#getting back to these now that the semester is over!!

[moonriizing]

urs | p.sh (18+)

You weren't supposed to want more, but you did. What started as a casual fling became more complicated when you found yourself caught between your desire and the reality that Park Sunghoon's heart belonged to someone else.

Genre: college au, situationship, smut Pairing: Park Sunghoon x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), NOT PROOFREAD. I'll come back to do that when I can lol. Notes: 10k words. Listening to urs by NIKI. My first Sunghoon fic and it's written on a whim! lol. I wrote this instead of working on my overdue wip lol. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally nor claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. xoxo, cal.

Enjoy~

You first met Park Sunghoon at a frat party you had no real interest in attending. It was the first night of the semester, the music was good, the drinks were flowing, and the energy was exactly what you needed. It was the kind of night that made you feel young and invincible, where bad decisions were just part of the fun. And tonight, you were on a mission: hook up with a hot guy.

It was a promiscuous mission, you knew that. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t that kind of girl because you were! But you weren’t the reckless, messy type. No, you were the smart kind of promiscuous. The kind who could have fun without losing control. You were practical about it—always sober enough to make sound decisions, always keeping your boundaries clear. Simply put, you were the best type of promiscuous.

As a college girl with ambitions, you couldn’t afford to get tangled in romance and all that commitment nonsense. Too much work. But you had needs, and fulfilling them meant nights like this—scanning the crowd for a guy who could tickle your fancy, no strings attached.

That was how you spotted him.

Tall, handsome, but oddly out of place. While the rest of the party thrived on the chaos, he stood by himself in a corner. He had a cup in his hand, but it wasn’t like he was enjoying it. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else—his posture slouched just enough to suggest he wasn’t a part of this. He had that bored, almost irritable look on his face, the kind that made you wonder if he was only here because someone dragged him along.

You were not the type to hesitate, so you didn’t. You’d done this enough times to know exactly what you were after, and right now? You were after him.

“Is this your first frat party, or are you just too cool for it?” you asked, leaning in just enough to get his attention.

He glanced at you, his eyes flicking over your face for a second before landing on your lips, then back up to your eyes. Up close, he was even more good-looking—long lashes, sharp features, lips that curled just slightly at the corners like he was already amused by you, and a couple of beauty marks on his face that made him even more striking.

He was definitely your type.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” you added, taking a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact.

“That obvious?” he asked, his voice low, almost melodic.

You smirked, liking the way his voice was as perfect as his looks. “You look miserable,” you pointed out, still grinning.

He chuckled lightly, amused but not exactly thrilled. “What about you? Having fun?”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t. But right now, I think I might be…” You let your gaze wander, deliberately slow, from his face to the exposed skin of his chest where a few buttons were undone.

Sunghoon smirked, his gaze trailing over you in a way that was appreciative without being too obvious. “Well, that makes two of us,” he replied suggestively.

He flirted right back!

“I’m Sunghoon,” he said, offering his hand for a shake. You took it and gave him your name.

Your eyes locked with his—now more curious, sizing him up. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you staring each other down, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts with your hands still joined. Then you saw a flicker in his eyes that made you come to an agreement with your own intuition.

You tilted your head, eyes still locked with his. “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

His eyes widened slightly, his brows lifting in surprise—visibly caught off guard by your suggestion. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn’t let go completely. You kept your gaze steady, showing no hesitation and letting him know you were serious. A few seconds of silence passed where you almost thought he’d say no, but then he exhaled a soft laugh.

“Are you always this forward?” he asked, amused now.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Only when I see someone I like.”

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you like me?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.”

With that, his smirk widened, and before you could second-guess yourself, he set his cup down. “My place or yours?”

And just like that, you were out of the party and heading to whatever the hell came next. No strings, no pressure. Just the way you liked it.

You didn’t know it then, but that was when the tsunami that would come crashing in began to take shape.

You didn’t mean for it to happen again. It was supposed to be a one-time thing—fun, uncomplicated. But he was phenomenal, so it happened a second time. And a third. And eventually, you just lost count.

Maybe it was because, other than the fact that he was really good at it, he was also easy to be around. He wasn’t like the others—the ones who got clingy after a night or acted like they were doing you a favor by sleeping with you. Sunghoon was different. He never overstayed his welcome, never asked for more than you were willing to give, but he wasn’t distant either. If anything, he was… nice.

Not in a fake, trying-too-hard way. Just nice. Made you feel comfortable, always made sure you finished before he did, and never left without saying something witty that made you roll your eyes. He had this way of being detached but not cold, like he had mastered the art of keeping things casual without being an asshole.

“You know,” you mused, sprawled across his bed, still catching your breath, “my first impression of you was that you were boring and miserable. Turns out you know how to make a girl have fun.”

Standing by his closet, Sunghoon threw you an amused glance as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head. “Yeah? I aim to please.”

You smirked. “That sounds like something a guy who thinks he’s good in bed would say.”

He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, looking almost too put-together for someone who had just spent an hour between your legs. “And? Am I not?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. You’re alright.”

He scoffed, tossing a pillow at you, which you barely dodged. “You’re a bad liar.”

You grinned, stretching lazily. “Well, I can’t have you getting a big head, can I?”

Sunghoon shook his head, his lips curling into that infuriatingly charming smirk. “Too late for that.”

It was easy. Too easy. Maybe that’s why you let it keep happening.

Behind closed doors, there was no restraint. It didn’t matter if it was your place or his—once the door was closed, your hands were on his neck, his lips found your skin, and clothes barely made it past the foyer before being discarded.

Sunghoon was incredible in bed. He was controlled, precise, yet somehow still desperate when he kissed you, when he pressed you against the mattress, when he groaned your name like it was the only thing keeping him from spiraling. And you? You had mastered the art of making him unravel.

You knew exactly what made him weak, how to turn his composure into incoherence, how to make him grip your waist a little harder or breathe your name in a way that made your stomach flip. It was exhilarating, effortless—two people who just fit perfectly when it came to this.

But outside? You were mere acquaintances.

A nod in the hallway. A fleeting smile across the quad. If you happened to pass each other at a party, he’d tip his cup in your direction, and you’d lift a brow in acknowledgment. No one knew. No one suspected a thing. And you liked it better that way. You were both civil and could control your urges.

Except for when you couldn’t.

Like now.

You were leaving class when Sunghoon caught your wrist, pulling you into an empty lecture hall.

“What—”

He kissed you before you could finish, his hands already gripping your hips, pressing you against the nearest desk. The kiss was hot, urgent, like he had been holding back all day.

“Wow, I think you missed me a little,” you teased when he finally pulled away, breathless.

Sunghoon scoffed, but his fingers traced the sleeve of your dress like he wasn’t done with you yet. “You should wear this more often.”

You smirked. “What? Hoon, you did not pull me in here just because I’m wearing a dress.”

“It’s a really nice dress,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck. His hand slipped under your dress, squeezing your thighs firmly. When the familiar warmth started creeping up your chest, you held his hand to stop him.

“This is not a good idea,” you told him, smiling at the puppy-like look on his face.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he regretted his own impulse. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then you heard the sound of voices just outside the door.

In an instant, Sunghoon stepped back, running a hand through his hair like nothing had happened. You casually adjusted your dress. When the door creaked open, and a couple of students poked their heads in, you and Sunghoon were already on opposite sides of the room.

“Is this Professor Smith’s class?” one of them asked just as you spotted the same name written on the board in front.

“It is,” you said smoothly, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you strode past Sunghoon without so much as a glance.

Outside, in the open air, you felt his presence behind you, his steps easy and unhurried. As you reached the main path to the quad, he finally passed you, his shoulder brushing yours just slightly.

“See you around,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

You smirked, not looking back. “See you around.”

But even with all of that, you could tell he was drawing a line between you. He didn’t have to say it. You could see it in the way he never texted first, the way he kissed you like he meant it but pulled away too quickly after. The way he made you laugh but never let the moment linger too long.

And maybe you should have done the same.

You didn’t mean to fall for him. You really didn’t. But it was hard not to when, in between the sneaking around and the mind-blowing sex, Sunghoon was just... Sunghoon. Nice and thoughtful in a way that made it almost impossible to keep things casual.

Like when the lightbulb in your room went out, and he arrived at your place with a new one, climbed on a chair, and replaced it himself.

“I was gonna do that, you know,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall, watching him screw the new bulb into place. “I’m just a little busy these days.”

He climbed down, dusting his hands off. “Yeah, but can you even reach that high?”

You rolled your eyes, but when he patted your head like you were some kid, you didn’t swat his hand away. Instead, you found yourself watching him as he moved around your space so easily.

Or the way he always refilled your bedside tumbler before he left your place. You didn’t even notice it at first, but one morning, you woke up, throat dry, and reached for it instinctively—only to realize it was full. Ice-cold. Like he had just topped it off before slipping out.

And then there was the night you were cramming for an exam, drowning in highlighter ink and frustration, when your door swung open, and Sunghoon walked in like he owned the place.

“I’m about to become your favorite person in the world,” he announced, dropping a thick stack of papers on your desk.

You blinked up at him. “What is this?”

“My old notes,” he said, ruffling your hair before plopping onto your bed like he had all the time in the world. “They’re neat. Better than whatever middle school doodles you have going on.”

You flipped through them, and he wasn’t lying—his notes were immaculate. Organized, highlighted, complete with diagrams. You stared at them, then at him, sprawled out on your bed like he had no idea what he’d just done.

“You didn’t strike me as a guy who took his studies seriously,” you teased, although you didn’t really think that way about him.

Sunghoon smirked, turning his head to look at you. “Why? Did you think the only thing I knew how to do was make your legs shake?”

You rolled your eyes, but it didn’t stop the warmth creeping up your chest. “Be real, Hoon. You’re not that good.”

“Liar liar, pants on fire,” he lilted, his eyes shifting back to his phone.

You fell for him because hookups weren’t supposed to be this thoughtful. Hookups weren’t supposed to linger after sex to fix your lightbulb or make sure you stayed hydrated. They weren’t supposed to look after you in ways so small, so casual, that you almost missed them.

You caught yourself wondering. Did he care about you more than just a hookup? Or worse—did you want him to?

You were at a café with your friends when his name came up. 

It started casually enough—half-listening to the conversation while stirring the melting ice in your drink, until one of them, Lily, suddenly said, “Oh, by the way, I saw Sunghoon at your apartment complex the other day. Didn’t know you guys were neighbors.”

Your hand stilled, heartbeat picking up pace at the sudden mention of his name. You blinked once, twice, before mustering up an easy shrug. “Huh. Neither did I.”

Lily laughed, oblivious. “Right? He was coming out of your building. I was gonna say hi, but he looked like he was in a hurry.”

Across the table, Tammy tilted her head. “Maybe he was visiting someone? From what I know, he lives with Jake in a different neighborhood.”

“Maybe,” Lily mused, sipping her drink. Then, as if the thought just occurred to her, she added, “Oh! You and Jenna are neighbors, right?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know any Jenna.”

“Jenna! The girl who won the poll for prettiest student last year!” she explained, her expression turning conspiratorial. “She’s Sunghoon’s ex.”

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

Lily went on, oblivious. “Guess he’s still hoping she’ll take him back.”

The words landed like a slap. You almost asked her to repeat herself, but the way Tammy nodded in understanding told you that you heard right.

“Yeah,” Tammy said. “They were together for two years. I heard he was really sad when they broke up.”

Lily clicked her tongue. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did get back together. They were that couple, you know?”

That couple. The ones who belonged together. The ones who had history, real history—not just stolen moments behind closed doors.

You swallowed, forcing a small smirk. “Didn’t know you guys were keeping up with Sunghoon’s love life like this.”

Lily nodded. “Jenna and I used to hang out when I was still in the council.”

Then she started rambling about their history, how Jenna broke Sunghoon’s heart, how he never really moved on. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but your mind was stuck on every moment you spent with him. The way he pulled you closer in his sleep, how he never let you walk home alone, the way he looked at you sometimes—like maybe you were something more special to him.

But you weren’t. You weren’t the one he wanted. You never were. And just like that, the guessing game was over.

He didn’t want you like you wanted him. You were genuinely just a fling.

Still, you smiled, made some joke that had your friends laughing, and sipped your drink like nothing was wrong. Like your stomach hadn’t just dropped to the floor.

Later, when you saw Sunghoon again—when he let himself into your apartment with that lazy smirk, hands already reaching for you—you didn’t hesitate. You let him touch you, let him kiss you like nothing had changed.

Because for him, nothing had.

And if he didn’t know the difference or couldn’t see the shift, then you sure as hell weren’t going to show him.

Does it make sense to want your ex back and exclusively sleep with someone else? NO.

It was stupid. Sunghoon was stupid. That was what you told yourself every time the thought crossed your mind—every time you caught yourself comparing.

You never voiced it out loud, though. Not to your friends, because Sunghoon was popular, and they’d pry if they knew you were sleeping with him. Not to him, for obvious reasons. And mainly because you had pride. You were the one who said you wouldn’t get attached—the one who laughed at girls who caught feelings for a fling.

But knowing better didn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in.

