to be there, is giggling into Chan’s neck, shoulders shaking as he wheezes with amusement.
On the dance floor, Hyunjin is grinding on Jisung, his hands on Jisung’s waist, moving obnoxiously to the beat of the music. Jisung, never one to be outdone, has his hands above his head, rolling his hips in exaggerated thrusts, his face dead serious as if this is the most important performance of his life.
Minho, ever composed, takes a slow sip of his drink, his other hand lazily playing with the hem of your top as you remain draped over him. “If I had a fucking won for every time I had to witness Jisung’s crimes against humanity, I’d have fully paid off my student loans.”
Chan chuckles, but his gaze flickers back to the dance floor, watching as Jisung gyrates with deep commitment. “You jealous, Min?” he teases.
You grin, resting your chin on Minho’s shoulder. “Don’t be jealous, Min, Jisung would never fuck Hyunjin.”
Minho hums, unconcerned. “That’s ‘cause Jisung thinks I’m as straight as a ruler.”
Chan snorts. “Well, yeah.”
Minho raises an eyebrow, shifting slightly, allowing you to sink even further into him. “Me? Straight? That’d be cruel of me. I’m for the he's, she’s, theys, and everyone else.”
Felix fucking screeches, throwing his head back against Chan’s shoulder as he cackles and you lose it, burying your face into Minho’s neck as your body shakes with uncontrollable laughter.
Across the table, Jeongin is draped over Seungmin, his entire body limp as he lets himself be cradled like a fucking rag doll. The sight alone is alarming, Jeongin isn’t exactly touchy, and Seungmin? Well, Seungmin is Seungmin.
Which means the fact that Seungmin is openly cuddling Jeongin is a surefire sign that they are both drunk as hell.
Chan eyes them warily. “That’s how you know they’re fucking gone.”
You nod solemnly, squinting as you watch Seungmin idly rub Jeongin’s back, the latter murmuring something incoherent against his shoulder. “I never thought I’d see the day,” you mumble.
Minho exhales. “We need to document this.”
Felix fumbles for his phone, still giggling. “Hold the fuck on.”
As Felix snaps a quick picture, Minho’s fingers reach for your hair, gathering the loose strands and twisting them up into a messy but secure bun. You let out a soft sigh as his hands work through your hair, gentle despite the usual roughness in his demeanour.
“Why’re you doing that?” you murmur, voice drowsy from the warmth of the alcohol and the constant contact.
Minho doesn’t hesitate. “So you don’t fucking get puke in it if you’re sick later.”
Meanwhile, Changbin, ever the responsible chaos enabler, waves down a server and orders another round for the group.
Chan groans, but he doesn’t argue as Felix cheers.
You just giggle into Minho’s shoulder, and he groans. “You’re so fucking wasted,” he mutters, exasperated.
You grin, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “I love you, Min.”
Minho sighs, long-suffering. “I know.”
The first thing you register upon waking up is the absolute fucking warzone that is your brain. Your skull is pounding, your mouth feels like you swallowed an entire desert, and your stomach is not okay in the slightest. The second thing you register is that you are not in your own bed.
You crack open one bleary eye, blinking against the soft glow of morning light filtering in through the curtains. The walls around you are familiar, decorated with framed photos of cats, a collection of books stacked precariously on a small shelf, and a plushie that you distinctly remember gifting to Minho last Christmas still tucked into the corner of the bed. You’re in Minho’s room which means you got absolutely trashed last night.
You groan, throwing an arm over your face. You don’t even remember getting home, let alone changing clothes but judging by the fact that you are now in a pair of Minho’s loose shorts and an oversized t-shirt that definitely smells like him, you know exactly what happened. Minho took care of you. Again.
Still groaning, you push yourself up into a sitting position, your movements slow and painful, your head throbbing in protest. You barely manage to glance down before a voice pipes up from the floor.
"Aigoo," Minho coos, his voice still thick with sleep, his face half-buried in his pillow as he cracks one eye open to peer at you. "My cute little hungover monster."
You glare at him weakly, but there’s no energy behind it. "Shut the fuck up."
Minho just smirks lazily, snuggling deeper into his air mattress, his blanket pulled up to his chin. "Suffer," he mumbles before closing his eyes again, clearly not planning to move anytime soon.
With great effort, you peel yourself out of bed, the floor cool against your bare feet as you stumble toward the door, your limbs weak and uncoordinated. Your stomach churns violently as you make your way out into the hallway, one hand bracing against the wall as you try to keep yourself upright. You make your way painfully downstairs, each step a personal attack on your already fragile state. By the time you reach the kitchen, you’re questioning every single life choice that led to this moment.
Seungmin is already there. Slumped over at the kitchen table, his hoodie pulled up over his head, his face half-buried in his arms. He looks about as dead as you feel. The only thing keeping him upright is the large mug of coffee clutched in his hands, steam curling up into the air.
He doesn’t even look at you as he reaches for another mug, sliding it across the table toward you. Your Bubbles mug.
"You’re a goddamn angel."
Seungmin lets out something that sounds like a half-hearted grunt. "Don’t talk to me."
You take a careful sip of your coffee, the warmth instantly soothing the wreckage that is your soul. You exhale, closing your eyes for a moment as you let the caffeine begin to work its magic. After a long moment, you finally open your mouth. "I remember nothing."
Seungmin lifts his head just enough to give you a tired, unimpressed look. "Me neither."
You stare at him. "We were so fucked up last night."
Seungmin sighs, taking another slow sip of his coffee before setting it down with a heavy thud. "And if we can’t remember, it’s a sign we shouldn’t find out."
You nod solemnly, clutching your mug like it’s a lifeline. "You’re so right."
Jeongin stumbles into the kitchen like a zombie, his black hair a disaster, eyes still half-closed as he drags his feet across the floor. He looks exactly how you and Seungmin feel, like absolute shit. He grumbles something unintelligible as he approaches the table, rubbing at his face before slumping into the chair next to you with an agonized sigh.
Seungmin, who still has the bare minimum of functional brain power left, wordlessly slides Jeongin’s Blossom mug across the table toward him.
Jeongin grips it like it holds the meaning of life itself, lifting it to his lips and taking a slow, careful sip. He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a sigh, then finally cracks open one bloodshot eye to glance at the two of you. "You two remember anything?"
Seungmin exhales, shaking his head. "Nope."
You raise a single finger, barely lifting your head from where it’s collapsed onto your crossed arms. "Both blank," you mumble.
Jeongin sighs, shaking his head as if he expected this answer. "Three best friends with no memories," he mutters, lifting his mug into the air.
You and Seungmin lift yours as well, the three of you clinking them together like the brain-dead morons you are, letting the warm ceramic press together in an unspoken toast to reckless stupidity.
None of you notice Felix standing in the doorway. He stops, hovering just outside the kitchen, expression faltering as he hears you say you don’t remember anything. His lips part slightly, his fingers tightening around the doorframe as something sad flickers in his dark eyes.
Inside the kitchen, you groan, resting your forehead against your arms again, fully giving in to the sheer fucking exhaustion in your bones. Seungmin, always the most practical one out of the three of you, reaches over and rubs a slow, soothing hand against your back.
You let out a soft, pitiful noise in response and Jeongin watches, then groans loudly, dropping his forehead onto the table in solidarity.
Seungmin stares between the two of you, unimpressed. "Are you two communicating?"
Jeongin, without lifting his head, makes another low, miserable noise and you groan again in response. Seungmin sighs. "Jesus Christ."
Jeongin finally peeks up, blinking at Seungmin blearily. "It’s our new language. Hangovernese"
You nod into your arms. "Fluent."
Seungmin mutters something about wishing he had better friends but doesn’t stop rubbing your back, his fingers kneading into your muscles just enough to help with the pounding ache in your head. Then, another presence stumbles in.
Jisung enters the kitchen looking like he’s been dragged through hell itself, his tank top askew, his hair a fucking disaster, his Hello Kitty pyjama pants inside out for some reason. He does not acknowledge anyone. He does not speak. He moves like a man on a mission, straight toward the coffee machine.
The entire room watches in silence as Jisung yanks open the cabinet, retrieves his Howl’s Moving Castle mug, then aggressively bangs several buttons on the coffee machine, waiting for it to finally start brewing. When it does, he sighs heavily, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping against the counter, fully relying on it to keep him upright.
Then finally he turns, looks directly at the three of you and groans. Immediately Jeongin groans back and you, despite the pounding in your skull, let out another weak, suffering noise in agreement. Jisung nods, then takes his seat next to Jeongin as Seungmin throws his hands up in the air.
"I fucking hate all of you."
Felix trudges back upstairs, his stomach sinking with every step. His head still pounds from the lingering remnants of his hangover, but the ache in his chest is worse. He doesn’t even realize he’s made it to his room until he’s pushing the door open, stepping into the dimly lit space where Chan is sprawled out on the bed, clad only in his boxers, his toned arms stretched lazily above his head.
Chan barely cracks one eye open when Felix enters, shifting slightly against the pillows. "Did you not grab the coffee?" His voice is still hoarse, thick with sleep and the remnants of last night’s alcohol.
Felix doesn’t answer right away, just stands in the doorway, staring at the floor, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard he might actually draw blood and Chan frowns, pushing himself up on his elbows. "Lix?"
Felix finally lifts his gaze, and Chan immediately knows something is wrong. "She doesn’t remember."
The words come out flat, empty, like Felix doesn’t even want to say them out loud, like saying them makes it real. And Chan hates that he understands exactly what Felix means immediately, hates the way his stomach drops as the memories of last night flood back.
The music, the alcohol, the heat of it all. You, pressed between them, your body warm, your laughter breathless as you let them pull you in. The way you moved, letting yourself get lost in them, letting yourself fall into them like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Chan remembers the way you kissed, soft at first, hesitant in that way that made his head spin, then growing bolder, like you wanted more, like you wanted everything. He remembers how you’d turn, alternating between kissing him and then Felix, your arms wrapped around both of them, your hands gripping onto their shirts, their shoulders, anything you could reach.
He remembers Felix’s hands on your waist, guiding you as you danced between them, his lips trailing lazy kisses down the side of your neck before reaching Chan’s mouth again, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm, losing themselves in the feeling of you.
He remembers all of it.
"Shit," Chan mutters, running a hand through his hair.
Felix lets out a sharp breath before he moves, crossing the room in a few quick steps before climbing into bed next to Chan, curling into his side instinctively. Chan immediately wraps an arm around him, fingers slipping beneath the hem of Felix’s shirt, rubbing slow, absentminded circles into the bare skin of his back.
Felix exhales slowly, letting his forehead press against Chan’s shoulder. "She doesn’t remember," he repeats, softer this time, voice carrying something achingly close to disappointment. "Like it didn’t even happen."
Chan doesn’t answer right away, just tightens his grip around Felix, his fingers still tracing slow patterns against his skin, grounding both of them. Because fuck. What now?
The air at Miroh College’s football field is thick with tension. It’s halftime at the biggest game of the season, Miroh Maniacs versus Levanter Lobos. The crowd is electric, the bleachers packed with students and faculty alike, their voices carrying over the field in waves of cheers, jeers, and murmurs of anticipation for the second half. The players are huddled along the sidelines, sweat dripping down their temples as they gulp down water and electrolyte drinks, their jerseys sticking to their skin beneath their protective padding.
But the excitement that usually comes with halftime is different tonight. It’s heavy, tinged with something sharper. Something that settles in the air, creeping into every inhale. Because tonight? Tonight is not just about football. Tonight is a statement.
You stand in formation with the rest of the cheerleading squad, positioned at the centre of the field, facing the bleachers. The usual red and black cheer uniforms have been discarded. Tonight, every single cheerleader is clad in white. A white crop top with long sleeves, the fabric tight against your skin. A white pleated skirt so tiny that it barely reaches mid-thigh, swishing with every movement. White Converse laced up your calves. Your hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, tied off with a matching white ribbon.
Covering every inch of every single uniform are red handprints. They are smeared across your torsos, over your arms, staining the fabric like bloodied evidence. Some are haphazard, some deliberate. Each one a symbol, a mark left behind, a story untold, a voice unheard.
The field, once filled with the usual halftime chatter, falls silent. The crowd, students, faculty, alumni, watches as the entire cheerleading squad stands shoulder to shoulder, fists raised high in the air.
You stare straight ahead, your breathing steady, your fingers curled tightly as your arm remains locked in place above your head. The adrenaline from the first half of the game still hums in your veins, but it’s overpowered by the burning weight of what you’re standing for.
Across the field, on the sidelines, the football team moves as one. Chan, Felix, Minho, Hyunjin, Jisung, Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, and every single one of their teammates raise their fists in the air. A show of unity. Of solidarity. The entire team stands, unmoving, their fists clenched tight, their eyes locked ahead.
Low, mocking laughter, carrying across the field like an ugly stain and you barely have time to register the sound before hands are suddenly grabbing at you. A startled gasp rips from your throat as you feel fingers close around your waist, another set gripping at your arm.
Around you, the other cheerleaders yelp as players from the Levanter Lobos sneak up behind you and the rest of the squad, yanking at skirts, pulling at tops, their laughter growing louder with every struggle. “Oh, come on,” one of them taunts, a smirk curling on his lips as he tugs at Ryujin’s wrist when she tries to shove him off. “It’s just a joke.”
“Yeah,” another one laughs, stepping up behind Lia, his fingers gripping at the hem of her skirt. “You guys wanna make a statement? Let us help you make one.”
Your stomach churns with disgust, your entire body going rigid as a pair of rough hands slide around your waist from behind, one palm pressing firmly against your stomach, the other creeping upward. You freeze for a split second before instinct kicks in, and you thrash against his grip, but he’s strong, keeping you locked against him with ease. “Where you goin’?” he sneers against your ear. “Thought this little protest was for attention, well you’ve got it”
Your pulse spikes, heart hammering against your ribs as you try to pry his hands off, but he’s solid, unmoving, his grip tightening around you. Every fibre of your being is screaming to fight, to get the fuck out of his hold, but he’s laughing now, like this is all just some funny fucking joke. You hate the way your stomach turns, the way your throat tightens as panic starts to crawl its way up.
Then there's a roar of voices from the sidelines, a battle cry of righteous fury. The sound of feet colliding against the field and then the Miroh Maniacs are on the field. Chan. Felix. Minho. Jisung. Hyunjin. Jeongin. Seungmin. Changbin. And every single player in red and black, running, charging, colliding with the Levanter Lobos players who dared to lay their hands on the cheer squad.
It happens so fast. A player from Miroh slams into the guy gripping Ryujin, sending him sprawling onto the ground. Another tackles the one who had been yanking on Lia’s skirt, sending both of them crashing into the dirt.
It’s an all-out fucking brawl. Bodies crash together, fists swing, jerseys rip, grunts and yells echoing across the field as punches land with sickening accuracy. Players tackle each other to the ground, limbs tangling as they struggle to overpower their opponents.
Somewhere in the chaos, you shove the guy holding you as hard as you can, your heart racing as you stumble backwards, but before you can take another step, he and his friend grab you again. A gasp catches in your throat as fingers dig into your arm, another hand gripping at your waist, trying to restrain you.
“You little bitch-”
And then, they’re gone, ripped away from you in an instant. Felix, his usually soft features twisted into pure rage, tearing the guy off of you, his fist connecting with his jaw with a force that makes the fucker stumble back. Chan, his jaw clenched, his muscles tensed, yanking the second guy back by the collar before slamming a fist into his gut, making him double over in pain.
Minho dances through the fight like he was born for this, dodging a wild swing from a Levanter player before delivering a brutal counter, his movements quick, calculated, dangerous. His opponent barely has time to react before Minho’s foot connects with his ribs, sending him crashing onto the ground.
Jisung is feral, throwing a well-placed punch that sends his opponent stumbling before following up with a knee to the stomach. Hyunjin moves like lightning, sidestepping an incoming hit before swinging his leg out in a brutal kick that takes his opponent’s legs out from under him.
Jeongin moves with a precision that’s deadly, swift, knocking his opponent to the ground with a calculated strike. Seungmin’s expression is cold, focused, as he slams a fist into the side of another player’s face, uncaring as he stumbles back, dazed. Changbin is an absolute tank, practically lifting one of the Levanter players before slamming him into the ground with a force that you're pretty sure makes the entire field shake.
Cheerleaders scramble back, their eyes wide, some of them clutching at each other as the fight rages on. You can feel Yeji wrap her arms around you, pulling you close, her body shaking as she watches the chaos unfold. Your own hands tremble as your mind races to process what just happened, what’s still happening.
The sound of whistles pierces through the night as the coaches and campus security flood the field, yelling for everyone to stand down. But not a single Maniac player stops until the Levanter Lobos players are down. Not until the damage is done.
The kitchen is eerily quiet, the dim overhead light casting a warm glow over the room, but the atmosphere is anything but comforting. You sit across from Seungmin at the kitchen table.
Your hands work carefully, methodically, as you clean the dried blood from Seungmin’s knuckles, dabbing at the split skin with a disinfectant-soaked cotton pad. He doesn’t flinch, barely even registers the sting, his anger is too potent, simmering beneath his skin like a slow-burning fire.
"I’m fine, Min," you murmur, voice soft as you move to clean the cut on his eyebrow. He’s still in his football uniform, dirt and sweat clinging to his skin, jaw clenched so tightly you can see the muscle twitch.
Seungmin exhales sharply through his nose. "It’s not fucking fine."
You sigh, shaking your head. "Min-"
He jerks his face away from your hand, eyes locking onto yours, burning. "No, don’t fucking ‘Min’ me. This is not fine. You getting grabbed like that, like you’re some fucking thing to be touched whenever some asshole feels like it? Not fine."
Your throat tightens, but you keep your expression neutral, keep your hands moving as you press another clean cotton pad against his brow. "Are you okay?" you ask, voice quieter now.
Seungmin lets out a sharp, humourless laugh. "No, actually, I’m fucking not."
You sigh again, more resigned this time. "Min, it’s life. I learned to deal with it a long time ago."
"You shouldn’t have to just deal with it."
You blink, momentarily caught off guard by the fury in Seungmin's voice.
"Just like you shouldn’t have had to deal with that piece of shit TA," Seungmin continues, voice sharp, practically vibrating with rage. "And you shouldn’t have to deal with all the other bullshit you go through just because you have fucking tits. And what’s worse? You’re fucking taught that it’s just life. But it’s not life. It’s bullshit."
"We all want to change the world, Min," you murmur, dipping the cotton pad back into the bowl of disinfectant. "But it won’t happen anytime soon."
"That’s not fucking good enough."
You swallow. "I know all the tricks, you know?" Your voice is softer now, tired. "Shouting fire instead of help, carrying deodorant because pepper spray is illegal. Knowing which shoes to wear in case I have to run. Walking with my keys between my fingers." You place the cotton pad down, exhaling slowly before meeting his eyes again. "This isn’t a burden you can carry for me, Min."
"I can try."
Your chest aches. "And I love you for that."
His breath shudders as he exhales, and then suddenly, he’s pulling you into a hug, his arms strong, steady, holding you close like he’s afraid to let go. You sink into it, pressing your face into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of sweat, cologne, and the faintest hint of the laundry detergent he always uses. For a long moment, the two of you just sit there, the weight of the night pressing down but not breaking you.
Then, Seungmin sighs, pulling back just enough to look at you. "I’m surprised the guys who grabbed you is still breathing after Chan and Felix got their hands on them." His lips quirk slightly, though there’s still anger lingering in his expression. "I mean, I assumed after you, Chan, and Felix made out at Side Effects, you’d be a little love polycule by now."
"What?"
Seungmin frowns. "You don’t remember?"
You stare at him. "No, the whole night is a fucking blur, I was wasted, remember? I thought you didn’t remember anything!"
Seungmin shrugs. "I didn’t at first."
You raise an eyebrow, suspicion creeping in. "And now?"
Seungmin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Until I was looking at pictures Changbin took and in the background and in the back is you, with Felix and Chan’s tongues in your mouth." He tilts his head slightly. "At the same time."
Your entire fucking body goes still and your brain stops functioning. The words sit there for a moment, just hanging, as you try to process what the fuck Seungmin just said. But all you can focus on is the way your stomach plummets, the way heat crawls up your neck, the way your heart starts pounding in your ears.
"What the fuck-"
Seungmin just watches you, waiting for the realization to fully hit.
And when it does, it hits hard.
"You’re fucking lying," you whisper, but even as you say it, there’s a gnawing feeling in your chest, a deep certainty that he’s not.
Seungmin shrugs. "I can show you the picture if you want."
You flail for something, anything, to latch onto. "How the fuck do you even know that’s what was happening? Maybe it was-"
"It was exactly what it looked like." Seungmin deadpans. "Don’t try to logic your way out of this, you were fully making out with them."
Seungmin watches you closely as you start wringing your hands, your eyes darting around the kitchen like you’re trying to physically locate an escape route from your own fucking reality. Your breathing picks up, the telltale sign of impending panic, and Seungmin knows he has exactly two seconds to do something before you completely freak out.
“Okay, okay,” he says quickly, his voice calm but firm. “No panic attacks, no freaking out. People kiss people all the time. It’s not that deep.”
You gawk at him, your whole body vibrating with the sheer magnitude of what he just dropped on you. "People kiss people all the time? Min, I kissed Chan and Felix at the same fucking time!"
He shrugs, his expression deliberately casual. "And? I’ve kissed Changbin.”
“You’ve WHAT?!”
You momentarily forget about your personal crisis and instead latch onto his, your hands slamming against the table as you lean in, your earlier panic momentarily shoved aside. “No, no, no. You do not get to say something like that and move on!” Your voice pitches, your thoughts now entirely derailed. “You and Changbin? Since fucking when?!"
Seungmin sighs, as if this is so inconvenient for him. "We’ve also blown each other."
Your hand flies to your chest like you’ve just been personally victimized by this information. "Kim fucking Seungmin, explain yourself right fucking now."
Seungmin tilts his head, a little smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I think you need some wine for this.”
"Oh, for sure," you agree immediately. "We need some fucking wine."
Without hesitation, you practically launch yourself toward the fridge, yanking the door open and grabbing the first bottle of wine you see. You twist the cap off, toss it somewhere over your shoulder and take a long sip straight from the bottle before shoving it into Seungmin’s hands.
"Okay," you breathe, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Talk."
Seungmin takes a casual sip, smacks his lips, and sets the bottle down with an obnoxiously casual expression. “Well,” he starts, leaning back in his chair. “It started when I started going to the gym more.”
You nod. “Okay, yeah, because you wanted to bulk up, got it.”
“Right,” Seungmin confirms, then lifts a finger. “And who is the most insanely jacked person we know?”
You narrow your eyes. “Changbin.”
“Exactly,” Seungmin says, smirking. “So, he offered to help me out with my training.”
You grab the wine bottle back, taking another sip before pointing at him with it. “Right, okay, makes sense. Keep going.”
Seungmin hums thoughtfully. “Well, you know how the gym gets all sweaty and intense-”
“Oh my God.”
“-and there’s just a lot of testosterone flying around,” he continues, completely unfazed by your reaction. “And, you know, sometimes after a workout, you just feel so pent up and, well, one thing led to another.”
You slap your free hand over your mouth. “You fucked.”
Seungmin shrugs. “We blew each other a few times and then, one time, I railed him in the gym showers.”
Your entire fucking worldview has been shattered so you shove the wine bottle back into Seungmin’s hands, as if forcing him to drink it will make this easier for you to process. He accepts it, taking another sip like he hasn’t just rocked your entire fucking world with this information.
You lean in, your voice barely above a whisper. "Wait, wait, wait." You place both hands on the table, steadying yourself. "Changbin the beefcake is a bottom?"
Seungmin snorts, nodding his head. "Yes."
You sit back, exhaling sharply. "That tracks."
Seungmin just smirks, taking another slow sip of wine.
You stare at him, processing, processing, and then, suddenly, a giggle bubbles up from your throat and then another. Until suddenly, you are laughing hysterically. Seungmin watches as you dissolve into laughter, your head thrown back, your entire body shaking with the sheer absurdity of this night.
But then, just as suddenly, the laughter turns into sobs. Your shoulders shake, your breath stuttering, the weight of everything finally catching up to you. Your body collapses forward, and Seungmin moves instantly, catching you before you can fall apart completely.
His arms wrap tightly around you, his hand cradling the back of your head as you sob into his shoulder, your fingers clutching at his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you together. He rocks you in his arms, his grip firm but gentle, his chin resting on the top of your head as you quietly sob against his shoulder. His hand rubs slow, steady circles on your back, the repetitive motion grounding you, keeping you from fully spiralling.
Your breathing is uneven, your body shaking as your mind keeps looping back to what happened. The rough hands on your body, the way your own strength wasn’t enough, the sheer helplessness of it all. The first time you’d broken free, only for him and his friend to grab you again, like you were just something to be handled, owned, controlled.
You hadn’t been able to fight back. Your body had gone into survival mode, your brain too stunned to react in the way you always thought you would. You froze. You fucking froze. And in a different scenario, in a different place, with different people- What would have happened?
Your stomach churns violently at the thought, your fingers clenching into Seungmin’s jersey as your anxiety surges, drowning you in worst-case scenarios.
Seungmin senses it immediately. “Shhh,” he murmurs, his voice low, soothing. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I got you, okay?” He rocks you a little more, his grip tightening, his body a solid, unmoving presence. “Nothing happened. You got out. You’re here. Breathe. Just breathe.”
You try, you really fucking try, but the thoughts just keep piling up, pressing down on your chest, making it harder to think, to move, to fucking breathe and then, the kitchen door creaks open.
Seungmin doesn’t let go right away, but you feel his head lift slightly, his arms adjusting around you as someone steps into the room. Minho. Still in his bloodied, torn football uniform, his hair damp with sweat, knuckles bruised and split, his expression carefully blank. His eyes scan the room, assessing, before landing on you, curled up in Seungmin’s arms, shaking.
“Give her to me,” Minho murmurs, voice gentle.
Seungmin exhales, his grip lingering for just a second longer before he slowly, carefully transfers you into Minho’s waiting arms. You barely have time to process the change before Minho pulls you in, his arms wrapping around you just as tightly, just as securely as Seungmin’s had.
Seungmin steps back, pausing only to squeeze Minho’s shoulder before silently exiting the kitchen, pulling the door shut behind him. It’s just you and Minho now. His hand smooths down the back of your hair, his other arm snug around your waist, anchoring you to him. He doesn’t say anything at first, just lets you settle against him, lets you breathe.
Slowly, your heartbeat starts to even out and Minho’s fingers stroke through your hair, his voice warm and steady when he finally speaks. “You did good, you know?” he murmurs.
Your throat is still too tight to respond, so you just blink at him.
Minho’s lips twitch, something fond glinting in his tired eyes. “With the protest.” He nods, his fingers still moving through your hair, lulling you into something calmer. “You made me proud.”
Your breath stutters slightly, something heavy pressing against your ribs, something that feels like both relief and overwhelm at the same time.
Minho smirks, tilting his head slightly. “Even though you don’t need a man’s validation-”
You let out a weak snort through your sniffles, and Minho grins, his thumb brushing gently against the back of your neck. “-you’ve got mine,” he finishes.
A laugh bursts from your chest, sudden and unplanned, bubbling up between your lingering tears. It’s messy, half-choked, breaking into a soft sob immediately after.
Minho doesn’t even flinch. His fingers just continue their path through your hair, his other hand rubbing soothing circles into your back, his voice a steady, warm murmur in your ear.
“I got you, cupcake,” he says, his voice low and steady. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. Not while I’m here. Not while we’re here.” He lets his chin rest against the top of your head. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know. You don’t have to believe it right now, but I’ll believe it for you.”
You sniffle against his chest, still fighting the wave of emotions pressing down on you.
Minho continues, voice unwavering. “You’re gonna get through this. You always fucking do.” His thumb rubs slow circles against your back. “And if you ever feel like you can’t, then you call me, and I’ll carry your ass through it. You hear me?”
You nod, pressing your face further into his chest.
Minho huffs out a quiet laugh. “Of course, you probably won’t need me, because you’re a fucking menace, and I pity anyone who ever thinks they can take you down.”
You don’t respond, but your lips twitch slightly.
Minho grins, tilting his head. “There she is.”
His words settle warmly in your chest, pressing into the cracks, filling the spaces where fear had tried to take root. Slowly, the weight on your chest eases.
Eventually, you shift in his hold, tilting your head up slightly. Your voice is hoarse when you finally speak. “Can I ask you something?”
Minho nods. “Of course.”
You hesitate for a second, then swallow, gathering your courage. “Did I really make out with Chan and Felix in Side Effects?”
“Yep.” He grins, his hand still stroking over your hair. “And it was hot.”
You let out a weak giggle, rolling your eyes, but before you can dwell on it too much, the panic returns. “What do I do about them?” you ask, biting your lip.
Minho hums, considering you for a second before shaking his head.
“One problem at a time, cupcake,” he murmurs, resting his chin atop your head again. “Right now, it’s just us. The rest of the world?” He closes his eyes, pulling you close. “It doesn’t exist.”
Chan and Felix stand in the dimly lit hallway, their muscles still tight from the adrenaline of the brawl, their bodies aching from the bruises forming beneath their torn and dirt-streaked jerseys. Neither of them speaks, their ears straining for any sound coming from behind the closed kitchen door where Minho and you are. Their fists clench, not from anger but from sheer helplessness.
When Seungmin steps out of the kitchen, closing the door behind him, both of them immediately straighten, their eyes locking onto his.
Seungmin sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck before meeting their stares. "I know you two like her," he says, voice low but firm. "And I know you want to help her. But right now? She needs Minho, okay? He's got it under control."
Chan and Felix exchange a look, neither of them questioning the truth behind his words. They want to be in there with you, to be the ones holding you together, but they also know Minho is the only one who can truly reach you when you're like this.
So they nod and Seungmin lets out a small breath of relief. "Good. Now, let's get you two cleaned up, you're both a fucking mess."
The living room has been turned into an impromptu first aid station. Blood-streaked towels litter the coffee table, open medical kits scattered between them. The air smells like antiseptic and sweat, and the low murmur of voices fills the space as the rest of the frat tend to their injuries.
Jisung is slouched on the couch, a bag of ice pressed against the side of his face, his cheekbone already swelling into a nasty bruise. Jeongin sits next to him, sniffling as Hyunjin holds a tissue to his still-bloody nose. Changbin is on the floor, legs sprawled out, dabbing at a cut on his knuckle with a disinfectant wipe, his lips pressed into a thin line.
The energy in the room is electric, but there’s no regret. Only satisfaction. Chan and Felix don’t hesitate before grabbing the med kits and moving to each other, Chan tugging Felix down onto the armrest of the couch as he tilts the younger’s chin up, examining the damage. Felix lets him, his hands curling around Chan’s thigh for balance as Chan gently cleans the scrape along his jaw, the cut he hadn’t even realized he had until now.
Seungmin crouches down in front of Changbin, grabbing a fresh antiseptic wipe and reaching for the cut on his chin. "Hold still," he murmurs, dabbing carefully.
Changbin watches him intently, his expression unreadable, his gaze flickering between Seungmin’s fingers and his lips. His usual tough, cocky demeanour is absent, replaced with something softer, something almost dreamy.
Seungmin notices but doesn’t say anything, his lips twitching slightly as he focuses on his task. His thumb brushes against Changbin’s skin, and Changbin visibly exhales, blinking like he’s just remembered where he is.
And then Hyunjin dramatically sniffs the air and everyone turns to look at him.
Seungmin furrows his brows. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Hyunjin takes a deep breath, wafting the air toward his face like he’s absorbing something supernatural. "You two," he says, eyes narrowing at Seungmin and Changbin. "I smell queerness."
Jisung snorts, nearly dropping his ice pack as Felix and Chan exchange grins, and Jeongin, who still has a tissue shoved up his nose, suddenly perks up.
"Oh, shit, he’s right," Jeongin says, nodding sagely. "It smells fruity in here."
"Very fruity," Jisung agrees, voice muffled as he presses the ice pack harder against his face. "Like a freshly blended smoothie of boy love romance brewing in real time."
"Like the softest fucking yaoi," Chan muses, tilting his head as he inspects Felix’s wound.
Felix, ever the chaos instigator, inhales deeply and then lets out an exaggerated "Mmm, yes, I smell gay yearning."
"Strong gay yearning," Hyunjin adds, nodding.
Changbin chokes, his face turning bright red. "Oh, for fuck’s sake-"
"Admit it, Binnie," Jisung drawls, grinning despite his swollen face. "You were fully giving Seungmin heart eyes just now."
Seungmin doesn’t even deny it. He just smirks, wiping the leftover antiseptic on Changbin’s chin. "I mean," he says, voice dripping with amusement, "can you blame him? I am pretty fucking hot."
Changbin groans, tilting his head back against the couch. "I hate all of you."
"No, you don’t," Felix says cheerfully.
Hyunjin gasps dramatically. "Wait, do you think Seungmin railed Changbin in the gym showers?"
The entire room turns to stare at Seungmin and Changbin who share a single pointed look.
Jeongin, still holding his tissue, narrows his eyes. "Wait a fucking second-"
"We are not talking about this right now," Seungmin says, standing up immediately.
"Which means it happened," Jisung sings.
"I hate all of you," Changbin repeats, burying his face in his hands.
Chan and Felix just smirk as they continue tending to each other’s wounds, the lighthearted chaos of the moment briefly allowing them to forget the violence of the night. Even if only for a little while.
The morning light filters in through the blinds, casting soft golden streaks across the walls of Minho’s room. You blink groggily, taking a moment to gather your thoughts, the weight of exhaustion still heavy in your bones. The scent of Minho’s laundry detergent clings to the oversized hoodie and sweatpants you borrowed from him last night, your usual routine after crashing in his bed.
Minho is once again passed out on the air mattress on the floor, one arm draped over his face, his mouth slightly open as soft snores escape him. His limbs are sprawled out, completely dead to the world, and you suppress a giggle.
The two of you had stayed up stupidly late watching British Love Island, a show Minho somehow managed to stream despite the fact that you were in Seoul. You don’t know how he did it, but he had simply smirked at you from behind his laptop, muttering something about a few VPN tricks and sheer determination before successfully pulling it up on his screen.
You had mocked the contestants, throwing popcorn at the screen every time someone made a questionable choice, and Minho had loudly judged every single one of them in the most Minho way possible.
“That man is built like an unevolved Pokémon.”
“She’s had her lips done. No way she hasn’t.”
"I would simply choose to have a personality instead of making out with the first man who acknowledges my existence."
"If I ever act like this, please drown me in the Han River."
You sit up slowly, wincing as you shift your hands against the blankets. Your wrists ache immediately, a dull, throbbing pain radiating from where the Levanter player had grabbed you, his fingers pressing too hard, too rough. You turn them over, and sure enough, the faint outlines of bruised handprints remain, ghostly reminders of what happened.
You exhale sharply, forcing yourself to move. Laying here, dwelling, won’t do anything.
Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you stand, stretching out the stiffness in your limbs before making your way out of Minho’s room. He doesn’t stir, not even when you carefully step over his sprawled-out limbs.
You make your way downstairs, the scent of something warm and savoury filling the air, leading you straight to the kitchen.
Inside, Chan and Felix are already up, standing by the stove as they move around effortlessly, their bodies bumping into each other occasionally as they work in perfect sync. Felix is focused on stirring a pot of kimchi-jjigae, the rich, spicy scent filling the kitchen and Chan is slicing rice cakes for the tteokbokki, the soft thud of his knife against the cutting board the only sound accompanying the quiet hum of their movements.
You hesitate for a second before softly clearing your throat. "Hey."
Felix looks up immediately, his lips curving into a soft smile. "Hey."
Chan turns at the sound of your voice, his eyes scanning you quickly, taking in the oversized hoodie, the tiredness in your face, the slight way your fingers are trembling as you wring them together. His brows pull together slightly, but he doesn’t say anything yet.
You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. "I’m sorry."
Chan frowns, setting the knife down. "What? Why?"
You shift on your feet, suddenly feeling small. "The protest, it was my idea. I pitched it to Yeji. If I hadn’t-" Your voice wavers slightly, and you hate how weak it sounds. "If I hadn’t, well, there wouldn’t have been the fight. I just wanted to- I don’t know-"
You squeeze your hands together, an anxious habit you can’t seem to break.
"No," Chan says firmly, his voice leaving zero room for argument.
"Absolutely fucking not," Felix adds, shaking his head.
Felix steps away from the stove, moving toward you with careful, deliberate steps, his hands twitching like he wants to reach for you but is holding himself back. "You are not blaming yourself for this, angel," he says, voice soft but stern. "None of this was your fault."
"Not a fucking ounce of it," Chan agrees. "The only people responsible for what happened were those fucking assholes. Not you. Never you."
Your throat tightens, emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface.
"You did something important," Felix continues, his voice warm, his eyes so unbearably kind. "You made a fucking statement. You didn’t just stand by and accept bullshit, you fought for something, for yourself, for everyone on that squad. You were brave."
Chan steps closer, his presence solid, warm. "Never doubt that," he murmurs. "Not for a fucking second."
You barely have time to react before you’re being wrapped in a solid, comforting side hug, Chan’s arm looping around your shoulders as he tugs you against him. The warmth of his skin seeps into you, grounding you, holding you together in a way you didn’t realize you needed.
You let yourself sink into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you inhale the faint scent of his cologne, something woodsy and warm, something safe.
Felix watches for a moment before nodding to himself, stepping back to the stove and returning to the kimchi-jjigae, stirring it with a soft hum.
You close your eyes for a second before speaking, voice quiet but certain. "I know I kissed you two at Side Effects," you say, feeling Chan’s arm tighten ever so slightly around your shoulders. "But can we talk about it some other time?"
Chan doesn’t hesitate. "Yeah, of course," he reassures you immediately. "Don't feel like you have to talk about it now, okay? No pressure."
You nod against his shoulder, exhaling as some of the tension in your chest loosens. "Thank you."
"You don’t have to thank me," Chan murmurs, his thumb rubbing small circles against your arm. "We’ll talk when you’re ready. No sooner."
Felix glances up from the stove, watching the two of you for a moment before turning back to the pan in front of him. You can feel his gaze lingering, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t say anything. He just lets you be.
After a few moments, you shift slightly, still leaning into Chan’s side. "The TA took power from so many girls at the college," you say, voice quieter now, more measured. "The protest was supposed to be our way of taking it back."
Felix sets the ladle down, turning to you fully. "You did take it back," he says firmly, eyes locked onto yours with unwavering intensity. "You and the whole cheer squad. What you did? That wasn’t just a protest, that was a fucking statement. You stood there, in front of the whole college, in front of him, and you didn’t back down. You didn’t let him fucking win."
Chan hums in agreement, squeezing your shoulder. "You were fucking brave. And I swear to fucking god, Y/N, if I ever hear you try to downplay that again, I will fight you."
You let out a weak laugh, shaking your head. "You’d lose."
"Yeah, probably," Chan admits with a grin. "But I’d still try."
Felix smirks, flipping the last of the rice cakes in the pan. "I’d pay to see that."
Chan pulls away slightly, his warmth lingering as he crouches down to rummage under the sink, grabbing a small tube of bruise cream. "Can I put this on your wrists?" he asks, already uncapping it. "It’ll make them less sore, and it won’t throb as much."
You glance down at your hands, at the faint outlines of bruised handprints that still linger on your skin, a sickening reminder of what happened. You hesitate for only a second before nodding. "Yeah. Okay."
Chan nods, his movements slow and careful as he squeezes a small amount of cream onto his fingers before gently reaching for your wrist. His touch is light, barely there, but the moment his fingertips brush over the bruised skin, you flinch involuntarily.
"Sorry," Chan murmurs immediately, pulling his hands back slightly. "I’ll be gentler."
"No, it’s okay," you say quickly, shaking your head. "Just keep going."
He nods again, his touch even softer this time, his fingers moving in slow, soothing circles over your skin, rubbing the cream in carefully. His brows are furrowed in concentration, lips pressed into a thin line, his whole body language radiating focus.
Felix, in the meantime, grabs nine plates and begins plating breakfast, moving with effortless ease as he finishes up the last of the cooking. He doesn’t comment on what Chan is doing, doesn’t interrupt, he just exists in the moment with you both, the three of you moving in a quiet, comfortable rhythm.