His ex was his senior, a fine arts major. Pretty. Smart. Talented. One of those girls who just had it. The kind people didn’t get over easily. You told yourself it didn’t matter. If he wanted her back, that was his problem, not yours. It wasn’t like you and Sunghoon were anything.

And so the days with him continued to be easy and light.

You spent more time together, and the more you did, the more you noticed his quirks—his own brand of annoying charm. Like how he always picked up your keys instead of his whenever he left your apartment, or how he liked to roll his sleeves and ruffle his hair absentmindedly.

One evening, lying side by side on your bed, you scrolled through your texts, absentmindedly opening your chat with him. A dozen images filled the screen, almost all of them mirror selfies. Some in elevators, some in his room, one even in a convenience store.

“You like yourself a little too much, don’t you?” you mused, tilting your phone so he could see.

Sunghoon barely glanced at it. “What?”

“These,” you said, scrolling through. “Almost every picture you send me is just you.”

He smirked, resting his head on his arm. “What, you don’t like them?”

You huffed. “You’re hot and you know it, is that it?”

He let out a breathy laugh, rolling onto his side to face you. The glint in his eyes was naughty and suggestive. His next words, even more so: “Would you rather I send you something else?”

He was looking at you like he knew exactly what he was doing, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand.

“Maybe,” you said, feigning deep thought. “Like a cat picture. Or, I don’t know, an interesting rock.”

Sunghoon snorted. “An interesting rock?”

“I like rocks.”

“You’re weird.”

“And you’re a narcissist.”

He only grinned, as if he didn’t mind the label. You shook your head, rolling onto your stomach, but your lips twitched when your phone vibrated a second later.

A picture. Of a rock.

You bit back a smile, and Sunghoon, watching you, caught it anyway.

“What?” he asked, amused.

“Nothing,” you said, tossing your phone aside.

You had never once felt insecure about what you had with Sunghoon, but after what you heard from your friends, you started to notice the little things. It almost seemed like outside the four walls of your apartments, you were nothing to each other.

You used to think he was just a lazy texter. His replies were always short, sometimes delayed, sometimes just emojis. But knowing what you knew now, you wondered if he just wasn’t interested enough.

The thought crept under your skin, making you overthink the things you once brushed off.

Before, when you texted him to come over and he said he couldn’t, you didn’t think much of it. But now? Now, you wondered if he was with her when he wasn’t with you. If he looked at his phone, saw your message, and made a choice.

Yet, you kept crawling back for more.

You were an intelligent woman. You knew this was foolish. You knew how it made you look. But it was fine, because no one else knew how you felt—not your friends, not even Sunghoon himself. It was fine because you were foolish only in your own eyes. There was no need for anyone else to know.

Despite the foolishness of it all, you were happy. You were content enough to be able to spend time with him, to be touched and worshipped by him, to know you had the power to tease out a part of him that not everyone had the privilege to see.

“Sunghoon,” you sighed, fingers pressed against your temple as you looked out of the car window. “We’ve been circling this block for ten minutes.”

You had tagged along with Sunghoon on a quick trip to pick up some pieces for his department’s upcoming art exhibit. It was unplanned. You were outside the campus after class when he spotted you and asked if you wanted to join him. Since you didn’t have anything planned for the day (and because you could never say no to a chance to hang out with him), you got into his car and let him drive without even asking where you were going.

But Sunghoon, as it turned out, had a terrible sense of direction.

“I swear it was supposed to be around here,” he muttered, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping aimlessly at his phone.

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

He shot you a glance, sheepish. “Well, I meant it twenty minutes ago.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your seat, stretching your legs. The map app on his dashboard kept recalculating, rerouting him to roads that either didn’t exist or led straight to nowhere. And when he finally admitted defeat, pulling over to rethink his next move, you both stepped out and realized something.

The ocean was right there.

Waves lapped lazily at the shore, the sky was clear, and the sun was warm but not overbearing—the kind of day that practically begged to be wasted at the beach.

“…Screw the errand?” you offered.

Sunghoon stared at the water for a moment before shrugging. “Screw the errand.”

And just like that, the detour became the destination.

The day unfolded spontaneously. You bought overpriced street food from a vendor by the shore, eating as you walked, laughing when Sunghoon scrunched his nose at the spicy kick of the sauce. He had an annoyingly specific taste in food and the smell, but he still let you shove a piece of yours into his mouth.

You found a little souvenir stand and tried on ridiculous sunglasses, taking pictures of each other in frames shaped like hearts and palm trees. Sunghoon snapped candid shots of you when you weren’t looking, and though you pretended to be annoyed, you never asked him to stop.

At some point, the tide crept in, and you played a round of rock, paper, scissors and dared the loser to get into the water. You weren’t even surprised when you lost. You sucked at this game.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you grumbled, kicking your sandals off. “By myself, no less.”

“Hey, it’s a game. We both agreed to this,” he retorted, stepping back. “And I can’t go in there. I’m wearing jeans.”

“And I’m wearing a skirt,” you countered, already wading in, your hem darkening as the waves reached you.

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, probably wondering if you were actually sulking over a punishment you’d happily agreed to before you lost the game. Of course, you weren’t, but it was fun to tease him and see what he’d do.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said after the scowl never left your face. In a moment of impulsive surrender, he walked straight in after you, the water soaking up his pants. You’re actually unbelievable,” he added, shaking his head as the chill hit him.

You grinned triumphantly, making him brush his hair back in playful exasperation. Then, shaking his head in defeat, he said, “I knew it. It was a farce. You knew I was gonna give in!”

“You fell for it,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t blame me,” you added, flicking water at him.

Sunghoon blinked at you, unimpressed, before flicking some back with just the tips of his fingers.

“Oh, come on,” you taunted. “Is that the best you can do?”

His eyes narrowed slightly—just enough of a warning before he sent a full splash your way, drenching your arms. You gasped, stumbling back with a laugh.

“Oh? So that’s how it’s gonna be?” you shot back, scooping up water with both hands and throwing it right at his chest.

He retaliated, sending another wave toward you, and suddenly it was war. One splash turned into another, then another, until you were both breathless, clothes sticking to your skin, hair a mess.

Sunghoon pushed his dripping bangs back with a huff. “This is your fault,” he said, smiling his usual warm and blinding smile—the smile that made his eyes crinkle, the smile that revealed dimples carving deep into his cheeks, the smile that could make anyone think Sunghoon had never forced a grin in his life.

He was beautiful, and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper, with no way out. You were falling so deep that it made your heart ache a little—the way you liked him, the way you wanted him to be yours, the way you wished today could last forever.

As the sky started to turn amber, you collapsed onto the sand, watching the sun lower itself into the horizon.

The waves rolled in, steady and endless, curling at the shore. The air smelled of salt, and the golden glow of the sunset painted the world majestically. You sat side by side, talking and laughing about random things, content to share the warmth of a single jacket.

Then, somewhere between the soothing sound of the waves and the silly jokes, the conversation drifted deeper.

You talked about things you never had before—about college, about dreams and ambitions, about the way people always say you’ll just know when something is right.

“How do you know for sure that that’s what you wanted to pursue?” he asked while you were tracing idle patterns in the sand. “What if you think you know, but when you get to the end of it, you realize it was the wrong choice?”

You looked out into the ocean, tilting your head slightly, considering. “I didn’t really know it was the right choice. I don’t think anyone ever really knows,” you admitted. “Not in the moment, at least. Maybe you just choose something, and later, that choice becomes the right one.”

You turned to look at him only to find out he already had his eyes on you. The admiration in his gaze was subtle, but it was there. Seeing that made your heart trip over itself, it made you forget, for just a second, that this wasn’t real.

And when he leaned in, when his eyes flickered to your lips and your breath caught, you stopped thinking. You knew what was coming. You knew he was about to kiss you, but somehow, for some reason, this time felt different. Like this kiss was gonna determine a major point in your relationship.

But before anything could happen, Sunghoon’s phone rang, jolting you both out of the trance. You both looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat like you’d caught yourself doing something you shouldn’t. Which was ridiculous because you’d done nothing but kiss him in the past few months.

Sunghoon cleared his throat as he picked up his phone on the sand then answered the call with a quiet, “Yeah?”

It was the committee for the exhibit and you watched him talk on the phone for the next few minutes, explaining what had happened and why he couldn’t finish the errand. By the time he hung up, the sky had darkened completely, and the air had turned crisp.

“It’s late,” he said, brushing sand off his hands. “You okay with crashing at my place?”

You blinked. “Your place?”

“Our old family house. It’s not far from here.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged. “Sure.”

The car ride was quiet, thick with the tension that had been ignited by the near-kiss at the beach. Neither of you spoke, but your gazes met every now and then—quick glances, fleeting and heated, before darting away like you hadn’t been caught.

Sunghoon was the first to break. His hand drifted from the wheel, finding your thigh in the dim glow of the dashboard, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. He squeezed, testing, and when you didn’t stop him, he grew bolder, pushing the hem of your dress up just enough to feel the warmth of your skin. His fingers traced your skin with slow, deliberate strokes, inching higher into your inner thighs and lightly brushing your sex.

The heat of his touch burned through you. While you sat there feeling hotter as your heartbeat hammered wildly in your chest, he remained composed and quiet, his face unreadable save for the occasional twitch of his jaw. He kept his eyes on the road, but the way the car gradually picked up speed as he stepped harder on the gas told you everything you needed to know.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter until the car rolled to a stop in their driveway. He exhaled sharply, as if regaining control of himself before stepping out and opening the door for you like nothing was out of the ordinary. 

The lock to their house’s main entrance clicked, the door creaked open, and the second you stepped inside, all restraints snapped.

You barely had a moment to take in the house before his hands were on you, pulling you in, mouths crashing in a kiss that was desperate, needy, and greedy. He backed you into the foyer, hands mapping the curve of your waist, and the shape of your hips.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling, tugging, holding on for dear life as the heat of his touch woke something primal in you. He barely broke the kiss as he guided you further inside, not caring where you ended up as long as you got there together. You went past the foyer and the living room, but all you felt was the press of his body, the way he kissed you with the kind of hunger that made your head spin.

He pushed a door open, urging you inside but you hesitated, pulse hammering.

“Sunghoon,” you breathed between kisses, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “Your parents—”

“They’re not home.” His voice was low, steady, but his eyes burned through yours.

You barely had a second to process before he kissed you again, silencing every last doubt as he pushed you inside the door he had just opened. When he clicked the lights on, the glow of a bathroom light flickered on, reflecting off the tiles and the mirror above the sink.

“Figured you’d hate the taste of the sea on my skin,” he murmured, grinning as his fingers grazed your hip. You were suddenly reminded of the saltwater clinging to your skin, and the sand on your legs, remnants of the day you’d spent together.

You swallowed, nodding. But the moment he lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, you knew washing up wasn’t gonna be the only thing happening in here. 

You shamelessly ogled him—his bare skin, damp from sweat and seawater, and his lean build with well-defined muscles that you’d seen several times before but still found alluring. He caught you staring and smirked, stepping closer, close enough that his fingers found the buttons of your top.

“Did you know I’m good with buttons?” he asked softly, making you giggle.

“Yeah. I’ve seen your skills,” you said, watching him.

His fingers were deft, undoing your buttons slowly, teasingly. When he was done, he gently tugged it off, letting it fall on the floor. His hands didn’t leave you, though. They skimmed down your arms, and your waist, examining every curve like he had it memorized and wanted to see if anything was different.

The next thing you knew, warm water was cascading over your bodies, steam enveloping you in the small space. The spray soaked your hair, trailing down your spine, but you barely noticed because Sunghoon was there—his hands smoothing over your skin, his lips brushing against your shoulder, your jaw, his canines grazing your skin ever so slightly.

“We’re supposed to be washing up,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

“We are,” he murmured, his fingers sliding down your stomach, inching lower. “Just making sure we’re doing it thoroughly.”

You let out a quiet laugh, but it faded into a sigh when he pressed you back against the cool tiles, his mouth finding yours again. He didn’t stay for long, lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, all the way to your chest where his kisses turned a little more intense. He sucked and squeezed, sending a pleasant ripple through your body that made you arch forward for more. The water drowned out the sound of your quiet moans, the warmth of his mouth making every touch feel more heady, more intoxicating.

When did he take off his pants? You didn’t even notice until he pressed his body against yours and you felt his manhood pulsating against your torso, hot and raging. He kissed your lips again, shoving his tongue inside as his breathing turned rougher.

“Turn around,” he rasped in your ear, and you obliged, finding yourself face-to-face with your own reflection.

You pressed your hands against the glass, your entire body tingling with anticipation as he positioned himself behind you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your neck as you felt his tip prodding your pussy.

“Look at you,” he whispered, biting your ear. “Do you have any idea how you drive me crazy all the damn time?”

You were about to respond when he pushed himself inside you, making you let out a throaty gasp instead. Sunghoon stayed still, shushing you gently and kissing your shoulder.

“It’s alright. We’ve done this before,” he chimed and you could see him smirking in your reflection. 

“You’re used to this, right?” he asked, moving delicately so you could properly adjust to his length and girth. “Right, baby?” he asked again, and the lilt in his voice made you close your eyes and nod.

“That’s right. You said you love it, didn’t you?” 

You could only let out a deep sigh, tilting your head back. “Yes, Hoon. I love it,” you whispered back.

“Good. I know you do,” he chimed, gently bending you forward. “I know you’ll love this too,” he added before his hands settled on your waist and he started thrusting into you.

His pace was urgent, with enough force to make your knees weak each time he slammed into you. You didn’t even bother to stifle your moans anymore, letting them out completely, not caring if there were neighbors nearby who might hear you. You were lightheaded with lust, spiraling into the titillating euphoria that Sunghoon never once failed to deliver. Your entire being came alive and you were so caught up in it that you didn’t even notice your knees buckling underneath your weight.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened as he helped keep you up, pulling out to give you a quick break and to turn you face-to-face with him again. His grin was unmistakable, pleased to see your fucked-out expression. “So so beautiful,” he said, sweeping your hair out of your face.

He pressed you against the cool tiles, his lips crashing onto yours, urgency overtaking everything else. You gasped when his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you against him. The water poured over his shoulders, down your back, as he moved with reckless need, his breath ragged against your ear. 

“More, Hoon. Please, more,” you pleaded, as if he wasn’t already ramming mercilessly into you making every nerve in your body dance in pleasure.

“You’re so horny for me,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers gripping your thighs as he lifted you against him. “Can’t even wait till we got to the bed, huh?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed into you, the heat of the shower only amplifying the sensation. “This was your idea,” you whispered, but it came out shaky, wrecked.

He chuckled, low and deep. “I know. But you want this too, don’t you?” he said, voice smooth as his lips traced down your throat. “You want me so bad. You’re begging me for more, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t answer—not in words, at least. But when you tightened your grip around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin, he took it as confirmation.

“That’s it,” he groaned, rolling his hips into yours. “Come on, baby. Let me hear you.”

You whimpered when he hit a delicious spot, holding onto him tighter. “Hoon, you fuck so good.”

He grunted, spurred on by your admission. He was fast, desperate—like he couldn’t get enough, like he had to claim every inch of you right then and there. When he finally tipped over the edge, dragging you down with him, he held you through it, his lips pressing on your temple as your body trembled in his arms.

The moment was fleeting, but the desire didn’t leave just yet. You could still feel it in his touch even as he set you back on your feet. The moment you stepped out of the shower, Sunghoon grabbed a towel, barely bothering to dry you properly before he lifted you off your feet, carrying you out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and into what you only assumed was his bedroom.

This time, there was no rush.

He laid you down, his hands smoothing over your skin, his touch softer now, more reverent. “Look at you,” he murmured, eyes tracing over every inch of you, dark with something more than just lust. “So pretty. So perfect for me.”

Your breath came uneven as he leaned down, pressing slow, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down your chest, lower—each one dragging a gasp from your lips.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered against your skin.

“You,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah?” He kissed the corner of your mouth, teasing. “Then take me,” he added, just before he filled you up again.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent, or desperate. It was slow, deep, and overwhelming in the most delightful way. He kept his forehead pressed to yours, breath warm against your face, whispering in between kisses.

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” he murmured, moving languidly. “You feel so good. You’re taking me so well.”

Every whispered praise sent shivers down your spine, made you cling to him even tighter, and made the pleasure build until it was unbearable.

The night was young and it was not gonna end just yet. And so the hours blurred into moments of euphoric highs, fleeting clarity, and intense need to ravage and be ravaged. His name was the only thing you could say—over and over—until you were both left breathless, tangled together in the sheets, completely undone.

In the morning, you probably wouldn’t remember every detail of tonight, but you’d remember this—remember the way his hands felt on your skin, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. In the dim glow of Sunghoon’s bedroom, your fingers tangled in his damp hair, lips swollen from too many kisses, you let yourself forget. Forget the rules. Forget that this was never supposed to feel like more. Just for tonight, he was yours, and you were his.

The morning light streamed in through the sheer curtains, hurting your eyes a little. You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented, until the scent of Sunghoon’s shampoo on your skin and the warmth of the bed beneath you reminded you where you were.

You turned over to find him already awake, his arm tucked behind his head as he looked at you with a lazy smile. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

His fingers skimmed down your arm. “You’re cute when you sleep.”

A slow blink. Then, a scoff. “Liar.”

“It’s true.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as his gaze flickered down to your lips. “You drool a little, though.”

You smacked his arm. “I do not.”

His laughter was low and teasing, as he caught your wrist then tugged you closer. His body was warm against yours, and his breath was even warmer as he kissed the curve of your neck.

“We should get up,” you said, but neither of you moved.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his soft kisses trailing down to your shoulder. “In a bit,” he added before reaching to cup your cheek and kiss your lips.

One thing led to another and suddenly, you were underneath him again, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t bear to be apart.

The morning air was cool, but his hands were warm as they skimmed down your waist, his touch slow, and smooth. 

“You’re insatiable,” he murmured against your lips, smiling when you shivered under him.

“So are you,” you whispered back, running your fingers through his hair.

He hummed, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. “Guess we’re even, then.”

His hands slid over your bare skin, his touch reverent. He kissed you deeply, guiding you through the lazy tangle of limbs and soft gasps, dragging it out like he had all the time in the world.

By the time you finally got out of bed, Sunghoon had already dug through his closet, tossing you an old hoodie and some sweatpants. You pulled them on and followed him down the quiet hallway.

The house felt still—too still. Only then did you notice the dust gathering on the bookshelves, the faint scent of time in the air.

“This place has been empty for a while now,” Sunghoon said casually from behind you when he noticed you looking around. “My family moved a few months ago to take care of my grandparents.”

Your brows lifted. “So no one lives here?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I come by sometimes. I technically still live here, I'm just not here often.”

That made sense. There was something about the house—it felt untouched, frozen in time, like stepping into a memory. You walked further into the hall, your fingers grazing along the walls and stopping at the framed photographs hanging there.

You studied them, tilting your head. Sunghoon as a kid, bright-eyed and grinning, a missing tooth on full display. A younger version of him on a skating rink, mid-game, frozen in motion. Another picture—him and his family, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, and several of him in a skating rink, different poses, taken in the middle of a routine.

“You skate?”

Sunghoon smiled, standing beside you and looking up at the photos. “Used to. I was in the national team for a while.”

“Why did you stop?” you asked glancing up at him and seeing the reminiscent look on his face.

He simply shrugged. “I had to be realistic. I enjoyed the sport but I couldn’t see myself doing it for a long time.”

You bit back a smile. “You were kind of adorable.”

Sunghoon scoffed, stepping up behind you. “I still am.”

“Debatable.”

He tugged at your hoodie—his hoodie—pulling the hood over your head before nodding toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”

The drive back to the city was uneventful, the radio playing softly in the background. Sunghoon’s hand rested on the wheel, his other lazily draped over your thigh, tracing absentminded patterns through the fabric of his sweatpants that you were still wearing. You were talking, laughing, stealing quick glances at him between songs on the stereo.

At some point, he cleared his throat. “So… what are you doing later?”

“I have a group project.” You groaned, leaning back against the seat. “I’m meeting up with my classmates later.”

“Right. Group project.” He nodded slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Sounds boring.”

“It is,” you huffed. “Why’d you ask?”

“No reason.” His eyes stayed fixed on the road, but you caught the way his grip on the wheel tightened just slightly. A second passed before he spoke again, this time even more nonchalant. “What about tomorrow?”

You tilted your head. “Tomorrow? I’m not sure. Just classes, I think.” You turned to him, raising a brow. “Why?”

“Do you wanna grab lunch with me tomorrow?”

You stared at him for a moment, then grinned teasingly. “Are you asking me out on a date, Park Sunghoon?”

His ears turned the faintest shade of pink, but he scoffed like the idea was ridiculous. “I’m just saying we should get lunch.”

“Mmm.” You pretended to think. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“It’s not a date.”

You scoffed in playful exasperation. “Dude, I was naked on top of you last night and a couple of other nights before. Surely we’re way past shy invitations for lunch dates?”

“I’m asking you to eat.” He paused, then added with a tilt of his head, “But if you wanna call it a date, that’s fine too. Labels are overrated.”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Hm. I guess I’ll allow it.”

Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Good. It’s settled then,” he said, stopping at a red light.

He leaned over to kiss you, catching you off guard but only for a moment. You kissed him back, albeit a little confused. When he pulled away, he was wearing a proud smirk on his face and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he asked, shifting the gear as the light turned green again. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it to his lips.

One hour later, you reached your apartment complex, but had to you stay a few more minutes in his car because he couldn’t seem to get enough of you, kissing and touching right there in the parking lot. You had to forcefully push him away and remind him that you had classes and important stuff to attend to. Even then, he was reluctant to let you go.

After a dramatic goodbye that had him pouting as he drove away, you climbed up the building with a sickening grin on your face. You unlocked your door, stepping inside with a lightness in your chest, breathing in the familiar smell of your home. 

The past few days had been a rollercoaster for you, with all the guessing and expectations and disappointments. But now, you were feeling much lighter, much happier. The good days with Sunghoon were all you could think of, playing back in flashes—the sound of his laugh in your space, the weight of his arm over your waist in the morning, the smell of his skin at night, the way he always left the bathroom mirror fogged up because he took ridiculously hot showers.

Tossing your bag onto the couch, you leaned against the door for a moment, smiling to yourself. Sunghoon was nice, but he always drew an invisible line. Not this time. You could tell by the way he held you this morning, the way he was reluctant to part from you, and how he’d asked to hang out with you for lunch—outside, in public. It felt like, for once, you both wanted the same thing. No second-guessing, no mixed signals—you were finally moving the same direction.

Your gaze drifted to the hoodie he’d left draped over the chair, his specs on your nightstand, and the half-empty tumbler beside it—subtle proofs that he’d started leaving pieces of himself behind. You wondered if he even realized it.

And more than that, you wondered where this would go next.

The next morning, you woke up too early. Way too early.

You groaned into your pillow, rolling onto your back as you stared at the ceiling. It was ridiculous. You’d seen Sunghoon plenty of times before—hung out, spent nights together, and shared more than just passing glances. But the idea of today, of a proper lunch date, had you wide awake before the sun was even fully up. Maybe it was because, for once, you weren’t just meeting up in the comfort of your apartment or his. It would be something different. Something real.

You giggled at the thought, covering your face with your blanket and then flailing your arms and legs. 

Admitting that to yourself felt embarrassing, so you dragged yourself out of bed and decided to be productive. If you were going to be up this early, you might as well make the most of it.

A jog around the neighborhood. A quick stop at the store. And before you knew it, you were back in your apartment, unpacking groceries and deciding, on a whim, to actually cook breakfast. When was the last time you did that? You couldn’t even remember.

By the time you arrived on campus, you were still riding the high of a morning well-spent. Your good mood didn’t go unnoticed—your friends picked up on it immediately, teasing you about the extra bounce in your step. You brushed them off with the excuse of getting enough sleep, but they weren’t wrong. Everything just felt lighter today.

Even classes didn’t seem so unbearable. You participated. You took notes. You weren’t counting down the minutes to leave—well, not exactly. But the closer lunchtime got, the more restless you became, checking your phone every so often even though you knew you were the only one keeping track of time this obsessively.

Then, just as you were leaving your last morning class, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon: Hey pretty. Something came up. I can’t do lunch today. I’m sorry. Sunghoon: I’ll make it up to you later tonight, okay?

Your steps slowed, but you kept moving, staring at the text longer than necessary.

Bummed. That was the best way to describe it. You weren’t mad—plans get canceled all the time, and at least he let you know ahead of time—but disappointment still settled in the pit of your stomach. You took a breath, shook it off, and responded with a simple, It’s fine. See you later.

Lunch with your friends helped a little. You laughed, caught up on random gossip, and even let them drag you to a café afterward. You weren’t dwelling on it. Really, you weren’t.

Until you stepped out of the café and saw him. Sunghoon, standing outside the campus gates. And he wasn’t alone. 

Jenna was with him.

You stopped in your tracks, heart lurching in a way you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t just that he was there, but the way he was standing close to her, the way she was talking, nudging his arm like she had every right to be in his space.

Sunghoon must have felt someone staring at him because he glanced your way and saw you. His eyes brightened in recognition, and he greeted you casually, like nothing was out of the ordinary. But you didn’t even know how to react. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. You walked past him, barely sparing a glance, pretending as if you weren’t close. As if he was just someone you barely knew.

Your friends who saw that were confused, following behind you after quick greetings to both Sunghoon and Jenna. 

Tammy caught up to you, nudged your arm, and asked, “Where are you running off to after ignoring Sunghoon like that?”

“I wasn’t ignoring anyone,” you muttered.

“You totally were,” Lily chimed in, linking arms with you as she leaned to speak in a quieter voice. “That’s so fishy. What’s going on?”

You didn’t respond, your mind too muddled to even try and come up with a good answer. As you rounded the corner, your phone buzzed a second later.

Sunghoon: Hey. What was that?

You ignored it, as well as the other messages that followed. 

The rest of the afternoon slipped through your fingers in a haze of self-pity. You curled up on the couch, aimlessly flipping through movies, but nothing got your attention. The voices blurred together, scenes passed without meaning. You weren’t devastated. You weren’t heartbroken. You were just... mad. Annoyed that after everything, after how good things had been, this was what it came down to. But getting worked up wouldn’t do anything. So, you forced yourself to let it go. 