The world outside is still chaotic, still loud, but in here, in this small, warm kitchen, with Chan’s careful hands tending to your bruises and Felix humming softly as he plates food, it feels like, just for a second, you can breathe.
The football coach’s office is stifling, the air thick with barely contained rage as he paces back and forth behind his desk, his fists clenched at his sides, his face red with barely restrained fury. The walls, lined with framed jerseys and old game photographs, seem to close in, the fluorescent lights above buzzing irritatingly as he glares at the two of you standing in front of him.
Yeji stands slightly in front of you, her posture rigid, her chin tilted just high enough to let him know she’s not backing down. You, on the other hand, keep your hands clasped tightly together, wringing them to try and control the anxious energy buzzing through your body, your nails pressing into the soft skin of your palm as you fight the urge to fidget.
The coach slams his fist against the desk, making you jump slightly, but Yeji doesn’t even flinch.
"What the fuck were you two thinking?! You turned the fucking half-time show into a fucking circus! The news caught wind of this bullshit!" he continues, jabbing a finger toward his computer, where the screen is lit up with what is clearly a news article. "You two just fucking ruined the reputation of this football program!"
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard you taste iron and Yeji’s expression doesn’t waver.
"Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to have the school board breathing down my goddamn neck?!" The coach slams his palm against his desk again. "Do you know how many angry fucking calls I’ve had to sit through today?!"
You inhale sharply, keeping your breathing even, focusing on the slight sting of your fingernails pressing into your skin.
"And you know what?" he sneers, leaning forward. "Because of you two and your little fucking stunt, that game was cancelled. The biggest fucking game of the season, gone. Do you know how much money was lost because of that?! Do you fucking understand the damage you two caused?!"
His voice is booming, his face growing redder and redder with every word but Yeji still doesn’t move, her expression eerily calm despite the fire raging in the coach’s eyes.
"And the fight?" His lips curl into a sneer, his hands slamming onto his desk as he leans over it, glowering at both of you. "That was on you too. If you hadn’t pulled that little fucking stunt, the guys wouldn’t have started swinging, but instead, the whole goddamn field turned into a war zone."
He’s breathing hard now, his nostrils flaring, and for a moment, it almost seems like he’s done. Then he laughs, a short, bitter sound. "And guess fucking what?" he says, his voice dropping to something almost mocking now. "Because of your bullshit? That TA?" He points toward the screen, where a very familiar face is plastered all over the article. "He’s gone. Permanently."
"The media went fucking wild over the protest. The school couldn’t fucking hide it anymore, not with videos spreading like wildfire all over social media, so congratulations," he sneers, "you two just got him fucking fired."
Something burns in your chest, but you keep your mouth shut. Yeji, however, smiles. It’s small. Barely there. But you see it and from the way the coach’s eye twitches, he sees it too.
"You think that’s fucking funny?" he snaps.
Yeji shakes her head. "Not at all, Coach." Her tone is even, unreadable. "I just think it’s interesting that you’re angrier about the game than you are about the reason we protested in the first place."
The tension in the room is suffocating, and you feel the weight of it pressing against your chest, making it harder to breathe. The coach lets out a slow, measured breath before he smiles.
"Effective immediately, the entire cheer squad is suspended from the program.You two might not give a fuck about this school’s reputation," the coach continues, voice laced with venom, "but I do. And I will not have a squad of disruptive, attention-seeking, reckless fucking brats tarnishing this program."
Yeji tilts her chin up higher. "I authorized it," she says, her voice like steel. "As cheer captain, I take full responsibility for the protest." She turns to you then, her gaze gentler, though her posture remains firm. "Y/N has received her scolding. She can go now."
You hesitate but Yeji gives you a pointed look and you swallow thickly, turning on your heel and walk out of the office, your hands still trembling at your sides.
The shouting starts behind you as you walk away from the coach’s office, Yeji’s voice sharp and unwavering as she fires back at him, matching his fury with her own. You can’t make out the words anymore, not properly. It all feels muffled, like you’re underwater, the sounds distorted, blending together into an indistinct roar.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your hands still trembling at your sides as you walk down the hallway, your feet moving on autopilot. The weight of everything presses down on you, coiling tight in your chest, a mixture of emotions threatening to drown you.
You should be angry. You should be furious. The protest was necessary, the fight wasn’t your fault, and yet, here you are, punished for standing up for yourself.
Your fingers curl into fists as you walk, your breathing uneven, your vision unfocused. You barely register the sound of footsteps coming toward you until you bump into someone.
The impact jolts you slightly, knocking you back a step. You blink and find yourself face-to-face with Felix, his usual easygoing expression shifting into something more serious the second he gets a proper look at you. His brows knit together, his hands instinctively reaching out to steady you, gripping your arms gently.
"Angel," he says, his voice soft but concerned. "What’s wrong?"
You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. The emotions, the frustration, the exhaustion, it’s all sitting there, clawing at your ribs, but you can’t seem to get it out.
Felix doesn’t press you for an answer, instead, his grip on your arms tightens slightly, grounding you, and then, without hesitation, he grabs your hand. "Okay," he says firmly. "Come with me."
Your fingers instinctively curl around his, the warmth of his palm a steadying presence against your own. You don’t question it. You don’t ask why. You just nod, letting him lead you away from everything, away from the coach’s office, away from the suffocating weight of the conversation that just took place, away from the overwhelming noise of it all.
As he pulls you down the hallway, you manage to find your voice. "Where are we going?"
Felix glances over his shoulder at you, his lips twitching slightly into a knowing smirk. "Mine and Chan’s favourite place," he says. "I’ll text Chan to meet us there."
You blink at him, your fingers still wrapped around his. "I didn’t know you guys had a secret hideout."
"Well you do now," Felix says with a small grin, squeezing your hand gently before tugging you along, leading you out of the building and into the crisp afternoon air.
Felix leads you down a winding path, away from the bustling campus, past old industrial buildings and empty parking lots, until you reach the outskirts of Seoul. It takes about ten minutes before you arrive at your destination, an old scrapyard, tucked between rusted-out shipping containers and stacks of discarded metal parts.
The place is huge, sprawling out in all directions, piles of junk reaching up toward the sky. There are abandoned cars, broken appliances, and stacks of old furniture, all left to decay in this forgotten corner of the city.
You stare at it, blinking. "A scrapyard?"
Felix grins, clearly proud of himself. "Yep!"
You look at him, then back at the scrapyard. "Okay, but why?"
Felix tugs you further in, stepping over a pile of rusted pipes, leading you toward an old workbench near the centre of the lot. There, sitting in an open wooden crate, is a collection of metal baseball bats, their surfaces scratched and dented from obvious use.
He gestures to them with a dramatic flourish. "So," he says, "whenever Chan or I are having a really bad day, we come here and we use these."
Your brows knit together as you stare at the bats. "And do what?"
Felix’s grin turns absolutely mischievous. "Break shit! It’s fun! You shout what you’re angry about as you smash things. Helps let it out."
You blink at him. "You just come here and destroy things?"
"Yep!" Felix says cheerfully, reaching down and picking up a bat, resting it against his shoulder like a professional. "Way cheaper than therapy."
You stare at him for a long moment before exhaling a laugh. "This is the most unhinged thing I’ve ever heard."
"And yet," Felix says, tilting his head, "you kinda wanna try it, don’t you?"
You hesitate. You do. There’s something appealing about it, something cathartic about the idea of taking a bat to something breakable and not having to worry about consequences. Before you can respond, the sound of sneakers hitting pavement catches your attention.
Chan jogs into view, slightly out of breath but grinning, his curls bouncing with every step. "Sorry, sorry," he pants, coming to a stop beside Felix. "Had to sneak out of practice before coach finished arguing with Yeji."
Felix snickers. "So what you’re saying is, we need to get this anger session started before he figures out we're gone?"
"Exactly," Chan huffs, running a hand through his damp curls before turning to you. "You ready to get mad?"
You hesitate again, still unsure, but before you can overthink it, Chan hands you a pair of safety goggles. "Gotta protect those pretty eyes," he says with a wink, before putting a pair on his own face.
Felix hands you a bat, practically vibrating with excitement as he grabs one for himself. "Don’t think too much about it," he says. "Just let it out. Watch and learn, angel."
Felix takes a step forward, rolling his shoulders, then grips the bat with both hands. He scans the area, eyes landing on an old television set half-buried under a pile of scrap. "Okay, I’ll start," he says, adjusting his stance. "I fucking hate those Lobos bastards."
Then he swings and the bat connects with the glass screen of the TV, shattering it on impact. The crash echoes through the scrapyard, shards flying, the sheer force of the hit making the TV collapse inward.
"Fuck yes!" Felix cheers, shaking out his arms. "That felt amazing."
Chan grins, stepping up beside him. "My turn."
He grips his own bat, eyes scanning the area before landing on an old car door, slightly unhinged from its frame. "I hate that guys get away with hurting women because they can. Because society lets them." His voice is steady, but there’s a sharp edge to it, something dark simmering beneath his usual calm demeanour.
The impact of Chan’s swing is deafening, the metal bending brutally beneath his strength. The door caves inward, the force of the hit making it rattle against the ground and Chan exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders before turning to you. "Your turn."
You stare at them and then down at the bat in your hands. "I don’t know what to say."
"Say whatever you feel," Felix encourages. "Doesn’t have to be deep. Just let it out."
You take a breath, adjusting your grip on the bat. Your eyes flicker around the scrapyard until you spot an old rusted-out filing cabinet, the metal already warped from years of exposure.
You shift your stance, adjusting your hands on the bat. "I hate that we got punished for the protest," you say hesitantly.
Then, tentatively, you swing. The bat connects with the cabinet, sending a dull clang ringing through the air. The hit isn’t as strong as theirs, but the impact still sends a thrill up your arms, a spark of something electric settling in your chest.
Felix whoops, clapping his hands. "That’s our girl!"
Chan grins. "Again."
Something in you clicks and you adjust your grip, planting your feet more firmly. "I hate that we were the ones who had to stand up for ourselves!"
You swing again, harder this time. The bat crashes against the metal, leaving a dent.
"Yes!" Chan yells.
"I hate that the TA got away with it for so long!"
Another swing. Another impact.
"I hate that people like him exist, that people like him win all the fucking time!"
The bat slams into the cabinet, the force making your arms shake, but you don’t care, you don’t care because suddenly you’re furious, the weight of everything, the anger, the helplessness, the fucking injustice of it all, pouring out of you.
Felix and Chan start joining in, their voices rising with yours, bats swinging, metal crunching, glass shattering. The scrapyard is filled with laughter, with shouts, with the pure catharsis of letting go. By the time you’re done, you’re breathless, your hands shaking not from fear, but from the adrenaline rush of it all.
Felix drops his bat first, turning to you with a huge grin. "Feel better?"
"Yeah," you say, breathless. "I really fucking do."
The three of you stand amidst the wreckage of the scrapyard, your breathing still slightly uneven from the sheer adrenaline of smashing things. The sun hangs lower in the sky now, casting an orange glow over the metal and broken glass scattered around you. Chan and Felix are grinning, eyes bright with excitement, as if they’ve just finished the best therapy session of their lives.
"I think I’m ready to talk about the kisses now."
Felix’s smile lingers for a second before he blinks, tilting his head. "Yeah?"
Chan rubs at the back of his neck, a small smirk playing on his lips, but his expression is carefully neutral. "Okay, let’s talk about it."
You nod, adjusting your stance slightly as you tighten your grip around the bat still resting in your hands. "I just... I want to know what you two were thinking. Because you two are already together, so I don’t-" You hesitate, struggling to find the right words. "I don’t get it?"
Felix immediately steps closer, reaching out to take your hand gently in his. His grip is warm, grounding, as he meets your gaze with nothing but sincerity. "We’re together," he says softly, "but we like you too, sweetheart."
Your brain short circuits and you blink. Then you point at yourself silently, tilting your head to the side, because surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying.
Felix laughs, his grip tightening around your fingers. "Yes, you," he confirms.
Chan, who has been watching this entire interaction with poorly concealed amusement, lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. "You really had no clue, huh?"
Your lips part slightly, but no words come out. Your thoughts feel scrambled, like someone just hit shuffle on your entire fucking life.
"We’ve been flirting with you for months," Chan continues, crossing his arms over his chest. "But you never realised."
"You were flirting with me?"
Chan snorts. "Oh my God, yes."
Felix grins, nodding along. "Like, blatantly, sweetheart. Like, we could not have made it more obvious if we tried."
You squint at them, your brain scrambling to backtrack, to replay every interaction you’ve had with them over the past few months, trying to see if you missed something.
"Okay, but what does that mean?" you finally ask, shifting your weight slightly. "Like, what are you saying, exactly?"
Felix squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly. "A polycule, a throuple, a triangle of love," he says. "All three of us."
You take a breath. "So is this a date?"
Chan grins, shaking his head. "No."
Felix lets out a soft laugh. "We’d do a date properly, sweetheart."
Chan gestures around at the wrecked scrapyard, raising an eyebrow. "Think of this as, like, a pre-date date."
You blink again and Felix beams. "She’s buffering."
"She is," Chan agrees, amused.
You roll your eyes, finally finding your words again. "I was not buffering, I was just processing!"
"Sure, sure," Felix teases, bumping his shoulder against yours. "So, does that mean we get an actual date?"
"Yeah. I think I’d like that."
The air is warm as you step out of your apartment building, a gentle breeze brushes through your hair, making the loose strands dance around your face as you shift your bag over your shoulder, scanning the parking lot for Chan’s car and there they are.
Leaning casually against Chan’s sleek black car, both of them looking like they walked straight out of a streetwear editorial.
Felix is the first to notice you, his eyes lighting up instantly, a huge grin stretching across his face. He pushes himself off the side of the car, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black-and-white windbreaker jacket. The oversized fit of it drapes over his frame effortlessly, the simple white tank underneath hinting at the toned muscle beneath. His black knee-length shorts give him an almost skater-boy edge, thick socks scrunched up over his chunky black combat boots, the entire look screaming casual but expensive.
Chan follows Felix’s gaze and turns toward you, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He stands, dressed in all black, his fitted ribbed tank top hugging his frame in a way that makes your stomach flutter just a little bit. His black knee-length shorts are loose but structured, the perfect blend of relaxed and stylish, paired effortlessly with his black sneakers. The final touch, a soft grey beanie, rests snug over his curls, making him look even softer than usual, despite the way his muscles flex as he stretches.
Both of them take their time drinking in the sight of you, their eyes flickering over your outfit, the cropped white tank layered under your slouchy grey zip-up hoodie, the way the slightly oversized fit makes you look effortlessly comfortable but still put together. The black flares hug your legs perfectly, the hem grazing the tops of your chunky white sneakers, a simple but stylish choice. And the black ruched shoulder bag resting against your hip completes the look with a subtle touch of chic.
Felix whistles, tilting his head as he gives you a once-over. "Damn, angel," he muses, his eyes sparkling. "You clean up nice."
Chan snorts, rolling his eyes at Felix before stepping forward slightly, his gaze softer, more appreciative. "Told you comfy would suit you," he murmurs, reaching out to tug at the edge of your hoodie playfully. "You look perfect."
Your face warms slightly under their attention, but you mask it with a playful eye roll. "You two act like I showed up in a ballgown or something," you say, crossing your arms.
Felix gasps dramatically. "That would’ve been iconic!"
Chan chuckles, shaking his head. "C’mon, let’s get going." He pulls open the car door, gesturing toward the passenger seat with a teasing grin. "Unless you plan on standing there and letting us admire you all day?"
You huff a laugh, shaking your head as you climb into the car. "You act like you don't admire me all the time anyway."
Felix, climbing into the backseat, laughs loudly. "She’s got a point, Channie."
Chan just grins, starting the engine as Felix settles in behind you, the doors closing with a soft thunk. As the car hums to life, you turn to Chan, raising an eyebrow. "So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?"
Felix leans forward between the seats, resting his chin on your shoulder with a smug grin. "That would ruin the fun, sweetheart."
You groan, slumping back into your seat. "You two are menaces."
Chan laughs, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel as he pulls out of the parking lot. "You’ll love it, trust us."
The car rolls to a smooth stop, and you glance out the window and you see the large, softly lit sign of a luxury spa. The building is sleek and modern, the entrance framed by elegant gold accents, the kind of place that screams relaxation and comfort.
You blink in mild surprise as Chan shifts the car into park, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. He turns to you, his smirk nothing short of pleased with himself. "See? Comfort."
Felix unbuckles his seatbelt, already stretching in the backseat, his grin mischievous. "We figured you could use a break," he says, voice warm. "And let’s be real, we needed one too."
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you lean back against the headrest. "I haven’t been to the spa in ages."
Chan raises an eyebrow. "Then it’s about time we changed that."
You sigh dramatically. "The last time I went, it sucked because Seungmin kept pointing out violations in the law the entire time. He literally made a list."
Felix laughs loudly, shoving open his door. "Of course he did."
You step out of the car, stretching your arms above your head as you take in the building. "Alright, so what’s the plan here? What kind of spa day am I in for?"
Felix steps beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulder, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "We booked a private room just for the three of us," he says, his fingers squeezing your shoulder lightly. "TV, face masks, nice food, the works."
You raise an eyebrow. "No massages?"
Felix smirks, his grip tightening slightly before he leans down to whisper, "Not unless you want me to do it."
Your breath hitches for half a second before you scoff, shoving his arm off of you. "Oh my God, you’re impossible."
"I try my best," Felix says with a wink.
Chan, clearly amused by the entire exchange, nudges you toward the entrance. "Come on, let’s get inside before Felix starts offering his services to random strangers too."
Felix places a hand over his chest dramatically, gasping in mock offence. "I would never-"
"You absolutely would," you and Chan say at the exact same time.
Felix pouts as he follows you both inside. "You guys have no faith in me."
The moment you step inside the spa, the air changes, it’s warm and inviting, carrying the faintest scent of lavender and chamomile, the kind of atmosphere that immediately makes your muscles loosen.
The reception area is sleek and minimalist, the lighting soft, the furniture unreasonably comfortable-looking. There’s a quietness to the space, a peaceful hum that settles deep in your chest, already melting away the tension you hadn’t even realized you were still carrying.
Felix is practically buzzing beside you, clearly excited about this whole plan. "See, angel? No stress. No noise. Just us, hiding from the frat, doing nothing for a few hours."
You huff a laugh, already feeling yourself relax at the idea. "So basically, we’re having a quiet, lowkey movie day with face masks and food, where the rest of the frat can’t find us?"
Chan nods, his smirk widening slightly as he pushes open the door to the private room with Bang on the door. "Exactly."
You grin, looking between the two of them. "I love it."
The private room at the spa is stupidly nice, plush seating, a huge flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, dim lighting that makes everything feel way more expensive than it probably is. The air smells like fresh linen and essential oils, something soft and calming, and the walls are lined with neatly arranged trays filled with skin-care products, towels, and refreshments. There’s even a massive sofa with fluffy blankets thrown over the back, making it perfect for sinking into and never leaving.
As soon as you step inside, Felix throws his arms up with a grin. "Hell yeah, private luxury, baby!"
Chan shakes his head, but you can see the fond smile tugging at his lips as he walks over to the TV, grabbing the remote. "Alright, what are we feeling? Classic Disney or some random bullshit?"
Felix, without missing a beat, plops down onto the sofa and stretches out dramatically. "Classic Disney, obviously."
You smirk, kicking off your sneakers near the door before making your way toward him. "You say that like you don’t always pick Disney movies when you’re hungover."
"And I stand by it," Felix says, dead serious. "Disney movies heal people, angel. It’s science."
Chan hums in agreement, scrolling through the options before clicking on Beauty and the Beast. "Perfect."
You grin, flopping down beside Felix as he immediately grabs one of the spa’s fluffy blankets, throwing it over both of your laps. Chan joins you a second later, sighing as he stretches his legs out as Felix reaches over to poke your side. "Alright, before we get too comfy, we’re doing face masks."
You brighten up immediately. "Oh, hell yes."
"But-" Chan starts.
"No buts," Felix cuts him off, sitting up. "We’re pampering you tonight, Channie. Don’t fight it."
Chan groans. "Why do I feel like I’m about to regret this?"
Felix ignores him, already reaching for one of the spa’s pre-packaged clay mask powders. You scoot closer, peering at the instructions before Felix unceremoniously dumps the powder into a bowl.
"How much water does it need?" you ask.
Felix shrugs. "Eh, I’ll just eyeball it."
Chan immediately lifts his head. "Wait-"
Too late. Felix dumps an arbitrary amount of water into the bowl, the mixture immediately turning into something that looks more like thin oatmeal than a face mask.
"Looks… fine?" you say.
Felix nods. "Yeah, totally fine."
Chan squints at you both. "It’s fucking liquid."
"Shhh," Felix hushes him, grabbing a brush and stirring. "It’s gonna be great."
Chan sighs like he knows this is going to go terribly, but still sits up obediently, letting you and Felix hover over him as you both dip brushes into the bowl of sludge.
You bite your lip, trying so hard not to laugh as you swipe the mask onto Chan’s forehead. It immediately starts sliding down toward his eyebrow.
"Oh my god," you whisper. "It’s so bad."
Felix snorts, painting a thick, gloopy streak down Chan’s cheek, only for it to drip toward his jaw. "It’s art, angel. Let it happen."
Chan stays painfully still as you and Felix struggle to contain your laughter, the mask refusing to stick properly to his skin. Then Felix grabs the cucumber slices from the refreshments tray and just starts slapping them onto Chan’s face.
"There we go," Felix says, deadpan. "Perfect."
Chan sits there stoically, his entire face covered in dripping face mask and randomly placed cucumber slices, looking like he’s reevaluating all of his life choices.
"You two are actual menaces," he says flatly.
Felix beams. "Thank you."
You wipe tears from your eyes, your stomach hurting from laughing so hard. "It’s a look, honestly."
"I hate both of you," Chan mutters, though he doesn’t move to wipe any of it off.
Felix claps his hands together. "Alright, now it’s our turn."
You and Felix opt for sheet masks instead, much safer than the crime you just committed on Chan’s face. The cool fabric presses against your skin as you smooth the mask over your features, the slight tingle from the serum oddly soothing.
Felix leans back, sighing happily. "Skincare gods, bless me tonight."
Chan, who still has a single cucumber slice hanging off his cheek, just shakes his head. "You two better not fucking take pictures."
"No promises," Felix replies immediately.
You giggle, adjusting your sheet mask before Felix suddenly perks up, his eyes landing on a small manicure kit near the refreshments table.
"Oh? Oh."
"What?" you ask, following his gaze.
Felix grins, grabbing the small kit and waving it in front of your face. "I’m doing your nails, angel."
Your brows lift. "Are you even good at it?"
"Excuse me," Felix gasps, placing a hand to his chest like you deeply offended him. "I have skills, Y/N. Let me prove myself."
You glance at Chan, who is still sitting there with cucumber chaos on his face, watching the two of you with his arms crossed. "Should I trust him?"
Chan shrugs. "No idea. This is new information to me."
Felix pouts. "You doubt me?"
"Absolutely," you tease.
Felix huffs but still gently grabs your hands, pulling them into his lap. "Doubt all you want, sweetheart. You’ll be thanking me when I make these nails look amazing."
You smile, letting him file and buff your nails, the repetitive motion oddly calming.
Chan, still stuck in his gloopy mask, watches silently, his head tilted slightly as he listens to you and Felix giggle at each other. You catch the way his lips quirk slightly at the corners, the affection in his gaze as he watches Felix compliment you nonstop while painting your nails.
"This color matches your hair," Felix hums, carefully brushing on the polish. "You’re gonna look so fucking cute."
You roll your eyes but grin, watching the polish glisten under the dim lighting. "I’ll admit, you’re not bad at this."
"Told you," Felix sing-songs, sticking his tongue out.
Chan exhales a soft laugh, adjusting the cucumber slice barely hanging onto his nose. "I can’t believe this is my life."
"You love it, don’t lie."
Felix finishes up, blowing lightly over your nails before beaming at you. "Perfect. My best work yet."
You wiggle your fingers, admiring them. "Okay, I kinda love them."
"Told you," Felix says smugly.
An hour later, the three of you are completely settled into the plush sofa, tangled up in the kind of warmth that comes from being full, comfortable, and undeniably spoiled. The spa staff have been slipping in and out quietly, refilling plates with fresh fruit, delicate pastries, and warm, fragrant tea that you’re sure costs more than your monthly grocery bill.
The TV now plays Peter Pan, the familiar scenes casting a soft glow over the dimly lit room. It feels perfect, the kind of peace you never realized you needed until you were right here, living in it.
Felix is pressed against one side of you, his body warm beneath the fluffy blanket you’re sharing, fingers idly tracing patterns against your knee. Chan is on the other side, one arm draped over the back of the couch, the occasional brush of his fingertips against your shoulder sending tiny sparks up your spine. All of you have matching nail polish now, Felix’s idea, obviously. His nails, Chan’s nails, your nails, all a perfect glossy shade that matches the soft lavender tones in your hair.
Felix tilts his head toward you, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. "So how did we do?"
You hum thoughtfully, sipping your tea, dragging out the moment just to make them wait for it. "Well," you start, setting your cup down carefully. "Neither of you has asked me for a lock of my hair yet, so already, you’re doing better than my worst date ever."
Chan snorts, shaking his head. "No fucking way."
"Swear to God," you say, solemnly. "Dude just straight-up looked me in the eyes and asked if he could keep a piece of me like I was a goddamn Victorian ghost bride."
Felix wheezes, his entire body shaking against yours. "Angel, what the fuck?"
"You’re telling me!" you exclaim, throwing a hand up. "And I still had to sit through the rest of that meal because he drove us there and I didn’t want to die walking home."
Chan sighs dramatically, shaking his head. "This is why we’re never letting you date people we haven’t pre-approved."
Felix hums in agreement. "Exactly. We’re your new dating consultants."
"Or," Chan adds smoothly, his fingers brushing lightly against the bare skin of your forearm, "you just date us instead."
You glance between them. Felix, his bright mischievous gaze locked onto yours, his fingers still tracing gentle lines against your knee. Chan, steady and certain, looking at you with something deep, something that makes your heart skip a little too fast.
Felix licks his lips. "Can we kiss you?"
Your breath catches, your fingers tightening around the blanket without meaning to and you nod. Chan chuckles, tilting his head. "You better remember this time."
Felix leans in first, closing the space between you so smoothly that it feels seamless, like he’s been waiting for this moment all night. His lips brush over yours, gentle at first, almost teasing, before he deepens it, tilting his head to slot against you more perfectly.
His lips are soft, slightly sweet from the tea, moving against yours with a warmth that sends a spark straight through your body. His fingers slide up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he takes his time, savoring the kiss like he never wants it to end.
The second Felix pulls away slightly, Chan is there, his lips pressing to yours in an entirely different way, firmer, more certain, like he’s been dying to do this. His fingers slip beneath your chin, tilting your head just right so he can kiss you deeper, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction as he feels you melt against him.
Felix is still there, still watching, his breath slightly uneven as he lingers close, his forehead brushing against yours when Chan finally pulls away. For a second, you’re just breathing, lips tingling, your heart hammering so hard you’re surprised they can’t hear it.
Then Felix grins, tilting his head. "One more."
And then he’s kissing Chan, right in front of you, moving into him so smoothly that it feels natural, like it’s something they’ve done a thousand times before which they have. Chan hums against his lips, his hand sliding up into Felix’s hair, pulling him in closer as he tilts his head. Your breath catches, eyes locked onto the way Felix sighs softly against Chan’s mouth, the way their lips move together in sync, the way they fit.
Felix pulls away first, his lips pink, his eyes still half-lidded as he turns back to you. "Now you."
You don’t even know who kisses who next, because the next thing you know, Felix’s fingers are threading through your hair as he tugs you back in, his mouth slotting perfectly against yours as you sigh into the kiss.
Chan laughs softly against your jaw before pressing kisses there too, his lips brushing over your skin, trailing soft, teasing pecks down your neck. Felix nips at your lower lip before pulling away, pressing his forehead to yours as he exhales a soft laugh. "You definitely remember this time, right?"
You let out a breathless giggle, feeling a little dizzy from the warmth of them both surrounding you. "I think it’s burned into my brain forever."
"Good," Chan murmurs, nudging his nose against your temple before pressing a slow, deliberate kiss there.
Felix sighs happily, nuzzling into your other side. "We should do this more often."
You laugh, tilting your head slightly to bump against his. "What, make out?"
"Yes," Felix replies immediately.
"Yes," Chan agrees.
You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. "You two are the worst."
"And yet," Felix teases, his fingers slipping beneath your hoodie to brush against your waist, "here you are."
Chan hums in agreement, his arm wrapping firmly around your waist, tugging you even closer. "And you’re not running away."
"Nope," you say, smiling to yourself as you rest your head against Chan’s shoulder, Felix’s arm still wrapped around your middle. "Not running at all."
Chan presses a final kiss against the top of your head before letting out a satisfied sigh. "Yeah. I think this date went pretty well."
Felix grins. "Same time next week?"
"Sounds perfect."
The air is thick with tension and the undeniable hum of adrenaline as the half-time whistle echoes through the field. The Miroh Maniacs and the Cle Cobras break away from the first half of the game, sweat dripping down their faces, jerseys clinging to their bodies from the intensity of the match. The Maniacs have been dominating the field, outrunning and outplaying the Cobras at nearly every turn, and the scoreboard reflects that perfectly, Miroh sitting comfortably with a twelve-point lead.
The bleachers are alive with roaring cheers, students decked out in Maniacs’ red and black, waving banners and throwing their arms in the air as the players jog to the sidelines for a much-needed water break.
You, however, are not down on the track with your team, shaking pom-poms and hyping up the crowd like you should be. Instead, you and the rest of the suspended cheer squad are sitting on the front row of the bleachers, your legs casually crossed over one another, exuding pure nonchalance despite the fact that you’re not technically supposed to be here.
Your red ribbed turtleneck sweater fits snugly, hugging your torso in a way that makes you feel both comfortable and a little bit powerful. The black pleated mini skirt you paired it with barely brushes mid-thigh, but the real finishing touch to your outfit is the black bomber jacket draped over your shoulders, Chan’s jacket, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the fabric. You tug it around yourself, adjusting the sleeves slightly as you lean back, shifting your black rectangular sunglasses higher onto the bridge of your nose.
Beside you, Yeji is practically vibrating in place, her fingers tapping against the metal bleachers, her body buzzing with anticipation. "How much longer?" she mutters under her breath.
You smile, shifting slightly as you glance toward the centre of the field. "Should be any second now."
None of the other cheerleaders know why the two of you are waiting so eagerly, why you’re both sitting there grinning like you own the place, practically giddy despite your suspension. But they’re about to find out.
Lia, who’s seated a few spots down, narrows her eyes suspiciously as she leans forward. "Alright, what the fuck are you two plotting?"
Yuna, her brows furrowed, leans in next to her. "Yeah, you’re acting way too smug for two people who are technically banned from cheering right now."
Ryujin crosses her arms over her chest, tilting her head as she watches you both closely. "What the fuck are you hiding?"
You and Yeji exchange one glance and then, simultaneously, you grin as the opening beats of Queencard by (G)I-DLE explode through the field speakers.
A ripple of confusion spreads through the crowd, heads snapping toward the field as the Miroh Maniacs, Chan, Felix, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Seungmin, Jeongin and the rest of the team, come jogging out of the changing rooms and they’re not in their usual jerseys. They’re in cheerleading uniforms. The same red and black skirts, the same cropped tops with MIROH MANIACS emblazoned across the front, the same pom-poms clutched in their hands. And then they start dancing.
Yeji gasps beside you, slapping your arm as the entire squad erupts into laughter, screams of shock and delight echoing across the front row of the bleachers.
"NO. FUCKING. WAY." Ryujin cackles, doubling over. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?"
Lia shrieks, gripping Yuna’s wrist as the two of them lose their minds, their laughter barely heard over the crowd that is absolutely eating this up. You knew this was happening, you and Yeji personally helped teach them the choreography in secret, but seeing it now, in full effect, is something else entirely.
Chan, smirking, perfectly in sync with the rest of the team, spins on his feet before dropping low, his movements sharp and fluid, perfectly timed with Felix, who is on his left.
Felix, his grin shining brighter than the fucking sun, shakes his pom-poms before tossing them up dramatically, winking straight at you. You laugh, doubling over as Yeji clutches her stomach, shaking with laughter.
"Oh my GOD," you giggle, covering your mouth. "They’re actually doing it! They’re fucking doing it!"
The Miroh Maniacs execute every single move with alarming accuracy, hitting each step of the routine flawlessly, their footwork sharp, their hip rolls too precise for comfort.
"THEY’RE SO GOOD," Yuna screeches, hands clutching her cheeks. "WHY ARE THEY SO GOOD?"
"This was Chan and Felix’s idea," Yeji gasps out, still laughing, barely able to breathe. "*They wanted to do it for us, for you, especially."
Your heart flutters wildly at that, but you barely have time to process it before: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT?!"
The coach’s voice explodes from the sidelines, his face turning an alarming shade of red, his arms flailing wildly as he marches up and down the field. "WHO THE FUCK APPROVED THIS?! THIS IS A FOOTBALL GAME, NOT A GODDAMN CIRCUS!"
You burst out laughing, your whole body shaking as you watch the coach lose his absolute mind, veins popping in his neck, hands thrown in the air like he’s praying for patience. "LEE MINHO, STOP FUCKING GRINDING ON YOUR TEAMMATES AND PLAY FOOTBALL!"
Minho, who is currently rolling his hips like he was born to do this, smirks at the coach and winks. "Sorry, Coach! Gotta keep my form tight!"
"STOP WINKING, YOU MENACE-"
Before the coach can fully combust, the entire field erupts in a deafening scream as Jisung, wild-eyed and completely unhinged, does a quick spin, drops low, then BENDS OVER and flips his skirt up, revealing a pair of lacy red panties.
"OH MY GOD," Lia shrieks, practically collapsing against Yuna. "WHAT THE FUCK IS HE WEARING?!"
"WHY DIDN’T WE KNOW ABOUT THIS?!" Ryujin screams, clutching onto your jacket.
The crowd is going insane, whistling and whooping as the Cle Cobras are staring in pure disbelief, some of them doubled over, others just straight-up wheezing on the field.
Jisung, still bent over, ass on full display, smacks his own ass and blows a kiss to the crowd.
"HAN JISUNG, YOU ARE DONE, YOU HEAR ME?! DONE-"
"You can’t stop me, Coach," Jisung purrs, flipping his skirt back down. "I was born to be a star."
You are crying, tears are streaming down your face, your lungs giving out from how hard you’re laughing. And then Chan and Felix, grinning like absolute shitheads, blow you kisses. You barely manage to catch your breath before you instinctively blow one back.
Yeji gasps beside you, her mouth falling open. "NO!"
You blink. "What?"
"YOU SNAGGED CHAN AND FELIX?!" Yeji demands, her eyes wide with betrayal.
You laugh, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, I’m not their girlfriend yet but pretty much?"
Ryujin groans, throwing her head back. "Fucking FINALLY."
"Wait, hold on, hold on-" Yuna waves her hands wildly, her eyes darting between you and the two men who are still watching you from the field, clearly entertained by your reaction. "When the fuck did this happen?!"
"I KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP," Lia gasps, hitting Ryujin’s arm. "I KNEW IT!"
Before you can answer, the entire squad suddenly stills, eyes snapping back to the field. Because Minho is now bent over in front of Jisung and Jisung is pretending to spank him and Yeji freezes. "...We didn’t teach them that, right?"
You tilt your head, watching Minho throw a wink over his shoulder as Jisung dramatically smacks the air behind him. "No," you say, grinning. "But I love it."
And as the crowd erupts once more, the Miroh Maniacs fully committed to their performance, the coach on the verge of a stroke, you think, that this might just be the best halftime show you’ve ever seen.
The second half of the game is a bloodbath. Whatever little morale the Cle Cobras had left after that halftime show is utterly destroyed by the time the whistle blows again. The Miroh Maniacs hit the field running, and it’s clear they have no intention of letting up.
Chan, back in his usual jersey, is all business, barking out plays, directing his team with sharp, decisive gestures. Felix moves lightning-fast across the field, agile and lethal, outmanoeuvring every single defender that tries to get in his way. Minho and Changbin are unstoppable, bulldozing through the Cobras' offence like they weren’t even there.
Hyunjin, graceful and calculated, dances across the field with the ball, spinning out of reach from grasping hands before launching a perfect pass to Jeongin, who slams it home into the end zone.
The crowd erupts. The Cle Cobras are absolutely done. By the time the final whistle finally sounds, the scoreboard is practically mocking them: Miroh Maniacs 42 - Cle Cobras 10
The crowd explodes in cheers, deafening, the entire student section losing their minds as the Maniacs gather at the centre of the field, whooping and shouting, piling onto each other in a sweaty, exhausted but exhilarated heap.
You’re already moving, practically hopping down from the front row of the bleachers as the team trots off the field, jerseys soaked with sweat, hair disheveled, their energy still thrumming with the high of their victory.
Chan and Felix are near the front, pulling at their jerseys to wipe the sweat off their faces, their skin flushed and shining under the bright field lights.
You grin, jogging over to meet them. "Not bad, Maniacs."
Chan snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulders as soon as you reach him, pressing a grossly sweaty kiss to your temple. "Not bad?"
"Absolutely not bad," Felix corrects, tugging at the collar of his jersey, trying to get some airflow. "We annihilated them, angel."
"True," you concede, letting them pull you in between them as they catch their breath. "Still doesn’t change the fact that Jisung stole the whole fucking show."
From the sidelines, where he’s chugging a bottle of water, Jisung whoops loudly, pumping a fist in the air. "Damn right, I did!"
Chan laughs, shaking his head. "I’m never letting him live that down."
"I don’t think any of us are," you agree. "That shit is going down in college history."
Felix grins, bumping his shoulder against yours. "That aside-" he starts, his voice slipping into something smoother, something teasing. "Did we dance good enough to become your boyfriends officially?"
You pretend to think about it, tapping your chin, humming dramatically. "Mmmm... I dunno..."
"Angel," Felix whines, leaning in closer, pouting like he’s actually suffering. "Don’t do this to us."
Chan huffs, reaching over to poke your cheek. "We put our bodies on the line for that performance, Y/N."
"We learned how to twerk," Felix deadpans, lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh. "For you."
You snort, finally turning to face them fully. "Fine, fine," you grin, throwing up your hands in mock defeat. "You pass. You’re my boyfriends now."
Before you can even process what’s happening, Chan and Felix lunge. Felix grabs your face, his hands warm, his grin radiant as he presses his lips to yours, soft, but giddy, like he can’t contain how fucking happy he is. The second he pulls away, Chan’s there, his hands firm on your waist as he tilts your chin up, kissing you with a little more pressure, a little more certainty, like he’s staking his claim.
When he pulls back, Felix giggling into his shoulder, you’re breathless, warmth blooming in your entire body.
"YOU’RE WELCOME!"
The three of you turn to see Jeongin, still sweaty and grinning like a little shit, has his hands cupped around his mouth, shouting from the sidelines. You burst into laughter, still pressed between Felix and Chan, who are both shaking their heads in exasperation.
"Little bastard," Chan mutters under his breath, but there’s nothing but fondness in his tone.
Felix sighs dreamily, leaning his head against your shoulder. "He really does deserve some credit."
"Only some," you grin, tilting your head slightly so Felix can press a kiss to your temple.
Chan snorts. "Disgusting."
"Jealous?" Felix smirks, lifting his head just enough to flutter his lashes.
"Deeply," Chan says flatly before tugging you back into him, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I call next kiss, fuck off."
Felix laughs, wrapping his arms around both of you as the team celebrates in the background, as the crowd cheers, as the stadium lights shine down and for the first time in forever, everything feels exactly the way it’s meant to be.