Or at least, you tried. It was impossible when he kept creeping into your thoughts—his voice, his touch, the way he looked at you just yesterday—like he wanted this as much as you did.

You didn’t even realize you had dozed off until the sound of your phone ringing jolted you awake.

You blinked against the glow of the screen. Sunghoon.

For a moment, you stared at his name, your heartbeat loud in the quiet of your apartment. You could ignore it. You could let it ring out and pretend you were still asleep. You could put an end to this charade, to tell him you were done and sick of it. But you didn’t.

You answered. His voice was gentle, cautious. “Can I come over?”

You should say no. You should end this here and now. Enough is enough. But… “Yeah. Of course,” you said, trying your best to sound normal.

Half an hour later, he was in your apartment, hands on you, lips on yours, familiar and desperate. And, as always, you let him in—physically, emotionally, despite knowing better. You let yourself believe that maybe, for just a little longer, this could be enough.

Afterward, you slipped out of bed, padding into the bathroom to wash up. By the time you returned, the room was dark, the only source of light was coming from Sunghoon’s phone on the nightstand. He was already asleep, his breathing even, his body sprawled across your sheets like he belonged there.

You reached for the blanket to pull it over him when his phone buzzed, the screen glowing against the dim light. Your gaze flickered to it, drawn by instinct.

Jenna calling...

Your chest tightened at the name. For a moment, you just stood there, watching the name flash across the screen before it faded into darkness. You could answer it. You could see what she wanted, hear her voice, and confirm everything you had been trying so hard to ignore.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you climbed into bed, curling up beside Sunghoon, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You knew what you had to do. Knew that when he woke up, this had to end for good.

But not yet.

For now, while he was still yours—warm, close, familiar—you let yourself have this one last moment. You closed your eyes and pretended everything was okay, even though you knew exactly what tomorrow would bring.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. The space beside you was cold. 

It was over.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. You had spent the night convincing yourself that you were ready for this, ready to end things, but the second you woke up to find him gone, the ache in your chest became unbearable.

Tears welled up before you could stop them. You curled into yourself, pressing your face against the pillow, sobbing into the fabric as if that could somehow muffle the sound. This wasn’t supposed to hurt. You weren’t supposed to grieve something that was never really yours. But you did.

You let yourself fall apart, mourning what could have been, whispering prayers into the silence that it didn’t have to end this way.

And then the door creaked open. You gasped, jolting up, eyes red and blurry as Sunghoon stepped into the room, holding your tumbler in his hand. 

His brows furrowed at the sight of you, eyes widening in alarm. “What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing to your side, setting the tumbler down before cupping your face and wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Hey—why are you crying?”

You shook your head, unable to form words. He pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you as you sobbed against him. He didn’t ask any more questions. He just held you, rubbing your back, shushing you gently even though he didn’t understand what had you so upset.

After a long moment, you finally managed to choke out, “I thought you were gone.”

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, blinking at you in confusion. Then, to your utter annoyance, he started laughing.

“What do you mean, gone?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I literally just went to shower and get you some water.”

You smacked his arm, your face burning. “Don’t laugh at me, you jerk!”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he said, though he was definitely still laughing.

Something about his amusement made you snap. Maybe it was the pent-up emotions, or maybe it was the fact that you had nothing left to lose—but suddenly, everything came spilling out.

You confessed it all.

How you weren’t supposed to catch feelings, but you did. How you tried to push them down, to ignore them, but they never really went away. How you had spent so long pretending to be fine with this casual arrangement, knowing deep down that you weren’t. How much it crushed you to think that he was trying to win Jenna back, how much it hurt when he canceled on you, and how stupid you felt for letting yourself get so attached.

Sunghoon stared at you, utterly dumbfounded.

You sniffled, swallowing back the last of your tears. “Well? Say something.”

And then, to your horror, he started laughing again.

Your stomach twisted. “Are you kidding me right now?”

But before you could shove him away, he grabbed your face and kissed you. Hard.

Your breath hitched, but you melted into it, gripping his shirt as he kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment all along. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice quieter now. “I like you,” he admitted. “A lot.”

You opened your mouth, but he kept going. “You’re fun, you don’t take my shit, and you get me in a way that most people don’t. I’m always looking forward to seeing you. To hearing whatever sarcastic thing you were gonna say next. To just… being with you.”

“Then why—”

“I wasn’t with Jenna because of what you think.” His hands slid down to hold yours, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “There was an accident with the exhibit setup, and I had to be there. She just happened to walk out with me.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And the part where you’re trying to get back with her?”

Sunghoon made a face. “Where did you even hear that?”

You hesitated before mumbling, “A mutual friend.”

He huffed. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I don’t know!” You did, but you weren’t about to admit that you didn’t want to seem like you were expecting too much from him—like you were demanding something that was never part of your deal.

Sunghoon sighed, squeezing your hands. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but I only have eyes for you.” His lips quirked. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t realize how much I liked you at first, but ever since we started this, I haven’t thought about anyone else.”

Your heart stuttered.

Then he smirked. “I thought we had an understanding. Did we really need a label for it?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Right. Labels are overrated.”

Sunghoon kissed you deeply, and this time, you returned it with the same amount of sweet abandon. Then he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he murmured. “And right now, I’m wondering if you’d wanna be mine too.”

You let out a sharp breath, your chest tightening at his words. For a second, you just stared at him—his dark eyes searching yours, his expression completely open, completely vulnerable.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head with an exasperated laugh.

“For fuck's sake, Sunghoon.” You squeezed his hands, tugging him just a little closer. “I’m already yours.”

His lips crashed into yours before you could say anything else, stealing the last of your breath, and this time, you didn’t hold anything back.

[fin]

[blueberry016]

I took computers as an elective back in 8th grade specifically because I figured it'd be a more involved elective than my old school's elementary computer class. Nope; it was just as easy; and I was spending the good majority of my hours there doing fuck all because I finished early. Now; this class was hosted using Google Classroom; which also let me check in and do assignments earlier than intended. And me; being a kid who was tempted by the forbidden fruit of getting through a class months earlier than intended - went for it, and started doing assignments meant for the week ahead in one sitting. Fast forward to halfway through the class. I am months ahead of everybody else; but I've yet to complete the class as a whole for some reason. I go to check why; and what I see's fuckin' absurd. The assignment? To change my profile picture. One of the first assignments ever handed out in class; and one I knocked out immediately, or so I figured. Turns out; no. The teacher SPECIFICALLY noted that the change wasn't valid because I didn't run the image through the specific filter website she wanted us to use before uploading it.

Now; to any teenager or adult who knows their goddamn worth in their field: that reasoning reeks of bullshit. But I comply; begrudgingly, running it through the website and uploading it. The teacher still refuses to mark the assignment as done; after a few day's work. It's at this point I realized I was being deliberately neutered; in hindsight to not threaten the school's metrics. And I; being the shithead child I was - decided there was only one logical solution. Confront her over it in the middle of class. She doubled down; claiming the assignment somehow still wasn't valid; and I just fuckin'. Snapped; then and there; done with her bullshit. Five words came out of my mouth. "I wish I could slap you." As you can imagine; administration quickly got involved with her screeching about this. I was threatened with suspension; I THINK expulsion was tossed around once; while my mom scrambled to pick up the pieces of what the hell everything was about. Once she heard my side of things; though; it was very clear she knew the school was high on their own supply as well. Luckily for my dumbass; there was a bit of a "smoking gun" that made them shrivel up and backpeddle on making me out as a pariah. The communication about refusing to grade the one assignment was one thing; but what the district had a harder time weaseling out of was direct confirmation over email that this teacher went out of her way to ignore my IEP; which she was directly informed of. Rest of that semester I didn't have a class for that hour; and administration very clearly wanted me anywhere but the hallway she was in. Bonus: The middle child; my little brother; hit middle school a few years ago. Someone who either was ignorant of all of this or just didn't care decided to throw him into this teacher's homeroom class, which prompted my mom to pull rank with the admin again to switch things up to prevent any retaliatory funny business. She was not punished for any of this; best as we can tell.

when i was a kid i got a 90% on my kindergarten "what are your favorite things?" test because for the question "what is your favorite animal?" i wrote down "puma" and it got marked wrong because my teacher said a puma isnt even an animal its a kind of shoe

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Teacher's Pet Baby

Safe

Cg!Professor!Wanda Maximoff x little!student!reader

Summary: Wanda's voice lulls you to sleep while she's on the phone

Word Count: 592

Warnings: Age regression, fluff and comfort

Authors notes: This was a wala request here

The semester was finally over for you and you found yourself happily living with Wanda during the break. Just cause it was over for you doesn't mean she gets much of a break though. She's been working hard on next semester's classes. You were happy to be taking another class with her; abnormal developmental psychology. You weren't thinking about that though or much of anything at the moment as Wanda had let you crawl into her lap as she sat at her desk.

Wanda’s fingers never stopped moving, typing away as she worked through lesson plans and student evaluations. You had found comfort curled up in her lap, your head resting against her chest while she absentmindedly traced soothing patterns down your back. The rhythmic sound of her keystrokes mixed with the occasional sip of coffee created a lull that left you feeling weightless, barely clinging to wakefulness.

Then, the sudden ring of her phone jolted you, pulling you out of your relaxed haze. Your body tensed instinctively, your breath hitching as you tried to ground yourself.

“Oh, Malyshka, shh, it’s okay, you’re safe,” Wanda murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as she reached for her phone. Her voice was soft, soothing, instantly pulling you back into the warmth of her embrace.

She answered without checking the caller ID, her fingers gently combing through your hair as she spoke. “Hello?”

A familiar voice came through the speaker, deep and matter-of-fact. “Wanda. Glad I caught you.”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Wanda rolled her eyes, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “Hello to you too, Stephen,” she replied, her tone playfully dry.

Dr. Strange was well-known on campus—not just for being a renowned neurosurgeon before shifting to academia, but also for his sharp wit and no-nonsense approach to teaching. He and Wanda had developed a rapport over the years, exchanging insights on their respective fields, often challenging each other’s perspectives.

“I wanted to run something by you. I know you're teaching Abnormal Developmental Psych next semester, and I have a few students from my Neurophysiology class who might benefit from a bit of cross-discipline collaboration.”

Wanda hummed thoughtfully, shifting slightly in her seat. You barely registered the movement, already sinking back into the warmth of her arms.

“That could be interesting,” she mused, her fingers still absently rubbing small circles into your back. “What kind of collaboration are we talking about?”

“Guest lectures, joint discussions—maybe even a case study or two.”

You were barely listening now, your body melting further into her as your breathing slowed. The steady rise and fall of her chest, the soft vibrations of her voice against your cheek, the warmth of her touch—it was pulling you under, lulling you back toward sleep.

You barely registered her saying, “I’d have to look at my schedule, but I like the idea.”

Dr. Strange said something else, but it was distant, unimportant. Your eyelids grew heavier, your grip on awareness slipping.

Wanda’s voice softened, as if sensing how close you were to sleep. “I’ll email you later, Stephen. I have something very important in my arms right now.”

There was a brief pause before Strange chuckled. “Say no more. Enjoy your break, Wanda.”

“You too,” she murmured, ending the call.

You felt her shift, her arms tightening slightly as she pressed another kiss to your temple. “Sleep, Malyshka,” she whispered, her voice dripping with affection.

And just like that, you let go, drifting into the warmth and safety of her embrace.

[princesseilish]

BLOOD MOON .2

Vampire!Paige x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, stalking, obsession

Synopsis: paige's obsession with you is starting to crack, will you let her bite you?

CHAPTER THREE

Paige didn’t go home that night.

She couldn’t.

Not when every cell in her body screamed to go back.

To linger outside Y/N’s building. To listen for the steady rhythm of her heart, to inhale the scent that clung to the air, to watch through the window and make sure—make sure—she was safe.

Instead, she forced herself to move.

To run.

To get away.

The trees blurred as she moved through the forest beyond campus, too fast for human eyes to track, her breath sharp, her body burning.

Hunger had always been a part of her existence, but never like this.

Never this consuming.

Because this wasn’t just hunger.

This was something worse.

Something deeper.

Something she had never felt before.

And it terrified her.

She kept her distance for three days.

It was agonizing.

Paige had spent decades perfecting patience—honing her self-control, making sure she never gave in to impulse.

But this wasn’t just impulse.

This was need.

This was a pull stronger than anything she had ever fought against.

And on the fourth day, she lost.

She found Y/N in the library, tucked away in the corner of the second floor, books stacked high beside her, pen tapping absently against her notebook.

Paige shouldn’t have been able to hear her heartbeat from across the room.

But she could.

And it was the only thing she could focus on as she approached.

Y/N didn’t notice her until she sat down, the sudden presence making her blink up in surprise.

“…Hey?”

Paige smirked. “Hey.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she was processing something. “You disappeared.”

Paige leaned back in her chair, feigning ease despite the tension coiling beneath her skin. “Miss me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Paige caught the subtle shift in her expression—recognition.

Like she had noticed the absence.

Like she had felt it.

Paige wanted to grin.

Instead, she tilted her head. “You studying for something?”

Y/N exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face. “LSAT.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was next semester.”

“It is,” Y/N said. “But I don’t like feeling unprepared.”

Paige hummed, gaze flickering over the mess of notes. “Let me guess. You’ve read every case study from the past twenty years?”

Y/N smirked. “Try fifty.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Of course you have.”

She watched as Y/N stretched, the hem of her sweater riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin.

Paige clenched her jaw.

Look away.

But she didn’t.

Didn’t want to.

Y/N sighed, rolling her shoulders. “I need coffee.”

Paige was already standing before she could move. “I got it.”

Y/N blinked. “You don’t have to—”

Paige shot her a look. “What do you want?”

Y/N studied her for a second, then sighed. “Black. No sugar.”

Paige smirked. “Figures.”

She walked away before Y/N could respond, every step a relief from the proximity—because if she had stayed any longer, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to stop herself from touching her.

The feeling didn’t go away.

Even as she stood in line, even as she inhaled the scent of roasted espresso and vanilla, even as she wrapped her hands around the coffee cup and turned back toward the library—

She could still feel Y/N.

Still crave her.

And Paige was beginning to realize the truth.

She had spent so long convincing herself that she could resist.

That she was stronger than this.

That she wouldn’t let herself fall.

But the cracks were already

Paige took her time walking back to the table.

She had to.

Because if she didn’t, if she let herself move too quickly, she knew she’d give something away.

Her hands clenched around the coffee cup, the warmth grounding her—keeping her tethered to something real, something human, when all she wanted to do was give in.

Y/N had always been a quiet presence in her life.

A slow, steady pull.

But now?

Now, she was a gravity well.

An unavoidable force.

And Paige was falling.

Y/N glanced up as Paige set the coffee down in front of her.

“Thanks.”

Her fingers brushed against Paige’s hand—just for a second, just a whisper of contact—

But it was enough.

Paige clenched her jaw, forcing herself to pull away, forcing herself to pretend that one single touch hadn’t sent a bolt of hunger ripping through her like wildfire.

She dropped back into her chair, watching as Y/N took a slow sip of her coffee.

The air between them shifted.

Y/N tilted her head, studying her. “You okay?”

Paige smirked, masking the way her pulse hammered against her ribs. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she watched.

And Paige felt it—felt the weight of that gaze, the sharpness of it, like Y/N was peeling her apart layer by layer.

Paige didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Then—

“You always seem calm,” Y/N said slowly, fingers tracing absent patterns along the rim of her cup. “Like nothing gets to you.”

Paige arched a brow. “Is that your professional opinion?”

Y/N smirked, shaking her head. “It’s just an observation.”

Paige hummed, drumming her fingers against the table. “And what do you think would get to me?”

Y/N held her gaze for a long moment.

Then—softly, deliberately—

“I don’t know yet.”

Paige swallowed.

Again with that word.

That damn word.

And suddenly, the space between them felt smaller.

Tighter.

More dangerous.

Paige should have pulled back.

She knew that.

But instead, she leaned in. Just slightly. Just enough to watch the way Y/N’s breath hitched, the way her lips parted, the way—

Her phone buzzed.

The moment shattered.

Y/N blinked, looking away as she reached for her phone, glancing at the screen.

Paige forced herself to exhale.

Forced herself to breathe.

She was losing her grip.

And if she wasn’t careful, Y/N was going to be the one to notice first.

The night was cold when they finally left the library.

Paige had insisted on walking Y/N home again.

She didn’t trust anyone else to.

Y/N shoved her hands into her pockets, exhaling into the crisp air. “You’re doing it again.”

Paige arched a brow. “Doing what?”

Y/N glanced at her, smirking. “Pretending you’re not paying attention.”

Paige chuckled. “I always pay attention.”

Y/N hummed. “I know.”

Paige glanced at her, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. “You like that?”

Y/N hesitated.

Just for a second.

And Paige saw it.

The uncertainty. The curiosity.

Then, quietly—

“…Maybe.”

Paige inhaled sharply, her throat going dry, her restraint fracturing all over again.

She needed to leave.

She needed to turn around and walk away before she did something reckless.

But she didn’t.

Because Y/N was still standing there, watching her like she wanted to understand.

Like she wanted Paige to give something away.

Paige clenched her fists at her sides.

She had spent decades controlling herself.

And yet—

Here, now, with Y/N looking at her like this—

She had never felt closer to breaking.

Paige didn’t walk away.

She should have.

But Y/N was right there, standing in the dim glow of the streetlamp, breath visible in the cold air, eyes steady and waiting.

Waiting for something Paige wasn’t sure she could give her.

She was unraveling.

Every second spent in Y/N’s orbit pulled at the fragile threads of her restraint, the hunger curling tighter in her chest, in her throat, in her bones.

Y/N had no idea.

No idea how much Paige noticed.

How much she wanted.

How much she was holding back.

Paige exhaled, slow and measured, forcing herself to step back. To create distance.

To breathe.

Y/N’s gaze flickered, tracking the movement.

Then—softly—

“Why do you do that?”

Paige’s jaw tensed. “Do what?”

Y/N studied her like she knew the answer but wanted to hear Paige admit it. “Hold yourself back.”

Paige let out a quiet chuckle, shoving her hands into her pockets. “You’re really trying to get into my head, huh?”

Y/N smirked. “It’s what I do.”

Paige tilted her head, considering her. “And what do you see?”

Y/N hesitated.

Then, carefully—

“I see someone who thinks too much.”

Paige’s lips twitched. “You think I think too much?”

Y/N gave a small shrug. “Maybe not in the way people expect.”

Paige let that sit between them for a moment.

She had been watched before. Studied. Hunted.

But never like this.

Never with quiet curiosity instead of suspicion.

Never with interest instead of fear.

She could still hear Y/N’s heartbeat.

Slow. Steady. Unaware.

Paige forced herself to look away, focusing on the apartment building ahead. “You’re home.”

Y/N sighed, shifting her weight. “Guess I am.”

Neither of them moved.

Paige knew she needed to leave.

Knew she had already stayed too long, let herself slip too far.

But Y/N was still watching her, still waiting, and Paige—

Paige wanted to give in.

For the first time in decades, she wanted.

Y/N’s voice was softer when she spoke again. “Are you gonna disappear again?”

Paige inhaled sharply, fingers curling against her palm.

She should.

She had to.

But then—

“Do you want me to?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away.

And that silence was enough.

Paige didn’t wait for a response.

She just smirked, stepping back into the night, vanishing before Y/N could see the cracks in her control.

But as she walked away, as the distance between them grew, one thing became painfully clear.

She was running out of reasons to stay away.

And sooner or later—

She wouldn’t.

Paige wasn’t sleeping.

She couldn’t sleep.

Not when her mind was filled with Y/N—her scent, her pulse, the shape of her in the dim glow of the streetlight, the quiet pull of her voice.

She had been so close.

And Paige had barely held herself together.

The need had been clawing at her ribs, screaming beneath her skin, a hunger unlike anything she had ever known. It wasn’t just blood. It wasn’t just thirst. It was something worse.

Something deeper.

She stood in front of the mirror in her darkened apartment, breathing hard, watching the way her pupils were blown wide, swallowing the pale blue of her irises.

She felt different.

Felt like something had shifted inside her, something dangerous.

Her hands clenched at her sides, the veins beneath her skin pulsing, darkening.

She was losing her grip.

And it was because of her.

Because of Y/N.

Because Paige had spent so long resisting, convincing herself she was in control, that she would never slip—

But Y/N was undoing her.

And she didn’t even know it.

It happened the next night.

She told herself she wouldn’t go back.

She told herself she would stay away.

But as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, Paige found herself moving.

Through the streets, through the dark, slipping between the cracks of the city like a ghost—silent, unseen, hunting.

Not for prey.

Not for blood.

For her.

She wasn’t sure if she meant to go inside, but she was there, standing outside Y/N’s apartment, staring up at the window, heart pounding.

The curtains were drawn, but she could sense her.

Could hear the rustle of paper, the soft scratch of pen against notebook.

The steady, rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat.

Paige pressed her palm against the brick wall, fingers curling against the rough surface, her breath sharp, uneven.

She needed to leave.

She needed to get out of here.

But she couldn’t.

Because she had spent years, decades, training herself to ignore the sound of human heartbeats, to tune them out until they were just background noise—

But hers?

Hers was the only one she couldn’t block out.

It was all-consuming.

It was everything.

And it was too late.

Paige squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing hard, trying to fight it, trying to stop.

Then—

A shift.

A flicker of movement.

Paige’s eyes snapped open.

Y/N was standing at the window.

The curtain was pulled back just enough for the light to cast against her skin, her brows drawn together, her gaze searching the empty street below.

She felt something.

She knew.

Paige went completely still.

Not breathing, not blinking, not moving.

Y/N’s head tilted slightly, fingers tightening around the curtain.

Then, slowly—so slowly—she turned away, disappearing back into the apartment.

Paige didn’t move.

Didn’t dare.

Because for the first time since this started, she realized something.

She wasn’t just obsessed with Y/N.

She wasn’t just hungry for her.

She was losing herself to her.

And the worst part?

She didn’t want to stop.

Paige didn’t remember going home.

One second, she had been standing outside Y/N’s window, every muscle in her body locked in place, her mind clouded with the need to stay, to watch, to listen.

The next, she was here.

Pacing.

Hands trembling.

Breath sharp and uneven, like she had just run—like she had fled.

Because she had.

Paige collapsed into the chair by her window, elbows on her knees, fingers digging into her skull.

She was coming apart at the seams.

The hunger had always been there, quiet and controlled, something she could ignore with enough discipline.

But this—this was different.

It wasn’t just about blood.

It was about her.

It was about Y/N’s presence, the gravity of her, the way her heartbeat pulled Paige in like a tide she couldn’t fight.

And the worst part?

Paige didn’t want to fight it.

She wanted to sink into it.

To drown in it.

She didn’t leave her apartment for two days.

She tried to keep herself busy, tried to focus on anything other than the craving lodged in her chest.

She trained.

She ran.

She paced.

But no matter what she did, Y/N was still there, woven into every thought, every movement, every breath.

The way she tilted her head when she was focused.

The way her lips parted ever so slightly when she was deep in thought.

The way she looked at Paige—curious, questioning, unafraid.

Paige had spent years making sure no one ever got too close.

And now?

Now she had let someone in without even meaning to.

And it was destroying her.

By the third night, she caved.

Of course, she did.

She had never stood a chance.

The second the sun disappeared, she was moving.

Not running.

Not hunting.

Just following the pull.

She found herself back at Y/N’s building before she could stop herself.

She told herself she would just make sure she was safe.

Just one glance.

One moment.

And then she would leave.

But before she could even steady herself, the door opened.

And there she was.

Y/N.

Walking down the front steps, hood pulled up against the chill, arms crossed over her chest, completely unaware of the monster standing just a few feet away.

Paige should have left.

Should have turned and disappeared before Y/N sensed her.

But instead, her feet stayed rooted to the ground.

Because Y/N was too close.

And Paige—

Paige was too far gone.

She barely realized she was staring until Y/N stopped.

Mid-step.

Her head turned slightly, her brows furrowing.

Paige didn’t breathe.

Didn’t move.

She had been careful. She knew she had.

But something in Y/N’s expression shifted.

Like she had felt something.

Like she had heard something just beneath the surface of what was humanly possible.

Paige clenched her jaw.

Then, before she could slip away—before she could vanish—

Y/N turned fully toward her.

Eyes locking onto hers.

The streetlight cast shadows across her face, highlighting the way her gaze narrowed, lips parting slightly as she took Paige in.

And then, the words that sent a sharp bolt of something dark through Paige’s entire body—

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

Paige went rigid.

Her body locked in place.

The air between them shifted.

Y/N wasn’t afraid.

She wasn’t running.

She was waiting.

And for the first time in a century, Paige felt the terrifying truth settle in her chest.

Her secret was slipping.

And Y/N had noticed.

Paige had faced death before.

She had stood on the battlefield, blood dripping from her hands, enemies at her back, moonlight reflecting off steel and fangs.

She had faced hunters, soldiers, other creatures like herself—beings that would have burned the world down to get to her.

She had never feared them.

Never once hesitated.

But standing here, under the dim glow of the streetlamp, with Y/N staring at her like she knew something—like she had seen something she wasn’t meant to—Paige felt something she hadn’t in years.

Panic.

It clawed at her throat, coiled in her stomach, every instinct screaming at her to move, to run, to erase the past thirty seconds from existence.

But she couldn’t.

Because Y/N was still watching her, brow slightly furrowed, gaze sharp—searching.

And Paige had never been this close to being caught.

The seconds stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Then—softly, carefully—

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Paige forced a smirk, shoving her hands into her pockets, hiding the way her fingers trembled. “What do you want me to say?”

Y/N didn’t blink.

Didn’t look away.

“You’re following me.”

Paige tilted her head. “Is that what I’m doing?”

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, her weight shifting between her feet.

She knew.

She didn’t know what she knew, but something had clicked, some piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, and Paige—

Paige had never been so close to losing control.

Because Y/N was standing there, her scent thick in the cold air, her pulse steady, her breath warm, and Paige could hear it all.

She could hear the way Y/N’s heart picked up just slightly.

Not in fear.