A/N: This draft has been sitting stewing for nearly two months because I got stuck on the plot after the scene in the coach's office but multiple anon requests for Chanlix made me reopen the document again and get to work <3 A/N 2: Also please look at my poll and answer so you have a say in what you see next
Requested by: multiple anons
Bang Chan Taglist: @0haerireah0
General Taglist: @nightmarenyxx @velvetmoonlght @annafee_bou @mlink64 @intoanothermind @furfoxsake22 @daaaph-lol @tirena1
Proofread by the lovely @eastjonowhere
#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#bang chan#lee know#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#bang chan x female reader#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x you#lee felix x y/n#lee felix x reader#lee felix x you#lee felix x female reader#chanlix x reader#chanlix#bang chan x lee felix#skz frat au#chan x reader#chan x you#chan x y/n#chan x female reader#felix x female reader#felix x y/n#felix x reader#felix x you
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69. "You know my name?" + chan omg im begging u or ill beat u to it and write it (lol stares at all my wips 💀)
call me by my name
Pairing: lc x f!reader | wc: 971 words prompt: "You know my name?" au: university au! | warnings: none a/n: HANEULLLLL thank u for the ask this was so cute and fun to write i hope you love it <33333
The lecture hall buzzed with the usual pre-class noise—pens tapping against desks, chairs creaking as students settled in, snippets of conversation floating from every direction. The air carried a faint hum of fluorescent lights, blending into the background chaos. You sat at your usual spot in the front row, pen poised and ready, eyes skimming the lecture notes you’d pulled up on your laptop.
Behind you, it was less preparation and more pandemonium.
“Seungkwan, what the fuck! Stop throwing shit at me!”
You didn’t have to look to know it was Soonyoung. His voice carried, loud and incredulous as always.
“That’s not throwing—it’s called handing,” Seungkwan shot back, his words dripping with mock seriousness. “Get some spatial awareness, idiot.”
The sound of a paper airplane slicing through the air followed, landing somewhere near your seat. You glanced down briefly at the crumpled attempt at aerodynamics before looking back at your notes.
“Is that supposed to be a plane or modern art?” another voice chimed in—Chan this time, laughter in his tone.
Turning your head slightly, you caught sight of the trio in their usual seats toward the back. Soonyoung had crossed his arms, glaring at the offending paper in Chan’s hand. Seungkwan was smirking triumphantly, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head.
“Give it here,” Chan said, snatching the airplane and inspecting it with exaggerated care. “Yeah, no. This isn’t a plane. This is, like… a bird that forgot how to fly.”
The paper flew again—this time courtesy of Chan—and barely made it past the second row before nose-diving onto the floor. The resulting laughter spread like wildfire across the room, even prompting a raised eyebrow from Professor Lee, who was just arriving.
“If the three of you could channel even half this energy into engineering,” the professor said, setting down his coffee with a thud, “you might actually pass this class.”
A round of chuckles rippled through the room as Chan held up his hands in mock surrender. “We’ll consider it!”
You shook your head, letting the familiar chaos wash over you. It had been like this all semester—Chan, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung acting as the unofficial class entertainment. Their antics had a way of filling the space, loud enough to distract but not enough to pull you from your work.
Professor Lee called the class to order, his voice steady as he launched into announcements. You settled in, fingers flying over your keyboard as you took notes.
Until he dropped the bomb.
“Alright, folks, listen up,” Professor Lee announced, raising his voice over the chatter. “Big news today—it’s time to kick off your group projects.”
Groans and murmurs spread through the room like wildfire. People immediately started swiveling in their seats, calling out to friends to lock in their groups before anyone got left behind.
You stayed put, as you always did. You’d learned from experience—being the quiet one meant waiting out the storm. Once the dust settled, you’d deal with whatever scraps of a team were left.
“The project is worth thirty percent of your grade,” Professor Lee continued, adjusting his glasses. “So choose wisely.”
“Thirty percent?” someone whispered behind you.
“Yeah, that’s fucked,” another voice muttered.
You ignored them, jotting down the project details from the board. If no one picked you, you’d just work alone—it wasn’t ideal, but you’d survive. Your eyes flicked back to your laptop, but before you could even finish writing down the assignment details, a shadow fell over your desk. You blinked up, startled, only to see Chan grinning down at you, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket.
“Uh, hi?” you said cautiously.
“Wanna be in a group with me and my friends?” He jerked his thumb toward Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who were mid-wrestle over a pencil in the back corner of the room.
Your pen froze mid-word. “You… know my name?”
Chan tilted his head like you’d just asked him if the sky was blue. “Uh, yeah? Considering you’re the one who ruins the curve every time… yes, I know your name.”
Oh.
“But also,” he continued, “you clearly know what you’re doing, and we’d be stupid not to team up with you.”
You blinked, your brain short-circuiting for a moment. “Okay.”
His grin widened, and he gestured for you to follow him.
By the time you reached Seungkwan and Soonyoung, they’d paused their argument and were now watching you with matching mischievous smirks.
“So,” Seungkwan said, leaning closer to Chan, “you actually got her to join us, huh?”
“Guess today’s my lucky day,” Chan muttered, side-eyeing him.
Soonyoung jabbed Seungkwan in the ribs, grinning like an idiot. “Told you he wouldn’t chicken out.”
“Shut up,” Chan hissed, his ears already pink.
But Seungkwan wasn’t done. “You didn’t have to use the whole ‘you ruin the curve’ thing. You could’ve just said, ‘Hey, I think you’re super smart and pretty, and I totally have a crush on you.’”
Chan’s eyes widened as if someone had just slapped him with a textbook. “What the fuck—”
“Or,” Soonyoung added, tapping his chin theatrically, “you could’ve been, like, ‘I sit two rows behind you every day because your hair smells like strawberries.’”
“I do not—”
Seungkwan gasped, fake-shocked. “Oh my God, you’ve smelled her hair?”
Chan groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I hate both of you.”
You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, covering your mouth as the trio dissolved into chaos.
“Don’t listen to them,” Chan said quickly, turning back to you with an apologetic look. “They’re dumbasses, but I promise we’ll actually get work done. Eventually.”
You raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “As long as no one brings paper airplanes to the final presentation.”
“See?” Soonyoung crowed. “She’s funny too. You’re screwed, Chan.”
Chan didn’t answer, but the flush creeping up his neck said more than enough.
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Half Pink Half You :: l.dh

pairing: lee donghyuck x female oc
Description: Locked in an endless prank war, Donghyuck and Haewon only had one goal— outsmart the other by pulling a cleverer trick. But when one of Donghyuck’s pranks goes horribly wrong, the two might come face to face with their true feelings. As emotions run high and tension deepens, can the two survive a test of their hearts?
Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, pining (lots of it), angst, more pining Content: prank war, enemies to idiots to lovers (they pine for each other a lot), hospitalization, near-death experience, near-drowning, and once again, lots of angst a/n: seriously, don't read this if you don't like angst
Word count: 8.8k words
Happy Reading!
It was only 9 am and Donghyuck had made Haewon curse seven times already. Eight, if you count the finger she had just given him after he had made a retching sound at the picture she clicked of the sky.
‘Did I ask?’ she gritted out, turning away from him.
But Donghyuck caught up to her. There wasn’t much room to escape on a bus filled with 40 other students anyway.
He clicked his tongue, pulling his bag over his shoulder. ‘You should appreciate the free advice, princess. You clearly need it.’
Haewon bit her tongue, deciding to swallow the protest at the nickname he had just used for her and settle for a roll of her eyes instead. She found an empty seat a few rows from the end and settled down on the window side only to sigh immediately as Donghyuck plopped down beside her.
‘Can’t you sit anywhere else?’ she complained, shoving him out to the aisle.
Donghyuck barely caught himself before bumping into another student.
‘Tch tch, where are your manners?’ He pulled himself up and dusted his jacket, slumping down next to her again.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, knowing the answer was to annoy her.
But Donghyuck went quiet.
Haewon looked up at him, curious when she received no reply. But all Donghyuck did was stare at her, his signature devil-may-care smirk plastered on his face and for a moment she could swear that she saw his eyes glint.
‘What?’
He narrowed his eyes at her, slightly amused. ‘Did you really forget what day it is today?’
Haewon knew what day it was. It was a Saturday. They were sitting on a bus that was going to take them away from the city to the mountains for their Photography Club field trip. It was the beginning of their mid-semester break and… and…
She rummaged through her mind trying to find the meaning behind Donghyuck’s mischievous smirk that was only growing wider by the second.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, the memory shot to the front of her mind, her eyes widening at the realization. Suddenly, it all made sense– his grin, his tone, the way Donghyuck was clinging to her today and why he was acting so smug since morning. She was sure now that the glint she saw in his eyes earlier was very much real.
Haewon gulped the rising anxiety, shocked at how quickly it took form inside her.
‘So, you remember,’ he said, tilting his head to the side, his tone haughty and amused in equal measure.
She wanted to curse at herself for forgetting the day but her desire to slap the smirk off Donghyuck’s face took precedence making her curse at him instead.
‘I am so hurt,’ he said, rounding his lips into a fake pout enough to rile her up and Haewon had to stop herself from rolling her eyes for the nth time today.
‘What are you planning to do?’ she asked, hating how hoarse her voice sounded.
‘Hm…’ He leaned back in his seat, crossing his hands behind his head and sighed as if reminiscing a fond memory. ‘Just a little fun thing for you.’
Haewon raised an eyebrow. ‘For me or for you?’
‘For you,’ he insisted. ‘Oh, don’t be so scared.’ He nudged her arm.
‘Please,’ she scoffed, hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her this time. ‘The last prank you pulled on me was so pathetic.’
The smile on his face dropped. He ran his fingers through his hair, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. It was quite unoriginal to hide the keys to her locker for a day but he wasn’t going to admit that here.
‘Don’t worry, I came prepared this time.’
‘Fine.’ She shrugged. ‘Bring it on, then.’
‘Oh, careful with it,’ he said, the smirk returning to his face. ‘You will land yourself in trouble this time, princess.’
‘Go die, will you?’
‘Classy,’ he remarked and got up from the seat, pulling his bag up his shoulder. ‘See you later.’ He winked.
Renjun found Haewon a minute later. Mark, the President of the Photography club, had just finished taking the attendance and they were waiting for the bus driver.
‘Damn, what got you so worked up this early in the morning?’ Renjun asked.
Haewon was seething, a permanent frown on her face. ‘What do you think?’ She crossed her arms and made space for him beside her.
Depositing his bag in the overhead compartment, he sat himself down once the bus started to move.
‘The field trip hasn’t even started yet and you both are fighting already,’ he pointed out.
‘Is it my fault that he is so annoying?’
Renjun shook his head, exhausted. Being Haewon’s best friend wasn’t easy. Not that he didn’t like spending time with her, but there was only so much rant one could hear about a supposed ‘enemy’ before wanting to pull their hair off.
‘Seriously, when will you both end this prank war?’ he asked.
‘He started it!’
‘It’s been two years, Haewon…’
Had it really been that long, she wondered. Haewon could clearly recall the day she joined the Photography Club. It was Renjun who had introduced her to Mark, who was the Vice-President at the time. She had showed her photographs to him and the next day Mark had given her the form to the club.
But she took her time.
The club was infamous for its all-boys members and more so notorious for how the seniors treated the girls who wanted to join. It wasn’t until her junior year, after Mark’s several reassurances and Renjun’s insistence that she joined the club. Even then, she kept to herself, talking to no one except Renjun until she visited the common room one evening after her classes and ran into Donghyuck.
He was too loud— that was the first thing she had noticed about him. He liked attention, that was the second thing she had realized.
Sprawled in the middle of the common room with his photographs on display, he was inviting everyone to take a look, irritated by anyone who didn’t take an interest in them. Donghyuck even had the seniors lining up to see his latest collection.
‘Do you like it that much?’ was the first thing he spoke to her. Haewon hadn’t realized she had been staring at a picture that was tucked away in a corner. She was also the only one who had stopped in front of it. The picture wasn’t anything extraordinary. The camera angle was basic and the scenery was plain— a lake between a thick cover of forest. But what had caught her attention was a boy standing right at the edge of the lake. He was dressed in all white; his hair was messy and his clothes were too loose for him.
‘It’s the only picture with someone in it,’ she said, still looking at the photograph.
She heard Donghyuck chuckle beside her. ‘It’s also the only picture nobody has noticed.’
She looked up at him. He was already looking at her, his eyes focused on her face.
‘I did,’ she said.
Donghyuck was silent for a moment. He wanted to say something, she could tell. The words were right there on his lips but he smiled instead and nodded.
‘You did,’ he agreed.
Haewon never figured out why Donghyuck did what he did next.
A week after that encounter, she had received an email from the college administration regarding her ‘community work credits.’ Haewon had apparently signed up to volunteer at the cafeteria’s kitchen for a month, more specifically for the onion chopping duty.
She had tried explaining to them several times that she had never signed up for such a thing and that there had been a mistake. But the duty was already assigned and withdrawing wasn’t an option, not without a disciplinary action against her.
So, Haewon had to turn up to college at 6 am every day for a month and chop barrels full of onions till her eyes were red and her nose had turned pink. She did get her credits but at the cost of smelling like onions for a month.
It was not until her last day that she had learned who had actually signed her up for the duty. She had overheard the seniors from the photography club congratulate Donghyuck for pulling a successful prank on the new girl. Haewon had never felt so angry and humiliated.
‘It’s a tradition of the club,’ he had told her, when she had confronted him.
Haewon wasn’t sure if she was waiting for an apology or an explanation other than ‘it was a tradition’, but she was sure of one thing— she wanted revenge.
For the next month, she left cut up pieces of onions in Donghyuck’s locker, bag, desk, and practically anything of his that she could get her hands on.
Donghyuck could have left it there. A prank for a prank and call it even. But he was not one to sit silent, specially not when she had managed to replace his mouth freshener with onion juice.
And that’s how it began, a never-ending prank war.
‘Why don’t you tell him to stop?’ she replied to Renjun.
He wanted to remind her that Donghyuck wasn’t particularly the kind to listen to other people but she knew that already. So, instead, he reminded her of a simple solution.
‘You can just end it,’ he said. ‘Let his prank be the last one.’
‘And admit defeat? Seriously, whose side are you really on?’
Renjun could already feel an incoming throbbing in his head. He shut his eyes and pressed two fingers between his eyebrows.
‘Do you have a headache?’
‘Not yet,’ he sighed and turned to her. But her attention had already been stolen away. He followed her eyes to find her gaze on Donghyuck sitting at the front of the bus.
‘You know…’ Renjun started, a knowing smile on his face, ‘sometimes, people who have trouble expressing their true emotions resort to other means to convey them.’
‘What?’
‘Well… you both spend an awful lot of time together,’ he said, crossing his arms. ‘And the rest, staring at each other.’
This definitely caught Haewon’s attention. ‘Who are you talking about?’
‘The one you have been staring at.’
Renjun was crazy. He had gone insane, she thought.
‘You are absolutely mental,’ Haewon spat, a little too loudly, her voice a pitch higher than usual.
He shrugged and leaned back in his seat, satisfied at the reaction he got from her.
‘I have to keep an eye on him,’ she protested, unable to bring her voice down to her normal pitch.
‘Right…’ he said, grinning proudly. ‘What about yesterday then?’
‘What about yesterday?’
‘In the library.’
‘You saw that?’
Renjun had to control himself from laughing.
It wasn’t that Haewon hadn’t caught herself staring at Donghyuck before but it was because he was everywhere she went. How could she not look when she would run into him at every turn.
‘He was checking out the book I wanted.’
‘Mhm…’ Renjun closed his eyes again. ‘I didn’t know you were changing your major to Math.’
‘It was a math book?’ she whispered to herself. All she could recall was how small the book looked in his hands. The way his long fingers tapped along the edges as he pulled himself to get another book from the top shelf. How he had to fold the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows after it got hot inside. Was it even hot inside?
‘No!’ She shook herself awake from the memory. ‘I do not like Lee Donghyuck!’ she said more to herself than to Renjun, who was no longer listening to her rambling.
‘I am not…’ she mumbled and dragged her gaze back to Donghyuck only to catch him already staring at her. The moment their eyes met, he winked at her, a smirk spreading on his lips. Usually, she would have rolled her eyes, but Haewon kept staring, studying his face, wondering why a frown had suddenly appeared on his forehead. He looked concerned for a moment. He jerked his chin up at her but she shook her head, making him scoff and turn away.
Renjun’s words had scared her. Haewon couldn’t sit still for the rest of the journey. She tried reading the book she had brought with her, tried listening to the playlist she had made for the ride, even tried falling asleep like Renjun had but she couldn’t shake Donghyuck out of her mind.
She replayed all their conversations in her head like a movie reel, going over every word they had spoken to each other, every prank they played on each other in the last two years, surprised at how vividly she remembered every memory related to him.
Was Renjun right?
And what if he was? What then? What was she supposed to do? Tell the guy who she swore was her enemy that she likes him?
She could imagine Donghyuck laughing at her. But what terrified her wasn’t the thought of his mockery or his teasing, but the smile that she felt forming on her lips imagining him telling her that he liked her too.
‘What got you blushing?’ Donghyuck asked, creeping up behind her.
Haewon was standing at the edge of the pier, staring at the lake in front of her. They had reached two hours ago, and while the others were surveying the place for getting the best shots, she found herself stationary in front of the lake.
She hadn’t realized that she was blushing. But apparently this is what she did now— blush whenever she thought of Donghyuck.
‘Are you wondering why I haven’t done anything yet?’ he asked.
‘Hm?’ She looked up at him.
‘The prank,’ he reminded her, then paused and narrowed his eyes. ‘Seriously, what are you thinking about?’
‘Nothing,’ she said, pulling herself out of her thoughts. ‘And no, I wasn’t wondering about that. I don’t keep thinking about you, just so you know.’
There it was, the twinkle in his eyes, followed by his smirk and the slight jerk he gave to his chin whenever he wanted to emphasize how proud he was of himself.
‘Lies,’ he said, leaning forward, his arms behind his back. ‘I know you think about me.’
For the first time, Haewon was silent. She had no answer. Donghyuck was so close to her, she could feel his breath on her face.
‘You have moles,’ she said, the words falling out of her mouth on their own. ‘On your cheek.’ Her eyes dazed yet focused on them. How had she never noticed before, and now that she had, her fingers twitched, suddenly wanting to touch them.
But Donghyuck snapped his fingers in front of her face. ‘What’s the matter with you today?’
‘Just an observation,’ she said, quickly turning away from him.
‘The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said, breaking the momentary silence.
‘You are here for making small talk?’
‘Just an observation.’ He shrugged innocently.
‘Oh, shut up.’ She rolled her eyes at him.
‘The lake is getting darker too,’ he remarked.
‘Another observation?’
He nodded. ‘I have swum in a river after dark once,’ he began.
‘Okay, and?’ She crossed her arms over her chest, ready to hear another nonsensical thing come out of his mouth.
But Donghyuck’s grin widened, a hint of mischief creeping up in his eyes. ‘It’s terrifying,’ he told her. ‘You can’t see a thing and even a few feet seem like kilometres.’
Haewon froze. Her arms felt heavy and her legs felt stuck in place. She was suddenly too aware of the wooden pier beneath her feet, where it ended and how close she was standing to the edge. This was it. His prank. This was what he had intended to do.
‘Donghyuck, I can’t—’
But before she could even complete, he pushed her into the lake.
The water hit Haewon like a brick, and the last thing she saw was Donghyuck laughing, clapping his hands on the pier before darkness engulfed her. The sound of the splash rang through her ears. For a single, horrible moment she thought that her ear drums would burst and then there was complete silence.
Her hands flailed about her, trying to grab onto something, anything as the water pulled her in. She came up with the initial inertia of the fall but as her legs gave out below her, trying to mimic a swimmer, she realized how futile the attempt really was. She could not see, could not breathe. Her arms were not trained and her body could not float. The sun that appeared just within her reach moments ago, seemed far beyond her as it sunk below the horizon and all that was left around her was darkness.
She swallowed mouthfuls of water with every attempt to come up to the surface, unable to tell which way was up anymore. Her body swayed with the ripples she had created around her and after she had gulped enough water, she stopped struggling. Haewon sunk to the depths as the lake carried her to it and suddenly, she realized how weightless she really was, how easy it was to drown as she allowed the water to swallow her.
On the surface, Donghyuck had stopped laughing. All the jabs had died on his tongue when a minute had passed and Haewon had still not come up to the surface.
He lowered his camera and realized how dark it had really gotten. Panic rose inside him like bile that made his throat feel raw. He tried to gulp but the air refused to enter him. His clammy hands trembled and he felt his face getting warmer and colder at the same time.
‘What’s going on?’ Renjun came up behind him along with Mark, who wanted to set up his camera at the pier.
‘I—’ Donghyuck was lost, unable to comprehend his words. It was just a prank, he told himself. Just a prank, he repeated.
‘Donghyuck…’ Renjun placed a hand on his back, worried.
‘Haewon…’ Donghyuck mumbled and the expression on Renjun’s face was enough to tell him what Haewon had wanted to say before he had pushed her into the water.
Donghyuck, I can’t… swim.
Suddenly, all panic drained out of his body replaced with adrenaline. He removed his jacket and jumped into the lake, dropping his phone and camera into the water with him.
Renjun had gathered a crowd, the students running up to the pier in panic.
Donghyuck shouted her name above the surface but it was pitch black now and the flashlights that the others held up did nothing. He dived deeper into the lake, his fingers reaching out for her. Her hair, her shirt, her arm, anything. But it was of no use.
He reached the depth and felt the soil beneath his feet but Haewon was nowhere. He wanted to cry, to thrash, to yell out her name but the water swallowed his screams. The darkness pressed heavy on him, heavier than the water itself. Even he couldn’t find his way around the lake and he had pushed her into this terrible nightmare.
Where is she? How long had it been?
Forgetting to come up for breath, Donghyuck found himself floating in his own delirium now. Time shifted, working slower as he let the water take over him.
He was drowning but he didn’t know how to stop it anymore.
Haewon, he repeated like a chant in his mind, praying for a miracle he knew he didn’t deserve.
Is this what she felt? Did she call out my name when the depths called to her?
The water made his eyes hurt so he shut them, not that it mattered anyway— the darkness did not differentiate this far below.
But just as he was about to give up, not on her but on himself, he felt someone grab him by his collar and pull. The weight returned first and he felt his limbs heavier than usual, the water scraping against them as he was being dragged out of his own death.
With a gasp, he breathed his first breath as he broke the surface and felt all his senses return to him at once.
‘H-Haewon…’ Donghyuck spit out a mouthful of water, his voice barely a rasp. All he could see were bright lights flashing in his face as he felt two men carry him to the pier. It was not until his back met the wooden surface, that he realized that they were first responders.
‘N-No.’ He tried pushing them aside as the men held him down to check his vitals. ‘Where— Haewon…’ He choked out more water from his nose.
‘Haewon…’ Donghyuck looked about himself, trying to spot her in the crowd. ‘The girl—’ he asked the men, but they weren’t listening to him.
‘Raise his neck,’ one of the EMTs was shouting orders at the others around, while fixing an oxygen mask around Donghyuck’s mouth. ‘Wipe his face.’
Donghyuck hadn’t realized that he was crying. There were tears streaming down his face but no sound other than her name on his lips. Gathering whatever strength remained in him, he pulled himself up and pushed away the blanket the EMT was trying to wrap around his body.
‘Haewon,’ he cried out, vomiting out more water as he stumbled through the crowd without direction, his own clothes dragging him down, till someone yanked him forward by the arm and he fell to his knees.
The crowd parted for him and the sight froze him.
At the edge of the pier, lay Haewon, wrapped in a thick blanket, unresponsive. An EMT was giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation while another was administering CPR on her.
‘Rub her feet!’ one of them shouted between breaths and Renjun leaped to action, pulling her shoes off and rubbing the soles of her feet.
‘We have to get her to the hospital,’ the other one yelled.
It had been 5 minutes and Haewon hadn’t woken up.
Donghyuck had to crawl on his arms to reach her. Her face was pale as though she had been bled dry and her arms were a luminescent white, glistening like porcelain under the flashlights.
‘H–Haewon.’ He tapped her cheek but shuddered when his fingers met her ice-cold skin.
‘Get away from her!’ Renjun rasped and the voice cut through Donghyuck’s body like a blade sawing him in half. His throat choked itself and he felt himself submerged under water again, the noises drowning out as he felt a weight press on him.
He looked down at his hands, shivering under his own gaze.
‘I—’ He shook his head, unsure what he wanted to say and to whom. There were fresh tears in his eyes, burning his cheeks on their way down.
Then suddenly, they were taking her away. The EMTs laid her out on the stretcher in front of him and were carrying her away from the pier. Donghyuck followed only to realize a moment later that the EMTs were there for him too.
‘Let me…’ He fell unconscious, his body giving up on him.
Donghyuck woke up in a hospital bed, his eyes blinking wide open the moment he realized where he was. There was an IV drip attached to his arm and a thick blanket covering him.
Mark was beside him the moment he stirred.
‘How are you feeling?’ Mark asked but quickly realized that he wasn’t going to get an answer from Donghyuck. He did not try to reason nor stop him when Donghyuck pulled the drip out of his arm and jumped out of bed. Instead, he showed him the way to Haewon’s ward.
Down the long, deserted corridor was Renjun, sitting with his head between his palms. At the sound of the hurried footsteps, he looked up.
‘Renjun, no!’ Mark had to throw himself in front of Donghyuck as Renjun charged at him.
‘You—’ Renjun’s face was red in a matter of seconds and despite Mark’s pleas, he held Donghyuck by the collar, ready to punch him.
‘Not here.’ Mark held him back. ‘Not in the hospital, please.’
Had it not been for Mark, Renjun would have bashed Donghyuck’s head against the wall. It wasn’t like Donghyuck was fighting back anyway. He had his head bowed the entire time, ready to take whatever punishment.
Renjun shoved him aside. ‘You better stay away from her now!’ he warned before walking away.
Donghyuck picked himself up and staggered towards the ward but his feet stopped him right at the door. He had no intention of going in, not anymore. Slowly, pushing away the gnawing guilt and fear, he peered his head to peek inside the ward through the small glass window in the door.
In the middle of the room was Haewon, still unconscious. Her mouth was intubated for oxygen while a nurse was monitoring her pulse. There was a defibrator on the side and another nurse preparing a machine Donghyuck couldn’t recognize.
‘They are going to shift her to the ventilator,’ he heard Renjun tell Mark behind him.
‘It’s only for one night,’ Mark appeased. ‘To give her lungs a rest.’
There was a pause and he heard a scuffle behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know that Mark had held Renjun back again.
All Donghyuck did, all he could do was watch. He stood by the little window to her ward and watched her, mute, his chest rising and falling in the same rhythm as hers. There were a thousand thoughts running through his head yet all he could hear was a ringing silence in his ears.
An hour passed or two, he couldn’t tell anymore, when he felt a hand press against his shoulder. Mark was saying something to him and he knew he had to respond but he couldn’t understand the words.
The sun had come up outside when Donghyuck agreed to move, giving way to the doctor.
‘Are you a relative?’ The doctor asked him but words escaped him.
He shook his head.
‘Are you alright?’ was the next thing the doctor asked. Donghyuck’s eyes had sunk into their sockets and his face was ashen white.
‘He is the other drowning patient, doctor,’ the nurse chimed in.
‘Check his pulse,’ the doctor ordered, ‘and administer him an IV.’
‘H-Haewon?’ Donghyuck managed to mumble out, pointing at her ward.
‘She is under sedation,’ the doctor informed him. ‘She will wake up in a few hours.’
Donghyuck nodded and stepped out of the way for the doctor. The door closed on him and a nurse came up behind him to escort him to his own ward but he did not budge, not even an inch. He could hear Mark mutter something to the nurse as he watched them take Haewon off the ventilator.
‘Donghyuck?’
He felt someone shake his shoulders and turned around to see Mark, who had been calling his name for the last minute.
Mark paused before speaking, a sigh escaping him. ‘You need rest. You don’t look well.’
Donghyuck blinked at him, annoyed that Mark had tried to take his attention away from Haewon.
‘Donghyuck?’ He tried again. ‘Are you listening to me?’
Just then, the door to the ward slid open and a nurse peeked her head out. ‘She’s awake,’ she informed them.
Renjun immediately rushed past them to the ward.
Mark waited and held the door open for Donghyuck but he stood frozen in place, his legs refusing to move. He looked down at his feet and shook his head.
‘Hey…’ Mark whispered, leaning down to his eyes level.
But Donghyuck turned his back to him, silent. He did not turn around till he heard Mark step inside and close the door shut.
Haewon was awake, talking. Renjun was sitting next to her bed, his hands holding hers. Mark was talking to the doctor, and the nurse was checking her vitals. When she laughed at something Renjun had whispered to her, Donghyuck felt his own lips curve into a smile.
Then, her eyes fell on him and Donghyuck suddenly felt himself transported to the bottom of that lake again, drowning. Shame rose inside him, hot and suffocating. He felt embarrassed, undeserving to be even standing there but he couldn’t look away. A tear rolled down his cheek and he knew she could see it but he just couldn’t look away, not yet.
_
That was three months ago and the last time that Donghyuck had looked at Haewon.
He had disappeared from her life.
Haewon wasn’t sure what she had expected from him, but his silence was not it. The doctors kept her in the hospital for another week to treat her for pneumonia. She had Mark and Renjun by her side throughout the treatment but she never saw Donghyuck peek his head through the door again.
She wanted to ask Renjun about him. But his silence made her angry, and then, worried. On the day of her discharge, she mentioned his name and saw Renjun visibly stiffen.
‘He is gone,’ Renjun told her. ‘He got himself discharged the day you woke up.’
‘Is he alright?’ she asked, not knowing what else to say.
‘I haven’t spoken to him if that’s what you want to know.’ Renjun was being cruel but Donghyuck had almost killed his best friend and he couldn’t get past that.
A week later, Haewon returned to college only to learn that Donghyuck had withdrawn his name from the Photography club. He stopped showing up to their shared classes; started eating his lunch elsewhere. His locker had been emptied and all his photographs from the common room were gone. She knew he was around, but Haewon never ran into Donghyuck again.
The Photography Club Exhibition had to be cancelled and Mark had to deal with the Student Council because of the accident during the field trip. Haewon had wished that Mark would allow her to attend the meetings. She was sure Donghyuck was there but Mark had insisted on keeping her away from the trouble.
She had considered calling him, several times. But what would she have said? Donghyuck wasn’t particularly a friend. He was… what was he to her? The only time she had texted him was four months ago and it was to lure him into the Dean’s office for a prank.
She didn’t want him to apologize. All she wanted was him… around.
The first time Haewon saw Donghyuck again was on the day of their first final year exam. He came in late and left early. His eyes were swollen and his face seemed dull. He had lost weight.
Her own anger surprised her that day. He knew she was sitting in the same class. Her eager eyes were set on him, following his every movement, yet he never looked up to find her, not once. Two years, two fucking years they had known each other and not once did he bother to speak to her.
Perhaps it was her fault, Haewon thought, to assume that she had a place in Donghyuck’s life.
The exams got over and their results were out. They were going to graduate from college.
It was the eve of their convocation, and Haewon was sitting on the couch of an unknown house between people she wished weren’t there and sipping on whiskey she couldn’t swallow.
Renjun was dancing in the distance, occasionally singing farewell songs with his friends. He had tried to call her to the dance floor at every song change.
‘Are you going to sit there the entire night?’ he yelled at her. ‘It’s our farewell party!’
‘I am not feeling too well,’ she lied and slipped away from the loud music, setting her glass aside. Her head was throbbing from the beat anyway and the number of drunk people increasing by the second.
She finally found some quiet on the second floor of the house but the moment she turned down the hallway, Haewon froze.
It was dark and she could barely see two feet ahead of her but she could recognize Donghyuck’s silhouette even with her eyes closed.
Haewon couldn’t tell how long they stood facing each other in silence. Donghyuck was the first to move, walking into the light. For some unexpected reason, she wished he would have his usual smirk on his fae, the smug grin that had made her roll her eyes a hundred times in the past. But Donghyuck looked tired. Somehow, the three months had aged him and she felt strange in his presence.
‘Haewon,’ he whispered in greeting but his voice echoed in her ears as though it had travelled the length of an ocean to reach her.
‘Keeping well?’ she asked, her own voice strange to her.
He shrugged.
‘How was your result?’ She could see the effort it took him to reply.
‘It was alright,’ he said, sighing immediately after.
Haewon nodded, not knowing what to say or do with herself. Donghyuck was finally looking at her but they were not the same eyes that she had perfected to read. They had been in each other’s presence for more than five minutes and he had not tried to annoy her, not try to irritate her nor make her curse. There were no sarcastic remarks on his lips and no mischievous twinkle behind his eyes.
He stood in front of her like a wretched mirror, and Haewon couldn’t tell if she was hoping to find him or spot her own reflection in him.
‘Do—'
‘I am leaving,’ he cut her off, stepping closer. ‘Tomorrow morning… I am leaving for US to continue my study.’
Suddenly, the music wasn’t too loud and the noise was barely a whisper in her ears. She stared at him, silent, and he did not shy away from her gaze this time.
‘You are leaving?’ she asked.
He nodded his head. ‘I won’t come back,’ he said and paused.
‘You won’t stay for the convocation?’
Unexpectedly, Donghyuck scoffed, but he looked defeated, hurt somehow. He pulled his gaze down to the floor. ‘No, I won’t stay for the convocation.’
‘Right…’
‘I have to go,’ he said but did not move.
‘Of course, packing?’
‘Packing,’ he echoed and did not wait to hear her goodbye or say his own. He walked past her, leaving her in the hallway.
Haewon waited till she heard him climb down the steps then walked down the hallway and found her way to the roof. The cold air relaxed her senses and she sat herself down on the ledge, her feet dangling off the side.
She turned around when she heard the door open. It was Mark and strangely she was grateful that it was only him.
‘Beer?’ he asked, raising the two pints in his hands. He sat beside her on the ledge and passed one of the bottles to her.
‘Not a huge fan of beer,’ she said, but took the pint from his hand.
‘Try this one,’ Mark urged her. His own bottle was half empty and he took another sip. ‘Don’t like dancing?’
‘The music is too loud,’ she made an excuse.
‘It is,’ he agreed.
‘Sorry for the exhibition by the way,’ she said. ‘I know you were looking forward to it.’
But Mark waved a hand at her. ‘Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t your fault.’
Haewon wanted to disagree. The cancellation was a result of a prank war that she was as much a part of as Donghyuck was. But she nodded nonetheless, taking a sip of the beer.
‘So, what are your plans after college?’ he sighed, leaning back on his palms.
‘Uh… I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘I have been just trying to…’
‘…stay alive?’
This made her laugh. ‘Right. Just trying to stay alive these days.’
‘Donghyuck has it figured out,’ she mumbled after a pause.
Mark raised an eyebrow.
‘He is leaving for US,’ she told him. ‘Tomorrow.’
‘Ah,’ he exclaimed. ‘I heard. Pretty impressive, don’t you think?’
Haewon feigned a smile. Mark was watching her closely. ‘It is. I am happy for him.’
‘Are you?’
The question hung in the air and Haewon stared at it, speechless. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said and Mark let it go.
The wind caught her hair and Haewon found herself chugging the pint. It was much easier to gulp after the whiskey she had been sipping since evening.
‘Did he ever tell you?’ Mark asked once she had set the empty bottle between them. He smiled upon seeing her confused eyes. ‘Really? He never told you?’ he asked, shaking his head at the realization.
‘What are you talking about?’
He downed his own bottle before turning to her. ‘Do you remember how it started?’ he asked her. ‘The pranks between you two.’
Of course, she remembered. She remembered it like it was just yesterday.
‘He had signed me up for cutting onion!’ Haewon yelled, groaning at the memory. ‘I smelled like onions for a whole month. A whole month!’ Her voice had returned with fervour. ‘I did what I had to— take revenge. I left pieces of onion in his locker for the next month. It was hilarious. You should have seen how annoyed he got every time. But he could have left it at that. Call it even. But you know how he is. So stubborn. So annoying.’ She groaned again and folded her arms across her chest.
Mark sighed, his grin more amused than earlier. ‘Didn’t you ever wonder why Donghyuck did what he did?’
Haewon had wondered that before. In fact, she had spent countless hours wondering just about that.
‘It was a club tradition?’ she ventured. ‘That’s what he told me. Besides, it’s because he is… him. He is Donghyuck. He plays pranks on people, right?’
‘That’s true,’ Mark replied. ‘But have you ever seen him play a prank on anybody else in the last two years?’
‘Uh—’ Haewon was ready to argue and was certain that an instance would just come to her lips. But she couldn’t recall any. She stared at him, blankly. Mark was right. Donghyuck had not played a single prank on anyone except her since the start of their prank war.
‘When you joined the club,’ Mark began, ‘the seniors had a bet on making you cry.’
‘What?’
‘It was a tradition among them. We all went through the hazing. They did not stop till they made us freshmen cry. Yes,’ he added, seeing Haewon’s incredulous expression. ‘I was made to clean every leaf on the campus ground. I was exhausted by the end of the day and cried by nightfall. Donghyuck was smart. He faked his tears in the first minute of cleaning the toilets and they let him off the hook.’
‘Renjun never told me,’ she said.
‘He joined later, like you, and was spared because of his father,’ Mark told her. ‘I’m sure he doesn’t know about it either, or the extent of it. But then you joined. Donghyuck knew what was going to happen. I still remember that day. He had stormed into the club committee meeting. I had never seen him that serious.
‘The deal was to make you cry. The seniors wouldn’t have backed down unless they saw tears in your eyes. He convinced them that he would take care of it and made them promise not to meddle if he succeeded. That’s why he signed you up for cutting onions in the kitchen.
A memory surged forward in Haewon’s mind— Donghyuck had visited the kitchen every day for the first week of her duty with the seniors lingering behind him.
She tumbled the memory in her head, trying to recall a certain detail.
‘You cried eight days into it,’ Mark helped her.
And suddenly all the pieces fit together. It was a Monday and it was raining. The humidity had rendered the ventilation useless in the kitchen. The smell was unbearable and nothing helped, not the open windows, nor the scarf she had wrapped around her mouth and nose. That was the day. She had tears in her eyes from cutting up onions.
Donghyuck did not visit the kitchen again nor did she see any of the seniors around. She had cried. His part of the deal had been completed, saving her from who knows what the seniors were planning for her.
Her thoughts took her back to the first time she had met him, to the photograph tucked away in the corner of the common room, to the boy in that picture. That was the Donghyuck she had met and that was the same Donghyuck that she had known for the last two years too.
Haewon spent the night stuck in time on the roof. Somewhere in the middle, Mark had left and Renjun had found her, though he did not stay, not for long at least. The sky had started to change colours behind her, the light of the sun pushing its way to her. She closed her eyes to feel its warmth, a slow smile spreading across her face when its first ray touched her. She turned around, suddenly grateful at how easily she could hold the sun in her eyes.
It was time. She had to start getting ready for her convocation in an hour. But instead of taking the bus back to her dorm, she hailed a cab to the airport.
‘Can you drive a little faster?’ Haewon urged the cab driver, her fingers fidgeting over Donghyuck’s contact in her phone. She had called him seven times already but he had his phone turned off. ‘How much longer?’ she asked, groaning seeing the time.
There was only flight leaving for US that day and it was leaving in thirty minutes.
‘Almost there, madam,’ the driver told her, which did little to calm her down.
Haewon hurried out of the cab the moment it stopped, paying more cash than the bill. She waded through the sea of people, searching for an empty gate and settling on the least crowded one. It didn’t matter anyway because she sneaked past the queue amidst the curses from the people lined up. An elderly couple eventually relented and let her cut.
‘Thank you.’ She bowed to them and presented the dummy ticket she had bought in the cab earlier to the security officer.
She was in. But this was the easy part. Haewon glanced at the clock. She had about fifteen minutes to make it to Donghyuck before his flight. Her desperate eyes raked the area, frantically trying to locate the security check but gasped seeing the longest line she had ever witnessed. All the counter were full with queues looping around each other.
There was no way she could make it to him in time if she waited her turn. There was only one option— make a run for it.
Without thinking, she sprinted across the airport lobby to the checkpoint and jumped over the first barricade, picking up pace as she heard the alarms go off behind her.
An officer whistled to alert the others as she whizzed past the line and broke through the automatic doors, ducking just in time to avoid the baton that the inspector had swung at her head.
‘Stop right there!’ She heard him yell.
But Haewon didn’t have the time to look back.