Not in panic.

But in curiosity.

And that—that was worse.

Because if Y/N wasn’t afraid, if she was interested, if she started looking too closely—

Paige wouldn’t be able to hide.

She licked her lips, exhaling slowly. “You’re imagining things.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered across her face, scanning, calculating.

And then, softly—

“No, I’m not.”

Paige clenched her jaw.

The streetlight flickered.

Something deep in her chest cracked, something she had held onto for decades.

Her secret wasn’t just slipping.

It was falling apart.

She needed to leave.

Now.

Paige inhaled sharply, stepping back. “Go home, Y/N.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, her lips parting, like she had more to say—

But Paige didn’t let her.

Because before she could open her mouth, before she could look at Paige with those sharp, questioning eyes for even a second longer—

She was gone.

Vanished into the night.

Leaving Y/N standing there, alone, staring at the empty space she had been just moments before.

And in the silence, with the cold pressing in, with the streetlight flickering above her, Paige knew—

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

Paige didn’t go home.

She couldn’t.

Her skin was too tight, her pulse—if she had one—was too loud in her ears, and the hunger was suffocating.

She ran instead.

Through the empty streets, over rooftops, deep into the outskirts of the city where she could breathe without the constant pull of her.

Of Y/N.

Her scent still clung to Paige’s senses, thick and inescapable, a ghost that haunted her even now.

She had slipped.

Not just a crack in the façade, not just a fleeting mistake.

A full collapse.

Y/N knew something.

She might not know what, but she felt it, saw the way Paige lingered in the shadows, saw the way she moved like she belonged to the night more than the world Y/N existed in.

And she wasn’t afraid.

That was the part Paige couldn’t ignore.

Y/N wasn’t running.

She wasn’t backing away.

She was waiting.

For answers.

For Paige to slip again.

For confirmation that whatever had clicked in her mind was real.

And Paige—Paige wasn’t sure she could keep pretending.

She stopped on the edge of an abandoned building, staring down at the city below, hands clenched into fists.

She should leave.

Disappear.

Erase herself from Y/N’s life before this got worse.

Before Y/N got hurt.

But the thought of never seeing her again, of never hearing her voice, never watching her tilt her head in thought, never—

Paige exhaled sharply, gripping the railing.

She was past the point of return.

And if she wasn’t careful, Y/N would pull her under completely.

—

She lasted two nights.

Two nights of pacing, of trying to shove the hunger down, of pretending she could still control this.

Then—like clockwork—she found herself outside Y/N’s building again.

This time, she didn’t lurk in the shadows.

She stood in the open, across the street, watching the soft glow of Y/N’s apartment.

And she waited.

For what, she wasn’t sure.

Maybe for Y/N to look out her window again, for her to sense something the way she had before.

Maybe for herself to gather the strength to walk away.

Neither happened.

Instead, the front door opened.

And Y/N walked right toward her.

Paige didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Y/N had spotted her too easily.

Like she knew Paige would be here.

Like she expected her.

She stopped just a few feet away, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, tilting her head in that familiar, sharp way Paige had come to expect.

“You’re terrible at hiding.”

Paige let out a quiet, humorless laugh, running a hand through her hair. “Am I?”

Y/N nodded, expression unreadable. “Yeah.”

Paige swallowed. “And yet you’re still standing here.”

Y/N shrugged. “I want to know why.”

Paige felt her control slip.

Not completely.

But enough.

Enough for her voice to lower, enough for her to step closer, enough for the shadows to stretch just slightly toward her in the dim light.

“You don’t want to know.”

Y/N didn’t flinch.

Didn’t step back.

Didn’t run.

Instead, her gaze swept over Paige’s face—calculating, reading her like an open book, always seeing too much.

And then—soft, steady—

“Yes, I do.”

Paige inhaled sharply.

She had one last chance to walk away.

One last chance to pull herself back from the edge.

But then Y/N took another step closer, her scent washing over Paige like a slow-burning fire, and suddenly—

There was no choice left to make.

Because Paige had already fallen.

[akawifeyy]

RISK! | smau & fic (FC43)

description: franco colapinto is a playboy — everyone knows that — but he does have some boundaries that he’s unwilling to cross. that is, until he meets you. the younger sister of oscar piastri. then he’s willing to risk it all.

tropes: forced proximity, mutual love, forbidden romance, age gap (18 and 21), op81 sister!reader!

face claim: gracie mckenna

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing

| note: this is a combination between a smau and a fic, meaning that some social media snippets are mixed throughout, along with blocks of prose. hope you enjoy!

tagged: @ williams, @ francolapinto, @ f1

comments (2718):

@ user1: this is so ridiculous, he's literally just being used to get girls to watch F1 🙄

-> @ user2: I agree, he can't even drive

@ user3: CONGRATS FRANCOOOO #argentina 🇦🇷

@ williams: We're so grateful to have Franco on our team, and can't wait to see what he will achieve in these upcoming races!

Melbourne, Australia (2025)

There was no way you could ever do this. Get in a tiny metal race car and go spinning around in circles against nineteen others for almost two hours? That was a tall order for anyone, yet your brother always exceeded expectations. You watched him glide through the track, his papaya car shedding sparks as he pushed the engine to the max. He was incredible, carefully looping around and setting records.

It was his home race; nothing lesser would have been expected. Oscar needed to excel, to survive against the pressure. Over the past few weeks, it was like he was glued to the sim, practicing this circuit repeatedly, making sure every movement was executed flawlessly. This was the final countdown: FP2, meaning that in less than a day, Oscar's skills would be put to the test.

Behind you, your best friend Georgia, wolf-whistled. Lando Norris, Oscar's teammate, had just entered the paddock. His curly hair was obscured by his classic neon-green helmet, his race suit hanging loose around his waist. "I'm so ready..." You heard him say to Zach, and then you turned your attention back on Oscar, who was on his final practice lap.

The car moved around as if it were a dagger, slicing through the track like the weapon it was. When he finally slowed to a halt, you rushed to meet him. He exited the car, removing his helmet, chest heaving with exertion. "Hey, Y/N," he said, smiling.

"Hi, Osc! You did amazing!"

He flushed, not one for compliments. "Sure. Where's Mom?"

"I think she went inside because it was too hot. I'll go get her," you said brightly, trailing after him.

Oscar shook his head. "It's OK, don't worry. Stay out here a bit, I think Lando's about to go on."

"I don't really care about him," you blurted. "I was waiting until you were done to go walk around the track."

Oscar raised one eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Even though you were younger than him by only five years, he acted like you were still a child. You were eighteen, and just one semester away from going to uni! You wouldn't have constant supervision there.

"Mom said I could," you pouted. "You're not in charge of me, I'm an adult now."

"Yeah, but you can't read a map, and you're naive," Oscar pointed out. "You trust everyone."

You gave him a look. "Like that's a bad thing. Anyways, I'll see you later!"

Oscar hugged you quickly, his eyes watching you concernedly, and you rushed off to explore the circuit.

Melbourne, Australia (2025 / continued)

You exited the McLaren paddock, tugging off your jacket and tying it around your waist securely. It had been a while since you'd been able to go to a Grand Prix; your parents hadn't let you because of all your studies. But this was Oscar's home race, and it was monumental. After months of arguing (and failed attempts at bribery), you'd finally convinced them to let you tag along.

The sun beat down on you, warming you from head to toe. It felt nice to finally feel a bit of a breeze, since you'd been cooped up in your room all week, prepping for your finals.

As you wandered through the grounds, you watched as fans cheered for their favorite drivers. You saw a few Australian flags here and there. One even had Oscar's face on it, next to a koala on a eucalyptus tree and a kangaroo, and you laughed.

You passed the Mercedes and Haas motor homes, where you saw Kimi Antonelli and Ollie Bearman talking. They were close to your age, and potential friends, but whenever you tried to talk to them, Oscar ushered you away.

"They're guys. And F1 drivers. They can't be trusted," he told you.

You rolled your eyes. "So that means I can't trust you."

Eventually, you found yourself in the Williams paddock, watching as they prepped the car for its final practice before the race. A man with the most attractive dimples you'd ever seen was talking animatedly with his race engineer, discussing potential strategies.

You were enthralled by his lilting accent, caught on every word and phrase. He finished with the race engineer and turned to his car, but then he stopped, noticing your presence.

You were wearing a bright orange blouse, and the jacket wrapped around your waist had Oscar's number on it, immediately incriminating you.

"Hello there," the man said, a grin dancing on his lips. "I'm Franco. And you are?"

Seven words, and you were hooked.

Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):

@ yourusername: home is where the heart is 🩷

tagged: @ oscarpiastri, @ f1

comments (182):

@ yourbffusername: had sooo much fun w you!

-> @ yourusername: i love being with youu

@ oscarpiastri: I already miss it

-> @ yourusername: go kick ass in china 😼

@ user4: Just dropped to my knees in the middle of the grocery store. She's just that beautiful

Two weeks after the Melbourne Grand Prix

You flopped down on your bed, feet kicked up in the air as you texted none other than Franco, the same driver you'd met in the Williams paddock. He was funny and flirtatiously silly, but he was smart too. You had a lot of conversations about your upcoming university days, and he gave great advice on the topic.

"You don't always have to listen to your brother," he texted you a few nights after you'd met. "You're your own person, cielo."

You two had bonded over your mutual love of horse riding, a hobby of yours that you were trying to continue despite all the stress of the past year. Franco sent you a few photos of his horse, and one where he was shirtless. You spent more time ogling that picture than you'd care to admit.

Talking to Franco was therapeutic, and you didn't want to hide the blossoming friendship (or more?) that you two had. But you knew how overly protective Oscar was of you. You didn't want to spark a rivalry that could play out poorly on track. It wasn't worth the drama.

You weren't going to avoid telling your brother forever, but you wanted to wait a while to make sure that you didn't give him an aneurysm for nothing. Franco had a reputation as a playboy, like all other F1 drivers, but he was still young and a rising star. He could be using you — at least, that's what the little voice in the back of your mind warned. It spent too much time listening and believing everything Oscar had told you.

There was a knock on your door, and you jumped, turning the screen off so that no one could see the conversation you'd been having.

I've never met a girl like you before.

You're my princesa, you know that? All pure and perfect. I wonder how long it would take for me to absolutely ruin you.

"Dinner's ready," your mother called through the door.

"Thanks, I'll be there in a minute!" you responded. Once you heard her footsteps recede, you texted Franco that you had to leave, and hurried outside, your cheeks blushing red.

@ francolapinto: ¡P8 en el Gran Premio de China! Es muy emocionante ver todo el progreso que ha logrado Williams. Estoy agradecido de ser parte de este equipo. ¡Hasta la próxima carrera!

(P8 in the Chinese Grand Prix! Very exciting to see all the progress Williams has made, I'm grateful to be part of this team. Until next race!)

tagged: @ williams, @ f1

comments (489):

@ user11: Amazing work, Franco!

@ yourusername: podium coming when???

-> @ francolapinto: Soon 😏

Text messages between Franco and Y/N (2025):

The Confrontation:

You fidgeted under Oscar's heavy stare. Even through a phone screen, his brown eyes pierced you. "I need to tell you something, but you can't flip out, OK?" you said.

"Oh God, what did you do now?" Oscar responded, preparing for the worst.

You shook your head, putting your palms up in a gesture of surrender. "Nothing bad! I swear!" You hesitated. "Well...I've been talking to someone. A guy, for a bit now."

Oscar sucked in a breath. "Not Lando."

Your jaw dropped. "Absolutely not."

"Good. Who is it, then?"

You closed your eyes, praying to God that Oscar wouldn't explode from anger. "Um...Franco?" You waited for the name to register.

Oscar blinked. "The new Williams driver?"

You nodded. "Yeah, that's who it is."

"That's who you chose?"

"Yeah?" you questioned, cocking your head to the side in confusion. "Is there something I should know? I mean, other than the fact that he's a supposed playboy and —"

"— He's fine, I suppose," Oscar mused under his breath. "Just be careful, alright?"

You froze in shock. "Yeah, I will be. Thanks for not freaking out."

"You're eighteen, I can't stop you from being romantically interested in someone. All I ask is that you don't engage in activities that should be done after marriage." Oscar pursed his lips. "I love you, Y/N. I'm always looking out for you."

"I know, and I'm thankful. You're the best older brother in the world."

@ francolapinto: Felices tres meses para mi hermosa novia, Y/N. Gracias por escucharme hablar y estar siempre ahí, incluso en los momentos más difíciles. Hasta pronto, corazón mío.

(Happy three months to my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N. Thank you for listening to me speak and always being there, even in the most difficult moments. See you soon, my heart.)

tagged: @ yourusername

comments (5895):

@ user11: I KNEW IT 🥳🥳🥳

@ user12: we weren't delusional guys!!!!!

-> @ user7: I love clowning and then being right

@ yourusername: hard launchhhh ‼️

-> @ yourusername: love you so much franco, i don't know what i would do without you!

-> @ francolapinto: Muchos besos, mi amor 💋

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[fandomobbsessedb]

Two Daddies, Two Daddies

(Gi-Hun + In-ho) X daughter Reader

Summary: You’ve got two daddies, they both love you unconditionally and they both want what’s best for you…. Even if it undermines the other.