‘Move!’ she shrieked at the people, who leaped out of her way.
Jumping over the sea of security tape stands, she reached the front and squeezed herself through the gap between two body scanners, shoving a security personnel in the process and almost injuring a passenger.
‘I am sorry,’ she yelled out but came to a sudden halt just a few metres away. Across the lounge were at least twenty uniformed men with their batons in their hands.
‘Don’t move!’ she heard the officers shout behind her.
She squeezed the side of her stomach to ease the stabbing pain and looked up at the board, catching her breath for a moment. Gate no. 27, she read. It was on the other side, past the wall of officers, who had slowly begun to close in on her from all directions.
‘Get to the ground!’ An officer slowly stepped forward.
Unexpectedly, Haewon grinned. She had to hand it to them on how quickly they gathered forces, how swift they were to surround her. But unfortunately for them, she knew exactly how to get out of this situation. In fact, she even had practice.
A year ago, Mark had arranged a gallery visit for the photography club. At the end of the evening, Donghyuck had come up to her with a painting in his hand.
‘This is for you,’ he had said, tossing the portrait to her.
‘What is this?’ she had asked.
‘I got it from the back room.’
‘The back room?’
She had held it out, turning it over in her hands only to realize it was the centre piece that had been slated for auction starting at 90 million won.
‘Oh?’ Donghyuck had slapped a hand to his face, theatrically, feigning innocence. ‘Should I not have told the security that I saw a girl with your description carrying it out?’
‘You what?!’
She had to run down the street for thirteen blocks with the security chasing after her even after she had hurled the painting back at them.
Haewon closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It is just like that time, she told herself, making sure to curse Donghyuck.
‘Put your hands behind your head,’ the officer ordered, approaching her with a gun in his hand.
But Haewon shot her eyes open and let out a guttural scream, flailing her arms around her and reaching into her pocket mimicking the motion of pulling out a weapon.
‘Everyone down!’ the officer yelled immediately and she jumped over them as they flung themselves to the floor.
Laughing, Haewon ran away, her hair flying behind her. There were sirens going off in the distance and caddies chasing after her yet all she could hear was Donghyuck’s laughter in her ears imagining how he would react after she tells him what she did.
25, 26… Gate no. 27, she spotted.
But the moment she reached the gate, the smile on her face disappeared. It was empty, not a soul in sight except a lady at the counter. The gasp caught in her throat and she shook her head, checking the number again.
Gate no. 27, she confirmed, confusion pricking at her.
‘The flight to the US…’ Haewon stumbled to the counter.
‘Flight 78291?’ the lady asked in her perfect voice. ‘I’m sorry but you missed it, ma’am.’
Blood drained out of her face, her knees close to buckling. She nodded quickly, trying to regain control of herself but it was taking everything in her to not cry right there at the counter.
The lady was offering alternatives, connecting flights and reservations but all Haewon did was thank her.
The airport security finally caught up to her. She did not protest, nor struggle as the officers handcuffed her wrists behind her back. They detained her in the holding cell at the airport before she was transferred to the local police station in the evening, where she was questioned and searched thoroughly.
Renjun had to leave the convocation to bail her out and it was past midnight before she was allowed to leave but not without a hefty fine and a warning.
She followed him back to his car, grateful that he had kept his thoughts and his scolding to himself. It was going come, she knew that much but not tonight.
He drove her back to her dorm, offering to stay the night but Haewon could not take any more favours from him.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she told him, her eyes half drooping. ‘Thank you.’
‘Go on in,’ he said. ‘Get some sleep, alright?’
She dragged herself to the staircase and climbed the steps one at a time till she reached the third floor. Donghyuck was gone. Sure, she could call him, message him but he was gone. What a fucking day, she sighed to herself but her mind was still alert, pulling her to their last conversation, to a particular moment after he had told her that he was leaving. The pause after his words, his expectant eyes and the defeated look hearing her reply.
Should she have said something then, she tried to reason. Was that the chance Donghyuck had given her, testing her heart.
She shook the feeling away, too tired to form coherent thoughts anymore but the moment she turned the corner, her feet suddenly stilled as her eyes landed on the door to her apartment.
Under the flickering light bulb, curled up on the floor beside three suitcases, was Donghyuck.
Haewon scoffed at the sight of him sleeping peacefully against her door. And she had every right to be angry too. Annoyed, irritated, wanting to kick him in the shins before cursing at him and maybe pushing him away. She had been awake for more than 24 hours, had missed her convocations, was almost shot and had started her own criminal record, and there he was, sleeping like a baby.
But Haewon found herself smiling and wasn’t surprised.
Hearing her footsteps, Donghyuck stirred, quickly rising to his feet. He stared at her and she waited. His lip quivered and he gulped, stalking forward, a frown on his forehead.
‘Why didn’t you ask me to stay?’ he cried out. A tear rolled down his cheek and in the light Haewon could see that he hadn’t slept the night too.
‘You were never going to see me again.’ His voice was hoarse, each word grating his throat. ‘And you were fine with that?!’
She wanted to laugh at his accusation and perhaps she did too because Donghyuck fumbled, his expression growing incredulous.
‘Is this funny to you?’ he rasped. ‘After everything we have been through—’
‘Ugh,’ Haewon groaned and closed the distance between them, slapping him on his shoulder.
He stumbled backwards, almost tripping over the suitcases. ‘What was that for?’
‘Who do you think you are, huh?’ she yelled, smacking him in the chest this time.
‘Ow, that hurt!’
‘Good, it should,’ she gritted out. ‘You deserve it.’
‘Wh— what did I do?’
She scoffed in disbelief. ‘I’ll tell you what you did!’ she spat, her finger pointed right at him. ‘First you push me into the lake, almost killing me, then disappear from my life like nothing happened.’ She pushed him again, hitting the same spot. ‘I don’t see you for three months. Three fucking months, and when you do see me, you tell me that you’re leaving forever. Then, I have to learn from Mark out of all people about your deal with the seniors two years ago?’
Donghyuck bowed his head at this but caught her wrist just in time before receiving another shove. ‘Haewon…’
‘Don’t you dare ‘Haewon’ me. Why is your phone off, huh? I called you so many times!’
‘I—’ He was scrambling for words.
‘You what?!’
‘I—you called me?’ There they were again, his expectant eyes.
‘Oh, I did more than just call you, Lee Donghyuck,’ she groaned again, struggling in his grip but he held her close. ‘You wanted to leave, right? Leave. Go.’ She pushed him. ‘Leave. Why are you here?’
Her arms were hitting his chest, his shoulder, anything they could grab onto but Donghyuck was stronger and Haewon was exhausted.
‘Haewon…’ he almost had to yell out, trying to placate her and finally as her body gave out and she broke down crying, he pressed her to his chest, engulfing her in his arms.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, tightening his grip around her. ‘I am sorry.’
‘How could you?!’ She gave one last fight before melting into him.
‘I know… I am sorry.’ He soothed her back for her, swallowing back his own tears. Slowly, he pulled away, holding her face in his hands. ‘I was… I don’t know… I wasn’t thinking. I thought I had lost you, Haewon. You don’t know… I couldn’t bear to look at you after what I had done,’ he choked out, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
‘I thought I had lost you too,’ she whispered back, pressing her forehead against his.
Donghyuck let her cry, his own tears mixing with hers.
‘Do you still want to leave?’ she asked, her fingers still clutching his shirt.
It was his turn to laugh. He pulled away, shaking his head and when he saw her smile, he leaned down to press his lips to hers.
THE END
#nct#nct dream#nct 127#lee donghyuck#lee haechan#nct donghyuck#haechan#donghyuck fanfic#haechan fanfic#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader#haechan imagines#huang renjun#mark lee#nct dream imagines#nct x reader#nct fanfic#haechan fic#haechan ff#nct dream fanfic#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 fanfic#donghyuck#nct haechan#nct dream haechan#nct dream donghyuck#nct angst#nct dream scenarios#nct scenarios
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could we maybe get a part two to “an education in loathing….?” the sizzling tension, the hatred, the quippy remarks OOOO i loved it. maybe the two get assigned as partners for a project (or something??? idk??) and a late night argument finally boils over into something smutty…if you feel comfortable writing that….
An Education in Loathing - Pt 2
Henry Winter x reader (The Secret History)
soooo, went overboard with this one, high word count, um gets heated....
Summary: read the request
Warnings: far from none. S.M.U.T. do with that what you will
master list found here
You begged, as in got down on your knees and hands clutching together in prayer type begged, for anyone in the group to switch with you in this stupid project. But to no avail.
You should have seen it coming. The way the universe seemed to take particular delight in your suffering, in orchestrating your life like a Greek tragedy, the fates snipping their shears with barely concealed amusement. Of course it had to be Henry.
Julian had announced the project with a kind of airy indifference, as if he weren’t about to ruin your entire semester. A “joint exploration of classical interpretations,” he had called it, pairing each of you off with someone to work through the assignment together. A “reward,” he had added, as if being shackled to Henry Winter for the foreseeable future was anything short of divine punishment.
Now, here you were, sitting across from him in the library’s dim back corner, trying not to succumb to the overwhelming urge to either strangle him or fling yourself dramatically out of the nearest window.
Henry, of course, looked perfectly unbothered. His long fingers turned a page of De Anima with excruciating slowness, his expression unreadable. The lamplight cast deep shadows across his face, sharpening the angles of his cheekbones, his jaw. He looked like some archaic statue came to life, some smug, superior deity sent to torment you.
“I suppose we should begin,” you said, barely keeping the venom from your voice.
Henry didn’t even glance up. “By all means.”
Your nails dug into the paper in front of you. “Well, seeing as you have no original thoughts of your own, why don’t you start by parroting whatever Julian has spoon-fed you on the subject?”
He made a quiet, amused sound, finally lifting his gaze. “Charming,” he murmured, setting the book down. “I see you’ve elected to be insufferable tonight.”
“You bring out the best in me.”
“I’ve noticed.”
You gritted your teeth, trying not to let him see the way he got under your skin. If you let him have that, you’d already lost.
“We could always divide the work,” you said, feigning a pleasant tone. “That way, I don’t have to suffer through your droning monologues, and you don’t have to endure my… how did you put it last time? ‘Exhausting need to contradict everything you say’?”
Henry leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, utterly at ease. “No,” he said simply.
You blinked. “No?”
“I don’t trust you to do it properly.”
You let out a sharp breath of laughter. “Oh, I’m the one who can’t do it properly?”
“Yes.”
You wanted to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy. “And why, exactly, is that?”
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering. “You’re impulsive.”
Your eyes narrowed. “And you’re a condescending bastard, but we all have our flaws, don’t we?”
His mouth twitched. “The difference is that I’m right.”
“Oh, you are so-” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply through your nose. You refused to let him rile you up this early. You had to pace yourself. If you let the irritation take over now, you’d never survive the night.
Instead, you took a slow sip of your coffee, schooling your expression into one of disinterest. “Fine,” you said at last. “Since you’re clearly too much of a control freak to work separately, we’ll suffer through this together. But I swear to God, Henry, if you correct me one more time on things I already know-”
“You’ll what?” His voice was almost amused.
You leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into something slow and deliberate. “I’ll smother you in your sleep and burn all of your books.”
Henry regarded you for a moment, gaze flickering over your face, before he exhaled a quiet laugh. “It’s adorable that you think you could.”
You stared at him, and there was something taut in the air between you, something sharp and charged. You could feel it, a tension neither of you wanted to acknowledge but both of you were utterly ensnared by.
Finally, you forced yourself to look away, reaching for your pen with more force than necessary. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Henry smirked, but he, too, returned to the task at hand.
-
The problem with Henry Winter, you had learned, was not simply that he was insufferable. It was that he was insufferable with such careful precision, such cruel artistry, that you sometimes suspected he did it on purpose, the way a cat will toy with a half-dead bird. That he liked needling you, watching the slow build of frustration, the way you burned under his gaze.
However, you found yourself in his apartment, not exactly what you’d expected; cold, austere, and far too tidy. Books lined the walls in obsessive, precise order, not a single one askew. A small fireplace, unlit, and the smell of something faintly metallic in the air, like old paper and ink.
You had known from the start this was a mistake.
“You could at least pretend to be a gracious host,” you muttered, dropping your bag onto the armchair nearest to the desk. “It wouldn’t kill you.”
Henry didn’t glance up from where he was pouring over a text, one hand idly at his temple. “I didn’t invite you here for pleasantries.”
You scoffed, taking a seat opposite him. “No, you invited me here because Julian gave us this absurd assignment, and unfortunately, you are stuck with me.”
“I wouldn’t say it's unfortunate.” His voice was mild, but there was something in it, something you didn’t trust.
You ignored it. “Let’s just get this over with.”
He hummed, leaning back slightly. “You’re in a mood.”
“You put me in a mood,” you retorted, flipping open your notes. “Now, are we discussing the comparative mythology of Orpheus, or are we going to sit here and psychoanalyze my temperament?”
Henry exhaled sharply through his nose, his version of a laugh. “The former, obviously.” He turned a page. “Though your temperament is certainly interesting.”
You gave him a sharp look. “Don’t.”
He smirked, and you hated how he did it, so subtle, so knowing. Like he had already won. “As you wish.”
For a while, you managed to focus. Or at least, you tried to. But Henry had a way of getting under your skin, his presence coiling around your thoughts like smoke, making it impossible to concentrate. And of course, he was unbearable, correcting your phrasing, sighing pointedly whenever you said something he found lacking.
Eventually, the digs began. As they always did. Thank the lords the group wasn't present, although they found your banter amusing, often when it got too far they were the ones having to break you two up and sometimes being caught in the crossfire.
“That’s not the primary interpretation of the myth,” Henry murmured, flipping a page, barely looking at you.
You grit your teeth. “It’s an interpretation.”
“A weak one.”
“Oh, I see. And you’re the sole arbiter of intellectual strength, is that it?”
Henry glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “I never said that.”
“You don’t have to.” You set your pen down with a sharp tap. “You think so.”
There was a pause. “You always assume the worst of me.”
You scoffed. “Because the worst is usually true.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t think it, Henry. I know it.” You leaned forward. “You like feeling superior. It’s why you go after people the way you do, why you can’t just have a discussion, you have to dismantle. I’d almost admire it, if it weren’t so-” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Pathetic.”
For the first time that evening, his expression shifted.
And then, to your horror, he smiled.
Slowly, purposefully, he shut the book in front of him, his fingers resting lightly against the worn cover. “That’s an awfully emotional response for someone who claims not to care what I think.”
Your pulse quickened. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I don’t have to,” he said, voice low. “You do it for me.”
There was something wrong with the air in the room. It had thickened, become charged. You suddenly felt too warm.
Henry stood, moving past you toward the bookshelf, running his fingers idly over the spines of the texts, the firelight casting sharp shadows along his jaw. “You hate me,” he mused, his back still turned. “And yet here you are.”
“Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s an assignment.”
He turned.
It was something in his posture, the slow way he leaned back against the shelf, arms crossed, head tilting slightly. The smirk that wasn’t quite a smirk.
“Of course,” he murmured. Something about the way he was watching you made your stomach tighten.
“Stop that,” you said, voice coming out sharper than you intended.
“Stop what?”
“Whatever this is. The-” You gestured vaguely. “You’re being weird.”
“You’re imagining things again, we’ve talked about this darling, you must stop doing that” Henry said smoothly, pushing off from the shelf. You looked forward, only hearing his steps approach you as he rounded the table to stand behind you.
You meant to say something cutting, to brush him off, but then, his hand. Light. Barely touching the inside of your wrist as he moved to lean over you.
The contrast was startling. His words, his voice, the sharp precision of his arguments, and then, this.
It was like a game.
And worse, you were losing.
“Careful,” you murmured, echoing the warning you had given him before.
Henry, leaning so his lips were ever so close to your ear. “Am I making you nervous?”
You inhaled sharply, your eyes blinked a few times before you turned your head slightly to be eye to eye with him. You were so close it felt suffocating. “You wish.”
You suddenly pulled the chair out from under you, the back of it forcing Henry to step back. You quickly move to the middle of the room, facing him and strangely out of breath. You didn’t want the distance for a reason unbeknownst to you, but if you were that close to him anymore you were going to combust.
He hummed, as he moved closer, boxing you in. Slowly, so you barely noticed it was happening. Until your back was nearly to the bookshelf, and Henry was in front of you, his presence filling every inch of space between you.
It wasn’t quite touching. But it was close.
“You like to think you know me,” he said, his voice lower now, almost conversational, like he was considering something carefully. His fingers skimmed the edge of your sleeve, so light you almost didn’t feel it. “But you don’t.”
You swallowed. “And you like to think you’re unknowable.”
Henry’s lips twitched, but his eyes darkened. “Maybe.”
There was something in the way he was looking at you, something electric, a live wire strung too tightly. Your pulse was an insistent, frantic thing against your ribs.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if it was a warning or an invitation.
Henry leaned in just slightly, the heat of him inches from your skin, his breath warm against your jaw.
“So are you.”
You should have left the moment you realized what he was doing. Should have made some scathing remark, put him in his place, turned on your heel and walked out. But instead, you stayed. And Henry knew it.
You could see it in the way his eyes gleamed, dark and knowing, in the small curve of his mouth that wasn’t quite a smirk but something worse, something more dangerous.
"You always run your mouth, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, almost amused, but there was something sharper beneath it, a blade hidden in silk. “So much conviction. So much certainty.”
You exhaled sharply, trying to push past him, but he didn’t move. He only shifted, subtly, deliberately, blocking your escape with the sort of ease that made you realize he’d been planning this, had anticipated every move, every reaction. Your back pressed against the bookshelf, the sharp corners of the wood digging into your shoulder blades. Henry leaned in.
"Tell me, do you ever stop talking long enough to listen?" he murmured, and his breath was warm against your ear, a stark contrast to the razor edge of his words.
You breathed hard, threw your nose, letting your chest rise and fall. "Get out of my way, Henry."
His hand lifted, light, barely there, trailing just along the side of your throat, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin beneath your jaw.
"You don’t want that," he whispered.
You did.
You did.
But he was so close now, his body a careful, practiced cage around yours. His cologne, something dark and expensive, filled your lungs.
“I think you like this.” His voice was a murmur now, a secret only for you. "I think you like fighting with me. Like how I make you feel.”
You swallowed hard. “You’re delusional.”
Henry exhaled a quiet laugh, tipping his head slightly, close enough that you could feel his lips brush the shell of your ear.
“You know what I think?” he whispered.
You refused to answer.
“I think,” he continued, voice silken, “that you like the way I get under your skin. I think you wake up in the middle of the night replaying our arguments, rehearsing all the things you should have said." His fingers drifted lower, a ghost of a touch along the inside of your wrist. "I think it keeps you up.”
Your heart was hammering against your ribs, your breath uneven. You didn’t answer, but Henry wasn’t expecting you to. He tilted his head, considering you.
“I wonder,” he mused, his fingers slipping down to the curve of your waist, tracing over the fabric of your sweater, "if you even hate me as much as you pretend to."
Your skin burned under his touch, and you gritted your teeth, furious, at him, at yourself, at the way your body betrayed you.
“Henry,” you said, a very empty warning, hating how unsteady your voice was.
He only leaned in closer, his lips barely an inch from yours now, his breath warm, steady, unrushed.
"Why?" he murmured, his fingers tightening ever so slightly at your hip. “Afraid you’ll like it?”
Your nails dug into your palms. “You,”
Henry lifted a single brow, waiting.
You wanted to slap him or maybe you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kick yourself for wanting both.
His fingers trailed up your spine, slow, deliberate. He pressed in closer, his body a whisper against yours, the heat of him making your knees weak.
And then, just as you thought he might close the distance, might press his lips to yours, might finally shatter whatever had been simmering between you for months, he didn’t.
Instead, he leaned in, let his mouth hover just beside yours, and whispered,
“Say please.”
It was so condescending. You refused. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, wouldn’t feed his ego with whatever twisted game he was playing. You shook your head, not saying a word.
But Henry was patient.
His lips hovered just beside yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath, the maddening proximity of him. His fingers traced slow, idle patterns along your waist, barely touching, just enough to make your skin prickle with awareness.
"Nothing to say?" he murmured, voice low, teasing. "For once?"
You turned your head away, jaw tight, but he only laughed, a quiet, amused sound that made something coil hot and electric in your stomach.
Then, his hand caught your chin, turning your face back toward him. Not forceful. Not rough. But firm.
His thumb traced lightly over your bottom lip, the touch so featherlight it sent a shiver down your spine.
“I could make you beg,” he said, thoughtful, almost to himself. "If I wanted to."
Your breath caught. “Go to hell.”
Henry just hummed, nodding his head as to agree with your statement. "Ladies first."
And then, he dipped his head, his lips grazing along the line of your jaw. It wasn’t a kiss. Not really. Just a brush of warmth, a suggestion, as though he was testing you. As though he wanted to see how long you could last before you cracked.
“You hate me,” he mused, his mouth ghosting over your skin. “You hate this.”
Your fingers curled against his chest, gripping the soft, expensive fabric of his sweater like you weren’t sure whether to pull him closer or push him away. His lips moved lower, the curve of your throat, the sharp line of your collarbone, never quite touching, just enough to make you want to chase the feeling. And god, you hated that.
His hand slid lower, past your waist, tracing slow, teasing lines over your hip.
"Say please," he whispered again.
You swallowed hard. “Go fuck yourself.”
Henry sighed, like you were being particularly difficult, and then, he pressed his lips just beneath your ear, the faintest scrape of teeth against sensitive skin. Your breath hitched. His hands curled against your hips, pulling you just slightly, just barely, against him. And oh, you felt it then, how hard he was, how much he was enjoying this.
The realization sent something sharp and hot spiraling through you, a dangerous kind of thrill, a rush of power tangled with frustration and something else you weren’t ready to name. Henry leaned in, pressing his body flush against yours, caging you against the bookshelf.
And then, with a voice so low it was almost a growl, he murmured,
"I think you like being told what to do."
Your breath left you in a sharp exhale. Henry tilted his head, studying you, like he was savoring your reaction.
Slowly, maddeningly, he dragged his lips down the side of your throat, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just above your pulse. And before you know it, you let your desire overcome your body, you let it consume your movements and your thoughts. Your tongue tangled with his, so eager as you pulled his shirt desperately to bring him closer. He guided your tongue into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing you to bite your lip, toying with your mouth like he owned it.
You hated him. You thought you had. He thought you had too but he could feel how much you loved this in your own sick and twisted way, your hips pressing against his.
He smiles, moving his hands to grip your hips. In a quick movement, he guides you to the desk with all of your work scattered on it. He moves to stand behind you, and slowly trails down your spine with his finger tips before pushing you down to lean against the desk. Your hands slapped onto the table to catch yourself
“Henry,” you whined, trying to look over your shoulder at him. He smiled down at you while sliding up your skirt.
“Say please.” He already knew what your answer would be. He knew you couldn’t do it. Not yet.
You shook your head side to side, pressing yourself back into his hands. “You’re insufferable,” you managed, voice breathless, unsteady.
Henry exhaled a quiet laugh.
"You’re trembling."
You hated that he was right.
Hated the way your body betrayed you, the way his voice sent a pulse of heat straight through you.
He smiled, squeezing the ample flesh, then delivered a swift slap that made you gasp. “Oh darling, let’s see where this hatred will take us.”
He slid his right hand between your legs, gliding two fingers over the damp spot on your panties. You gritted your teeth, not wanting him to be awarded the pleasure of your moans, gripping the wood of the table to keep yourself shut when he applied a little pressure, moving his hand in a slow circle.
“Such a shame,” he said, pausing his movement. “Letting your pride get in the way of your own pleasure. It’s not as noble as you want to believe.”
“You’re a pretentious, self righteous, piece of sh-” you cut yourself off with a whine as his hand came down onto your flesh again.
“There we are,” he murmured, and in quick movement, he pulled down your panties, letting the fabric pool around your ankles, and kicked your feet further apart, forcing you to lay your chest flush against the table. “So good for me now huh,” he purred, bringing his hand back between your legs.
“Fuck you,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his hand.
You were already soaked, hot and slick as his middle finger swiped through your sex. He started massaging your clit, quick, light circles that had you moaning breathlessly. He moved away from your clit and eased his middle finger inside of you, curling gently as you bit your lip, nearly drawing blood. Your walls fluttered around him, sucking back against his finger when he pulled it out. You let an annoyed whine escape your lips, feeling pathetic to let it slip.
“Say it,” he rasped, snaking a hand up your spine to grip your hair and pull your head back.
“No.” You replied through gritted teeth, and before you knew it you felt him pushing into you. He drew back a few inches before snapping his hips forward, gripping your hips as he pounded into you.
You screamed, your whole body locking up and then losing all control of itself, collapsing harder onto the shaking table. He didn't let up, no matter how much you shook.
He was panting, the heat from the fire in the study made sweat collect around his hairline and drip down his spine. You felt as if your soul had ascended, you were reaching for the sublime. You let out loud noises from your lips, letting the pleasure drip like honey, letting him grip your hips. You didn’t want to, but you needed to.
“Please, Henry, please.” You reached back for him, nails dragging along his forearm, and he felt himself teeter on the edge of release, his balls drawing up tight as liquid heat spread through his pelvis.
“I knew you could do it. Just had to fuck that attitude out of you, didn’t I.” Your pussy clenched at his words, a wanton moan falling from your lips, and he smiled.
“Yes,” You moaned out, tears beginning to prick your eyes and threaten to fall onto your cheeks.
“How much do you want it?” Henry asked, almost politely, which almost made you laugh. If you didn’t feel like your body was being taken over, like pleasure was swimming through the veins of your body, making your heart pulse at a rate you didn't know was possible, you would have laughed.
“So much, please Henry.” You were both so close, holding on to the brink of this worldly feeling. Then, it happened.
“Yes, yes, fuck!” It hit you, your whole body convulsing as it ripped through, and he was done for too. It flooded through you like golden light through cracked stained glass, something vast, something unbearable, an ecstasy so sharp it teetered on pain, leaving you trembling, hollowed out, and whole all at once. You were nothing but a vessel for it, a body undone by beauty, by longing, by the sheer ruinous joy of surrender.
Bracing his hands on the table as he came down, his hips involuntarily rocking into your greedy warmth. You, again, were trembling, completely boneless, held up entirely by the table and his hips. He leaned forward, pressing kisses into your hair. “All you needed to do was say please,” he murmured, throat tight with affection.
“Such a jerk,” you muttered, amusement ringing through your tone so he could catch it. You chuckled before he moved his feet, letting you close your legs, and he hissed through his teeth at the new tightness around his softening cock, stealing a final thrust before slipping out of you.
The only sounds were the ragged edge of your breathing, the ticking of the antique clock on the far wall, and the faint rustle of Henry adjusting his sweater sleeves and you fixing your own clothes up.
You were slumped against the desk, fingers curled against the polished wood as if it might anchor you, keep you from unraveling entirely. Your skin was feverish, your body still humming with the aftershocks of everything that had just happened.
Henry, infuriatingly composed, leaned back against the bookshelf, watching you. His lips were pink, his hair mussed in a way that betrayed his otherwise careful exterior.
You tilted your head and smiled slightly, biting back its full capacity. “Don’t look so smug.”
“Why not?” His voice was languid, smug, so utterly him you could’ve throttled him. “I think I’ve earned it.”
You had to force yourself not to laugh. “You-”
Shifting closer, voice a murmur. “Would you rather I pretend it didn’t happen? That you didn’t enjoy it?”
You bristled, standing so abruptly your knees nearly buckled. Henry caught your wrist before you could move away, his fingers light but firm.
"Careful," he murmured, tilting his head. "I wouldn’t want you to fall."
Your pulse leapt.
“You’re staring,” you muttered, still breathless.
“So are you.”
You scowled, pushing yourself up, reaching for your coat draped over the chair. “Well, I���m leaving.”
Henry hummed. “Why?”
You hesitated, fingers curling in the fabric. And then, just as you turned toward the door, Henry caught your wrist, not forcefully, not teasingly, just… gently. A stark contrast to everything that had just transpired between you.
“Stay.” His voice was quieter now, none of the sharp edges from earlier, none of the arrogance. Just the simple weight of the word. You swallowed, suddenly unsure.
“We hate each other,” you reminded him, but your voice lacked its usual bite.
A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Do we?”
Your heart pounded. He was still holding your wrist, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your pulse. It wasn’t calculated, wasn’t another move in whatever game the two of you had been playing for years.
It was just him, just you.
“I won’t ask again,” he murmured, eyes searching yours. “If you want to go, go.”
For a second, you thought about it, thought about leaving, pretending none of this had happened, continuing as if you still couldn’t stand the sight of him.
But then, instead of pulling away, your fingers curled around his.
You exhaled, shoulders sinking. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to walk back in the cold.”
Henry’s lips twitched. “Of course.”
You rolled your eyes, but when he laced your fingers together, you didn’t let go.
#tshfanfiction#tsh donna tartt#henry winter#henrywinter#thesecrethistory#richardpapen#francis abernathy#francisabernathy#bunny corcoran#bunnycorcoran#charles macaulay#charlesmacauley#tshfanfic#thesecrethistoryimagine#the secret history fanfic#the secret history fanfiction#tsh spoilers#tsh#donna tartt#the secret history#henrywintersmut#henrywinterimagine#henrymarchbankswinter#henry winter smut#henrywinterfanfic#dark academia#henry winter x reader
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“casual” | manjiro sano x reader
chapter twenty 𓂃⋆.˚
synopsis: a no-strings-attached arrangement between a party girl and a frat boy turns messy when mikey falls first. but when (y/n) runs from love, she loses him for good—until fate brings them back together, years too late.
characters: manjiro “mikey” sano, fem!reader, izana kurokawa, emma sano
warnings: angst, heartbreak, fwb dynamics, explicit content, crack, fluff, jealousy, insecurities, themes of regret, alcohol use, violence, bullying, depression
notes: i sincerely apologize for the slow updates. i just noticed the last update was like 3 days ago already? what the hell. anyway, i just don’t wanna give a half ass chapter that’s why i’m taking my time writing casual (i just got busy this week lol). anyway, ig brace yourselves?
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
chapter twenty
the day before mikey’s birthday, y/n stood in front of the sano household, ready to help emma bake his cake as promised. she rang the doorbell, waiting for emma to answer.
but when the door opened, she was met with someone else entirely.
izana.
he stood there with an easy smile, looking way too calm for her liking. “oh, y/n. come in. emma’s already in the kitchen.”
she nodded, stepping inside, but for some reason, the air around izana always felt… different. she couldn’t put her finger on it. maybe she was overthinking again.
before she could even drop her bag on the dining table, emma’s voice cut through the air.
“you’re late.” arms crossed, face unimpressed. “girl, we were supposed to start an hour ago.”
y/n rolled her eyes. “blame your brother. i had to come up with, like, fifty different excuses just so he’d let me leave alone. i was this close to snitching about the cake.”
emma gasped dramatically. “he’s still at your place? girl, kick him out already! he’s not sick anymore. stop babying him.” then she narrowed her eyes. “but, knowing you, this is probably your idea either.” she stuck her tongue out in mock disgust.
“hey! what’s that supposed to mean?”
emma smirked but said nothing.
as they started prepping the ingredients, emma, as expected, went on her usual rants. y/n was used to it by now.
“you know what i’m really mad about? summer classes! do you know how much i’m missing out on?! and it’s your fault, y/n!”
“excuse me?” y/n scoffed. “i only said i was taking extra credit classes. you’re the one who decided to tag along.”
“well, duh! you’re my best friend. i can’t just let you suffer alone while i’m out having fun. and, please, you need to stop lying to yourself. i know you took that class just so you can hang out there with mikey.” she rolled her eyes. “don’t think i don’t know he failed one of his subjects and has to take remedial classes this summer.”
y/n didn’t even try to deny it. instead, she smirked. “oh, really? then what about you? didn’t ken fail too? and isn’t that the real reason you enrolled?” she mimicked air quotes. “you literally said, ‘if i spend my summer without him, it’s basically cheating.’”
“shhh!” emma slammed her eyes shut as if she could pretend she never said that.
y/n burst out laughing.
just then, izana walked into the kitchen. “what are you guys talking about?”
“hell.” emma deadpanned.
“summer classes,” y/n added while stirring the cake batter.
they said in unison.
emma turned to her brother with an exaggerated look of pity. “y/n, this one here is a masochist. like, why would anyone willingly enroll in summer classes?”
izana chuckled. “you see, my dear little sister, i had to take the remaining credits so i can enroll next semester. it’s just two weeks, though—just finishing up what i left behind back in the philippines.”
“ugh.” emma pouted. “why is everyone in summer classes?” she dramatically clutched her chest. “i just need to survive next week. please, please, please. that’s the last week.”
y/n laughed. “you’ll live.”
“do you guys need any help?” izana leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching as y/n and emma moved around.
“actually, yeah,” emma said, exasperated. “an extra set of hands would be great.”
izana looked at y/n for approval, raising a brow. she hesitated for a second—but then she just nodded.
and so the three of them got to work. everything was going smoothly at first—measuring ingredients, mixing, setting up the oven—until izana got put in charge of the icing.
which was a mistake.
y/n barely had time to react before she felt something cold and sticky on her nose.
“izana, what the hell?!” she shrieked, wiping at the icing he’d just smudged on her.
when she turned to glare at him, he had the audacity to grin, looking way too pleased with himself.
y/n scoffed. oh, so that’s how we’re playing?
without hesitation, she grabbed some icing and smeared it across his cheek, making him laugh.
next thing she knew, they were running around the kitchen, dodging and attacking like a couple of kids, giggling in between.
but then—
“would you two quit it?!” emma snapped, arms crossed.
which was exactly when izana, still grinning, turned on her.
before she could react, he smeared a huge glob of icing on her cheek.
“IZANA!!!” emma shrieked. “YOU’RE SO DEAD TO ME!!”
she lunged at him, but he dodged effortlessly, grabbing more icing. and then—chaos.
izana targeted emma relentlessly, smearing icing on her forehead, cheeks, even her hair.
“STOP TARGETING ME, YOU ASSHOLE!!” emma screamed, flailing her arms.
“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” izana said innocently, despite the clear evidence all over emma’s face.
y/n was practically crying from laughter at this point.
when emma finally escaped his grasp, she stomped off toward the bathroom, muttering a string of curses under her breath.
that left y/n and izana alone in the kitchen, still breathless from laughing.
they made their way to the sink, cleaning themselves off. as izana washed up, y/n waited beside him, the energy finally settling into something calmer.
then, out of nowhere, izana spoke. “so… is this your first time celebrating mikey’s birthday?”
y/n nodded. “yeah.”
“do you have a present for him yet?”
“no.” she sighed. “i have no idea what to get him.”
izana hummed, finishing up and stepping aside so she could wash her hands. he grabbed a towel, drying himself off. “want me to help you pick something?”
she glanced at him. “what do you have in mind?”
reaching into his pocket, izana pulled out his motorcycle keys. attached to them was a small keychain—a red charm shaped like his signature earrings, lined with intricate gold details. he held it up for her to see.
“mikey likes matching with people,” he said. “i got him a matching one of these back when we first got our bikes from shinichiro.” a small chuckle left him. “not sure if he still has it, though.”
y/n tilted her head. “oh, he does. i’ve seen it on his keys.”
izana blinked in surprise before his expression softened. “really?”
she nodded. “mhm.”
he looked… happy.
after a beat, he turned to her. “so?” he asked. “want my help?”
y/n grabbed the towel and dried her hands, glancing up at him.
“alright,” she said, smiling.
as soon as they stepped into the kitchen, they put the final touches on the cake. it turned out perfect—so much so that emma immediately pulled out her phone, snapping endless pictures from every angle like it was a high-end photoshoot.
y/n watched her dramatically reposition the plate for better lighting.
“look at this masterpiece.” emma said to herself as she continued taking pictures.
izana chuckled before turning to y/n. “emma, y/n and i are heading out for a bit.”
“mhm, okay,” emma mumbled, still fixated on her impromptu cake photography session. then, as an afterthought, she added, “make sure y/n gets home safe.”
and with that, they left.
outside, izana led her to where his motorbike was parked.
before y/n could even reach for the helmet, izana grabbed it himself. without hesitation, he slipped it onto her head, his fingers brushing against her skin as he adjusted the strap under her chin.
y/n froze.
he’s so close again.
“there.” his voice was soft, almost amused, as he finished securing the helmet. and then, as if to make things worse, he gently lifted her chin, flashing her a small smile.
y/n just stood there, completely dumbfounded.
was he always like this to everyone?
before she could dwell on it, izana casually turned away, swinging his leg over the bike. then, he held out his hand to help her get on.
hesitantly, she took it and climbed on behind him.
once settled, she gripped the back of his shirt lightly—not wanting to overstep. but apparently, that wasn’t enough for izana.
without a word, he reached behind him, grabbed her wrists, and pulled her arms around his waist, securing them there.
y/n stiffened.
this was too close.
but izana said nothing. he just started the engine like it was the most natural thing in the world.
meanwhile, y/n’s thoughts were all over the place. she was hugging him. actually hugging him. would mikey be mad if he saw this?
wait—why did that even matter?
it wasn’t like they were together.
right?
but the thought of mikey getting the wrong idea—of seeing her like this with izana—made her uneasy. she didn’t know why, but it did.
lost in thought, she didn’t even notice when they finally pulled up to the mall.
as soon as they entered the mall, izana grabbed y/n’s wrist and led her toward a small store tucked in the corner.
“good, they’re still open,” he muttered, almost in relief. “it’s been years since i last came here.”
the moment they stepped inside, an elderly woman behind the counter beamed at them.
“welcome! oh—i remember you!” she gasped, eyes lighting up. “you’re the young man who customized those keychains a few years ago! my, my, you’ve grown up so beautifully.”
izana rubbed the back of his head, looking almost shy. “it’s been a while.”
the old lady then turned her attention to y/n, her smile growing even warmer. “and is this your girlfriend? oh, you’re a lucky one—she’s such a beautiful girl.”
“oh, we’re not—” y/n started, but before she could finish, izana casually draped an arm over her shoulders.
“she really is beautiful, right, baby?” he said smoothly, shooting her a teasing smile.
y/n blinked up at him, completely thrown off.
leaning down, izana whispered near her ear, “just play along. she’s a sucker for romantic couples—we might get a discount.”
y/n rolled her eyes but went along with it, offering the old lady a forced but polite smile.
“so, what do you want, babe? matching necklaces? keychains?” izana asked, clearly enjoying himself.
“bracelets,” y/n answered, ignoring the way he was grinning at her.
“ah, perfect choice!” the old lady clapped her hands. “they’ll suit you two wonderfully.”
y/n shot izana a glare, but he just bit his lip, trying to hold back a smirk. he’s enjoying this way too much.
while the old lady got to work customizing the bracelets, y/n found herself getting more and more excited. she could already picture mikey wearing his—and hers, too. meanwhile, izana casually browsed through the store, his hands in his pockets.
“it’s done, dear.”
y/n turned back and gasped. “oh, wow! thank you so much, it’s beautiful.”
the bracelets were simple but elegant, each engraved with an initial—one with an M and the other with her own.
“thank you! here, let me pay—”
“oh, no need, dear. it’s my gift to you two lovebirds.”
y/n’s eyes widened, and she turned to izana in shock. he leaned in, smirking as he whispered, “told ya.”
y/n groaned internally, but she still bowed in gratitude before they both stepped out of the store.
the moment they were outside, her excitement bubbled over, and before she could think, she threw her arms around izana’s neck.
“thank you, thank you, thank you!!” she practically jumped on him.
izana stiffened, clearly caught off guard. for a second, he didn’t know where to put his hands, but before he could decide, y/n quickly pulled away.
she cleared her throat, awkwardly avoiding his gaze. “uh—sorry.”
izana just chuckled, shaking his head. “silly.” he reached out and poked her nose. “shall we go home?”
“wait.” she tugged on his sleeve, pouting slightly. “wanna get cheesecake.”
izana let out a soft laugh. cute.
“c’mon.”
the air in the café was warm, filled with the comforting aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries. y/n and izana sat at a small table near the window, their drinks in front of them. izana had ordered her favorite without even asking, and of course, he paid—something that led to playful bickering between them.
“seriously, izana, you didn’t have to—”
“too late,” he smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. “i win.”
y/n huffed, but there was a small smile on her lips. her gaze flickered to the time on her phone, and her eyes widened.
“oh, shoot. i need to get home.” she quickly grabbed her bag. “i promised manjiro a movie marathon in exchange for letting me go this morning. your brother is such a pain sometimes.” she rolled her eyes but laughed.
izana chuckled too, shaking his head. “yeah, he never does anything unless there’s something in it for him.”
they finally stood up. without warning, he reached down and took her hand, effortlessly intertwining their fingers.
y/n’s breath hitched. wait, what?
her heart pounded against her ribs, but izana acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. he simply tugged her along toward the exit, as if holding hands was the most natural thing in the world.
but just as they reached the door, someone else pushed it open from the outside.
y/n’s entire body froze.
mikey.
her fingers uncurled from izana’s in an instant, panic surging through her.
mikey’s eyes flickered to the plastic bag in her other hand—the one holding the cheesecake izana had bought for her. the realization dawned on him almost immediately.
his expression didn’t change. not really. but there was something in his eyes, something distant, something cold.
“guess i don’t need to buy you one after all,” he muttered, voice quiet but sharp.
y/n felt something crack inside her chest.
“manjiro—”
but he was already turning away.
“wait, manjiro—” she rushed after him, reaching out, fingers curling around his arm.
he stopped. just for a second.
“it’s not what it looks like, i swear—”
he let out a soft chuckle, but there was no warmth in it. just something hollow, something that made y/n’s stomach twist painfully.
“you don’t need to explain anything, y/n,” he said, gently prying her hand off him. “we’re not even together.”
and then, without another word, he walked away.
leaving her standing there.
leaving her with the weight of something unsaid, something that felt dangerously close to regret.
chapter nineteen | chapter twenty-one
#tokyo revengers#manjiro sano#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev x y/n#manjiro#sano manjiro x reader#mikey x reader#manjiro x reader#manjiro sano angst#sano manjiro#manjiro sano x y/n#manjiro sano x you#sano manjiro smut#manjiro sano x reader#sano mikey manjiro#izana kurokawa#tokyo revengers izana#izana x reader#tokyo revengers angst#tokyo revengers fluff#mikey sano fluff#mikey angst#izana fluff#mikey fluff#mikey sano#mikey x y/n#izana x you#manjiro x you#tokyo revengers sano manjiro#tokrev manjiro
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Chasing Cars | ch 5.5 (jjk)
���summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: explicit content: mentions of jerking off and of fingering/cum play
☆word count: 2k
☆a/n: i am drunk have fun i love jin <3
☆join the discord server here!
☆series masterpost
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Jungkook has been confused. He’s been confused since he woke up tangled up in bed with you, remembering the events of the night before. Remembering the feeling of you on his dick - how right it felt, yet how wrong it was.
It was wrong, because you’re Taehyung’s sister. You aren’t supposed to be together like that. Hell, without Taehyung, your paths would have never crossed. So he pulled away. Locked himself in a dark part of his mind, some place he doesn’t want you to ever set foot in, and he forced himself to distance himself from you.
He knows you noticed. Maybe that’s why, when the power came back on, he didn’t immediately leave like he originally thought he would. But when you teased him from crying over the anime you watched, he knew your time was over.
No matter how much he didn’t want it to be.
Does he blame you for growing annoyed? No. He understands. He understands why you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder. He thinks he deserves it, yet when he sees you at the library during his shift, he can’t help the way his heartbeat picks up in his chest, recognizing you for what you are.
Something he’ll never dare name.
So maybe it’s on purpose that he steps in your way when you’re walking out of the library. Maybe it’s to see what you’ll do, if you’ll speak the words he so desperately wanted you to say when he said it was time to go back to normal. Words he’ll also never dare think, because what if Taehyung knows?
What if Taehyung knows and he simultaneously loses his best friend and you?
Jungkook meets your gaze, a smile reaching for his lips, though he doesn’t let it reach its destination. Your friend Ria snorts, and Jungkook steps aside, frowning slightly. He doesn’t miss the way your cheeks slowly turn red, even more so as you say, “Ignore her.”
His eyes find yours again. “Noted,” he lets out, and then it’s like the moment is stretching. It’s like it’s you and him alone in the library, Ria fading out of focus. He can almost imagine the power being out, and the bubble you’d been wrapped in still floating around the two of you.
But the bubble bursts when a girl speaks next to him - Allison, he thinks - though he reckons the bubble probably burst when he told you you should pretend nothing ever happened.
Allison says she needs help, and he has no reason to refuse considering that it’s part of his job, so he has to walk away, unable to tell you anything more.
To his surprise, you don’t get home until much later that evening, while he’s a beer and a half in with Jimin, playing video games to decompress after work. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat, and he finds himself asking, “Done studying?”
You nod as you shrug, saying, “I can’t retain any more information. My head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Maybe I could help with that,” he teases you, if only so that he can see that blush on your cheeks again.
The one that almost makes him forget that your brother is Taehyung.
Almost.
“You wish, JK.”
He does. He fucking does, and it’s all kinds of stupid that he does. Especially as Jimin is right there, hidden in the bathroom.
“Want a beer?” Jungkook asks even though he knows he shouldn’t. He just doesn’t want you to disappear in your room, not when you’re finally talking to him again.
Jimin intervenes before you answer, convincing you to indeed share a beer with them, and a few seconds later, you’re joining Jungkook in the living room while Jimin goes to fetch a beer for you and him. You sit on Jungkook’s left, as far as you possibly can, and his heart does that weird thing again. It makes him feel awkward, and he clenches his jaw.
“Feel free to grab this if you get cold,” he says, motioning to the blanket on the table, if only so that he can cut through the awkwardness. He offers you a smile, gaze meeting yours, but you gulp as you look away.
“We should talk about…” you whisper.
His heart rate increases so suddenly he thinks he might be about to go into cardiac arrest. “What about it?”
You shoot him a warning glance, probably because it’s likely that Jimin heard, and it settles Jungkook’s heart in his chest. It makes no sense, especially not to himself, and he offers you a smirk.
You blush, and he thinks he’s floating, but then Jimin walks out of the kitchen, interrupting the moment. He falls back down to Earth, and when Jimin suggests watching Attack on Titan, Jungkook finds himself saying.
Maybe because your gravity is pulling him in, and he doesn’t want the distraction of having to focus on a game. Hell, he’s not even sure he’d be able to focus - all he manages to do as the anime advances is lean infinitely closer to you.
Action speaks louder than words, he reckons, because he finds himself half-sprawled on you, and it feels like heaven. For this peaceful moment, he doesn’t care that Jimin is right there, eyeing you suspiciously. He’s just happy to be with you, and he thinks it’ll have to suffice.
Jimin leaves right as the episode ends, claiming Sera is waiting for him. Jungkook knows that she isn’t - she was with Lisa tonight, but he won’t call Jimin out. Not when he thinks it might be because Jimin wants to leave you two alone, something he’s been craving more than he thought he did.
“So,” Jungkook lets out when Jimin has left. “You wanted to talk?”
His heart immediately starts beating wildly in his chest, and he disguises it by tilting his head to the side in what he hopes is an innocent gesture.
You nod once. “Yes.”
His heartbeat is so loud he barely can even hear you say the simple word, yet he replies, “I’m listening.”
“What should we do about Taehyung?”
The question lands like a blow to the face, and he sucks in a breath as regrets swirl within him. “Nothing.” He has to force the next sentence out, and it tastes bitter on his tongue. “We just pretend nothing happened, no?”
You don’t like it. He can tell that you don’t - you stiffen, turning ashen.
“Is that what you want?” you ask.
No. Not at all. Not in a million years. But it’s the only possible outcome, so he hides his hands in the pockets of his pants, if only to hide the slight tremble that’s taken over them, tremble that he’s able to keep to a minimum, unaffecting his voice.
“Yeah. I don’t see why it would need to be a big deal,” he says.
But it is. It’s a big deal, and he never realized how good of an actor he is before today.
“It’s not a big deal,” you mutter. “‘I’m not trying to make it into a big deal.”
He’s an asshole, he knows he is. Rotten to the bone, as he says, “Right,” a smirk on his lips.
You’re annoyed. You shut your eyes, shaking your head. “No, for real,” you insist. “If you want us to just pretend that nothing happened, then we do that.”
He doesn’t want it, but isn’t it the safest option? Isn’t it saving you both the embarrassment and heartbreak that Taehyung would cause you if he knew?
“You awfully sound like that’s not what you want,” he forces himself to say, though he hopes you can hear the true meaning in his words. That it isn’t what he wants, though he can’t say it aloud.
“I just don’t want things to get weird.” You pause, and then add, “Since we live together.”
On that Jungkook can reassure you. He’d never let things grow weird between the two of you.
“Don’t worry about it, peach,” he says. “I won’t make things weird.”
Yet, as he says the words, something aches. Especially as the silence stretches while you hold each other’s gaze until your eyes fall to the beer in your hand. Jungkook almost wants to tell you to look at him, to never stop looking at him.
Instead, he heads towards his room, wishing you good night over his shoulder.
*****
Emily is a nice girl. She’s gorgeous, Jungkook is entirely aware of it, yet he doesn’t find in her eyes what he’s looking for.
He doesn’t think he’ll be able to find it again. Not when he sees you walking into the bar, carrying yourself with that gentle elegance that attracts the gaze. You eye him up and down, and then glance away. He follows your line of gaze to notice Hoseok walking towards you, and something very ugly settles deep in his chest as he watches Hoseok pressing a kiss on your temple. Jungkook clenches his jaw, and then forces himself to focus on Emily, even though he’d rather not be stuck with her right now.
And he remains stuck for a while until she says she has to go to the bathroom. He doesn’t miss it for the invitation that it is, yet he ignores it, telling her he’ll wait for her at the bar.
Especially considering that you’re in his vicinity again, talking to a long-haired blond guy, and you look uncomfortable as all hell. It shows in the tense spread of your shoulders, and in the way your eyes keep darting to the side. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, stepping closer.
“I realized that none of them compared to you,” Jungkook hears as he stops behind you, and his heart squeezes uncomfortably in his chest at the blatant flirting.
You take a step back, bumping into Jungkook, and he asks, “Hey, everything okay here?”
You meet his gaze, your eyes panicked, and Jungkook moves closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, trying to reassure you. The guy scoffs, and Jungkook holds you a little tighter, only because he can.
“You’re fucking your brother’s friend?” he asks.
Jungkook almost wants to say ‘What about it?’, but you push him off of you, and he stumbles back, eyes going round.
“I am not,” you spit, and it hurts far more than it should. “Maybe he just tried to step in because you can’t fucking take a clue, can you?”
There’s a moment of stunned silence as Jungkook finds himself stifling a surprised laugh.
“Excuse me?” the guy eventually says.
“You heard the lady,” Jungkook intervenes. “Fuck off.”
The seething look you throw Jungkook’s way almost makes him cower from how unexpected it was.
“I don’t fucking need your help,” you throw at him.
Something definitely aches now, and Jungkook frowns, watching as you slightly shake your head, an apologetic look on your features. But he’s stunned silent, stunned realizing how much he wanted to protect you.
How you didn’t want him to protect you. Because why would you? He only fucked you once because the circumstances aligned for it, and now he’s told you you should pretend nothing happened.
He barely minds the animosity then. He thinks he deserves it. So when Emily pulls on his arm, telling him she’s been waiting for him, and then adding for just him to hear that Eunwoo, one of his close friends, is throwing up in the hallway next to the bathroom, Jungkook finds himself following her.
Even though all his instincts tell him to stay with you.
Much later that night, after Jungkook has gotten drunk alone back at the apartment after dropping Eunwoo off at his, Jungkook stares at the text he sent you.
It sits unanswered, and Jungkook thinks, maybe he is the problem after all.
☆☆☆☆☆
hihihi i am actually very drunk but i hope you guys liked it!! please let me know what you think about the drabble and about our baby simp jungkook
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
#chasing cars ch 5.5#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#jeon jungkook#btswritersclub#chasing cars#chasing cars series
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Dumb & Poetic 2- Lucerys Velaryon
(part one/part two)

Modern!Lucerys x Reader
Summary: A clash of egos. A rich boy and a scholarship girl. Sounds like a match made in hell. So, obviously, your professor pairs you up for the semester's most important project. A week alone on the sea with the entitled Lucerys... How ever would you survive?
Modern!AU; Enemies to Lovers; Collage!AU
Warnings: SMUT 18+; masturbation (m! and f!); mentions to vaping; sexting; slight Addam x Reader; oral (f! receiving); anal play (he literally just touches the hole a few times, nothing goes in); foul language (no degradation); creampie (reader is one the pill); nipple play; big D! Lucerys (tall guys are 9/10 packing)
Words: in this part 20k (all smut basically OOPS)
Notes: No description of the reader (just that she has hair). English is not my first language. Technically this could be read on its own also. There is a love confession in this one FINALLY. RISE MY LUKE GIRLIES; RISE I SAY!!!!! If you do not agree with any of the warnings, do NOT read.
As you stood outside your dorm, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, you took a long drag from the vape Baela had gifted you, the sweet flavour of apple dancing on your tongue. You couldn't help but think about��Lucerys' texts from earlier in the week, the ones that kept replaying in your mind like a broken record.
"I've sailed through storms far worse than any limits your boy could imagine...". Was he taking a jab at Addam? Probably. The arrogance of that man, always needing to one-up everyone and everything. But then again, Lucerys had always been a bit...much. Intense and overwhelming in every way.
You took one last pull from the vape, the smoke curling from your lips as you exhaled. Then, with a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and set your bag in front of you. And as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn't wait to see what would happen.
Lucerys pulled up to your campus in a sleek, black Mercedes, the silver accents glinting in the morning sun. He had risen early to oversee the final preparations for your journey, determined to ensure everything was perfect. As he stepped out, his eyes immediately found you, drinking in the sight of your form and the way the sunlight caught the strands of your hair.
Lucerys approached you with a confident, almost arrogant stride, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He bowed low, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached for your bag. "Good morning, princess," he murmured, his voice low and smooth like velvet. "I trust you slept well?" He straightened up, holding your duffel bag in one strong hand. His other hand reached out to take yours, his long fingers curling around your palm in a possessive grip.
Lucerys led you to the car. He opened the door for you, a flourish of gentlemanly gallantry that made you feel a flicker of something suspiciously like admiration. He had always been so arrogant, so infuriatingly self-assured. But he had his moments, moments when he almost seemed... like a real man.
As you settled into the soft leather seat, Lucerys slid beside you, his long legs stretching out. He turned to you, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face as he started the engine.
"I hope you don't get seasick easily, baby," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with unspoken promise. His eyes met yours, a dark, intense look that made your heart skip a beat in your chest.
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your glossed lips as you turned to face Lucerys. "Baby? Since when did princess turn into baby?" You teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You could feel the rumble of the engine beneath you.
Lucerys' eyes flicked to yours, a wicked glint sparkling in their depths. You could see his jaw clenched, the muscle twitching slightly, as he fought back a retort. But you weren't going to let him get to you that easily. No, you had to stay strong and keep your wits.
You settled back against the leather seat, crossing one leg over the other. The skirt you wore riding up just a fraction, exposing a sliver of thigh. "I hope you have good music taste," you continued your tone light with an undercurrent of challenge. "The port's about half an hour from here, and I am not about to listen to shitty music for that long."
Lucerys paid no attention to your words, his blood running hot as he watched you cross your legs, the hem of your sundress riding up to reveal a glimpse of soft skin. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as the desert. It made him want to pull over and kiss that smirk right off your face until you were breathless and panting, asking for more.
You reached out, your fingers hovering over the touchscreen display. You could feel the heat of Lucerys' gaze on you, and practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to devise a suitable response. But you paid him no mind, focusing solely on scrolling through the radio station options, determined to find something worthy.
"Don't worry, princess, I have excellent taste in everything," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with unspoken meaning.
He turned his attention to the road, his eyes narrowing as he merged onto the highway. The speedometer climbed steadily. Lucerys glanced at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he reached out to turn up the volume on the radio.
The sound of classic rock filled the car, a familiar guitar instrumental, making you smile. Lucerys bobbed his head slightly to the beat, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel in time with the music. "This is one of my favourites," he said.
You smirked as the opening riff of Creep filled the car, rolling your eyes at Lucerys' predictable musical choice. "Of course you would listen to Radiohead," you teased, rolling your eyes. You inhaled deeply as the salty sea breeze rushed through the open window.
Glancing over at Lucerys, you couldn't help but admire him behind the wheel. His strong hands gripped the steering wheel, and his veins showed clearly. As your eyes trailed over his chiselled features, you felt a flutter in your stomach, a feeling you tried desperately to dismiss.
But as you watched him, you couldn't help but imagine those strong hands on your body, exploring every curve and contour. You shivered slightly at the thought, a warmth spreading through your core as you squirmed in your seat. Would his touch be rough and demanding or slow and teasing?
You crossed your legs tightly, trying to ignore the growing ache between your thighs. You could feel your panties growing damp as dirty thoughts filled your mind - Lucerys pinning you against the wall of the cabin, his hard bulge grinding against your ass as he ripped your dress off with a growl. The image made you bite your lip as you pressed your thighs together even harder, desperately trying to relieve some of the pressure building there.
You knew you shouldn't be thinking such filthy thoughts about your best friend's cousin, but you couldn't help it. There was just something about Lucerys that brought out parts that craved to be claimed and fucked until you couldn't walk straight. You just prayed that he couldn't read your mind and see the lewd fantasies playing out there because if he did...
Lucerys glanced at you, noticing how you squirmed in your seat. He couldn't help but smirk as he caught you admiring him, your gaze lingering on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He knew exactly, what you were thinking, and could practically see the dirty thoughts.
"Is the music not to your liking, princess?" Lucerys asked, his voice low. He didn't take his eyes off the road, but he could feel the heat of your gaze on him, burning into his skin. He knew you were admiring his body.
"No, I like it," you replied with a casual shrug.
Unbeknownst to you, Lucerys was lost in thoughts about you, far more intense and depraved than you could ever imagine. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as his gaze lingered on you, revealing a desire beneath the surface of his composed exterior.
Lucerys's cock twitched in his pants as he thought about sliding his hand up your thigh, feeling the heat of your skin and the dampness of your panties. He wanted to tear them off and expose your glistening pussy, rubbing his fingers along your slick folds.
He could feel your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumped them in and out, his thumb circling your clit. His other hand would be busy groping your tits, pinching and tugging at your nipples until they were stiff little peaks.
Lucerys's cock was rock hard now, straining against the confines of his pants. He wanted to free it, to take your hand and wrap it around his thick shaft, showing you just how big and hard he was because of you.
He wanted to make you stroke him, to feel your soft hand pumping his hard cock as he thrust into your fist. He wanted to hear you moan as he fucked your hand, his hips snapping forward again and again until he came all over your fingers.
But more than anything, Lucerys wanted to bury his face between your thighs, to inhale the scent of your arousal as he licked and sucked at your clit. He would bring you to the brink of orgasm with his mouth before sinking his hard cock deep inside your tight, wet cunt and fucking you until you screamed his name.
He knew he should focus on the road, on getting you to the port safely. But all he could think about was bending you over the back seat and taking you from behind, pounding into you with all the lust and desire that had been growing between you for months.
You sighed in relief as the port finally appeared, the marina stretching before you. At least there would be more room on the yacht, some much-needed breathing space from the charged atmosphere between you in the confines of the car.
As Lucerys pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park, you turned to him with a curious arch of your brow. "So... which one is yours?" You asked, nodding towards the various vessels bobbing gently in the water. The yachts ranged from modest sailboats to luxury mega-yachts.
Lucerys smirked confidently, as he followed your gaze towards the marina, a glint of pride in his eyes. He stepped out of the car and walked around to open your door, offering his hand to help you out. As you took it, he led you towards the dock, his stride purposeful and self-assured.
"The Sea Dragon," he declared, gesturing grandly to a massive, opulent yacht that dwarfed some of the surrounding vessels. It was a magnificent sight. The name "Sea Dragon" was emblazoned in elegant, gold-leaf lettering.
Lucerys couldn't help but puff up with pride as he watched your eyes widen in awe. He lived for moments like this - showing off the wealth and status of being a Velaryon. And he especially loved seeing that look of wonder on your beautiful face, knowing that he was the one who put it there.
"She's a custom build," he explained, his voice thick with superiority. "Nobody else has a yacht like her."
As you both approached the bridge, Lucerys placed a possessive hand on the small of your back, guiding you aboard. The deck was polished to a mirror sheen, and the railings were made of intricately carved, polished wood.
"Welcome aboard," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk as he led you towards the salon. Inside, the space was even more breathtaking - all rich, plush fabrics, gleaming woods, and state-of-the-art technology. A grand staircase swept up to the upper deck, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered stunning views of the surrounding sea.
"This is... incredible," you breathed, taking in the sight before you.
Lucerys grinned at your reaction, looking immensely pleased with himself. "I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice low and smooth.
But what caught your eye was the master suite at the back of the boat. The king-sized bed dominated the space, dressed in crisp white linens and a mountain of pillows. You could picture Lucerys sprawled out on that bed, his dark hair against the white sheets, his brown eyes burning into yours as he beckoned you to join him...
Lucerys followed your gaze to the master suite, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he noticed where your attention had been drawn.
"Wait..." you exclaimed, a sudden realisation dawning on you. Your gaze darted around the area. A frown creased your brow as you looked up at Lucerys, disbelief written across your features. Did he honestly expect you to share the same bed with him, just like that? The very idea sparked a whirlwind of bewilderment and desire within you.
Lucerys leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, his grin widening at your expression. “Something wrong, princess?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence.
You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, gesturing toward the bed. “This... this cannot be the sleeping arrangement.”
He shrugged, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s the only room with a bed. Unless you’d prefer to curl up on the carpet, this is your best option.”
Your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to find the words. “My best option? Are you out of your mind? We can't just sleep next to each other.”
“Oh, we can,” he said, stepping closer, his grin turning downright devilish. “The question is whether you’ll manage to get through the night without tossing me overboard.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you tried to ignore the mental image his words conjured—Lucerys beside you, his warm, solid presence just inches away. You folded your arms across your chest, raising an eyebrow in defiance. “I’m serious, Lucerys.”
He stepped closer, his voice softening, though his teasing edge remained. “Look, you're sleeping next to me, princess,” he said, gaze locking onto yours. “We’ve got work to do, and we’ll both need sleep to keep the boat running. So unless you want to start hallucinating from exhaustion, I suggest you suck it up and deal with it.”
You hated how logical he sounded, even when he was infuriating. “Fine,” you said through gritted teeth. “But we’re drawing a line. A big, imaginary one, right down the middle of the bed. You stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine.”
Lucerys raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. “You’re seriously suggesting a pillow wall?”
“Exactly,” you said, grabbing a few pillows from the bed and piling them in the centre like a makeshift barricade. “Cross this line, Velaryon, and I swear—”
“You’ll what?” he interrupted, his voice dropping just enough to make your breath hitch. “Hit me with another pillow? I’m trembling.”
You scowled, ignoring the heat in your cheeks as you shoved the last pillow into place. “Just stay on your side,” you snapped, turning away to unpack your things.
Lucerys watched as you busied yourself with unpacking, a smirk still playing on his lips. He couldn't help but chuckle softly at your huffiness, finding your irritation adorable. As you bent over to put your bags away, he let his gaze linger on the curve of your ass, remembering how he had imagined gripping and squeezing it just moments before.
You straightened up and turned to face him, catching him staring. Lucerys quickly looked away, trying to hide his smug grin. "Is there something on your mind?" you asked sarcastically, folding your arms.
Lucerys shrugged, still smirking. "No, nothing at all," he lied smoothly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I was just thinking about how comfortable that bed looks. I might take a little nap."
With that, he sauntered over to the bed and flung himself onto it, stretching out languidly. He made sure to take up more than his half of the bed to rile you up. Lucerys closed his eyes and pretended to doze off, a small smile on his face as he listened to you moving about the room.
Despite his feigned sleep, Lucerys couldn't stop his mind from wandering to inappropriate places. Lucerys shifted slightly, feeling his cock starting to harden at the thought of burying himself deep inside you. He bit back a groan, trying to will away the unwanted arousal.
Lucerys forced himself to focus on something else, anything else. He was in deep trouble, and he didn't know how he would get through the next few days without losing control.
You glanced at the clock, noting it was only 10 AM. You smirked as you snatched a pillow from the bed, throwing it at Lucerys' prone form. "Wake up, sleepyhead," you called out teasingly, "We have a schedule. The weather's perfect for setting sail."
Lucerys startled, his eyes flying open to meet yours. You couldn't help but feel a rush as his gaze raked over your body.
You turned and sauntered onto the deck, the warm sun and salty air enveloping you. You tilted your face to the sky, letting the sun kiss your skin.
You knew Lucerys was probably watching you, and you could feel his eyes burning into your back. A secret smile played at the corners of your lips as you walked to the railing, looking out at the blue waters stretching before you. The yacht gently rocked with the waves.
Lucerys followed you onto the deck, his gaze locked onto your retreating form. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your hair dancing in the breeze.
As he approached you, he noticed how the wind had made your sundress flutter, giving him a tempting peek at your smooth, toned thighs. He swallowed hard as he imagined running his hands along your legs, inching higher and higher until he reached the heat between your thighs.
Lucerys stepped beside you, leaning against the railing and mimicking your pose. He could smell the salt and sunscreen on your skin, a combination that made his head spin. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice low and smooth.
You glanced over at him. "It is," you replied, turning your gaze back out to the horizon. "We should head out now. We have a schedule to upkeep."
Lucerys nodded, his eyes still lingering on your profile. "You're right," he agreed, straightening up and heading towards the bridge. "I'll just go set up everything in. the cockpit."
"I'm trusting you with my life here," you teased, flashing him a playful grin. "Don't screw this up."
His smirk widened at your words. "Don't worry, princess. I know exactly what I'm doing," he said, his voice dripping with arrogant confidence.
Rolling your eyes, you reminded him of your schedule. "We must be at the next marina by 2 AM at the latest. Don't you dare make us late."
Lucerys just laughed as he turned to head towards the bridge, leaving you alone on the deck. You watched him go, admiring the way his hair fell across his forehead.
Shaking your head, you returned to the berth, setting your clothes and the snacks I had brought in your bag. You popped a seasickness pill, hoping it would be enough to keep your stomach settled on the long journey ahead. The last thing you needed was to spend the entire trip with your head in the toilet.
Taking a deep breath, you slipped a sheer swimsuit cover-up on. You knew it would drive Lucerys crazy, but you couldn't help yourself. It was hot and sunny, and you would not sweat the entirety of the day.
Lucerys couldn't help but let his gaze linger on your figure as you made your way towards the cabin, admiring how your swimsuit was visible from under the sheer fabric. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you.
Lucerys gulped, feeling his cock stir to life in his shorts. He could see every inch of your tanned skin on display, from your toned legs to the swell of your breasts. The way the fabric of your swimsuit hugged your ass.
He forced himself to look away and focus on preparing the yacht for departure. Lucerys double-checked the navigation system to ensure it was in good working order.
As he was about to head out, he paused, glancing back at you. You looked like a goddess, and he felt his heart race just looking at you.
He imagined pushing the fabric to the side and exposing your tits to the sun and his hungry gaze. His cock was rock hard now, tenting obscenely in his shorts. He palmed himself through the fabric, groaning softly as he thought about burying his face between your tits.
Lucerys knew he couldn't keep thinking like this. He needed to focus on piloting the boat, not on fucking you senseless. But the way your bottoms rode up between your legs made it hard for him to concentrate.
Taking a deep breath, Lucerys rubbed his bulge a final time before you made your way next to him.
You glanced at Lucerys, biting your lower lip nervously as you sat beside him. You could feel his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve accentuated by the thin fabric of your swimsuit and coverup.
"I, um, hope you don't mind," you stammered, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you tugged at the hem of your coverup. "It's just so hot out and I wanted to be comfortable. I hope that's okay..." Your voice trailed off, and you looked down, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.
You couldn't help but squirm a little in your seat as you felt his eyes lingering on your body. The way he was looking at you made you feel both excited and apprehensive at the same time.
Trying to change the subject, you cleared your throat and nodded towards the GPS screen. "Have you set up the navigation yet? We should start heading to the next port soon." You kept your tone casual, but there was an undercurrent of tension in your words.
It was an ongoing game of push and pull between you. From heated glances and shy smiles to flirtatious banter aimed at provoking one another, it was driving you crazy. You couldn't help but wonder: Was it having the same effect on him?
Lucerys's gaze flicked away from your body and back to the GPS screen as you spoke. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure and focus on the task. "Don't worry about it," he said, his voice slightly strained. "You look... nice." He caught himself before he said 'hot', not wanting to risk making you even more uncomfortable.
"Yeah, navigation is all set," Lucerys replied gruffly, grateful for the change of subject. He pointed to the screen, highlighting the route they needed to take. "We'll sail for about 8 hours before reaching the next marina. We have already planned the course and I have checked the weather forecast."
As he spoke, Lucerys couldn't help but let his eyes wander back to your exposed skin. He imagined sliding his hands over your waist, feeling the dip of your hips as he pulled you closer.
"So, besides teasing the hell out of me, what do you have planned for the journey?" he asked, his tone coming out more flirtatious than he intended.
He smirked at you, leaning back in his seat and stretching his arms behind his head. This caused his t-shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a strip of his toned stomach.
You glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your glossy lips. "I was actually wondering if you could show me how to steer the boat," you said, arching one brow. "Just in case you get tired and I don't accidentally throw us off course," you added with a teasing lilt to your voice.
As you spoke, you leaned forward slightly, giving him an enticing view of your chest.
"I know this is expensive equipment and everything, but I'm a quick learner. I promise," you continued. "Besides, it might be fun to take control... for a change," you sighed, letting the double meaning of your words hang in the air between you.
Lucerys's gaze lingered on your breasts for a moment longer before snapping back to your face. He felt his breath hitch as you leaned forward, your tits just inches from his face.
"You want to steer the boat?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I mean, I'm not sure if that's the best idea. This is a complex vessel, requiring a lot of skill to navigate properly."
He tried to think logically, but you were making it hard to do so. And even though he might not admit it, he did think you were smart and capable of steering the yacht.
"Alright, princess, I'll show you," he said, slightly rough. He could feel his mind reeling at the thought of you taking control, of you directing the boat - and perhaps directing him.
He stood up, gesturing for you to take his seat. As you brushed past him, he caught a whiff of your scent. It made his head spin and his cock throb, squeezing his eyes shut.
Lucerys watched as you settled into the captain's chair, your legs spread slightly apart. He imagined kneeling between them and burying his face inside your wet, tight cunt.
Shaking his head, Lucerys took your hand in his, guiding it to the wheel. "Okay, princess, here's what you need to do..." he said, his voice low and smooth. "Keep the boat steady and straight, just like this."
As you sat in his seat, Lucerys reached out to place your hand on the wheel, his fingers brushing against yours. He guides your hand to grip the wheel properly, his breath catching slightly at the contact.
"Okay, so first thing's first - you always want to keep your eyes on the horizon," he instructed, leaning in closer to point at the distant line where the sea met the sky. As he did, his chest pressed lightly against your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear.
"And your grip should be firm but not too tight," he continued, his voice lowering to a murmur. "You have to be in control, but not so much that you're fighting the boat's natural movement."
"Just like that," he purred, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Keep it steady, princess. Don't let anything distract you from the task at hand."
Your heart raced as the boat cut through the glistening waves, the salt spray misting your skin. You gripped the polished wood wheel tightly, your knuckles white, as you stared straight ahead at the horizon. The sun glared brightly, reflecting off the blue sea. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your focus.
A shiver ran down your spine as you felt Lucerys' strong hands cover yours, guiding the wheel. His touch was electric, sending tingles up your arms and straight to your chest. You had to bite your lip to stifle a moan that threatened to escape.
"Am I doing good?" You asked softly, a tremor in your voice. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you waited for his response, praying he couldn't hear it. You didn't dare look at him, afraid you would lose control. Both control of the boat and control of yourself in his presence. The heat of his body against your back was intoxicating. You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves.
Your hair whipped around your face in the breeze, bits sticking to your gloss. At this moment, all you cared about was impressing him, pleasing him. Making him proud.
You prayed he didn't notice how flushed and flustered you felt, how desperately you wanted to lean into his touch. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry.
"Please, just tell me I'm doing okay," you breathed out, your voice barely audible over the roar of the engine and the crashing waves. You needed his approval and craved his validation.
Lucerys leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You're doing amazing, princess," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "Keep your eyes on the horizon and your grip steady. You've got this."
His hands remained covering yours on the wheel, his fingers intertwining with yours. You could feel the rough calluses on his fingertips.
Lucerys's chest pressed against your back as he leaned over you, his breath hot on your neck. "Just like that," he purred, sending shivers down your spine. "You're a natural at this."
Despite the heat of the sun and the breeze off the ocean, you felt a different kind of warmth spreading through you at his praise. Your heart raced as you tried to focus on the horizon. But it was hard to concentrate on anything else with Lucerys's strong body pressed against yours.
"Lucerys, I..." you started to say, but your words trailed off as you lost yourself in his closeness. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips brush against your neck, barely a touch but enough to set your skin on fire.
Lucerys seemed to sense your reaction, and he pulled back slightly, giving you some space. "You're doing great," he said, his voice a little rougher than before. "Just keep going like this, and we'll be at the next port in no time. Just follow the route on the screen."
Lucerys couldn't take his eyes off you as you confidently steered the boat, your hair whipping around your face and your skin glistening in the sun. The way you handled the wheel with such ease was incredibly sexy, and he felt his cock twitching again in his shorts as he watched you.
He knew he needed to get ahold of himself before he did something rash. Clearing his throat, Lucerys excused himself. "I'll be right back," he said gruffly, stepping away from the captain's chair.
"Yeah... Are you okay?" you asked him, slightly concerned for his sudden need to leave. All you received in reply was a curt nod as you watched him walk toward the bathroom.
Lucerys quickly walked to the lavatory, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was alone, he let out a low groan, palming his aching cock through his shorts. He couldn't believe how turned on he was, how desperate he was to fuck you right then and there.
Lucerys unzipped his fly, freeing his thick, hard cock. It sprang up, already leaking pre-cum and throbbing with need, making him whimper. He wrapped a hand around it, stroking it slowly as he thought about burying it inside you.
Lucerys gripped his cock tighter, pumping it faster as he imagined you bent over the captain's chair, your bottoms pushed aside as he rammed his thick shaft deep into your dripping pussy. The image of your ass bouncing against his hips as he fucked you hard and fast, making lewd slapping sounds echoing through the cabin.
Lucerys stroked his cock faster, the lewd sounds of his hand pumping his shaft filling the small bathroom. He gritted his teeth as he pictured you spread out before him, your top ripped off to expose your perfect tits, your nipple stiff and begging for his mouth.
"Fuck..." he whined, squeezing his dick tighter as he imagined licking and sucking at your nipple, rolling it between his teeth and tugging on it. He wanted to mark your soft flesh, to leave his claiming bites all over your body.
Lucerys continued to stroke his aching cock faster, panting softly as he lost himself in his lustful fantasies of you. He imagined you looking back at him over your shoulder with those piercing, lustful eyes as he pounded into you from behind, your tits bouncing with each powerful thrust of his hips.
He could almost hear your needy moans and cries of pleasure as he fucked you harder and faster, his balls slapping against your clit. His hand moved like a blur on his shaft, squeezing and pumping, chasing the release he so desperately craved.
"Shit, fuck..." Lucerys grunted under his breath, feeling his orgasm fast approaching. His cock throbbed and pulsed in his grip as he imagined filling your tight cunt with his hot, thick seed. He wanted to pump you full of his cum, to watch it leak out of your stretched, fucked-out hole as he pulled out.
With a final, harsh thrust of his hips, Lucerys came undone. Thick, creamy ropes of cum erupted from his cock, splattering against the bathroom wall and floor as he rode out the intense waves of his climax. He gripped the edge of the sink tightly, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to stay silent, not wanting to alert you to his lewd activities, slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath as he came down from his intense orgasm.
After a few intense moments, Lucerys finally caught his breath. He grabbed some tissue paper to clean up the mess he had made, wiping his softening cock and throwing the soiled paper in the toilet before flushing it away.
Lucerys took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure before stepping out of the bathroom and making his way back to the main cabin.
He couldn't help but feel a rush of desire and shame as he watched you, remembering the fantasies that had just played out in his mind. He knew he needed to get ahold of himself before he did something rash.
You glanced over at Lucerys, your brow arched in concern as you took in his dishevelled appearance. "You alright? You rushed off pretty suddenly," you teased, your voice laced with playful worry. "Don't tell me the big, brave captain is getting seasick?" You smirked, your eyes sparkling with mischief as they raked over his wind-tossed hair and flushed cheeks.
Your hands still gripped the wheel, keeping the boat on course as you studied Lucerys intently. You couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought that maybe, just maybe, his sudden disappearance and dishevelled state had something to do with you. The way he looked at you, with those dark, hungry eyes, made your heart race and your skin prickle with goosebumps.
"Seriously though, are you okay?" You asked, your tone softening with genuine concern as you searched his face for any sign of illness or distress. "We're in the middle of the ocean, and I don't fancy swimming back to shore if something happens to you," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
As you spoke, you couldn't help but let your gaze linger on his broad shoulders and muscular arms, remembering the feeling of his hands covering yours on the wheel. You swallowed hard, pushing down the flutter of nerves and excitement in your chest.
"Just say the word if you need a break," you added, your voice a little breathless. "I can handle the helm for a while longer." You flashed him a warm, encouraging smile, eager to ensure he was all right and ready to continue our journey together.
Lucerys felt his cheeks flush even redder at your teasing question, realising that his sudden disappearance must have seemed suspicious. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play off his apparent flustered state.
"No, no, I'm fine," he said, forcing a laugh. "Just needed a moment. Too much sun, I guess." He shrugged, hoping that excuse would suffice. He couldn't exactly tell you the real reason - that he had snuck off to jerk off in the bathroom because he was so fucking turned on by you.
Lucerys's gaze drifted down your body, taking in the tantalizing peek of your cleavage that was on display thanks to your leaned-forward position. He had to force himself to look away before he lost control and pounced on you right then and there.
"Thanks for the concern though," he said, his voice strained. "I really do appreciate you taking the helm. It's impressive, seeing you handle the wheel with such confidence." His eyes flicked back to your face, his expression softening with what almost looked like admiration.
Lucerys knew he needed to pull himself together, to act like the seasoned sailor and not a horny teenage boy. "Just keep going like this, princess," he instructed, his voice low and smooth. "Nice and steady. You're a natural at this."
"This looks good on you," Lucerys murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you captaining the boat with such confidence... fuck, it's kind of sexy." He swallowed hard, realising he had spoken his thoughts out loud.
Lucerys quickly stepped back, clearing his throat. "Uh, I mean... you look good doing anything," he corrected, trying to backtrack. "But I like seeing you in your element like this."
He knew he was treading on thin ice, saying things that flirted with the line of propriety. But he couldn't help himself when it came to you. Every moment in your presence felt charged with a crackling energy, an electricity that made his skin tingle.
You whipped around as you stared at him in disbelief. "Did I hear that right? Did you just call me... sexy?" You asked, your voice pitching up in an incredulous giggle.
Lucerys felt his cheeks burn even hotter at your unbelieving reaction to his slip of the tongue. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like a teenager again instead of a man.
"Don't read too much into it," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "It was just a slip of the tongue." He tried to brush it off, but the way he avoided your gaze made it clear he was lying.
Lucerys shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the lustful thoughts. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said, his voice a little strained. "I just... I think you're beautiful. But I shouldn't have said it out loud like that." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away in embarrassment.
Despite his flustered state, he couldn't deny the way his cock hardened in his shorts at the thought of grabbing your tits, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. He wanted to dip his head down and take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking until it hardened under his tongue.
"Anyway, just focus on steering the boat," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "The faster we get to the next port, the faster we can... get some rest." The last two words came out a little strangled, betraying the true meaning behind them - that he desperately wanted to fuck your brains out.