• Ever since you came into their lives, whether by adoption, or surrogacy, genetic mutation, WHATEVER. You are their pride and joy. Everything they do, use to be driven by survival instincts, but now, everything they do is for their little princess 👑

•When you were just a little thing Gi-hun dotted on you the most. You were stuck to him like glue. He didn’t care if it made him look girly he wore that damn baby chest carrier thing everywhere. In the car he sat in the back with you keeping you entertained while In-ho drove.

When he drove, I should say, otherwise he was back there making you two follow standard driving laws…. Like how you had to be in a car seat….. and Gi-hun currently had you in his lap….. while he was unbuckled. He had to get you out of this pink onesie! He could see you were uncomfortable and just had to change you so you would be happy! He needs his baby happy.

• In-ho on the other hand did a lot of the more calculated baby stuff. Scheduling your doctor appointments, watching what times you ate exactly at, how much you ate etc. They would switch off whose turn it would be to give you a bath or read to you or put you to sleep.

• If In-ho couldn’t give you his full attention while he did something than that something wasn’t important enough to deem his precious shared attention. You where his everything all the time.

•Inside your shared living space on the island where the only people you would ever need in your life. Appa and Papa. Nothing else in the outside world ever bothered them or you.

• GI-hun was always the parent you went to first. Didn’t matter if he was using the bathroom or trying to eat, he was choice #1. Then would be In-ho. Kinda like a mom and dad dynamic.

• Appa does the silly voices with your bedtime stories maybe even some finger puppets. Meanwhile Papa prefers to cuddle you to sleep, or to brush out your hair, he just helps you calm down by before a more consistent and constant presence. So while Gi-hun is making a show out of showing you how the princess defeated the witch, In-Ho is keeping you in bed, and gently petting your hair and covering your ears when Gi-hun gets a lil too loud.

• Gi-hun wasn’t able to give his first daughter everything she ever wanted, then again, he felt he wasn’t given a fair chance to try and raise her. So with you, he’s doing his best to not spoil the absolute hell out of you while still remaining a bit strict.

• He gives you basic ass household chores and pretty low standards for grades, even though you still excel, and he raised you to be good, so you’re pretty much always on your best behavior. That being said your allowance and earnings are at least x10 that of a normal kid.

• Your classmate got $20 once for doing all the dirty dishes and they acted like they were on top of the world. In your own mind however you were a bit class blind by that. You were so confused why they were only given $20.

• Because of his view on society In-ho doesn’t view your people as “friends”. He see’s them just like the rest of the world and in his mind has made up that your the leader of your little friend group just like how he’s the boss of his workers. So if he were to take you out of that school or daycare he wouldn’t see it as much of a problem.

• Where Gi-hun lacks in restraint and uncertainty, In-ho makes up for it in sterner parenting and guidance.

• One night they’re at the dinner table discussing what to get you for getting straight A’s this last semester. Gi-hun suggests a relaxing vacation, somewhere simple and close to home in Korea. In-Ho immediately over rides that decision and is already purchasing tickets to the Caribbean under the table. First class with a spa and snacks and all your favorite sweets. Ya know what fuck it, he doesn’t want to deal with people right now, we’ll just take the private jet. So what if it belongs to the “squid games” company name, he owns the games.

Scenario

Gi-hun had you by your upper arm pulling you into the apartment, your Papa sat on his chair watching the current games as the two of you stormed in.

“Do you have any idea what she just did?” Gi-hun will question his partner looking as In-Ho sighed and opened his texts to see what you undoubtedly texted your more lenient parent.

“She kicked that bully at her game.” He affirmed without looking up.

“She KICKED the bully AT HER GAME.” He loudly stated. In-ho titled just his eyes up to meet the taller man’s.

“So?” He shrugged. Gi-hun just stood there gapping his mouth like a fish.

“It wasn’t even with the game it was off to the side when the ball rolled out of bounds!” He angrily declared. You just looked exasperated between to two of them before bowing your head to apologize.

“I’m sorry Papa, I’m sorry Appa. I shouldn’t have kicked her” you stood straight again keeping your head down waiting for your father’s understanding punishment.

“Forgiven, go change out of that sweaty gear and get ready for dinner.” In-ho calmly stated, walking over the place a kiss on the top of your head before making his way back to his chair. With a small smile you turned and quickly slipped away before Gi-hun could duel out his own punishment. From the background you could hear them still going.

“She wouldn’t resort to physical violence if someone is upsetting her.” Gi-hun angrily spoke out.

“Mhm” In-ho simply nodded his head before making his own point, “how many other parents complain to you as well about that other kid? Hm? We should be grateful the ONLY thing she did was kick them.” He replied coming to your defense making you cheer internally before he spoke up again.

“If you want to punish her so bad for getting physical with another kid don’t let her go to the next game, her attitude may change but the kid won’t.” He sternly replied heading towards their shared room to fix his own appearance before you all sat down to eat.

• When you start puberty they don’t touch that with a 39 and a half foot pole. Not because they don’t love you. They still do everything the same for you…. GI-hun just brings his friend Sae-Byeok into the picture.

• It’s like the Wild West in the apartment. Her on one side, you on the other, your dads standing in the middle out of the way. Normally they just handed you both a wad of cash and let you go out to do whatever it is you needed to do but this time she said she only had a few minutes and would just stop in.

“Catch” she nonchalantly told you, grabbing the bag from the air you opened it and saw a few different types of…. What is this exactly?

“Deodorant, you stink kid, your bodies maturing and this is just one of the first things.” She shrugs, walking out of the building. The two gays in the corner clutch to eachother in worry at your reaction as you delicately held the bars like they were poison. Within a few sniffs you were taking it to your room contently at your favorite smells.

• Your their favorite person and their your favorite people. Just because you didn’t grow up with a mother figure doesn’t mean you’re not well balanced. They both take adequate care of themselves and you.

<3

AN: Thanks for reading! I’m not sure how accurate this is so if I come up with more ideas I’ll just add em on.

Stayed Tuned!

~ FandomObbsessedB

[gvshing]

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─PRETTY GIRL DEALING─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

(warning for weed usage and dealing!!) pt 1. pt 2.

⊹₊⋆CHAPTER THREE⊹₊⋆

A week has passed since you last bought from Ellie. You still had some from the last time you had bought, but you wanted to see Ellie. It had been kind of awkward since the day after you two had hung out. Not to anyone’s fault most likely. Classes are busy right now, it’s the middle of the semester. Lots of projects and essays are due right now, so you tried not to take it personally that Ellie and your texts seemed a bit dry. But, it was hard not to. It felt like there was a connection, so the sudden awkward tension is off putting to you. Swallowing your anxiety you text her a simple ‘Hey :)’.

When Ellie receives your text she feels her heart skip. She stares at it for 15 seconds before she opens it and replies. ‘Hey! What's up?’ She’s pretty sure you’re just wanting to re-up on weed but part of her hopes you’re wanting to talk or hang out. Even though she should be finishing her physics homework. The other part of her hopes her hypothesis is correct. She likes you, but she can’t. She shouldn’t. Within a minute your reply dings on her phone. ‘Think I can swing by later? Same as last time! Maybe we could hang out too? Dina’s busy today :( it’s okay if you’re busy too obvi!’ She’s not sure how to process the fact that both halves of her get what they want. Dina’s words ringing through her head. ‘Trust me by trusting them’ She sighs and runs her hands over her face roughly. Staring at your text she decides there’s no harm in being nice and at least trying. Ellie’s hands have a hard time gripping her phone from how sweaty they’ve suddenly become. ‘Yeah that sounds good! Is about 6 okay?’ She drops her phone on the bed and blows out the breath she was holding, feeling faint from the lack of air. She can do this. It’s just hanging out with somebody, and at least she sorta knows you now. It’s not like you’re a complete stranger. Now at least.

Come six o’clock and she’s pacing around her room, nerves tingling all through her body. She’s put herself at a distance since the first and last time you guys had hung out. She doesn’t want you to think she’s weird, or get fucked over if you’re only using her for weed. Which would be fair, she sells it so of course most people just want weed from her. If you just want weed, fine. She just can’t fall for somebody who might use her. She hears your light knock on the door and jumps, getting pulled out of her train of thoughts and anxiety. She opens the door and sees you smiling wide at her. Chest fluttering, she lets you in. “Hey, El! How’s your day been?” You beamed at her, sitting down on her desk chair. You’re looking around the room, memorizing all her wall decor and small trinkets that line her shelves. “Uh… it’s been good. Just school today thankfully. I’ve been meaning to call Joel, but I’ve been so busy or tired so I keep forgetting.” Ellie rambles while she pulls out her weed supply and sits on her bed to unlock the box. You cock your head to the side and furrow your eyebrows. “You’ve mentioned him a few times. Is he your dad? Sorry, you’ve probably told me before.” You laugh awkwardly and rub the back of your neck. “Oh! Yeah! My bad, I always forget not everybody knows him. He’s practically my dad. He’s taken care of me for longer than I have memories and I don’t know. He’s great. He can be a bit of a hard ass sometimes, but that’s just the old man in him.” She locks her box back and walks over to the desk you’re sitting at. She begins to weigh out the weed and you start to stand up to offer your seat. She shakes her head and motions for you to sit back down. “I’ll be okay. Thank you though. Pretty girls should always be allowed the seat first.” She mutters, her face getting redder by the second. Before you can retort back at her flirting, or at least you hope it’s flirting, she begins talking again. “I don’t mean to sound like I hate Joel. I love him, we’ve had our disagreements for sure though. I wouldn’t trade him for anything though. He gave me my guitar, I grew a love for playing because of him.” She finishes weighing it out, much faster this time than last. Stuffing it into a small ziplock she hands it over to you. “That’s sweet. About Joel I mean. He sounds great. I understand completely about putting off calling them. Sometimes it makes the pain of being away hurt more than usual. It’s midterms soon also, so you’re busy. I get it. And thank you for the weed Ellie. You’re the best.” You look up at her, grinning wide enough your eyes close. She smiles softly back at you. “How much do I owe you?” You question. Ellie seems to think about it deeply before telling you the same amount as last time. “What? Ellie, seriously. You don’t have to give me another discount. I’m willing to pay whatever you charge. I don’t want to take money out of your pocket.” you bargain, or I guess reverse bargain. She shakes her head. “No seriously! I know you’re good for it. And plus I expect us to smoke together while we hang out.” She crosses her arms and strikes a silly pose. You giggle at her theatrics. “Of course I’m gonna share. Don’t be ridiculous.” You reach in your pocket and grab a twenty dollar bill. You place it halfway under her laptop and stand up. “Okay, sit your ass down, smoke my weed and keep me company instead of pouting.” You flop down on her bed scooting over to the wall and pat the space next to you. She grins and mimics your flop down. Stretching and groaning loudly, you laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay drama. What do you smoke your weed out of?”

For the next few hours you and Ellie smoke and laugh together. “No seriously! She was so fucking drunk. She was leaning on Jesse and we were all dying of laughter! She just kept telling him she loved him and repeatedly proclaiming how drunk she was. As if we didn’t know. Dina made me promise the next day to never let her drink that much ever again or to ever even bring it up to her.” You reminisce about Dina and her antics together, crying with laughter over your mutual dear friend. “God, she’s always been a silly drunk, getting emotional and all lovey dovey.” Ellie had her head in your lap, resting it there over an hour ago. She had been complaining about her back hurting from the shitty sitting position she had subjected herself to. So you told her to lie back in your lap, after a long deliberation she eventually gave in.  You wipe your eyes free from the tears that accumulated from laughing too hard. You drop your hands down and set them in Ellie’s hair. You stroke her hair mindlessly, focusing only on catching your breath. Ellie can only focus on the way your hands feel when you run them through her hair. While you’re catching your breath, hers is getting lost in her chest. Her face growing red and her palms getting sweaty. You look down at her smiling and blowing out a final deep breath. You catch her eyes with your own. You both stare at one another, a tension in the air. “Hi.” you say softly. “Hello.” She mutters back, not able to break eye contact. Realizing the position you’re in, you join her in the blushing. You break eye contact first, opting to look over at her T.V. that plays some random youtube video at a low volume. “It’s late. Um… I should probably go. I don’t want to keep you up late again,” You say to her. Realizing your hand is still resting on her head, strands of hair intertwined through your fingers. She sits up and rubs her arm. “Yeah, yeah. I hope I didn’t keep you too long. Thanks for hanging out and… yeah. I enjoy your company. Can I… Maybe if you would like, can I walk you back to your dorm? Just to make sure you get back safe!” Ellie adds quickly. You smile shyly at her and nod enthusiastically at her offer. “Please.”

When you arrive at your door you turn around and gleam at her. “It was really sweet of you to walk me home. I’m really happy to have met you. Thank you.” You place a hand on her shoulder and lean forward to press a kiss against her cheek. Leaning back you move your hand to cup the cheek you had just kissed and smile at her. She blushes furiously and gapes at you, butterflies dancing in her chest. “Goodnight Ellie.” She raises a hand and gives you a small wave muttering a goodnight as you walk into your dorm. She stands staring at your door. In shock of your endearing interaction. Her heart was beating all throughout her body. She begins her walk back to her own dorm, hand placed over her cheek. The feeling of your lips and cupped hand lingering. She feels a buzz in her pocket and pulls out her phone. “Text me when you’re home safe please :) Thank you again for hanging out with me. You’re the best.”