You reluctantly stepped away from the wheel, your arms aching from gripping it for so long. "Alright... you can take over," you said, your voice a bit strained as you stretched your arms above your head, trying to work out the kinks. "My arms are starting to cramp up."
As you moved aside, you couldn't help but glance at Lucerys, a hint of shyness in your eyes. You fidgeted with the hem of your short coverup, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.
"I can keep you company though if you want," you offered awkwardly, your cheeks flushing slightly as you switched your gaze between him and the floor.
Lucerys felt his cheeks burn even hotter at your shy offer, realizing you must have noticed his flustered state. He quickly shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
"No, that's okay," he said, trying to sound casual even as his voice came out a little strained. "I've got this. I'm used to navigating on my own, with or without... company."
Lucerys took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. "Why don't you go and... relax for a bit?" he suggested, gesturing vaguely towards the cabin. "You've earned a break after steering us this far."
He forced a smile, hoping it would put you at ease even as he internally cursed himself for his evident awkwardness. He knew he needed to get a grip before saying or doing something he would regret.
Lucerys couldn't help but let his gaze linger on your body as you stretched, your cover-up riding up to expose a strip of your midriff. He swallowed hard, his mouth going dry at the glimpse of skin. Fuck, you were gorgeous, and he was quickly losing his ability to think straight around you.
"I'm fine, really," he said, his voice rougher than he intended.
Lucerys knew he needed to regain his composure before he acted impulsively, like pulling you into his arms and kissing you until you were both breathless. He had to remember his place, even though every fibre of his being screamed at him to cross the line and take what he desired.
Instead, he approached the wheel and gripped it firmly as he gazed at the horizon, trying to concentrate on anything other than the alluring sight of you. "I'll call you if I need anything," he promised, his tone slightly strained.
You hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face as you searched Lucerys's expression for any hint of what you might have done wrong. "Okay..." you replied softly, a slight frown tugging at your lips.
Puzzled and slightly hurt by his sudden dismissal, you turned and wandered slowly towards the bedroom, your bare feet padding softly on the polished wooden floor. You could feel his gaze on your back, burning into your skin as you retreated.
Lucerys let out a low groan as he watched you walk away, his eyes glued to the mesmerizing sway of your hips and the tantalizing peek of skin. He hated feeling like he had to push you away, but he knew it was for the best. He couldn't trust himself not to act on his basest instincts around you.
As he gripped the wheel tighter, he took a deep breath, trying to will away the throbbing ache in his cock. It was hard to focus on anything but the urge to march into that bedroom and take what he wanted from you.
Reaching the bedroom, you climbed onto the plush bed, the silky sheets cool against your sun-warmed skin. You laid back, staring up at the ceiling.
As you lay there, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you, the easy company and flirtation of before replaced by a sudden tension. Did you say something wrong? Did you offend him? The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably.
However, your contemplation was interrupted by a loud ding from your phone.
"Heyyy! How's the trip, beautiful?"
A text from Addam. You giggled as you read his message, blushing like a schoolgirl at the endearment. At least someone still found you charming and desirable.
"Heyy! The trip is going well atm. Lucerys has been surprisingly okay... so far"
You attached a selfie you had taken earlier, showcasing your round ass in the skimpy swimsuit as you posed provocatively in the mirror. You knew he wouldn't mind seeing that.
Addam's eyes widened as he saw the seductive selfie you had sent, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight of your gorgeous ass barely contained by the scanty swimsuit. He licked his lips hungrily, feeling his cock stiffen in his pants as he drank in every delectable inch of your curves.
"Fuck, you look good enough to eat," he typed back, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to focus on the screen. "I wish I was there with you right now, bending you over and fucking that pretty ass until you screamed."
Addam's cock throbbed insistently in his pants as he stared at the photo, his mind racing with filthy thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to your sexy body. He palmed himself through his slacks, biting back a groan.
"God, I want to grab two big handfuls of that perfect ass and spread your cheeks apart, exposing your tight little holes. I bet that hot cunt of yours is dripping wet right now, desperate to be filled by a thick, hard cock," he typed back, his breath coming faster as he imagined pinning you down and pounding into you without mercy.
Addam knew he shouldn't be saying vulgar things, but he couldn't help himself. The sight of your gorgeous curves consistently reduced him to a lust-crazed beast. "I want to fuck you so hard, right there on that bed. I bet Lucerys is just as turned on by you as I am - has he tried anything yet? I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't resist your charms any longer."
He hit send, hoping you would understand the intensity of his desire, even as part of him felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of you with Lucerys.
You gasped aloud as you read Addam's scandalously suggestive message, your cheeks flushing a deep pink. You couldn't believe he had actually written such vulgar words! The Addam you knew was always such a perfect gentleman. Had your trip with Lucerys brought out a hidden, carnal side of him?
With trembling fingers, you rapidly typed a teasing reply, hoping to stoke his jealousy and desire.
"You'd be happy to know he hasn't tried anything... yet. But I don't know how long he could resist me. You should have used your chance when you had one ;)"
You hit send before you lost your nerve, biting your lip to stifle a giddy giggle. The knowledge that you had Addam worked up into such a frenzy sent thrills of excitement racing through your veins. You knew you shouldn't lead him on like this, but you couldn't help yourself. You were feeling bold and you craved the attention.
You felt a damp patch appearing on the crotch of your bottoms, and you shivered. Addam's crude words had gotten you embarrassingly aroused. You squirmed on the bed, squeezing your thighs together as you imagined Lucerys's hands instead, groping your ass just like Addam had described. The thought of him pinning you down and fucking you hard sent a rush of wetness flooding your core.
You nervously glanced at the time, realizing you still had hours left until you reached the pier. Suddenly, being cooped up in the bedroom seemed far too dull. You had to find a way to pass the time.
Addam's heart raced as he read your teasing reply, his cock throbbing almost painfully in his slacks at the thought of Lucerys resisting the urge to fuck you senseless. He couldn't blame the guy - if he were there with you, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back from pinning you down and burying his face between your thighs, lapping at your dripping cunt until you screamed.
"Fuck, you can't say shit like that and expect me not to go crazy," he typed back, his fingers flying over the keys. "If I was there, I would have already had you spread open and begging for cock, you teasing minx. I bet that pretty little pussy is fucking soaked right now, isn't it? Desperate to be filled and stretched by a big, hard dick?"
He paused, trying to collect himself before continuing. "I should have never let you go on this trip. I should be the one pinning you down and pounding into your needy cunt until you're screaming my name. Instead, I'm stuck here, achingly hard and leaking just from thinking about Lucerys seeing you in that sexy little swimsuit."
Addam's heart pounded as he hit send, hoping his message would stoke the flames of your arousal. He desperately wished he could be there with you right now, worshipping every inch of your glorious body until you were writhing and begging for his cock. But for now, he could only keep talking dirty to you, imagining you getting wetter and hotter with each filthy word.
You whimpered aloud as you read Addam's shamefully lewd messages, your core clenching with need. "Fuck," you gasped, your hand drifting down to cup your aching sex through the damp fabric of your bottoms. You bucked your hips desperately, trying in vain to find some relief from the throbbing ache between your thighs.
"Addam, you can't tease me like this! :(" You sent back, your fingers trembling as you typed out a pouty message. His vulgar words had you dripping wet, but it was Lucerys's touch you craved. You were trapped on this damn boat with him for a week, and you had no way to relieve the constant, gnawing desire burning through your veins.
You squirmed on the bed, squeezing your legs together as you imagined Lucerys finally snapping and pinning you down, yanking your swimsuit to the side, and sinking his hard cock deep into your soaked, needy cunt. The thought made you moan, your fingers pressing harder against your cloth-covered slit.
But alas, it was just your fingers, not Lucerys's, bringing you closer to the edge. You were stuck in this cabin, at the mercy of your lewd fantasies and a frustrating lack of satisfaction. You just prayed you could make it through the rest of this trip without completely losing your mind.
Addam's eyes widened as he read your desperate plea. He couldn't stand the thought of you suffering from such an intense, unfulfilled desire.
He paused, trying to find the right words to soothe you even as his own cock throbbed insistently, aching to provide the relief you craved.
"If it gets too bad, baby, don't hesitate to take matters into your own hands," he messaged, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I want you to touch yourself for me, to imagine it's my fingers sinking deep into your hungry little holes as I finger fuck your cunt until you're dripping and begging for more."
Addam's heart raced as he typed out his scandalously suggestive message, his cock pulsing with need as he imagined you touching yourself for his viewing pleasure. He knew it was wrong to encourage such wanton behaviour, especially since you were stuck on a boat with his rival, but he couldn't help himself.
"Fuck," you typed, sinking your fingers deep into your soaked, needy cunt as his filthy words sent shocks of pleasure racing through you. "It feels so fucking good, but I can't help imagining it's your big, thick cock stretching me open instead."
You bucked your hips, plunging your fingers in and out of your dripping sex as you pictured him and Lucerys taking turns fucking you senseless. The mental image of the two tall, handsome men using you like a little toy, their hard cocks claiming your hungry holes over and over, made you throb with desire.
"Mmm, I'm so fucking wet thinking about you and Lucerys taking turns pounding into me until I'm a brainless, cock-drunk mess," you wrote. "Please Addam, I need your touch so badly. I wish it was your fingers sinking into my tight little pussy right now."
Addam groaned as he read your passionate, erotic message, his cock jerking in his pants as he imagined sinking his fingers deep into your dripping, needy cunt. He couldn't believe how brazenly you spoke of your fantasies involving both him and his competitor. It was so wrong, but it only made him want you more.
He paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he typed out his following message. "You like the idea of Lucerys and I taking turns pounding into your tight little holes, don't you? Of us using your sexy body for our pleasure, fucking you senseless until you're nothing but a brainless, cock-drunk slut?"
He paused, his cock leaking pre-cum into his boxers as he imagined the delicious sight of your slick walls gripping his cock hungrily. He started palming himself slowly over his slacks, groaning at the friction.
You gasped softly, sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your soaked, aching sex. Your hips bucked instinctively, as you plunged them in and out, coating them with your dripping arousal. The obscene wet sounds of your fingers pumping into your hungry cunt filled your ears, making you flush with humiliation and lust.
"Fuck, I'm so fucking wet," you panted silently, trying to muffle your desperate whimpers. You couldn't let Lucerys hear you touching yourself like this, couldn't let him know how you were shamelessly fucking yourself on his boat.
Not that it mattered - the expensive silk sheets beneath you were already damp with your juices, a tangible testament to your shameful need.
"Please," you silently begged, even as a part of you felt guilty for lusting after Lucerys while toying with Addam. Tossing the phone to the side to focus on bringing yourself to a peak.
As Lucerys steered the yacht towards the setting sun, he couldn't help but hear strange noises coming from the berth. Mewling and soft whines stemming from behind the bedroom door.
Curiosity overcoming him, Lucerys quietly approached the bedroom door, pressing his ear against it to listen more closely. The sounds of your soft moans and the slick, wet noises of fingers plunging into a dripping cunt filled his ears, making his cock immediately stiffen in his pants. He swallowed back a groan as he realized it was you touching yourself.
Lucerys stumbled back from the door, his face flushing bright red as he processed the incredibly erotic sounds coming from within the bedroom. He couldn't believe his ears - was that really you, moaning and panting so desperately as you fingered your needy little cunt? You had always turned down his subtle advances yet now you were fucking yourself on your shared bed?
His cock started to slowly harden in his pants as he listened to the obscene wet sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of your soaked folds. He palmed roughly through his jeans, biting back a groan at the delicious friction.
Lucerys knew he should walk away, and give you privacy and space, but he found himself unable to tear himself away from the door. He was utterly transfixed, his body burning with lust as he listened to you pleasure yourself so wantonly.
Panting heavily, you collapsed back onto the damp silk sheets, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your intense climax. "Oh fuck," you gasped out loud, completely oblivious to the fact that Lucerys had been listening in.
Your hair was splayed out messily around your head, clinging to your flushed face as you tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and your skin was flushed and tingling all over. The wet spot on the sheets beneath your ass had grown larger, a testament to just how desperately aroused and worked up you had been.
Lucerys closed his eyes and groaned under his breath as he heard you cum, whining loudly. He apprehensively staggered away from the door, breathing heavily and unevenly. He knew there was no way you didn't hear that groan he'd let out.
He left quickly before you could find out that he had heard you. Lucerys groaned softly as he staggered back down the hallway, adjusting his pants to try to hide the massive erection that was now straining against the fabric. He knew he should have walked away when he realised what was happening behind that door. But the sounds of your desperate moans and the slick, wet noises of you pleasuring yourself had been too much for him to resist.
He stumbled into the little galley kitchen, pouring a glass of cold water. He downed it in one long gulp, hoping it would take the edge off the fierce lust burning through his veins. But it was no use.
Lucerys knew he couldn't go back out there like this, not with his cock this fucking hard and aching for your touch. He needed to calm down somehow.
Shaking his head he slowly made his way back to the wheel.
Lucerys groaned softly as he stepped back onto the deck, his cock still straining against his pants. He tried to focus on steering the boat, but his mind kept drifting back to the sound of your desperate moans.
Hopelessly trying to regain his composure, Lucerys gripped the wheel tightly as he stared out at the darkening horizon. The salty sea breeze washed over his flushed face, but it did little to cool the burning desire coursing through his veins. He couldn't stop from imagining the erotic image of you splayed out on the silk sheets, your hair tangled and skin glistening with sweat as you brought yourself to a climax.
Lucerys shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the lusty thoughts. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about you like this, especially after overhearing your display of self-pleasure. But fuck, the way you had moaned and whimpered, the obscene wet sounds of your fingers plunging into your dripping cunt... it had set his blood on fire.
He adjusted himself in his pants, trying to find a more comfortable position for his painfully hard cock. It was useless though, and he knew he would have to take matters into his own hands eventually. The question was, would he be able to resist the urge to storm back into that cabin and pin you down, sinking his aching shaft deep into your needy hole until you were screaming his name?
Lucerys swallowed thickly, trying to focus on the task at hand. They still had hours left until they reached the pier, and he knew he would have to keep it together. But fuck, it was going to be a long night with you just a few feet away, your scent still lingering in the air and your desperate moans echoing in his mind.
He took a deep breath, gripping the wheel tighter as he stared at the darkening sea. He had to get a grip, had to keep his lust in check. But deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped and took what he wanted - before he had you naked, wrists bound and legs spread wide as he fucked you into submission.
Slowly and hesitantly, you exited the bedroom, feeling bashful and flustered after your private activities. You quickly changed into a tight top and denim shorts, wanting a change of clothes after the intense session you just had. Your hair was still slightly dishevelled, and your eyes had a dreamy, faraway look as you approached Lucerys at the helm.
"Hey there," you said softly, a faint blush still colouring your cheeks as you glanced at him.
You bit your lip, feeling a twinge of embarrassment as you remembered how loudly you had moaned and whimpered while touching yourself. You hoped Lucerys hadn't overheard your display. The thought made your blush deepen.
"We should be at the pier in two hours, right?" You remarked, trying to change the subject to something more neutral. In truth, the boat suddenly felt a little too small and claustrophobic, especially with the sexual tension hanging heavily in the air between you. You needed fresh air and a distraction before you lost your mind from your constant desire for Lucerys's touch.
Lucerys tensed as you approached, his body still thrumming with lust. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain his composure before turning to face you with a strained smile. "Hey," he replied shortly, his voice slightly hoarse.
He could feel the sexual tension crackling between you, as thick and heavy as the humidity in the air. He knew you must have heard him groan, must have known he had been listening to you fuck yourself stupid on the bed. Lucerys clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the filthy words that wanted to spill from his lips.
He swallowed thickly, trying to push away the lustful thoughts that had been consuming his mind. "Yeah, about two more hours," he replied, slightly raspy.
He couldn't help but notice the way you blushed and bit your lip nervously. Did you know what you had done? Did you have any idea of the effect your wanton moans and the slick sounds of you fucking yourself had on him? Lucerys wondered.
He turned his gaze back to the horizon, watching the sun slowly sink below the waves. The sky was painted orange, pink, and red–casting a warm glow over the water. But even that breathtaking sight paled to the beauty of you standing beside him, still flushed and dishevelled from your private activities.
"It's a beautiful night," he said lamely, hating how awkward his voice sounded. He wanted to say so much more, to tell you how desperately he wanted to bend you over the railing and fuck you until you screamed, but he held his tongue.
Lucerys shifted his stance slightly, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on his painfully hard cock. Take a deep breath, Lucerys told himself, trying to calm down. He knew he had to keep it together, to act like a gentleman in front of his guest. But fuck, it was getting harder and harder to resist the temptation you presented.
You glanced at the stunning sunset, the vibrant oranges and pinks streaking across the sky, taking your breath away. It was absolutely gorgeous but not as breathtaking as the way Lucerys looked right now–his chiselled jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with hunger. You could feel the sexual tension rolling off him in waves, making your skin prickle.
"I thought I'd come to keep you company..." you said softly, dropping your gaze shyly. You perched yourself on the seat beside, clutching your phone tightly. It buzzed occasionally with messages from Addam, but you couldn't bring yourself to care right now. Not with the way Lucerys was looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body like a physical caress.
You crossed your legs, feeling the soft denim of your shorts stretch across your thighs. You could feel Lucerys's gaze lingering on your backside, and you had to resist the urge to squirm. Did he know what you had been doing just moments before? Could he hear the echoes of your desperate moans and the slick sounds of your dripping cunt? The thought made you blush, and you looked away, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.
You could still feel the lingering ache between your thighs, the throbbing emptiness that cried out to be filled. And god, you wanted him to be the one to do it. You wanted to feel his strong hands gripping your hips, his hard cock sinking deep into your tight heat as he fucked you hard and fast, just like you had imagined earlier. The thought alone made you clench around nothing.
"Thanks. I was already getting bored here," Lucerys said softly, voice low and slightly rough.
"Did you have a good rest?" He asked teasingly, hoping to get a reaction out of you, hinting at the desire coursing through his veins. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to know everything about you, even the most intimate details.
You tensed at Lucerys's question, feeling embarrassment wash over you. "A good rest?" You repeated, your voice coming out slightly breathless. "I, um. I guess you could say that," you mumbled, unable to meet his intense gaze.
"I just, um. I was talking with Addam for a bit. He texted me," you said lamely, trying to change the subject. You sat up straight, clutching your phone tightly like a lifeline. In truth, Addam's texts had only fuelled your lust, making you crave Lucerys's touch even more.
Lucerys quirked an eyebrow at your mention of Addam, a flicker of jealousy flashing in his eyes. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied your flushed face with a critical gaze. "Addam, huh? I see," he replied curtly, his tone sharp.
He couldn't help but wonder what had transpired between you, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. However, he kept his suspicions to himself, not wanting to accuse you of anything without solid proof. Instead, he changed the subject, hoping to lighten the mood. "Well, I'm glad you could join me out here. It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" he remarked, gesturing toward the stunning sunset painting the sky.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment. "Really?" You asked, surprised by his sudden change of heart. "Cause you sent me away when I offered to stay with you before," you pointed out, still unable to meet his intense gaze. You could feel his eyes boring into you.
Lucerys tensed at your comment, his jaw clenching as he fought back a surge of jealousy. He knew he had been a bit of an asshole before, pushing you away when you offered to stay with him. But he had been so fucking pent up and frustrated, desperate to keep his distance from your tempting body and the way it made him feel.
But now, with the way your cheeks were flushed and your eyes avoided his, he couldn't resist. "I know, and I'm sorry for that," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I just... I didn't want to make things awkward between us. But fuck, I want you here with me now," he whispered, more to himself.
"Tell me," he rasped, his voice low and rough with lust. "What were you really doing in there, sweetheart? Don't try to hide it from me. I heard every fucking sound, every desperate moan and whimper that spilt from your pretty little mouth."
You glared at Lucerys defiantly, your eyes flashing with indignation. "Oh please, don't flatter yourself," you said with a bitter laugh, rolling your eyes. "Just because I have needs doesn't mean I'm some slut. I'm not that easy."
You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a low, teasing him. "Maybe I just have a vivid imagination. Perhaps I was thinking about how good it would feel to have a real man's hands on me, making me come undone."
You couldn't admit that you had instead been thinking of him the whole time, opting for a little white lie. "Or maybe you're just jealous that Addam has the power to get me so worked up. You can't stand the thought of me wanting anyone but you, can you?"
Lucerys felt angry at your accusation, his eyes flashing with an intense, jealous fury he couldn't fully hide. But he quickly tried to reign in his temper, not wanting to let on just how much the thought of you wanting anyone else bothered him.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said shortly, his voice tight and strained. "I couldn't care less who you fuck yourself stupid thinking about. It's none of my business," he bit out, crossing his arms over his chest.
But even as he said it, Lucerys could feel the jealousy burning like acid in his stomach. The idea of you coming undone to someone else's touch, imagining Addam or anyone else bringing you to a screaming climax... it made him want to put his fist through the wall. But he refused to let you see how much it got under his skin.
Instead, he turned his gaze back to the horizon, watching the last rays of the sunset dip below the waves. "Besides, I thought you had better taste than to settle for a loser like Addam," he said coldly, unable to resist the jab. "Guess I was wrong."
You glare at Lucerys defiantly, your eyes flashing with resentment as you lean in close, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Fuck you, Lucerys!" You hiss, your voice shaking with anger and frustration. "You're the real loser here, you goddamn hypocrite! How dare you judge me for having needs when you were the one listening in on my private time like a fucking pervert? That's beyond messed up!"
Your cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, but this time it's from rage rather than arousal. You can't believe the nerve of this guy, toying with your mind like that and then having the nerve to accuse Addam of being the loser.
You are so pissed off that you're trembling slightly. You step closer to Lucerys, refusing to back down as you stare him down angrily and disdainfully.
"And another thing, you smug bastard," you continue, your voice dropping to a low, threatening purr. "I'll fantasize about whoever the hell I want, whenever the fuck I want. Got it, asshole?" You snap, your eyes boring into his with fierce intensity.
You can feel the anger radiating off you as you stand there, your heart pounding in your chest and your breath coming fast and hard. You won't let this jerk make you feel ashamed.
Lucerys felt a pang of guilt at your accusation, realizing he had indeed overstepped a serious boundary by listening in on your private moment. But despite his feelings of remorse, he couldn't deny the way your fierce anger and indignation only served to turn him on even more. The fire in your eyes, the fury that rolled off you in waves... fuck, it was intoxicating.
But he refused to back down, his pride and jealousy fueling his stubbornness. "Temper, temper," he taunted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the anger in his eyes. "I didn't realize you were so easily provoked, princess. Guess I hit a nerve, huh?" he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Lucerys had never been one for games, and he was tired of playing nice. He wanted to grab you by the hair and drag you off to his bed, fucking the attitude right out of you until you were a mewling, obedient mess.
He leaned in closer, invading your personal space as he stared down at you with a challenging glint in his purple eyes. "And you're right, I am a fucking hypocrite. I shouldn't have listened to your little solo session. But you can't blame a guy for being curious," he defended himself, his gaze dropping to your heaving chest before slowly trailing back to your flushed face.
"Curious?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his flimsy excuse. "More like a fucking creep, listening in on private shit. I don't care how rich and powerful you think you are, that's not normal," you snapped, jabbing your finger harder against his chest.
But even as you seethed with anger, you couldn't ignore the way your pulse raced at his proximity. Damn him for being so infuriatingly hot, even when he was acting like a manipulative asshole.
"So what? I'm supposed to just forget about it and be grateful you decided to grace me with your presence now." You spat bitterly, hating how breathy your voice sounded. "Newsflash, Your Highness - I don't give a fuck about your title or your money. You don't get to dictate who I fantasize about or what I do in my private time."
You crossed your arms over your chest as you glared at him mutinously. "You want to know why I was thinking about a real man's touch?" You hissed. "Because I'm fucking tired of boys who are too scared to go for what they really want. Guess that's why you still rely on your daddy's cash and status to get you laid, huh?"
It was a low blow, but you were beyond caring.
Lucerys froze for half a second, his smirk faltering as your words hit him like a slap. His brown eyes darkened, the teasing glint replaced by something sharper, something that burned. He leaned forward, stepping into your space, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.
“You want to talk about going for what you really want?” he said, his voice low and dangerous, carrying an edge that sent a shiver down your spine. “Fine. Let’s talk about it.”
His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. The playful arrogance was gone, replaced by raw intensity. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? Daddy’s cash, daddy’s status, the perfect little heir who’s too scared to make a move.” He let out a low, humourless laugh, shaking his head. “But here’s the thing, princess: I don’t need anyone’s help to get what I want.”
His voice dropped, barely above a whisper now, and the air between you felt charged, electric. “And if you really think I’m too scared to go for it, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”
His gaze flickered down to your lips, lingering for the briefest of moments before snapping back to your eyes. “So tell me,” he continued, his tone equal parts challenge and provocation, “if I’m just a boy hiding behind his daddy’s money, what does that make you? The girl who can’t stop thinking about him?”
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, as his words hung in the air. He didn’t move, didn’t back away, waiting for your response like a predator waiting to strike. There was no smirk this time, no playful banter. Just Lucerys, raw and unfiltered, daring you to challenge him.
Your jaw tightened, and you refused to step back, even though his proximity made your pulse hammer in your ears. The way he looked at you, like he was peeling back every layer and exposing something raw and vulnerable, made your skin prickle with defiance. If he thought he could rattle you, he had another thing coming.
"Thinking about you?” you scoffed, your voice sharp and biting. “Don’t flatter yourself, Velaryon. You might like to believe you’re the centre of the universe but trust me, you’re barely a passing thought.” You took a step closer, your chin tilting up in challenge. “And if you think I’m the one who can’t stop thinking about someone, maybe you should look in the mirror.”
His lips parted, but you didn’t let him speak, pressing on with a venomous smirk. “What’s wrong, Lucerys? Mad that someone finally called you out? I can’t help it if your fragile ego can't handle the truth. You act so untouchable, as nothing fazes you, but here you are, standing so close it’s like you’re trying to prove something. So what is it? What are you trying so hard to convince me of?”
You let your words sink in, watching the flicker of something in his eyes—anger, desire, or maybe both. “Face it, Velaryon,” you said, your voice softening but losing none of its sharpness. “You don’t intimidate me, and you never will.” You leaned in just enough for him to feel the weight of your defiance, your voice dropping to a whisper. “So go ahead. Keep talking about what you want. But don’t act surprised when you find out you’ll never have it.”
You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to keep your breathing steady as Lucerys stared you down, his smug, infuriating smirk firmly in place. That smirk—God, it made you want to scream, to shove him off the boat, to—
“Are you done?” he drawled, tilting his head as if you were an amusing sideshow act. “Or are you planning to stomp your feet like a spoiled little brat some more?”
“Brat?” you spat, your voice rising despite yourself. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who’s never worked a day in his life! You think you’re so superior, but underneath all that charm, you’re just another spoiled, overgrown man-child!”
His smirk fell, just for a second, but it was enough to give you a flicker of satisfaction.
“Say what you want about me,” he said, stepping closer, his tone low and deliberate. “But at least I’m honest about who I am. You, on the other hand? You’re so busy trying to act like you don’t care, like you’re above it all, but it’s bullshit. You care. More than you want to admit.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “What the hell are you even talking about?”
Lucerys leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Oh, come on. You can’t seriously think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. Like you’re trying to figure out whether you hate me or…” His eyes flicked to your lips, just for a heartbeat, before snapping back to yours. “Or something else entirely.”
Your heart thundered in your chest, the heat of his words wrapping around you like a vice. You opened your mouth to fire back, to tear him down with the sharpest words you could muster—but what came out instead made your blood run cold.
“I was actually starting to like you, but clearly, that was a mistake.”
The words tumbled out before you could stop them, hanging between you like an admission of guilt. Your stomach dropped, dread coiling in your gut as you saw the shift in Lucerys’ expression.
His brows shot up, and for the first time since you’d met him, he seemed genuinely taken aback. But the surprise didn’tlast long. It melted away, replaced by something darker, something more serious that made the space between you feel suddenly, impossibly small.
“Starting to like me?” he repeated, his voice low and rough, like he was testing the words, tasting them on his tongue. “Funny, because I haven’t just liked you. I’ve been losing my goddamn mind over you since day one.”
You blinked, your breath hitching as the confession slammed into you with the force of a wave. “What—”
“I’m serious,” he interrupted, his tone fierce, desperate. He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “You drive me insane. Every word out of your mouth, every look, every time you roll those pretty eyes at me—it’s like you’re in my head, and I can’t get you out. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
His fingers tightened slightly, grounding you as your mind spun. “And you think I’m scared?” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of what you’re doing to me, how you’re making me feel things I don’t know how to handle. You say you want a real man? Fine. Here I am, standing right in front of you, telling you I want you.”
Your pulse raced as his words sank in, each one like a spark igniting a fire in your chest. But instead of pulling away, instead of shutting him down like you’d always done before, you stayed frozen in place, your body betraying you as your breath came quicker and shallower.
A part of you wanted to give in, to let him consume you completely as he desired. But you couldn't. You had to stay strong, to keep your head clear. You had to step back, couldn't let him consume you whole.
Distracted, you found yourself blurting out, "Make sure you save the data from today's sail..." Your voice sounded strained and thin to your own ears. You were acutely aware of every place where your bodies touched, every point of contact sending sparks skittering across your skin.
The words felt hollow, a pathetic attempt to sound unaffected, but you couldn’t care. Without waiting for a response, you shoved the door open and stepped outside, letting it slam shut behind you.
The cool sea breeze hit you like a wave, sharp and stinging against your flushed skin. You leaned against the railing, gripping it tightly as if it could anchor you, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might break free of your chest.
You stared out at the endless expanse of water, desperate to quiet the storm raging inside you. But it was no use. His words still echoed in your head, wrapping around you like a siren’s song you couldn’t escape.
Lucerys felt his heart clench painfully in his chest as you tore yourself from his grasp and fled, leaving him standing there alone with the weight of his confession hanging heavily between them. He watched you go, his eyes dark and haunted as he struggled to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him.
For a long moment, he stood rooted to the spot, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of the intensity of his feelings for you. He had never experienced anything like this before, this all-consuming, desperate need to possess and be possessed by another person. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and he didn't know how to handle it.
But as the initial shock wore off, Lucerys felt a surge of determination rise up inside him. He refused to let you slip away that easily, to run from the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you like electricity. No, he would chase you to the ends of the earth if he had to, until he had you exactly where he wanted you - naked, willing, and completely at his mercy.
Lucerys stood there, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he stared at the empty space where you had just been. He could still feel the ghost of your touch, the way your body had pressed against his, soft and warm and achingly perfect. Fuck, he wanted you so badly that it physically hurt, like a constant ache in his gut that only your presence could soothe.
He dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to regain his composure. This was new territory for him, this intense, overwhelming need to have someone, to claim them and make them his own. He'd never felt anything like it before, not with any of the countless women who had thrown themselves at him over the years. With you, it was different. It was everything.
Lucerys's mind raced as he tried to figure out his next move. He knew he should give you space, let you cool off and come back to him on your own terms. But the thought of you slipping away, of losing you before he'd even had a chance to truly have you... it made his heart hurt.
No, he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't. He would chase you down, corner you, pin you against the wall until you had no choice but to listen to him. To hear him.
Lucerys took a deep breath, his jaw clenching with determination as he kept sailing the boat towards the marina. In just a few hours he will have you... with no distractions.
Lucerys's mind raced as he kept sailing, his thoughts consumed by you. The way you felt pressed against him, the taste of your skin, the sound of your breathy moans... it was all he could think about. He couldn't focus on anything else, not even the task.
As the sun began to set and the marina came into view, Lucerys felt a surge of anticipation and nervousness. He knew that once he had you alone, he wouldn't be able to control himself. He would take you, claim you, make you his completely.And God help him, but he couldn't fucking wait.
Lucerys's hands gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white as he steered the boat towards the dock. He could see the lights of the marina growing closer, the sound of music and laughter carrying across the water. But all he could focus on was you, the way your body had felt against his, the scent of your skin lingering in his nose.
He knew he should slow down, should take his time docking the boat. But he was too impatient, too desperate to get to you.
Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you sat on the deck chair, desperately taking long drags of your vape. But no matter how much smoke you inhaled, your nerves only seemed to worsen. You couldn't shake the memory of Lucerys' intense confession, the way his eyes had burned into yours with such raw, desperate hunger. It made your skin prickle and your core throb.
As the dock came into view, panic washed over you. There was no escape now, no way to avoid the impending confrontation with Lucerys. You were trapped on this damn boat, just the two of you and the pounding of the waves against the hull. You knew you couldn't run from this, from him, not with only one bed on board.
Hastily, you jumped up from the chair and made your way to the cabin, needing to compose yourself before you faced him. You caught your reflection in the mirror - your hair was a wild mess, your eyes were wide and wild, your cheeks flushed a deep, telling pink. You looked like a wreck, like a woman on the verge of losing her mind... and maybe you were.
You paced around the small space, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. You felt like a caged animal, desperate to break free but unable to escape the predator stalking you from the shadows. Lucerys... fuck, why did he have to be so intense, so consuming? Why did he make you feel this way like you were drowning in a sea of your own desire?
The engine suddenly stuttered to a stop, jolting you out of your panicked thoughts. Shit. He was here, he was close, and you weren't ready. You weren't sure you would ever be prepared.
Your heart raced as you crept toward the window, peeking out at the marina and holding on to hope that he had somehow forgotten your heated conversation earlier. But deep down, you knew it was futile.
Lucerys climbed onto the dock, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he secured the boat to the pillar. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, his heart pounding in anticipation of seeing you again. He knew you couldn't run from him forever, that eventually, you would have to face the undeniable connection between you.
As he strode towards the cabin, Lucerys took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. But it was no use - all he could focus on was the pounding of his heart, the desperate ache in his gut that demanded to be filled by you.
He pushed open the door to the cabin, his eyes immediately finding yours in the dim lighting. For a moment, he stood there, drinking in the sight of you - your wild hair, your flushed cheeks, the way your tits heaved with each panicked breath. Fuck, you looked like a fucking goddess, like a dream made flesh. And he wanted to ruin you, to claim every inch of your body until you were marked as his and his alone.
"You can't run from this," Lucerys said softly, his voice low and rough with emotion. He stepped closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he invaded your space. "From us. I won't let you."
Your heart raced as you turned around and pressed your back against the cool glass window, your breath catching in your throat as Lucerys approached you with slow, deliberate steps. You were trapped, cornered, with nowhere to run or hide.
"L-Lucerys," you stammered out, your voice shaky and breathless. You could feel the blood rushing in your ears as he invaded your space. You tried to meet his intense gaze but found yourself unable to hold it for long, your eyes darting nervously away.
You could see the hunger burning in his eyes, the raw, desperate need that made your core throb and ache with longing. You knew you should be fearful, should be running for the hills at the sheer intensity of his obsession. But instead, you felt a thrill of excitement.
Lucerys grasped your chin firmly, forcing your gaze to meet his as he loomed over you. He could feel the way your breath hitched, the way your pulse raced beneath his fingertips. It made him feel powerful, and invincible, like he could take on the world and emerge victorious. As long as he had you.
"I meant what I said earlier," Lucerys murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "I'm fucking obsessed with you. I can't think about anything else, can't focus on anything but you."
Lucerys leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours as he pinned you against the window with his hips. "Don't you get it? I want to fucking devour you, consume you until there's nothing left. I want to ruin you for anyone else, make it so you can never even look at another man without thinking of me."
You gasped quietly, a soft sound that escaped your lips as you turned your face to the side, biting your lower lip to suppress the intensity of sensations. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, savouring the tension that hung between you. Your back instinctively arched against him, the warmth of his body sending shivers down your spine, your chest brushing against his deliciously.
"Don't make empty promises," you breathed softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as your gaze met his. Looking up at him through your lashes, your pupils wide with desire, your heart racing in the stillness of the moment.
Lucerys's eyes darkened with lust at your breathy words, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. "Empty promises? I never make empty promises," he growled, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "I always follow through... on everything."
To prove his point, Lucerys crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, making you gasp softly. A breathy mewl escaped your lips as Lucerys claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. He was pouring all of his longing and frustration into the heated embrace. Lucerys licked into your mouth, his tongue delving deep to taste you, to claim you.
Your own desire ignited like a wildfire in your veins, and you found yourself kissing him back with equal passion, your hands sliding eagerly under his shirt to caress the hard planes of his chest.
Lucerys tore his mouth from yours, both of you breathing heavily as he attacked your neck next. He sucked and bit at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his own. "Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined," he panted against your throat, his fingers sliding under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your stomach.
Lucerys' hands were everywhere, groping and squeezing, igniting sparks of pleasure that made you writhe against him. When his mouth found your neck, you threw your head back with a whimper, your fingers clawing his chest as he sucked and bit at your racing pulse. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sensation of finally having him touch you like this, his touch leaving you breathless and aching for more.
Your hips rolled instinctively against his, feeling the hard, thick length of his cock against your lower stomach. It made you throb, made you clench around the emptiness inside you, desperate to be filled by him. You wanted to touch him everywhere, to map out every inch of his toned body. Your hands slid lower, teasing along the waistband of his pants, your heart pounding.
Lucerys shuddered as you touched the waistband of his pants, his hips bucking forward involuntarily as he sought more of your touch. He was already so fucking hard, his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans, begging to be freed.
Unable to resist the temptation of your tits any longer, Lucerys slid his hands up your sides, pushing your shirt up and exposing them to his hungry gaze. He cupped the soft mounds, his thumbs brushing over the stiff peaks of your nipples, feeling them tighten even further beneath his touch.
"Fuck, I've wanted this for so long" Lucerys growled, his voice rough with lust. "Can't wait to get my mouth on these perfect tits."
In a flash of movement, Lucerys ripped your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. He dipped his head and took one hardened nub into his mouth, suckling and flicking it with his tongue as his hand continued to knead and squeeze the pillowy flesh. He sucked hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he palmed the other tit roughly.
"Oh god, Lucerys!" You whimpered, your back bowing off the window as pleasure rocked through your body like a tidal wave. Your fingers knotted in his hair, gripping the silky strands tightly as you held him against your heaving chest. "Don't stop, please don't stop..." You begged, your voice high and breathy with need.
Each hard pull of his mouth on your sensitive nipples sent bolts of electricity through your nerves, stoking the heat building between your thighs. You could feel yourself getting close already, teetering on the edge of a massive climax from his relentless suckling alone.
"Please, Lucerys, I'm so close already," you panted, looking down at him with glossy eyes. You moaned shamelessly, too lost in pleasure to feel any shame.
Lucerys smirked at your needy state, and he's barely even touched you. "I haven't even touched you, and you're already ready to come undone."
Lucerys moaned against your tit, the vibrations sending delicious shivers through you. "Such a needy little thing," he murmured, his hot breath fanning over your damp flesh.
Lucerys lapped at the hardened bud once more before releasing it, admiring how it glistened with his saliva, blowing cool air over the damp peak.
You tangled your fingers in his dark hair, tugging him up as you crashed your lips against his in a frenzied kiss. You poured all of your pent-up desire into the heated embrace, your tongue colliding with his as you ground your hips against his straining erection.
Your hands roamed greedily over his muscular chest and back, mapping out the hard planes and ridges you'd dreamed about touching for so long.
Breaking the kiss with a gasp, you gazed up at Lucerys with hazy eyes, your chest heaving and flushed. "I don't care if you're teasing me," you panted, a wicked grin on your lips. "I just need you..."
Lucerys's eyes darkened with primal hunger as he drank in the sight of your flushed skin. He could see the desperate need in your body, hear it in the way your voice trembled and broke as you spoke. It inflamed him, making his cock throb and leak in his jeans.
In a flash of movement, Lucerys swept you into his arms, carrying you towards the bed. He tossed you down onto the bed, drinking in the sight of your dishevelled figure against the tangled sheets.
Your heart raced as Lucerys tossed you onto the bed, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden movement. You could feel the heat of his gaze on your skin, the way he drank in every curve and contour of your body like a man starved.
"I want to watch you touch yourself," Lucerys demanded, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "Show me how you make yourself feel good."
"Don't be shy now," Lucerys purred, his voice a low, seductive growl. "You had no problem doing it earlier," he teased with a wicked grin.
He reached down and palmed himself through his jeans, groaning at the feeling of his own hard, aching flesh.
Blushing under his intense scrutiny, you slowly unbuttoned your jean shorts, sliding them down your legs along with your soaked red thong. A testament to the desire that had been building inside you for so long. You could feel Lucerys's eyes on you, watching your every move with rapt attention.
Meeting his gaze head-on, you brought your fingers to your mouth, sucking on the digits and coating them in your saliva. Keeping your eyes locked with his, you trailed them down your body, skimming over the swell of your breasts, and the dip of your waist, before coming to rest at the apex of your thighs.
You could see the hunger in Lucerys's eyes darken as you began to touch yourself, your fingers circling your sensitive clit in slow, teasing circles. You couldn't hold back the moan that slipped past your lips, your hips bucking slightly as pleasure sparked through your core.
"I wasn't thinking about Addam," you panted, your voice high and breathy with need. "I was thinking about you. I'vewanted this for so long, wanted you for so fucking long."
You plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping cunt, crying out at the sudden intrusion. The wet, obscene sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of your soaked pussy filled the room, mingling with your wanton moans and whimpers.
Lucerys's pupils were blown wide with lust as he watched your fingers disappear into your glistening folds. The obscene sound of your fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt filled the room, making his cock throb and leak in his jeans.
He could hardly believe his eyes as you pleasured yourself, it was the most erotic sight he had ever seen.
Unable to resist, Lucerys quickly shed his own clothes, nearly ripping them in his haste to be naked with you. His cock slapped against his stomach, long and thick and leaking heavily, and the swollen head flushed an angry purple. He wrapped a hand around the throbbing shaft, squeezing hard as he watched you debauch yourself for his viewing pleasure. A bead of pre-cum formed at the tip, slowly dripping down the impressive length.
Your breath caught in your throat as Lucerys's massive cock sprang free, the sight of his thick, pulsing shaft making you moan. You could feel your pussy clenching and dripping, aching to be filled by him.
"I need to taste you," Lucerys panted, his voice strained with desperation. "Need to eat your pretty pussy."
"Please, Lucerys," I whimpered breathlessly, spreading your legs even wider in wanton invitation. You used your fingers to hold your swollen, glistening folds open, revealing the soaked flesh. "I need your mouth on me."
Lucerys's eyes flashed with hunger as he crawled onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. The scent of your arousal filled his nostrils, making his mouth water and his cock throb with need.
He leaned in close, his hot breath fanning over your dripping slit. "Fuck, you smell divine," he growled, his voice a low rumble in his chest. Unable to resist any longer, Lucerys dove in face first, his tongue delving deep into your soaked cunt. He licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, moaning at the taste of your arousal.
He started with a long, slow lick up the centre of your slit, savouring your exquisite flavour. He could feel your body tremble beneath him, your juices flowing freely onto his tongue. He whined in appreciation, the vibrations rumbling through your core.
Lucerys focused his attention on your sensitive clit, flicking and circling the tender bud with the tip of his tongue. He sucked it between his lips, his cheeks hollowing as he drew hard on the sensitive flesh.
Needy whimpers and pitiful mewls spilt from your lips, your body writhing with pleasure as he devoured your needy cunt.
Gripping your thighs, he spread you even wider and buried his face in your pussy, sucking and licking and feasting on your soaked flesh like a man starved. His tongue delved deep, fucking into your tight channel and lapping up every drop of your essence. He could feel you clenching around the invading muscle, greedily trying to suck him deeper.
"Fuck!" You squealed, your voice pitching higher with each flick of his tongue over your swollen clit.
He could feel your clit throbbing against his tongue, puffy and sensitive from his relentless assault. He focused his attention there, flicking and circling the tender bud with the tip of his tongue before sucking it hard into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he drew on the sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Lucerys's hands gripped your ass, squeezing the firm globes roughly as he feasted on your dripping pussy. He spread your legs even wider, opening you completely to his hungry mouth.
"Oh god, yes! Just like that," you whimpered breathlessly, your eyelids fluttering in bliss. "It feels so fucking good, Lucerys!" You mewled, your head tipping back against the pillow as he ate you out with wild abandon. You could feel your pussy dripping and clenching, your juices flowing freely into his hungry mouth. He was unravelling you, breaking you with his tongue, and you never wanted it to end. Your skin burned as Lucerys feasted on your dripping sex like a man starved.
You let out a sharp cry of ecstasy, your fingers tangling urgently in Lucerys's hair, gripping the strands tightly as you held his mouth right against your aching, dripping sex.
Lucerys groaned in approval as he felt your fingers grip his hair, holding him tightly against your dripping sex. He loved how desperate you were for his mouth, for his touch. It spurred him on, making him double his efforts to bring you to the pinnacle of euphoria.
He could feel his own cock throbbing and leaking against the sheets, aching to be buried deep inside your soaked, clenching cunt. The erotic sounds of your pleasure spurred him on, his own hips rocking against the bed as he rutted against the sheets.
"I'm so close," you whimpered breathlessly, body starting to convulse uncontrollably beneath Lucerys. Your thighs quivered and shook as if experiencing a tongue-lashing for the very first time.
Lucerys could feel your body beginning to tremble and convulse beneath him as your climax approached. He could taste your arousal increasing, your juices flowing freely onto his tongue and chin. He lapped at your dripping slit, not wanting to waste a single drop of your essence.
"Don't stop, Lucerys!" you mewled desperately, fisting your hands in his dark locks and grinding your dripping sex against his face. "I'm... I'm going to..." you panted, unable to finish the sentence as the first waves of your climax crashed over you.
"Fuck yes, come on my tongue," Lucerys growled, his voice muffled against your dripping flesh. "I want to taste your cum, feel you gush in my mouth."
A guttural moan tore from your throat, your inner walls clamping down rhythmically around nothing. You were drowning in ecstasy, a sensation only Lucerys could invoke.
Lucerys's own hips rocked against the bed, his throbbing cock leaving a trail of sticky pre-cum on the sheets as he rutted desperately against them. The taste of your arousal, the sounds of your pleasure, the feeling of your body writhing beneath his touch - it was almost too much for him to bear. Your release was intoxicating, and he lapped at your cunt greedily, not wanting to waste a single drop of your essence.
Gasping whimpers escaped your lips, and your chest heaved as you tried to come down from the mind-blowing climax that had just ripped through you. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still greedy and aching to be stretched and filled by Lucerys.
Waves of remaining pleasure shuddered through your body, leaving you trembling and weak in the aftermath. You gazed down at Lucerys through hooded eyes, seeing the smug grin on his face as he licked your release from his lips. You wanted to be annoyed by his arrogance, but you were too lost in bliss to muster up any genuine irritation.
Lucerys looked up at you with a smug grin, his chin glistening with your juices. He licked his lips slowly, savouring the taste of your climax. "You taste heavenly, princess," he purred, his voice a low, satisfied rumble.
Still nestled between your trembling thighs, Lucerys pressed soft kisses along your inner thighs, helping your body come down from the intense high. He could see the way your pussy fluttered, still greedy for more. It made his cock throb with the need to be buried deep inside your tight heat.
"I could do that all day," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "Eat this pretty pussy until you're dripping and begging for my cock." Lucerys pressed a final, lingering kiss to your sensitive sex before crawling up your body, trailing his fingers over your heaving breasts and down your sides.
You gazed up at Luke through hooded eyes, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.��"Luke," you mewled needily, your voice still shaky from your intense climax. "Gimme your cock," you mumbled, wrapping your small hand around his thick, throbbing shaft. You stroked him slowly, marvelling at how your fingers barely closed around his impressive girth.
Lucerys shuddered, a needy whimper escaping his lips as your small hand wrapped around his throbbing shaft. He could hardly believe this was finally happening, that he was finally feeling your touch on his aching cock. It was almost too much.
"F-fuck, your hand feels so good," Luke groaned, shuddering as your fingers wrapped around his aching shaft. His hips jerked forward instinctively, seeking more of your touch. "I've dreamed about this for so long, about you touching me like this."
Luke's breath hitched as you slowly stroked his thick length, feeling each throbbing vein and ridge beneath your palm. Pre-cum leaked from the swollen tip, dripping down to coat your fingers and aid in their glide along his shaft.
"I need to be inside you, princess," Luke panted, his voice strained with desperation. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, gripping you tightly as he fought the urge to rut against your hand like a beast in heat.
"Mhm," you nodded eagerly, agreeing with him. You needed to feel him inside you. Now. "Lucerys," you breathed out, gazing at him with hooded, desire-filled eyes. "I want you to take me however you please. Use me..." you trailed off, your voice hitching with anticipation.
Your nails raked lightly down his chest, leaving faint red lines in their wake as you tugged him closer, desperate to feel his heavy weight pressing down on you. You arched your back, pushing your breasts up and out, silently presenting them to him as you spread your legs wider in invitation.
"Lucerys..." you whimpered needily, your hair fanning out around you against the pillow as you stared up at him with pure, unadulterated lust. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard and don't stop until I'm begging you to stop."
"Oh, and I'm on the pill, so..." you smirked, biting your lip. "You can fill me up if you want."
A shudder rippled through Lucerys at your obscene words, his cock jerking in your grip, a spurt of pre-cum dribbling from the tip at the thought of filling you with his seed. "Fuck, yes," he growled, his voice a low, roughened rasp. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk; until the only thing you remember is the feeling of my cock splitting you open."
He could hardly believe his ears, scarcely able to process that this goddess was offering herself to him entirely. Lucerys pushed your thighs apart roughly, settling between them. He rubbed the swollen head of his cock through your dripping folds, coating himself in your arousal. Then with one swift, hard thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside your tight, wet heat.
A guttural moan tore from Lucerys's throat at the feeling of your walls gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he panted, fighting the urge to come instantly. He paused for just a moment, letting you adjust to his size before he began to move.
"Ah!" You screamed in pleasure as Lucerys entered you in a quick movement, your body arching off the bed at the sudden penetration. "Move, now!" You whined in a high-pitched, needy tone, your hips bucking up eagerly to urge him to start thrusting inside you. You could feel every thick inch of his hard cock stretching you open, filling you. The sensation was incredible, better than anything you had ever felt before.
Lucerys moved your knees apart, pushing them into your chest. Holding you in a rough mating press. He began to move, pulling out until just the tip remained inside you, before slamming back in with a grunt, burying himself to the hilt. He set a hard, fast pace, the bed creaking beneath you with each powerful thrust.
"Take it, princess," he growled, voice strained with lust as he fucked into you relentlessly. "Take my cock like the greedy little thing you are." His pubic bone slammed against your clit with each thrust, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.
You could only mewl and wail in ecstasy as Lucerys was abusing your sopping cunny. Each forceful thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, leaving you a quivering, writhing mess beneath him.
"L-Lucerys!" You cried out, your voice cracking as he thrust into you wildly. "L-love your c-cock, I love it s-oo much!" You babbled incoherently, your voice broken by his hips snapping into you and your cries of ecstasy.
"I know you do, princess," Lucerys panted harshly, his face contorted in pleasure above you. "I can feel how much you love it. Your hungry little cunt is sucking me in." Your cries of pleasure spurred him on, making him fuck into you even harder, even faster.
You wouldn't be surprised if the boat rocked by now, the force of Lucerys's thrusts shaking the very foundation of the vessel. It was as if he was a man possessed, driven mad with lust and the primal need.
Abruptly Lucerys stopped his motions and flipped you onto your stomach with a grunt, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he loomed over your prone form. "On your hands and knees, princess," he commanded, his voice low. "I want to you from behind."
You arched your back, pushing your hips up and presenting yourself to Lucerys, your dripping sex and puckered hole fully on display. You gazed back at him over your shoulder with hooded, lust-drunk eyes and a coquettish smirk playing at your swollen lips.
"Mmm, how long have you thought about this?" You purred teasingly, your voice a breathy murmur. "I've touched myself thinking of you, imagining you're bending me over the nearest surface." You rocked your hips back against him invitingly, your round ass jiggling slightly with the motion.
His touch had set something ablaze in you. Never in a million years could you have pictured yourself acting like this, saying such depraved things.
"Don't tell me a strapping young man like you hasn't thought about bending me over." You reached back to spread your cheeks, putting your most intimate places on obscene display for him. "Here's your chance, Lucerys..."
Lucerys groaned, a desperate, whiny sound escaping his throat at the erotic sight of you presenting yourself to him. "Oh, you have no idea," Lucerys panted, his voice strained.
"Fuck, you have no idea how many nights I've lain awake, stroking my cock and imagining this moment," Lucerys panted, his voice strained with need. His hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass. "Every time I've jacked off, it was your tight little holes I was imagining."
Lucerys leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the globes of your ass. He nipped and sucked at the tender flesh, leaving little marks of possession. His fingers slid between your cheeks, teasing along the cleft before brushing over your puckered rear entrance.
You gasped sharply as Lucerys' fingers brushed over your most private place, a jolt of foreign but not unwelcome sensation shooting through you. Your eyes flew open as you looked back at him over your shoulder. "L-Lucerys!" You breathed out, a pretty flush spreading across your cheeks.
Lucerys froze, eyes widening in surprise at your sharp gasp. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked, concern evident on his handsome face. His thumb rubbed soothing circles over your lower back. "I didn't mean to be too rough..."
"No," you breathed, assuring him that you were fine. "It's just that... no one has touched me there," you quietly added, heart swelling at his concern for you.
Lucerys gazed at you tenderly, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin. "Shhh, it's okay, princess," he murmured softly. "I've got you. I'll be gentle, I promise."
His fingers slid from your rear, trailing teasingly up your side. He cupped your breast, kneading the soft mound and rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered against your ear. "Spread out for me, offering yourself so sweetly..."
You sigh softly as Lucerys's gentle touches and sweet words ignite sparks of pleasure across your sensitive skin. Your fingers intertwine, his calloused hand enveloping your softer one. "I, um, I liked it when you touched me there," you confess shyly.
"Maybe you can just... touch it, while you fuck me?" You breathe out, hardly believing the obscene words spilling from your lips. What is this man doing to you? In his presence, you've become a creature of pure, uncontrolled lust, no longer recognizing yourself.
Lucerys's eyes darkened with lust at your shy confession, a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face. "Mmm, I thought you might like that, princess," he purred, voice a low rumble in his chest. "You're going to love the way it feels when I touch you there while fucking your tight little cunt."
His fingers drifted back down your body, teasing along the curve of your hip before trailing over the cleft of your ass. He brushed his fingertips over your puckered hole, applying the slightest pressure, before sliding lower to your dripping slit. Lucerys groaned as he felt how wet you were, ready for his cock.
Unable to resist any longer, Lucerys gripped your hips and thrust forward, burying himself deep inside your tight, wet heat with a throaty moan. He began to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a hard, deep rhythm. At the same time, his fingers crept between your cheeks again, rubbing and circling your puckered rear entrance.
You gasped sharply, shuddering as you felt Lucerys's thick cock stretching you open, feeling him even deeper in this position. Your back arched involuntarily, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. "Ohhh god, Lucerys!" You whimpered, feeling him tease your untouched hole.
Your knees trembled, threatening to give out from the intensity of the sensation.
Lucerys groaned as he felt your body tremble beneath his touch, your tight walls clenching around his throbbing cock. "That's it, princess," he panted, voice strained with lust.
He pressed a spit-slick finger against your puckered hole, rubbing in slow, firm circles, the pad of his thumb pressing against it in time with his slow, powerful thrusts. The sensation was incredible, unlike anything you had ever felt before. Your body shuddered and trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the dual stimulation.
"Luke!" You cried out, your voice breaking into a desperate moan. Every inch of you trembled, your core clenching and fluttering wildly around his thick cock as it stretched you open. It was almost too much, too intense, but you never wanted it to end. You pushed your hips back to meet his deep, purposeful strokes, silently begging him for more.
Your world narrowed down to the drag of his shaft against your inner walls and the maddening pressure of his thumb circling your untouched hole.
Lucerys could feel your body shaking, your velvet walls gripping his cock like a vice as he pounded into you relentlessly. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tightly," he grunted, sweat dripping down his chest from exertion. "You're trembling, princess. Does it feel good when I touch you here?"
He pressed the tip of his finger against your puckered hole more firmly as he felt your body quivering with need. His other hand slid around your hip, finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight, quick circles.
You let out a pathetic mewl, your voice breaking with pleasure as he touched your aching clit. "Mhm, it's...ahh...feels so good," you slurred mindlessly, drool dripping from your kiss-swollen lips onto the rumpled sheets.
Lucerys groaned at your mindless words and the erotic sight of you drooling in ecstasy below him. "I know, princess, you're taking it so well," he praised breathlessly.
A loud, broken sob tore from your throat as you felt the intense pressure building to a fevered pitch inside you. "I'm g-gonna... Oh fuck!" You screamed, your vision flashing white as your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave. Your walls clenched and spasmed wildly around Lucerys's throbbing cock, creaming all over his length. You could feel some of the slick, hot fluid dripping down your thighs as you trembled.
Lucerys let out a loud, whiny groan as your velvet walls clamped down on his throbbing cock like a vice. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" he cried out, voice breaking as his orgasm overtook him. His hips stuttered and jerked erratically as he pumped wave after wave of his hot, thick seed deep inside your womb.
"Yes, princess, take it," Lucerys growled, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he ground against you, making sure every last drop of his release was seated inside your hungry hole. His eyes rolled back in bliss, a fucked-stupid grin spreading across his face as he filled you up, just like he'd always dreamed of doing.
You collapsed face-down onto the bed, your body going limp as Lucerys's hot seed filled you up, painting your insides white. "Mmm, thank you," you muttered mindlessly, still drunk on cock and pleasure, your mind completely scrambled.
You could feel his release leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs as you lay there, utterly spent and satisfied. "You came so much, Lucerys. I've never felt so full before."
Lucerys collapsed on top of you, his sweat-slicked body blanketing yours as he struggled to catch his breath. "Fuck, princess," he panted against your neck, his hips still twitching slightly as the last spurts of his release dripped into your well-fucked cunt. "I've never come so hard in my life." He pressed soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder blades, basking in the afterglow of their intense coupling.
Lucerys's softening cock slipped out of your dripping hole with an obscene plop, your combined releases leaking out and pooling beneath you on the sheets. He rolled onto his side, pulling your limp, pliant body against his own as he wrapped his arms around you in a possessive embrace.
Lucerys cradled your trembling body against his muscular chest, one large hand possessively cupping the curve of your ass. His fingers absently played with your damp curls as he peppered your neck and shoulder with tender kisses, basking in the intimate afterglow.
"It's okay, princess," Lucerys murmured soothingly, feeling your body slowly relax against his. "You did so well, took every inch of my cock like you were made for it. I've never felt anything like that before, never came so hard in my life."
He pressed a particularly tender kiss to the delicate skin beneath your ear. "I could feel how much you loved it, loved feeling my cock stretching this tight little cunt, filling you up so deep." Lucerys's hand drifted up to cup the soft swell of your breast, thumb teasing over the hardened peak of your nipple.
You smiled tiredly, your heart fluttering at his tender words of praise. "Thank you, babe," you murmured, the endearment slipping so naturally from your lips.
Your hand covered his on the soft swell of your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze as you snuggled back against his muscular chest. "Loved how you fucked me," you mumbled, your voice hoarse from the hours of moaning and screaming his name.
Lucerys smiled softly at your murmured praise, his chest rumbling with a contented hum as he held you close. "I loved fucking you too, princess," he murmured, voice a low, intimate rasp.
Lucerys pressed a tender kiss to your temple, his fingertips tracing the elegant curve of your spine as you lay draped across his muscular chest. He could feel the steady drum of his heart beneath your cheek, the gentle rise and fall of his lungs as he slowly came down from his high.
"You're beautiful," Lucerys murmured, voice a low, awed whisper as he gazed down at you with a soft, sated smile.
He brushed a few tousled waves of hair from your face, tucking them gently behind your ear. The intimate gesture made his heart flutter in his chest, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the afterglow of their intense lovemaking.
Lucerys knew, in that perfect, tranquil moment, that he had fallen for you. Hard.
You turned in Lucerys's arms to face him, your heart pounding nervously in your chest as you gazed up at him through your lashes. You didn't want to shatter the intimate, peaceful atmosphere we had created, but you needed to know where you stood.
"Lucerys," you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "what happens now?" you bit your lip as you searched his handsome face for any hint of his true feelings.
A part of you feared that you were just another challenge he had set out to win. Now that he had finally had you, would his interest fade? Would he grow bored and move on to the next pretty face that caught his eye?
The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably, but you pushed it aside. You had to know the truth, had to understand what the future held for you beyond these six days trapped together on this boat.
Lucerys's heart skipped a beat as he gazed down at your lovely face, seeing the hope and anxiety swirling in your eyes. He wanted more. He needed more.
Cupping your face gently in his large hand, Lucerys brushed his thumb tenderly over the delicate curve of your cheek."Princess," he murmured, his voice soft and earnest.
His gaze bored into yours, his eyes filled with a sincerity that made your breath catch in your throat. "This won't end when we reach shore. I want to see you again, want to take you out on dates, spoil you rotten... You are out of your mind if you think I'm letting you go." Lucerys mumbled against your skin in a possessive tone.
You gazed up at Lucerys, a coy smile playing on your lips. "Well, who am I to deny you such a privilege?" You murmured teasingly, your voice a sultry purr.
Your fingers traced soft patterns on his chest, enjoying the muscle beneath your fingertips. You nuzzled into his touch, savouring the warmth of his palm against your cheek.
"I have to admit, the idea of being spoiled rotten by you is rather...appealing."
Leaning in closer, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the hinge of his jaw, breathing in the masculine scent of him.
Lucerys shuddered as your soft lips brushed against his jaw. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your naked body flush against his own as he rolled you onto your back.
"I'm glad you find the idea of being spoiled by me appealing," Lucerys murmured, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Because I have many plans for you, princess." His large hands slid down to grip your hips, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he held you in place.
He leaned down, his lips an inch away from your own. "But first things first," Lucerys whispered, his breath mingling with yours. "I'm going to kiss you until you're breathless."
"Hold that thought," you giggle, reaching for your phone to send a quick text to Baela.
"Your cousin fucks like an animal... and has the biggest dick I've ever seen :p"
You press send and smile like an idiot at your own text. Quickly, you the the phone away again and got back to Lucerys, smiling into his soft kiss.
Baela snorted back a laugh as she read your message, shaking her head in amused disbelief.
"Oh, my days! I'm thrilled you're having such a... stimulating time during your school project"
"Use protection!!!!"
#house of the dragon#aera#hotd smut#hotd imagine#hotd#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#house targaryen#hotd fanfiction#lucerys targaryen#lucerys velaryon#prince lucerys#lucerys valeryon#lucerys velaryon x reader#luke velaryon#targaryen smut#smut#x reader#fem reader#one shot#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#lucerys velaryon smut#lucerys smut#luke velaryon smut#lucerys x reader#reader insert#female reader#reader smut#reader x character
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ink & innocence - 4
word count: 4.3k
The following week passed in a blur, slipping through Aspen's fingers like grains of sand. It wasn't that anything particularly eventful happened— it was simply the ebb and flow of her routine picking back up, steady and unrelenting. Aspen and Harry hadn't crossed paths since their last interaction in his car. There was no awkward avoidance, no pointed effort to stay away from one another; it just seemed like their worlds didn't have any reason to overlap again, and Aspen was grateful for it.
Zayn, however, was a frequent presence at her and Isobel's apartment. He popped in and out like he lived there, lounging on their couch or rummaging through their fridge as if it were his own. Aspen didn't mind, his visits usually brought a liveliness to the apartment that she appreciated. Twice that week, she'd given Isobel a ride over to Zayn's place, the two of them chatting in the car about everything from class projects to the latest drama in their friend group. It felt normal, comforting, like slipping back into a well-worn pair of shoes.
As the days went on, Aspen slowly settled back into her own rhythm. The sting of Harry's biting words and cold demeanor faded into the background, their sharp edges dulling with time and distraction. She convinced herself she wouldn't have to see him again, and with that thought, the encounter began to dissolve into the haze of forgotten moments.
By the weekend, Aspen had all but moved on. Isobel, however, had other plans. She'd been buzzing with excitement about a small hangout she'd planned with Zayn and another mutual friend from their ethics class, Kirsten.
Kirsten was someone Aspen had always admired from a distance, though their friendship had grown steadily over the past semester. There was something effortlessly cool about her—the way her jet-black hair always looked freshly blown out, the patchwork tattoos decorating her arms and torso like a living canvas, and her easygoing confidence that drew people in. Aspen often found herself marveling at how Kirsten made everything seem so effortless, even though she knew her friend worked hard behind the scenes.
Months back, Aspen had gifted Kirsten a set of earrings from Hot Topic, a simple three-pack she'd picked up on a whim. To her delight, Kirsten had been over the moon about them, threading them through some of the many piercings in her ears and swearing they were her new favorites. Aspen couldn't help but smile every time she saw them still nestled in their spots, as if they'd become a permanent part of Kirsten's look. Little things like that made Aspen happy, knowing she'd managed to give someone even a tiny bit of joy.
The only downside to the evening was that Aspen couldn't join them.
"Are you sure you can't call off?" Isobel pouted from her spot on Aspen's bed, her wide eyes pleading as Aspen bustled around the room. Her tote bag sat open on the desk, half-packed with her essentials for work, and Aspen was carefully ticking off a mental checklist as she slipped items inside.
"Sorry, Iz," Aspen said with an apologetic smile, glancing over her shoulder. "I really need this shift. Just tell Kirsten and Zayn I said hi, okay? I'll come by as soon as I get off."
Isobel huffed dramatically, flopping back against the pillows like a scorned child. "You're no fun," she whined, though her tone was light, her pout more for show than anything else.
Aspen chuckled softly, zipping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "You'll survive without me for a few hours," she teased, grabbing her car keys from the hook by the door. She twirled the ring around her finger absentmindedly, muttering under her breath as she double-checked her mental list. Wallet? Check. Keys? Check. Notebook? Check.
It was only a six-hour shift at the library, but Aspen wasn't taking any chances. She'd made the mistake of forgetting her planner once before and spent the whole shift feeling adrift. Today, she was determined to be prepared.
"Alright, I'm off," she said, pausing in the doorway to shoot Isobel a quick smile. "Don't have too much fun without me."
"Impossible," Isobel replied, blowing her a playful kiss as Aspen stepped out into the hall.
The door clicked shut behind her, and Aspen let out a small sigh as she headed toward the stairs. She loved her friends, but there was a certain peace in stepping away for a while, retreating into her own little bubble at work. The library wasn't particularly busy on weekend nights, and she suspected tonight would be no different. Still, Aspen felt a twinge of guilt for missing the hangout. She consoled herself with the thought that she'd still have time to join them later, even if just for an hour or two.
As she slid into the driver's seat of her car and started the engine, she made a mental note to text Marion about picking up extra shifts next week. With the semester break in full swing, she had no excuse not to fill her days with something productive. For now, though, she focused on the road ahead, leaving the apartment—and the lingering thought of Harry—firmly in her rearview mirror.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Harry leaned back against the sofa, glaring at the ceiling as Zayn's insistent knocking echoed through the flat. His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, but he ignored it, determined to outlast his friend's relentless persistence. Normally, anytime there was a chick for Harry to meet, he would jump at the opprotunity. But when Zayn informed Harry it would be at Isobel's place, which she shared with Aspen, he slammed the door in the fools face. Why couldn't Zayn take a hint? The last thing Harry wanted to do was show up at Isobel's place and risk seeing Aspen.
He couldn't explain it to himself, let alone to Zayn. Something about Aspen had gotten under his skin in a way that he didn't like, couldn't afford to like. He'd spent the entire week trying to brush it off, but the memory of her wide, vulnerable eyes kept creeping in when he least expected it. The way her expression had faltered when he pretended not to know her replayed in his head like a broken record.
"Stupid," Harry muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He knew exactly what he'd been doing that night. Keeping her at a distance was the smart thing to do, the necessary thing. She was too soft, too trusting, too much of a reminder of the things he didn't let himself have.
The knocking stopped, and for a moment, Harry thought Zayn had finally given up. But then came the voice; louder now, more annoyed.
"It's been a week, Harold!" Zayn shouted through the door, the sound carrying easily through the quiet flat. "You can't avoid this forever!"
Harry scoffed, muttering to himself, "Watch me."
But Zayn wasn't deterred. The knocking resumed, harder this time, like he was trying to break down the door. Harry's temper flared.
"Piss off!" Harry barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through the air. He was halfway off the couch, ready to march to the door and tell Zayn to leave in no uncertain terms, when the next words froze him in his tracks.
"She won't be there!" Zayn shouted.
Harry hesitated, his fists clenching at his sides.
"Get your ass in the car in the next five minutes, or I'm off without you!" Zayn added, the frustration in his tone clear.
Harry stood there for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he wrestled with himself. The rational part of his brain told him to stay put, to let Zayn go and save himself the trouble. But the other part, the one that hated the idea of Zayn going without him, won out.
Grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch, Harry stormed to the door and yanked it open. Zayn stood on the other side, his arms crossed and a smug expression already forming on his face.
"Happy now?" Harry snapped, shoving past him.
"Ecstatic," Zayn shot back, following him down the hall. "You know, you're a real piece of work sometimes."
"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for your opinion, did I?" Harry muttered, pulling his keys from his pocket with more force than necessary.
They made it to Zayn's car in tense silence, the only sound the clicking of Harry's boots against the pavement. He slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind him, and crossed his arms over his chest.
Zayn glanced at him as he started the car. "You gonna act like this all night?"
Harry didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the window as the city streets blurred past. He wasn't about to give Zayn the satisfaction of a response— not when he was still trying to convince himself this wasn't a colossal mistake.
But as the car neared Isobel's place, Harry felt the familiar knot of tension tighten in his chest. He told himself it was fine, that Aspen wouldn't be there, that it didn't matter even if she was.
And yet, he couldn't stop his mind from drifting back to the last time he saw her, to the soft quiver in her voice, the hurt lingering in her eyes.
For the briefest moment, he allowed himself to wonder what it would've been like if he hadn't been such a grump that night. If he'd let her in instead of pushing her away.
But then the car came to a stop, and Harry shoved the thought aside, hardening his expression as he prepared for whatever lay ahead.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The knot in Harry's stomach eased as soon as he stepped inside the apartment and confirmed Aspen wasn't there. It wasn't that he was afraid of seeing her— no, he'd never admit that— but the lack of her presence made it easier to relax. He trailed behind Zayn, his ears semi-attuned to the conversation ahead of him.
"Asp says hi, she's just at work," Isobel chirped, smiling as she gestured for them to come in.
Zayn nodded, making a noise of acknowledgment as he immediately grabbed a handful of popcorn from the coffee table and stuffed it into his mouth.
Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced around the cozy apartment. It was just about six PM now, the golden light of the evening spilling through the sheer curtains and casting warm streaks across the walls.
He settled into the same single seat he'd claimed when they arrived, nursing a beer he barely sipped. The past hour had dragged by in a haze of idle chatter, Zayn and Isobel's easy back-and-forth filling the room. Harry tuned in and out, his green eyes flickering between them and the third person he hadn't met before.
Kirsten.
She was hard to miss, even in the relaxed setting. Jet-black hair with the perfect blowout, tattoos snaking up her arms, and a confidence in the way she carried herself that couldn't be ignored. Harry wasn't going to lie to himself— she was undeniably attractive.
The glass bottle in his hand met his lips as he took another sip, his gaze locking with Kirsten's when she suddenly directed a question his way. Her voice was smooth, steady, and tinged with curiosity.
"Oh, hm?" Harry blinked, realizing too late that he'd completely missed what she said.
Kirsten laughed lightly, shaking her head as she repeated herself. "I asked how long you've been doing tattoos. Isobel always talks about how talented Zayn is, and you," she motioned to the intricate art covering his arms, "don't seem far behind."
Harry's lips quirked up in a half-smile, the smallest bit of amusement flickering across his features. "About four years," he said, his voice low and even. He tipped his beer toward her. "Thanks. You got any tattoos yourself?"
It was a dumb question, and Harry knew it the second the words left his mouth. He'd already caught glimpses of ink peeking out from beneath the edges of her sleeves, but he couldn't exactly take it back now.
Kirsten didn't seem to mind, though. "Do I?" she teased, rolling her sleeves up to reveal a collection of intricate designs. What he hadn't expected was for her to stand, grinning as she gave a guided tour of her tattoos. Harry leaned forward slightly, feigning casual interest as she explained the stories and meaning behind each piece.
Then, without much hesitation, Kirsten lifted her shirt to reveal more ink winding up her side.
Harry wasn't proud of it, but he couldn't stop his eyes from following the smooth line of her skin. Patchwork tattoos decorated her tan complexion, leading up to a striking piece that curved along her ribs. He knew from experience how painful those placements could be, and he couldn't help but be impressed by her commitment.
But then he caught a glimpse of the underside of her bra, a little black bow sitting between the two cups.
The momentary flash was enough to snap him out of his trance. Harry cleared his throat, his gaze darting anywhere but her torso as he suddenly became very interested in the popcorn bowl Zayn was hogging.
Zayn raised an eyebrow at Harry, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knew exactly where his friend's attention had been. Kirsten didn't seem to notice, lowering her shirt with an easy smile. "The ribs were the worst," she said, sitting back down and melting into more conversation with the others.
Harry nodded, his tone casual but clipped as he responded, "Yeah, they usually are." His knuckles tightened around the neck of his beer bottle, but he forced himself to relax, leaning back into the chair with a practiced ease.
It wasn't that Kirsten wasn't captivating— she absolutely was. But even as she sat back down, her confident laugh ringing in his ears, Harry couldn't stop the faint, unwelcome thought of Aspen from creeping into his mind.
No. Not now. He shut it down before it could go any further, forcing himself to focus on the present. Aspen wasn't here, and that was for the best. He had no business thinking about her when someone as bold and stunning as Kirsten was sitting right in front of him. Plus, he didn't care. He didn't care.
By the time seven-thirty rolled around, the fiery golden light filtering through the shades had faded into a soft haze of orange that melted into the deep blue of the encroaching night. The living room had quieted in its own way, the earlier energy settling into a calm rhythm as conversations became subdued. Harry, always one to retreat into his thoughts, found himself staring through the circular window. The soft glow outside reflected against the glass, and for a moment, he let his mind drift.
The sound of movement pulled him back, and he turned to see Kirsten sliding into the seat next to him. She settled in with an easy grace, her long legs crossing as she leaned slightly toward him. Harry's gaze instinctively flickered toward Zayn and Isobel on the other side of the room. They were hooked together in conversation, arms draped over the back of the sofa, utterly oblivious to anything beyond their small bubble.
Harry suppressed a sigh, realizing he had no real choice but to engage with Kirsten. Not that he particularly minded, though. There was something intriguing about her, even if he wouldn't say it outright.
He raked a hand through his curls, the silver rings on his fingers catching the dim light as he brought his attention back to her. She was watching him, her dark eyes sharp and interested, the corner of her mouth pulled into a slight, knowing smile.
"You always this quiet?" Kirsten asked, her tone teasing but not unkind. Her confidence lingered in every word, and she didn't seem fazed by Harry's reputation or the tension he carried like armor.
"Depends," Harry replied, his voice low and rough, the kind of tone that made most people think twice about pushing him. His green eyes held hers for a beat longer than necessary before he added, "Not much to say if there's nothing worth talking about."
Kirsten laughed softly, a sound that was warm but measured, like she wasn't going to let him off that easy. "Good thing I'm here, then. I've been told I'm great at pulling words out of people."
Harry tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. "Is that so?"
"It is." She leaned back, her arm draping over the chair in a mirror of his posture. "But you'll have to tell me if it's working."
Harry took a slow sip of his beer, buying himself a second to decide if he wanted to indulge her. There was a challenge in her eyes, one he wasn't entirely sure how to approach. She wasn't like most people he met; intimidated, fawning, or overly eager to crack his exterior. She seemed comfortable in her own skin, and that unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite pin down.
"You like tattoos," he said finally, nodding toward the ink she'd shown earlier. His tone was casual, but there was an edge of curiosity beneath it.
Kirsten's brows lifted slightly, like she hadn't expected him to start there, but she didn't miss a beat. "Love them. Got my first one when I was eighteen. You?"
"Sixteen," he replied, his lips quirking into something that wasn't quite a smile but close enough. "Did it myself. Still looks like shit."
She laughed again, this time with more warmth, her fingers brushing absentmindedly over the ink on her forearm. "Everyone's first is terrible. That's the rule, isn't it?"
"Maybe. But mine's particularly bad," Harry admitted, his voice dropping into a quieter, almost self-deprecating tone. For a moment, the intimidating edge to him softened, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of something more vulnerable underneath.
Kirsten tilted her head, studying him. "I don't believe it. You're too much of a perfectionist for that."
Harry's gaze sharpened at her words, his brow furrowing slightly. "What makes you think that?"
"You're careful," she said simply, shrugging one shoulder. "The way you sit, the way you talk, even the way you drink your beer. It's all calculated, whether you realize it or not."
For a split second, Harry wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or impressed. Most people didn't pay enough attention to notice those things about him, let alone point them out. He settled on a middle ground, his voice cool but laced with a faint hint of intrigue. "You think you've got me figured out?"
"Not entirely," Kirsten admitted, her smile turning sly. "But I'm getting there."
The corner of Harry's mouth lifted into a small smirk, and he leaned back in his chair, resting the bottle on his knee. "Good luck with that."
Her laughter was soft but genuine, and the sound tugged at something deep in his chest that he immediately dismissed. She wasn't Aspen, there was no vulnerability here, no wide eyes searching for something from him he couldn't give. Kirsten was confident, assured, and, most importantly, not asking him to be anything other than himself.
And yet, as their conversation stretched on, with Kirsten's voice carrying easily over the quiet hum of the apartment, Harry couldn't shake the strange sensation that this moment, with her leaning just a little too close and the night pressing in through the windows, might be the first time in a while he wasn't entirely in control.
They spoke as the time went on, Kirsten shyly agreeing to come back to Harrys whenever the night ended. To that, they cheered their drinks and Harry swallowed down the rest of the bottle, reaching for a shot of whatever Isobel laid out.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
"Goodnight, Marion!" Aspen waved her hand at the sweet old lady that was gracious enough to let her go home without closing. Aspen didn't mind doing it but there were just so many doors and windows and books.
The apartment buzzed faintly with the warmth of company, the scent of buttered popcorn mingling with the low hum of music that drifted through the air. Aspen took a moment to absorb the familiar comfort of her shared home, her heart lifting at the sight of Zayn's car in the driveway. The thought of Kirsten being there brightened her evening even more; their busy schedules hadn't allowed for much catch-up time lately, and Aspen had been looking forward to reconnecting.
As she locked her car and hurried toward the door, she smiled, clutching her bag, phone, and water bottle. The excitement in her chest felt light and bubbly, carrying her through the chilly night and into the apartment. The familiar squeak of the door welcomed her as it swung open.
"Hey, Isobel, Zayn!" she started cheerfully, waving toward her friends, her smile wide. She toed off her shoes, already slipping into her usual rhythm. But as her hand moved to hang her keys on the hook, her gaze landed on him.
Harry.
Aspen froze for a fraction of a second, her heart jolting in her chest. Her breath hitched, and her body stiffened. It wasn't just Harry's presence that caught her off guard—it was the fact that Kirsten was seated next to him, her posture relaxed and confident, her knees nearly brushing his. They were mid-conversation, Kirsten laughing lightly at something Harry had said, her tattooed arms resting casually on her lap.
Aspen felt heat creep up her neck, not from anger but from a strange mix of embarrassment and discomfort. She didn't want to feel this way—she barely knew Harry, and he had made it abundantly clear what he thought of her. Still, her shy nature and the lingering sting of their last encounter made her instinctively want to retreat.
"Hi," she muttered quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat and busied herself with her bag, keeping her eyes downcast as she padded further into the apartment. Her shoulders felt tight, like she was carrying some invisible weight, but she forced herself to keep moving.
Aspen leaned down to hug Isobel from behind, using the gesture as an excuse to avoid looking in Harry's direction. "Missed you," she said softly, her voice almost drowned out by the background music. Then, she turned to Zayn, who offered her a casual side hug and a warm grin.