Stumbling through her haze, she arrives at her door before she knows it. She pulls her key and phone out of her pocket. Unlocking her door with one hand, she types back a reply with the other. “I’m home :) I’d hang out with you anytime. goodnight Y/N.” Ellie gets ready for bed, overthinking everything. Maybe opening herself up to have these experiences can be good. She should try at least. She’s starting to like you a lot. More than just a simple crush. It’s growing for her. How does she feel these feelings so fast? She can’t wrap her head around it. She wants this to be good, she wants to try to do this. What if though? She still feels like she shouldn’t be this happy. You have only hung out twice. She needs to pump the breaks. But how? All she wants to do is be around you all the time. She thought maybe taking a step back from texting past that first night would make her feel less intense about you. She couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her just starved of physical attraction or attention. She could just be taking whatever she could get subconsciously. But she knows that’s not the case. She likes you. She sees the beauty and gentleness inside you. She’s infatuated. Your eyes she gets lost in, your soft hands she would die to hold just one time, your soft lips she couldn’t imagine actually kissing instead of just feeling pressed against the soft of her cheek. She wants you, all of you. She needs to know who you are, every angle, the good and bad. She’s sure she’s already in deep. She hopes she’s not reading too far into your actions. What if that’s just how you are with your friends? Some people are touchy with their friends. She hugs Dina all the time and once or twice has received or given her kisses on the cheek. Anxiety ignites in her chest at the thought of her taking your actions the wrong way. She crosses her fingers that she’s not. She lays down on her bed and opens her window, forever thankful she got a dorm room that actually has a window. Some people weren’t so lucky. She was though. She loved to look up at the sky and imagine being up there, where the stars and moon are. She daydreams about making her own civilization on the moon's surface. Somewhere better, somewhere perfect. Away from all the uncertainty of earth. She stares up and hopes for a falling comet, hoping for a wish to fall into her lap. A wish that she was correct, and that for once her feelings were reciprocated. She falls asleep staring up at that sky. She dreams of you. She dreams of that perfect life together. One with a cozy house and a big backyard. Definitely a dog that leaps over with glee when she gets home from a long day’s work. A perfect life that involves you greeting her at the door with a kiss. She thinks that if that was her life she’d never have another complaint for as long as she lived. She wakes up feeling empty, knowing that’s not her current reality. But, when she’s dreaming, laying so sweetly and breathing so calmly, it’s real. And it’s perfect.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

that took longer for me to write than it should've... it's not like I write a lot when I write, so why must it take my brain so long to get this all out... anyway! Lowkey... surprised anybody has been reading my stuff so I appreciate everyone who's taken the time out of their day to read my silly little story! Thank you thank you thank you!

[lovekawaas]

picnic date w/ college boyfr! choso

cw: smut (MDNI), public sex, sub! choso, blowjob, facesetting, 69, unprotected sex, p in v, afab reader

wc: 2k words

spring semester was halfway done. and your boyfriend decided that you deserved a treat for all of the hard work that you had been putting in these past few months.

the weather couldn't have been more perfect, with bright blue skies and the sun's beating rays ever present. a cool breeze blew your sundress up and you tightly grasp the handle of your picnic basket clutching it close to your chest, hoping it'll anchor you so you don't blow away.

choso, just a few steps ahead, finds what he deems to be the perfect spot to set up. with a swift throw, he lays the blanket down right under a tall tree atop a hill giving you guys a mixture of shade and sun. he turns to see you further off in the distance.

"sweetheart do you need any help?"

"i'm right behind you cho!"

and with that, you make your trek up the hill, watching for cracks in the dirt so as not to slip and fall. upon reaching the top, you gazed out at the view of the field. total seclusion. far far away from the whirlwind of univeristy life. no professors, no exams, no term papers. spring was in full bloom and it was beautiful. the wind brushing through the tall grass making it sway back and forth. it's almost like it was moving. like the field was alive.

a soft palm places itself on your shoulder, drawing you out of your thoughts. you quickly turn your head to see that it's only choso. he smiles softly at you, his kind eyes causing your cheeks to pull the corners of your lips up as well. a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips.

"i'm so happy to be here with you right now"

and another kiss makes its way to your cheek. your face flushes with heat. he always knows exactly how to make you swoon. and without even trying. that's just choso. his soft gestures and gentle care melts your heart time and time again. however, you know how you can make him swoon harder.

"are you ready to eat?" he asks as his hands head for the basket. but you grab his wrist before he can open it. "sorry cho, but i think that i'm hungry for something else". small hands grasp at the knitted material of his sweater, yanking it towards you to pull him in. you don't kiss him. instead, you lick a long slow stripe against his neck drawing out the sweetest whines from him.

choso is stunned. "y/n..." he quietly exhales. so soft you almost don't even catch it. "y/n, we're in public someone could see us". "there's no one around choso". how could you be so bold? surprising him once by drawing him close with such swiftness. and then again by the touch of your tongue.

he shudders beneath you, turning red in the face and hot all over. but he knows that you're not done with him yet. you're pressing soft lips from the collar of his sweater, working your way up to the top of his neck right beneath his jawline. "and if anyone comes by—

let them watch".

dropping his sweater, choso stumbles back from you dazed from just your lips. nimble fingers intertwining with his, you pull him down onto the blanket with you. basket set aside, you press your palm to his chest feeling his toned body protrude through the layers of his clothes.

pushing him down until his back hits the ground resting gently on the fabric placed earlier. eyes connect to his belt buckle, almost blinding you as it glints in the sun. you reach forward to undo it, unzipping his pants, pulling the waistband of his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free.

"y/n" choso breathes out feeling the cool spring air hit him.

but you don't acknowledge him. instead, you look at the little beads of pre cum dribble down from the tip of his dick. the way the light hits them makes it look almost like pearls. and you can't help but want to get a taste.

tucking your hair behind your ears, you lean forward to suckle the substance off the tip. a little salty but that's okay with you. you tug his boxers further down to have full access. your lips press a soft kiss to the tip. and that's the only notice you give choso before going all in.

cheeks hollowing and teeth hidden behind your lips, you swallow him whole. not even daring to breathe, immediately gagging at the intrusion as he hits the back of your throat. feeling the clenching of your passage he can't help but writhe beneath you. you pull your mouth off of him gasping for air. coughing and sputtering. but it doesn't stop you.

no.

you go back in again. bobbing your head up and down. drooling on his cock like a dog letting any escaped saliva pool down on the exposed skin of his thighs. his whimpers like warm honey, entering your ears moving all the way down to your cunt. thighs clenched together beneath the skirt of your dress. rocking your hips backing and forth on your heels for any sense of friction to aid the throbbing you feel. your cunt clenching around nothing from just his whines.

meanwhile, choso is a mess.

your lips are just so tight. sucking him so well. warm throat engulfing him whole. choso thinks this is it. this is how he dies. with his beautiful girlfriend sucking his dick in a field. or maybe he isn't gonna die. but he's definitely going to cum.

he's thrusting back now surprising you as his tip rams into the back of your throat. "fuck y/n...ngh...i can't....i'm gonna...i'm gonna", but before he can finish his sentence, you remove your lips not wanting to please him just yet.

"y..y..y/n?", choso utters.

wordlessly, you crawl closer to choso's face. you kiss him fervently, passionately, mixing both of your salivas with the salty taste of his cum left in your mouth. you drink up his moans like it's water. breaking from the kiss, you sit back on your haunches. rising up to your knees, you grabs the ends of your skirt and lift it up to your waist letting the breeze wash over your bare skin. his jaw drops.

"no panties y/n?"

and you smirk. he had finally started to piece together your plan. you swing your left leg over his head facing towards his cock and sit down, muffling any protests he might have with your cunt. you rock your hips back and forth hoping to relieve yourself on his mouth. and who would choso be if he didn't help his girlfriend pleasure herself.

his thick arms clamp around your plush thighs to sturdy yourself on his face. his tongue jolts out of his mouth to lap up at your cunt, slurping up all of your slick. you're breathless, eyes rolling back at the sensation. cunt weeping down his chin. you decide now is the perfect time to repay your doting boyfriend.

you lean forward, softly grabbing choso's still hard cock and press your tongue to the bottom of his shaft dragging it all the way to his tip. the almost cries he releases reverberates into your pussy, vibrating, bringing you bliss. you suck him off, pulling him off every few bobs to tap his cockhead against your tongue. fondling his balls, you can feel the throbs and twitches of his penis in your mouth.

he's close.

and so are you.

tears creep up at the corners of your eyes as choso refuses to let up. he laps at your cunt like he had traveled through the desert and just found fresh water. dragging your pussy lips across his face. nibbling at your clit, pinching it the smallest bit with his teeth zapping you with a pain that was just delectable. the two of you chase your highs in each other, choso invetibly beating you to the finish line but you not far behind.

he cums into your mouth. one sharp thrust. and then another. and then another blowing load after load into the back of your mouth until you feel his body go slack beneath you. but choso is no selfish lover. despite you taking all of him, he continues his attack on your clit.

pursing his lips to create a suction, suckling your sweet nub until you crack. and you cum. hard. back arching as all of your muscles tense up. head whipping back as you practically scream. and then you go limp against his thighs, panting as you try to catch your breath.

you roll off of him, flipping around to lay next to him. you turn your head to face him and see the light sheen covering his face dripping down his neck staining the blanket beneath his head. you squirted. right into choso's mouth. and he doesn't even mind. he just looks back you with loopy, pussy drunk eyes and lazily smiles. "y/n, thank you".

and all you can do is smirk back at him because you're not done. you use the remaning bit of your strength to sit up and move to hover over his hips. you take one hand and bunch up your dress. your other moving to align his cock with your hole, giving it a pump or two letting it harden again.

you slam yourself down his cock. the two of you moaning in unison at the intrusion. your pussy already well lubricated from the work his mouth did earlier. his cock well coated from your tongue. the stretch so delicious as he penetrates you.

"fuck y/n...ngh...fuck....its....it's too much!!"

"don't you wanna make me proud? we just got to dessert cho".

you begin to bounce on his dick. thighs quickly growing tired, you start to ride him using all of the power that you can muster up. you roll your hips against him, clit bumping against his pubic bone. moaning uncontrollably letting his penis fill you whole.

one of his hands reach out to grab your waist, guiding you as you rock back and forth. the other reaching for the top of your dress to pop a tit. you audibly gasp at his bold gesture. and once he's pulled it out, he pulls you into him so he can suckle on the breast he's just revealed.

"fuck y/n", he breathes out. "it's too....ah...ahh...fuck...it's too much!"

all you can do is respond with your own moans. the feeling of his tongue swirling around your perky nipple. the way his cock fills you up. you swear you can feel it pounding into your tummy. your eyes rolling back into your head as you breathe through him fucking you.

the new angle of you leaning forward hitting spots that hadn't been reached before. and then, choso bends his knees, planting his feet into the ground to fuck up into you. jackhammering his hips into your hole, hitting the special spot in your pussy over and over and over.

"cho please....ah....please baby...come with me".

and it breaks you both. his hips stuttering as he wails out to you. "FUCK Y/N...AH...FUCK!". his cock twitches, straining to pump out another load into you. and you clench choso's cock as tight as you think you ever have. tightening up so hard until you feel like you can't anymore. your climax hitting you like a train. eyes closed, you fall against his chest, mouth slack as you try to catch your breath. cum seeping slowly out of your pussy.

while his dick begins to soften in you, you feel a large hand brush your dress down to cover your behind. soft lips press a gentle kiss to your head. the two of you lay there. choso's arms coming to wrap around you, gently soothing your muscles as he rubs against your back.

with no words, you both let the sun beat down on you. of course, a soft wind passes through to cool you guys down. catching your breath, you close your eyes and melt into choso. it's perfect. this is the perfect spring day.

[mx-nada]

gaty!!!!!!

[maiaczy]

hi!! first of all i just found your acc and your art is literally so pretty!! literally jealous, i hope you have an amazing day/week/life :)! second, not sure if they’re still open and no worries if they aren’t, but could i request a fugo drawing? either way seriously love your art thank you for making it and existing and stuff!!!

Ahhh thank you sm!! Here you go, he was really fun to draw

[orcelito]

Hey I'm graduating college in may and I just kinda realized that I'll be Done Done with school after that. Not fake-done like I was graduating high school, where I'd have to go to college at the start of the fall. And not fake-done like I was in any of my semesters I took off.

Done Done. As in I accomplished my degree, and I won't ever have to go back to school if I don't want to. What a beautiful, beautiful thought.

[moonpie2405]

Coco... Stop being so goddamn relatable...

[justmossyaps]

*rocking back and forth* just have to make it through this week just have to make it through this week just h

[bookwyrminspiration]

trying to get shit sorted out for fall semester but no one is back in office until it starts is. not ideal

[bywandandsword]

My mom and brother drove me back up to Maine on Friday and had to leave today. I'm not going to see any of my family again until next summer

I'm being very brave about it

[blossoms-phan]

officially completed the last assignments and classes of my uni career/bachelors degree everybody cheered