"Glad you're home," Zayn said with genuine kindness, his words easing some of the tension Aspen felt.
Isobel patted the empty seat beside her, the indent from where Kirsten had been still visible. "Come on, sit! We're just hanging out."
Aspen hesitated, her eyes flickering toward Kirsten and Harry for a split second before she looked back at Isobel. The idea of sitting near them, near him, made her chest tighten. She could feel the way Harry's presence seemed to fill the room, an unspoken intensity that always made her self-conscious.
Faking a yawn, she stretched her arms half-heartedly. "Oh, I would, but I'm just so tired," she said, her words rushing out in an effort to excuse herself. She forced a sheepish smile. "I have to get up early to help Marion shuffle through some books. It's been a long day."
Isobel's brows furrowed slightly, and Aspen could tell her friend wasn't buying the excuse. Their eyes met briefly, and Aspen silently pleaded for her understanding. Isobel's lips pressed together, and she gave a small nod, letting her off the hook.
Aspen shot an apologetic look toward the group as she backed toward her room. "You guys have fun, though! I'll see you tomorrow." She gave a small wave and slipped down the hall before anyone could stop her.
Once inside her room, Aspen shut the door and leaned against it, exhaling a shaky breath. Her heart was still racing, and her cheeks burned from the tension she'd felt. She dropped her bag onto the floor and sank onto her bed, burying her face in her hands.
Why was she letting him get to her? It wasn't like Harry cared, he hadn't even acknowledged her properly. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the knot of emotions tangled in her chest. She was overthinking it.
But as she changed into her pajamas and slid under the covers, the image of Harry and Kirsten sitting so close together lingered in her mind. She hated how it made her feel, an odd pang of something she didn't want to name. Aspen closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would wash away the thoughts, but her mind remained restless. She wasn't even so sure why she was hung up on it all.
She never took herself as the jealous type. Certainly not over boys, and certainly not over ones like Harry. It was all a new feeling and one thing was for sure, she did not like it.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Back in the living room, Harry's sharp green eyes flickered toward the hall where Aspen had disappeared. His jaw clenched as he took another sip of another beer, masking the unease that her brief presence had stirred.
"She's just shy," Kirsten remarked casually, her voice cutting through his thoughts. She didn't sound judgmental, just observant. Kirsten wasn't kept in the loop as much as Isobel was, her lack of Aspens and Harrys hiccup showing.
Harry shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Some people are." His tone was clipped, as though the subject didn't warrant further discussion.
Kirsten arched a brow, clearly amused by his brusqueness. "Not much of a people person, huh?" she teased, leaning back in her seat.
Harry glanced at her, his gaze steady and cool. "Depends on the people," he replied flatly, his voice laced with an edge that made her smirk.
Kirsten chuckled softly, not deterred in the slightest. "Well, lucky for you, I'm pretty good company," she quipped, her confidence unwavering.
Harry didn't respond immediately, his attention shifting to the amber liquid swirling in his bottle. He wasn't sure why Aspen's sudden exit was still nagging at him, but he pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on Kirsten's bold demeanor. She was easy to talk to, and that was what he needed right now.
But no matter how hard he tried, Aspen's quiet hello and the look in her eyes as she quickly excused herself remained in the back of his mind, a subtle reminder of something he wasn't ready to confront.
#harry styles#fanfic#one direction#zayn malik#niall horan#fanfiction#wattpad fanfiction#wattpad#louis tomlinson#harry styles fanfiction#smut#harry smut#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing
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i'm so hungry and starving... please... a donation, kind sir... for the bottom ryan coalition... we are so cold...
Dear Bottom Ryan Coalition,
We have seen your humble plea and hope that the enclosed donation of some power bottom Ryan will have you well fed and warmed.
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President and CEO
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Ryan sips a chai latte and thinks, for maybe the hundredth time today, about sex.
Outside, an aggressively pale gray sky is spitting snowflakes, which Ryan wants absolutely nothing to do with. He’s sitting cross-legged under a blanket in the coveted corner space of the sectional sofa and waiting, very impatiently, for Dylan to return from his last exam before the start of winter break. Ryan’s last final was two days ago, and he’s been feeling greatly deprived of his boyfriend’s attention in the interim. He understands Dylan has been busy, he’s not upset about that, but he has been promised some stress-relieving activities before they have to start making the rounds of holiday visits with family and friends, sleeping in various guest rooms and, in all likelihood, in separate beds.
He hears the key turn in the lock and Ryan’s on his feet and halfway to the door before deciding to be cool and sit back down, trying to look a little less eager. He rearranges his blanket and picks his half empty mug back up to take a sip. Ryan listens as Dylan drops his book bag and shoes in the entryway and hangs up his coat and scarf before rounding the corner into the living room. When he spots Ryan on the sofa, Dylan throws himself onto it face first and rests his head on Ryan’s leg, closing his eyes with a weary sigh. He looks exhausted.
“Hey, you survived,” Ryan says, not allowing an ounce of the considerable enthusiasm he feels at Dylan’s return to make it into his voice, “yay.”
This has become an ongoing bit between them, because Dylan finds it hilarious when Ryan says something like “yay” or “yippee” in the absolute flattest monotone he can manage.
Dylan laughs—it works every time—but he doesn’t open his eyes.
“Hooray for me,” he says weakly, his cheek nudging Ryan’s thigh.
“Did you get any sleep?” Ryan asks, dragging his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. He wishes Dylan wouldn’t pull all-nighters like this. He doesn’t even need to, he always seems like he’s got a good handle on the subject matter for his classes. Ryan’s pretty sure Dylan is tutoring his less gifted classmates for free at these study sessions.
“Oh yeah, got a luxurious 30 minute chair nap before the final.” Dylan makes a face and Ryan mirrors it, tsking his disapproval.
It’s not unusual for Dylan to grab a nap somewhere random on campus. He can sleep just about anywhere, in some of the most uncomfortable-looking positions. He and Schrödinger have that in common—Ryan suspects his boyfriend might be part cat. Unlike Schrödinger, though, Dylan usually complains about his neck being stiff after.
“Dylan, you cannot be helping yourself by staying up all night before your exams,” Ryan chides gently.
It isn’t really Dylan’s grades Ryan’s worried about. He’s made the Dean’s List every semester, despite always procrastinating way more than Ryan would personally be comfortable with. He’s more concerned that Dylan will burn himself out working harder than he has to.
And Dylan likes helping out his fellow physics students, Ryan knows that, but he still thinks he’s doing too much. If he hadn’t accompanied Dylan on a few of these late library nights and seen the absolute nerd herd he studies with, and if Dylan weren’t Dylan and devoted far beyond Ryan’s capacity for doubt, he might start to get suspicious. Dylan does this library long haul shit often enough that he has an overnight bag that he keeps in his car for the occasion, with a toothbrush, deodorant, a change of clothes, dry shampoo, and god knows what else. He’s such a dork. Ryan finds him almost painfully adorable.
“I felt alright for the final,” Dylan says, yawning halfway through his sentence, “thanks to coffee and Adderall. I’m just crashing hard now.”
He nuzzles into Ryan’s lap, moving his head a little closer to his hip, and Ryan feels a warmth spread through him that’s only about half caused by affection. He can’t feel the heat of Dylan’s breath on him through the layers of sweatpants and blanket, but just the weight of his head so close to Ryan’s dick is doing something for him. He tries to ignore it and rubs the back of Dylan’s neck, but Dylan’s soft groan in response does nothing for Ryan’s flimsy resolve to keep this g-rated.
“Mm thank you that feels nice,” Dylan murmurs. Then, a bit louder, as if he’s just remembered they don’t actually live here alone: “where’s K?”
“Work. Until 7.”
It’s Kaitlyn’s last barista shift before the shop she works at on campus closes down for the semester. Which Dylan would know, if he remembered to check their shared Google Calendar.
“Oh,” he says, seeming to intuit Ryan’s mental scolding without him needing to say it out loud, “yeah. I knew that.”
“It would be a perfect time for a non-sleep-deprived boyfriend to rail me into the mattress…” Ryan taunts, “if only I had one. Too bad the only boyfriend I have thinks he needs to live at the Science and Engineering Library.”
Dylan scoffs. “Wow, he sounds like a loser.”
“He is.”
“He sounds pretty hot though.”
Ryan laughs, kneading the back of Dylan’s neck with his fingertips.
“He is.”
Dylan smiles in his lap.
“Trust me babe, I’m gonna fuck you so good, real soon. All I need is, like, a solid six hours of sleep, and a shower, and, y’know, probably more food by then, and some caffeine to go with the food…” he pauses and yawns again, “but once I’ve had all of that, oh man, you’d better be ready. One way ticket to Pound Town.”
“Okay, well… that’s a lot of requirements standing between me and Pound Town,” Ryan says, “can we work on that? What about… three hours and a snack?”
“Four hours and a charcuterie tray,” Dylan counters.
“A whole tray? I can’t just feed you some string cheese and ham slices?”
“Ryan, I take my craft seriously. An athlete needs fuel. At least, that’s what Kaitlyn says when she eats a whole pizza by herself the night before her hockey games.”
The thought of Dylan as any kind of athlete is almost laughable, but if there was a semi-pro league for topping, maybe he would qualify. He is tall, anatomically fortunate, and very determined. Plus, Ryan definitely wants to get fucked by him sooner rather than later, so he’s not about to laugh.
“Hm. All right. What if you fucked me real quick right now and then you can sleep as long as you want and we can get food delivered later. Pho or Chinese or something? You’ll sleep better anyway.”
He knows this is true, but isn’t sure it will be enough incentive. Dylan sleeps like the dead after he comes. They both do.
Dylan turns his head so he’s face-down in Ryan’s lap and lets out another groan, this one more protracted and decidedly less sexy. Then he turns his head to the side again.
“Baaaaabe,” he whines, “I’m so fried. It’s not that I don’t want to—believe me, I do. I just don’t think it’d be very good.”
“Well… what if I did all the work? I could be on top. You know, uh, ride you and take care of myself.”
Dylan is silent for a moment, processing this suggestion.
“Damn,” he says, “you want it that bad, huh?”
“Yes,” Ryan answers, and the blunt honesty of his need seems to finally crack Dylan’s defenses.
“Fine, but I’m literally just gonna lay there. Like, total starfish mode.” He’s trying to sound put out but Ryan sees him grinning.
“I can work with that, as long as you’re hard.”
“Oh, I’m gonna be hard,” he sighs, “I’m halfway there already.”
“I love you,” Ryan declares.
This is true—and mostly has nothing to do with how easily his boyfriend gets erections—but Ryan’s fighting kind of dirty now. Dylan might have a filthy mind, but he’s also such a romantic sap that being straightforwardly sweet to him turns him on more than pretty much anything.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dylan says dismissively, clearly aware of exactly what Ryan’s doing, “I know you do. You also love getting your way.”
“Mm-hmm, that too,” Ryan admits, patting Dylan’s head affectionately before sliding out from under both him and the blanket and standing up. “Now c’mon before you pass out right here.”
He grabs Dylan’s single hand in both of his and drags him physically off the couch and toward the bedroom as Dylan laughs at his eagerness.
Ryan releases Dylan’s hand only when he’s deposited him right next to their bed and he backtracks to close the door behind them
“Bed. Now.” He commands.
“With my clothes on?”
“I’ll take ‘em off in a second.”
Dylan lies on the bed and Ryan leans down and presses a kiss to his temple. “You work too hard, boy genius,” he says, “relax. I’ll take care of everything.”
“I am not a—wait, everything?” Dylan raises a skeptical eyebrow but Ryan thinks he’s starting to get into the idea. It’s not like Ryan’s never taken control before, he does that fairly often. But Dylan’s got a major service top streak, he rarely lets Ryan do it all himself.
“Yeah, everything.”
“Okay,” Dylan says with a quiet, wide-eyed intensity that Ryan sees only on occasions when he’s momentarily too horny even to make jokes.
Ryan grins down at him. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Understood.” Dylan moves his shoulders a little, adjusts the pillow under his head.
Ryan begins the preparations. He digs a condom out of the bedside drawer for easier cleanup, grabs some lube, and turns on the little space heater by the bed. They’ll generate their own heat soon enough but it’s still nice to have, and it’ll kick off automatically in half an hour. He sets the package of wet wipes they keep in the drawer a couple of inches from the heater, not close enough to be a fire hazard but close enough that they’ll have the chill knocked off of them for wiping up later. There’s no way he’s getting Dylan directly into a shower after this.
He strips his own clothes off in front of the heater and tosses them into the hamper before climbing onto the bed with Dylan, who is quietly watching his every move with drowsy, half-lidded eyes. Ryan grips the hem of his sweatshirt and the t-shirt underneath and Dylan sits up to allow him to pull them both off in one motion. They end up inside out and tangled together but Ryan just chucks them toward the hamper and moves on. He then quickly relieves Dylan of his pants, socks, and underwear. He’s a little glad that Dylan hasn’t bothered with his prosthetic hand today—he has yet to perfect a method for taking that off of him in a sexy way, but he’s working on it.
“Ah, shit,” Dylan says, “I might actually fall asleep just lying here. If I do, you have my full consent to keep going until you finish.”
He’s joking, there’s no way he’d actually fall asleep, but something about it, about Dylan doing nothing while Ryan gets himself off, being so passive that he could actually fall asleep… it’s not unappealing.
“That’s… kind of hot, actually. See how little you can do. Play dead.”
“Done,” Dylan says, settling back into the sheets, draping his left arm over his eyes to block out the light.
Ryan takes a moment just to look at him stretched out on their unmade bed, his reclining form long, pale, and perfect. He’s not quite fully hard yet, but he’s getting there. Ryan lays his head on Dylan’s chest and rubs slow circles low on his abdomen, in the sensitive space between his navel and his cock, watching him swell and lengthen in response. He avoids touching Dylan’s cock directly for the moment, trailing soft touches over his hip and then lightly dragging his blunt nails up and down his inner thigh, trying to build anticipation.
Dylan draws a shivery breath and Ryan thinks he looks ready. He finally gives him a few lazy strokes with his hand just to be sure before dripping a little lube onto Dylan’s cock and rolling on the condom. Then he generously drizzles more on the outside.
Ryan hovers over Dylan, unsure if he wants to be squatting with his feet on the bed or kneeling on his knees. He decides to start with kneeling and move to squatting if he needs more of a bouncing motion later. He straddles Dylan and scoots down a little to line them up. Dylan’s breathing slow and deep, eyes still obscured in the crook of his arm. He only hums softly when Ryan takes him in hand and positions him just right.
He takes a deep breath and tries to consciously relax his body, remind his muscles to be loose and pliant. It hasn’t been so long that Ryan needs fingers or a toy inside him first, but a few days is long enough for him to feel a little tight. He presses the lubed head of Dylan’s cock to his hole and sinks down slow, feeling the slight pop of his flared crown passing through the ring of muscle at his entrance.
It doesn’t hurt, in fact it feels really goddamn good, but there’s an intensity to the sensation for sure. He can feel every inch gradually pressing into him, spreading him open. Dylan’s shaft glides in smoothly, and his slight upward curve puts him at the ideal angle to rub against Ryan’s prostate, the swollen, sensitive spot on his front wall, but he doesn’t move to make that happen just yet. He takes a moment to adjust and appreciate the stretch, the warmth, the breathtaking sensation of being completely connected and filled so full.
Ryan can tell being inside him is having an effect on Dylan too—he hears him suck in air through his teeth as he bottoms out and Ryan’s weight comes to rest on his hips. Ryan shudders a little and Dylan’s body jerks in response, almost like he’s having that dream everyone has sometimes when they’re just on the edge of sleep, the one about falling.
“God,” he breathes, “you feel so fucking good.”
Ryan’s face is alight with heat at the praise but he tries not to let on that he likes it so much. Normally, he’d tell Dylan he feels good too—and he definitely does—but he decides to keep up the bit instead.
“Shut up,” he says, giving Dylan’s side a playful swat with his open palm, “you’re supposed to be asleep.”
Dylan laughs out loud and it might be the best sound in the world.
“This roleplay sucks.”
Ryan clenches a little around his boyfriend’s cock, and Dylan curses under his breath.
“You love it.”
Dylan’s lifted his arm from his face to peek at him and he watches as pre-cum drips from Ryan’s tip down onto his abdomen, connecting the two points for a moment in a thin, shimmering line.
“It, uh, has its charms,” Dylan says with a smile, eyes lifting to Ryan’s face. “Should I pretend to snore?”
“No. You should do nothing and say nothing.” Ryan’s immediately afraid this has come out harsher than intended, so he runs his hands up Dylan’s stomach and over his chest and, in a much softer tone, he says, “just relax, babe. I’ve got this. I’ll take care of us both, promise.”
“Yeah,” Dylan says, “okay.”
Ryan drags his hands back down Dylan’s torso and then rests them on his own thighs. He rocks his body forward and back a few times, feeling the press of that curve against his front wall, the deep, tingling pleasure it sends outward through his own shaft. And he’s so hard—Ryan’s always so hard when they do this—even though he has no particular need to be when he bottoms. Dylan likes it though, likes to see how hard Ryan gets when he’s inside him. He likes the feeling of Ryan’s cock, rigid and needy and wet at the tip, rubbing against his belly with every stroke when Dylan fucks him in missionary.
He gyrates on top of Dylan, grinding the length inside him very slowly, feeling himself open up. Sure, maybe he said “fuck me real quick” earlier, but now that Ryan’s fucking himself on Dylan’s cock he doesn’t see much need to be in a hurry.
Ryan’s ridden Dylan in this exact position before but never with him just lazily pancaked out beneath him. Usually, his boyfriend would be touching him all over, squeezing Ryan’s ass and nipples, holding onto his hips and urging him on, running his single hand and the flat, soft plane of his inner wrist over Ryan’s abs and breathlessly telling him how gorgeous he is. In a softer moment, he might sit up and tenderly stroke Ryan’s face, kiss his forehead and cheeks and chin before passionately bringing their lips together. Either of those options would drive Ryan absolutely crazy, but something about this is working too—Dylan looking dazedly up at him, his hushed demeanor a product of both fatigue and awe, as Ryan takes exactly what he wants from him.
He’s working Dylan’s cock in precise circles inside him now, like a toy, focusing the pressure and the friction right where he needs it, pleasure rippling outward with each movement. This may not be enough stimulation to get Dylan off, but he’s got to be enjoying the visual and Ryan doesn’t mind finishing him off with his hands after if he needs to. Since they’re using a condom this time, he would even consider putting Dylan’s cock in his mouth if he’s feeling generous—which he often is after he comes. The plasticky latex flavor condoms leave behind is not his favorite, but it’s at least a possibility, unlike when they’re doing it bare. For now, he puts Dylan’s pleasure out of his mind completely, relegates his sighs and moans to enjoyable background noise. Ryan’s looking for what feels the best for him and him alone.
Ryan leans back and puts his hands out behind him, gripping Dylan’s legs for leverage just above his knees as he rides. His movements stroke Dylan firmly inside him in quick, decisive movements. He knows he’s getting close, but doesn’t realize just how close until it’s too late. Before he can even touch his own cock directly, Ryan’s orgasm barrels through him like a freight train, so hard he finds his eyes are watering. The onslaught of sensation has him bucking uncontrollably on Dylan’s cock, moaning with abandon, his head tipped back toward the ceiling. He imagines he probably looks like he’s howling at the—nope! He cuts himself off. That’s too loaded a metaphor for him to be thinking of, even now.
His immediate desire is to let himself fall forward into Dylan’s arms, but Ryan holds himself back, realizing he’s spattered his boyfriend’s stomach and chest with cum, and belly flopping onto that doesn’t seem like such a good idea. Instead he rests where he is for a few seconds, his chin falling toward his own chest, and Dylan bends his legs behind him, plants his feet on the bed with his knees up to give Ryan something to lean back against.
Only when he comes back to his senses does Ryan realize that Dylan’s beginning to go soft inside him. He’s somehow completely missed him coming too. The contractions that squeezed his insides so tight when he climaxed must have dragged Dylan along with him, wringing his release out of him as a welcome—if unintended—side effect.
Ryan pushes up on his knees, lets Dylan’s flagging cock slide slickly out of him, and then flops down beside him on the bed. He takes Dylan’s face in his hands and kisses him softly, sweetly, a little thank you for humoring him—not that Dylan seemed to mind.
“Hey—babe,” Dylan murmurs between kisses, “—baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Little help here?”
Ryan lifts his head and sees Dylan is gesturing at his stomach, realizes he can’t move onto his side to take off the condom without risking Ryan’s cum, which is pooling on his abdomen, dribbling over onto the bed.
“Oh shit, sorry,” Ryan says, “lemme get that.”
He jumps up and grabs the wet wipes, which feel warm from sitting in front of the heater, uses several of them to mop up his own cum and then dabs at a smear of Dylan’s that’s leaked out of the condom and down onto his balls while he’s been immobilized.
Dylan snorts softly. “Thanks.”
“I did say I’d take care of everything.”
“That’s true,” Dylan nods, “I’ll get this though.”
He shifts to the side and takes off the condom, tying it off and dropping it into the trash by the bed. Ryan hands Dylan a wipe for his dick, deciding it’s probably best to let him handle that cleanup job in case he’s still sensitive.
Ryan does the same for himself, wiping away the excess lube between his cheeks, feeling just a hint of tenderness inside when he moves in a certain way. He doesn’t mind that, it makes him feel well-fucked, and he knows it won’t be enough to leave him sore later. He goes to the dresser and grabs some clean underwear and t-shirts for them both, pulling his on and tossing Dylan’s at him. He even remembers to crack the bedroom door so the cat won’t wake them up complaining if she rouses from her heated bed in the living room and decides she really needs to come in. Then he lies back down on the bed next to Dylan, snuggling into his arms, warm and content.
“Well, it looks like you stayed awake after all,” Ryan teases.
“Jesus, you think?!” Dylan laughs, “watching you get yourself off like that was… so fucking hot. Pretty sure that ass of yours could wake the dead.”
“Thank you… I think? I don’t entirely get the implication there… not sure I want to…”
“Yeah, neither do I. Maybe ask Eight Hours of Sleep Dylan about it when you see him. He should be around approximately…” Dylan pretends to look at his watch, which he isn’t wearing, “eight hours from now. Are you gonna take a nap with me?”
“Yep.” Now Ryan yawns and Dylan does the same just after, as a reflex. “I think I earned it.”
“Yeah,” Dylan says fondly, almost like he’s proud, “you really did.”
Ryan pulls the blankets up over them both and sleep overtakes them without another word.
#the quarry#rylan#radioheads#ryan erzahler#dylan lenivy#ryan x dylan#smut with feelings#asked and answered#written by bunny#power bottom ryan#happy birthday castopher#I couldn't have planned to have this finished for your birthday if I had tried but it just worked out!
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college! graphic design artist! seb x fem! reader sneak peek (inspired by true events HAHAHA i projected me and my gfs experience on this)
an: might turn into a fic !! a mix of socmed au and writing. if ever i dont turn it into a fic, ill be uploading a completed ver soon of this whole meow meow. for now enjoy!
It was supposed to be a time for discussion. Thesis work was what you exactly hoped for; a pain in the fucking ass. It was mostly expected that you'd already have a planned group before the semester started as it was a course that would last for 3 whole semesters.
That meant you'd be spending a whole school year (basically) with that group of people.
Alas, your introverted self only relied on randomized groupings and you only had a very very small social group that had different schedules from yours. You were doomed and panicking.
Luckily with the help of your professor, whom you had discreetly approached with your problem after seeing that other groups had already filled in their required numbers— had placed you in a group of four who had still yet to find a 5th member. You were thankful, yes, however, the present predicament had proved to be quite troublesome for your performance on your first meeting.
Three of your groupmates were absent. Three.
You think it might be alright to work as a pair for now considering that one was out of town, one had org duties and the other was not feeling well but the anxiety of being in a new setting with new people wasn't really doing good for you right now.
You had to depend on this man for a short presentation due in like 2 hours and you were both doing nothing.
You look down at your notes, scribbles of possible topic ideas written haphazardly across the sheet of paper. Your eyes then flicker back onto the man sitting adjacent to your seat.
You forgot his name but his face was hard to miss. You first saw a glimpse of him hosting one of the school's functions and had a great relationship with most of your professors. He was a popular kid but a good one based on your assessment of character.
He was slouched on his seat, legs stretched out on the floor and crossed over one another. He lets out a yawn as he rests his cheek on his arm propped up on the armchair while his eyes never seemed to leave the screen of his Macbook.
He seems to be busy typing several things which made you slightly feel scared that he might've been doing things by himself and forgetting your presence.
This is obviously something you're entirely assuming as he looks up from his laptop and locks eyes with yours.
You immediately look down at your notebook and begin busying yourself with the tassels of your bookmark. A flush spreads across your cheeks at being caught staring.
How could you not stare? He was known to be friendly and someone you saw often due to his reputation and connections with various school organizations. He had an overall approachable personality and was practically an attention magnet.
And also because he was .... cute.
College life wasn't exactly as much fun as your older friends used to say. It was a nightmare and an obligation you had to begrudgingly attend to. Uni days consisted of you just trying to survive throughout the week so it's safe to say your love life was as dry as the fucking desert. It was super rare to see a guy this cute in your field.
You allow yourself to scan his fit for today. How could he make an outfit as mundane as a green sweater and jeans look so ... good? The rings adorning his fingers and the black strapped watch on his wrist added to the charm and you could only will yourself to not stare even further as you'd probably be deemed as a creep by this poor young guy.
"Hey," His voice snaps you from your reverie causing you to flinch in your seat. Your look up at him in surprise as he leans forward to catch your gaze. "Y/N Y/L/N, right?"
"U-Uh yeah?" You answer timidly, fiddling with the bracelet adorning your wrist. He smiles at your answer before responding.
"Um so, I've thought of a few topics right now. Can I share them with you?" He asks softly, aware of the quiet working ambiance of the room. You nod at his offer, body positioned to listen to his proposals.
However, he only stares at you as if he's expecting you to do something else. There's a moment of silence that leaves you confused and unsure if you did or said anything wrong. It doesn't take long before you began spiraling down in a chaotic mess of overthinking. You would expect him to tell you his intentions but you certainly didn't expect what he'd do next.
"Um uh, apologies in advance—" He smiles sheepishly as if to warn you of an incoming danger. You tilt your head in confusion before watching him as he leans down, arm grabbing the underside of your chair before effortlessly pulling you close to his side. The chair glides against the floor (thankfully it had guards on its legs so the noise wasn't all that ear screeching) and you yelped in surprise at the sudden movement, gripping your armchair in the process.
It seems to have caught your professor's attention and Sebastian only sends an apologetic smile for disrupting the silence. You turn to him with wide eyes.
"I — What?"
"Sorry. I was expecting you to move but you looked like you were about to have an aneurysm or something." He chuckles as a flush spreads across your cheeks. You huff out in embarrassment before directing your eyes toward the screen.
He starts off like the previous events didn't happen. It was kind of embarrassing for you to see him so nonchalant as if he didn't just fucking drag you by one arm. He lists off his ideas to which you nod in response. Up close, you could smell the scent of his cologne and the warmth emanating from his body. He had such a huggable physique and the scent only lulled you even further to your urges.
You begin to relay your ideas as well, stumbling and stuttering over your words but he only listens patiently. Taking in your ideas and even noting them in his document.
You felt oddly touched. He heaves a sigh of accomplishment as he scans over your topics and plans of presentation. There was about an hour left before the teacher would began calling names.
"Yeah. This is good. We can present this later." He seems impressed by your ideas and makes some edits before slightly bending down the screen of his laptop.
You shuffle in your seat, unnerved by the incoming silence that would again remind you of your troubles with social interactions. He, however, turns towards you much to your surprise. A pleasant smile is plastered on his lips. You're granted by a nice view of his face as the sunlight from the window lightly hits the back of his head, creating a halo of some sort.
Dear Gods. What are you implying by this.
Wait— What the fuck. Does he have a fucking dimple?
"Quite busy aren't we?" He asks, leaning back on the chair with his head turned towards yours. In your peripheral vision, you see his leg moving from side to side as he twirls his pen on one hand. "You seem to always have a lot of things to stay and yet, nothing."
"S-Sorry." You mumble, tucking a hair behind your ear. "I'm not good with..." You motion to the space between the two of you. "This."
"Ah." He nods in understanding. "It's alright. Although, I do want to say that I don't bite. So you can freely speak your mind here."
He flashes you a boyish grin that does wonders to your heart. You watch him run a hand through his curls.
"Do you even know who I am?" He raises his eyebrows expectantly before backtracking. "Well, to be fair I didn't introduce myself and I'm acting like a fucking bigshot or something. Not my intention at all!"
He raises his arms in defense, chuckling at his response. You smile softly at him.
"I-I know who you are," You reply. "It's just the name I'm having a hard time remembering."
"Oh?" He sits up. You feel his knee hit yours and you will yourself not to flinch as your body slightly tenses at the touch. "Well in that case. I'm Sebastian Sallow. ID 121."
"Ah, yeah," Your face lights up in recognition. "Yeah, I remember now— Sorry, I'm just really bad with names."
"It's alright." He shakes his head lightheartedly. "There's a lot of people in campus so I also have a hard time remembering as well."
Your hands fiddle with each other as you glance up at him. He still has his eyes locked on yours and you can't help but avoid his unwavering stare.
"... I also know who you are." He cuts the silence once more. You turn your attention back at him in surprise. You would call yourself delusional right now but with the way he's smiling at you, you can't help but assume he's being bashful for recognizing you.
You? Recognizable? As far as you were concerned, you were practically invisible to the public eye. Just an art student surviving on her own.
"Huh?"
"Um, we were classmates before actually," His grin is wide but uneasy. Like he's uncertain if saying this would ease the gap between the two of you. "On one of our graphic design courses? It was with Professor Garlick, if I recall correctly."
Oh?
"That 6 pm class back in the first semester?" You lean towards him, intrigued. He seems shocked at your sudden interest.
"Yeah. Miss loved your output and made a whole lecture about it." He recalls. You remember her praises about your final output. Gods. He was in that class? "Made a mark in my head for sure."
"That's embarassing." You whine in protest, palms against your face. He smiles in response.
"It was rather eye opening you know? A revolutionary moment for artists—"
"Stop please." You hold your hand out to stop him from further pulling you in a spiral downward to madness. He only smiles wider.
"For what it's worth, it was well-deserved to be praised and discussed for an hour and a half." He quips, teeth showing as he grins at your exasperated face.
"Has your friends ever told you you're quite insufferable?" You raise an eyebrow at him. Your voice holds a tone of teasing. He laughs in response.
"Don't remind me." He rolls his eyes, smile still beaming on his lips. "Besides, I was just merely telling the truth."
"Aha, right. Whatever makes you happy." You gently nudge his shoulder with the back of your hand. It was supposed to be a small innocent touch but with the way his smile fell and his eyes that immediately followed the motion of your hand, you could tell that there was something else going on in his head.
Before you could question it, he immediately recovers.
"Well, I still have three semesters to win you over." He sighs, dreamily. "I think that's a win."
"You mean a nightmare." You snort in reply. He laughs.
Your eyes glance at his crinkled eyes and face riddled with laughing lines as laughter bursts out of his lips. His laugh is melodic and something you could probably never get tired of hearing.
Your eyes widen at your thoughts. That was only a mere observation. Anyone sitting within a meter from him would also say the same.
Yes. yes. That's right.
"You're drifting again." He sits up and its the sudden feeling of his thigh against yours that snaps you back to reality. You gulp at the sudden add of touch and you expect him to move it away but he stays there. You huff out a shaky breath. "It almost looked like you were shitting yourself."
"Gods," You furrow your eyebrows at his words. He chuckles. "You're insufferable."
"That's one." He clicks his tongue under the roof of his mouth. You roll your eyes at his antics. There's a moment of silence before his voice slices through it once again. "Have you... Have you ever thought about what I said?"
"Which one?" You ask nonchalantly, fingers flicking through your notes. You pen taps on the paper as you await his answer.
"The one where I said I'm as bad as you with names." He speaks with a calm demeanor but his voice is hushed as if his words are reserved for you. You can't help but give him you're undivided attention.
"Um," You pause. "No not really?"
His eyes dart toward you in the corner of his eye before smiling that familiar boyish grin.
"I like to make exceptions." He vaguely says. You furrow your eyebrows, head tilting in confusion.
"Huh?"
"I already said I know you, Y/N." He chuckles. You feel butterflies roaming in your stomach albeit confused at his insinuation.
Before you could ask him what the fuck he meant by that, the professor calls out your group. Sebastian walks to the front with no hesitance and began setting up the presentation.
Just as you watch him work, the realization sets in. Heat immediately flushes your cheeks.
No fucking way.
You stand up on shaky legs before you walk to the front. Your eyes never leave him as you stand beside his figure. You were nervous, yes, but it also had something to do with the vague motherfucker beside you.
You were about to threaten him to tell you what, how, or why but as you lock eyes with the man beside you, he sends an adorable smile and small pat on your back.
Your face stiffens and you could only will yourself to forcefully stand beside him and await your turn on the presentation.
But there was one thing you deduced from all of this.
Sebastian Sallow from ID 121 is doing things to your poor little heart.
a/n: projecting myself on seb when i tried to flirt w my gf. might contain grammatical errors lmfao im so sorry IM FALLING ASLEEP AS I CURRENTLY TYPE THIS.
#arthenaa#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy x reader#sebastian sallow x reader#hogwarts legacy fluff#sebastian sallow fluff
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ROOTS WHERE I FEEL RABID
LMFAOOO LISTENNNN YOULL GET SOME ROOTS SOON I SWEAR ALRIGHT I KNOW I KNOW 💀
but ok just to update y’all on my life real quick: i’m currently on day 3 of a 7 day work week (three different jobs) and on hour 13 of my individual workday and I’m in ALSO the middle of moving (we signed the lease friday night and I am literally getting off work in an hour to drive across town and drop off boxes only to head home for a handful of hours of sleep) and the fall semester just ended TWO nights ago and also I haven’t been able to write/edit ANYTHING that isn’t just the same budget redone 17 ways and I have Many podcast episodes I have to edit over the next few weeks before the new year starts and my accelerated winter class begins also have I mentioned that i’m sooooooooo sleepy. not that i’m complaining here this message made me laugh and i love you so sosososo terribly anon but it might provide context for my relentless girlgrinding (😏) that I must do to survive (pay for bills and moving expenses) and in order to make my new lifestyle with @lambdarubisco and @perihelions-crew possible. anyways I love you and I promise you you’ll get roots soon. maybe tomorrow. hopefully. fingers crossed bestie 🤪
#I almost put jobs in quotes bc the third one is cat sitting but no i’m counting that shit#also when you go from nannying one toddler to watching him and his younger cousin it really shows you how much easier one kid is alone#not even to MENTION the language barrier with her 💀#anyways anon i love you and am kissing your rabid forehead tenderly as I sent this to your dash#have faith#roots
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ok so the plan is:
OCTOBER: try and get the big smir fic to at least 40k to 1) get back into the swing of writing a lot and 2) lighten my load for November
NOVEMBER: nanowrimo hell. try and get big smir fic to 100k words, but more realistic goal is 75k. If I hit 40k by Halloween, then that's 2k words a day through November, which is a LOT, but fingers crossed. fingers fucking crossed. I believe in myself.
DECEMBER: don't look at big smir for until like 2024 bc I'm sure I'll be sick to death of it and instead work on some smaller things. try and get some stuff published bc I said I would be posting something for every chapter of the big smir fic I write and by this point I would theoretically have ~4 or 5 new chapters done. maybe do something for one year anniversary of the first smir fic. oh yeah and survive this semester of college I guess
JANUARY: edit nanowrimo hell stuff bc I'm sure a lot of it will be rough. I honestly have no idea when the big fic will be done, but I'm certain that nano will not be the end of it, as much as I wish it would be.
#my posts#no ship#that big smir fic#this post is mainly to hold myself accountable#and to encourage myself#and to make a plan#hence the first line#you get it#and also to let yall know what im going to be up to the next few months#im at 34k on the big fic rn!#which is 4k more than last week apparently so I'm pretty confident i can get the October goal done pretty easily#November we'll have to see
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get to know me tag.
i was tagged by @browntrait (ty love <333), but these past few weeks have been chaos on my end so we'll see how much of this actually gets filled out sksksksk
last song (istg this f*cks so bad hello???? he didn't have to come for my throat like this i'm shaking. my Spotify lineup about to be WRECKED):
favorite color(s): i have always been into neutrals but lately the dark blues and greens have especially had me in a chokehold????? idk idk they just look so good i'm tempted to overhaul my wardrobe whenever i see them
currently watching: literally just finished Song of the Bandits on Netflix (mother. i am. Bisexual) so i am showless for the moment but i plan to catch up on The Devil's Plan hopefully???? survival entertainment show where if you don't use your brain you're f*cked fingers crossed it's as good as the premise says
last movie: nothing i can remember off the top of my head during the past month or so but before that i rewatched The Throne and cried like a bitch, do not recommend if you do not want to cry like a bitch. also rewatched Sarafina after years and still cried like a bitch so you see where this is going
currently reading: academic class book assignment written by some white man that is dry af and currently draining the life out of me. pray for me pls
sweet/spicy/savory: as someone from the Caribbean why would you ask me that. why would you ask me to choose do you know how my soul left my body two months ago when i got my hands on a good wrap roti and samosa with fried plantain on the side and sweet and spicy chutneys. tamarind and green chutneys i saved the extra to eat with my rice and beans and provision for the rest of the week why would you ask me to choose. no comment i'm sorry
last thing i googled: how to spell 'rhythm'. istg that word always f*cks me up when i'm writing something why does it do that is it bc literally all of the letters are consonants except for y as the functioning pseudo vowel. is that it
current obsession: My Dearest. this show has f*cked me six ways in every direction and it resumes airing in October so my entire month is going to just be me screaming about that sh*t in my freetime on my main. also Khadija Mbowe bc uh. hoo boy the tea is always piping hot on their channel (peep the video they did about biphobia and the downlow paradox. they dropped this during Pride they did this for me)
currently working on: surviving this semi-self study semester, the embarrassing amount of fanfic drafts in my notes app, dragging my ass out of CAS and actually doing some f*cking gameplay
tagging: the spoons are non-existent today especially so atp if you see this you're tagged. you're welcome in advance
#* mine.#* community.#* other.#* tag games.#hallasimss#ts4#ts4 simblr#tag game#( * if you haven't watched Khadija imma need y'all to do it NOW. they rewired me i have notifs on for their channel i cannot miss out#| i hope this made some kind of sense tho i feel like i was all over the place sksksksk )
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OMG HIII, I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T BEEN SENDING ANYTHING IN LATELY BUT I'VE BEEN SO BUSY WITH MY EXAMS 😞💔🙏 I hope you've been doing well!! How's the new semester going for you? :D I've just finished like 4 exams so I have like 5 more to go (:^() I'll send in more messages once I'm done!! :3 hope you have a good day, rin!!
- 🍁
ALSO !! I LOVE THE NEW THEME OMGG - 🍁(again)
hii my love !! it's been a while since ive last seen you, but please don't apologize !! your studies come first !! if we're being honest i havent been on here for a bit either teehee
4 OUT OF 9 ??? im sending you my sincerest apologies and best wishes 😭😭😭 ik studying is important but please don't forget to eat and hydrate okkiiee <3 i hope your braincells survive these turbulent times :'))
i um.. im enjoying my classes and most of my professors are superrr cool and incredible at teaching but theres one that i absolutely LOATHE,, currently in the process of proposing for a new one (fingers crossed wml)
#looking forward to those messages hehe but pls dont feel pressured <333#take ur time !!!!#also thank you for the compliment hehe i felt like this blog needed a make over so here she is#mwah sending all my hugs and kisses !! <333 hoping your week & the rest of your exams go by smoothly !!#— ; messages to rin#— ;🍁anon
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not that im adding ravi (yet) but i am thinking about how he grew up in a smaller town outside of la. how he traveled to/spent some time in la as child while going through his cancer treatments. how he watched this big, huge city and wanted to be apart of it some how.
#ooc#if i survive this semester fingers crossed#but yeah im having a lot of thoughts about ravi#cancer tw#cancer mention
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