#if you were wondering what it's like being a senior in college

[daisywords]

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[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II

Part I Part III Part IV

Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!

CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood, (Menstion of past) Kidnapping

You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven

Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax

You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out

It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there

Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible

It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.

But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.

Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?

A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing

You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 

The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 

But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.

It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.

Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 

He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.

Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook

Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 

You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 

But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.

With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 

It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows

Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 

No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.

Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.

The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.

Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your

Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you

You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.

You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path

Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.

Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.

You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 

Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.

Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night

Nightwing sighs as he handcuffs the thief. He went a lot harder than he expected but how can you blame him? His family was in danger and he needed to do everything to make sure it doesn’t happen again

The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.

Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well

The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea

You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 

Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there

Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least

Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say

Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.

Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags

Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.

It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.

Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you

Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven

You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home

[veethefreeelf]

Hate is a strong word - Y.JH

Summary: 

You were living out your dream working in an ideal company with great colleagues and friends, except one. Yoon Jeonghan has been your nemesis from the moment the both of you stepped into this company. Sometimes you wonder if you’re living your dream or stuck in a nightmare.

Wordcount: 15k

Warnings: lots of snarky, petty dialogue; jealous jeonghan; jealous reader; vaginal fingering; oral f. receiving; vaginal penetration (protected & unprotected); some shoving of panties in mouths; lots and lots of praising; tie being used as a gag/leash; spanking; cumshot; pussy slapping

Requested: yes, by @shuahasmyheartffs

P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from the characters’ perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages/calls/voice messages between characters

After you graduated college, you were hoping to join the company of your dreams. You worked so hard for so many years and you were even able to do a summer internship at this company during your college years. 

At the time, the team lead of the marketing department really took you in and expressed how they would love for you to contact them after you graduated to see if they had any openings for you to join them.

This had been your proudest moment, up until the day you actually joined the company. By then, the former team lead of the marketing department had moved up but you know they still helped in the hiring process to make sure you secured the position available. He had also told you at the time that in the worst case scenario, you could start in the advertising department since they had an opening and move to the marketing department once you had the chance.

However, to your delight this wasn’t necessary. You passed all your tests and interviews and they loved your portfolio even if it was a short one since you had just graduated. 

You joined the team and started to get to know your colleagues. Everyone was amazing. Some had been in the company longer and others had recently joined like you but you got along with all of them amazingly well. You had always been a people person so this didn’t really surprise you. You also found out very early on that you would need to work closely with the advertising team so you should start getting to know them as well.

One of the senior members of the team - Soonyoung - (or as he preferred to be called: Hoshi) had warned you early on that the members of the advertising team were tough but you shouldn't have any problems with them at all. ‘Unless something horrible happened like the new person that would join would be the devil’ he had said and laughed. You laughed along with him. You would be just fine.

You both shouldn’t have laughed because indeed, the new person that joined that team was the devil. And, since the day you met him and he completely destroyed all of your ideas in an interdepartmental meeting, you vouched to destroy everything he loved. Okay, maybe not that. But, definitely destroy all of his ideas and make sure everyone knew what a gigantic asshole he was.

And here you are, five years later. Still hating each other and still making sure everyone knew. Always trying to one up each other and get the last say in everything. 

The only difference now is that you both are department team leads. You both got promoted at around the same time. Except you got promoted one day sooner and you would never let him live it down. 

Today was a very important day for you. The company had just gotten a very big account, and your team was in charge of the marketing strategies for this account. Of course, all marketing strategies and efforts need to be hand in hand with the advertising team, and this usually meant an interdepartmental meeting and your nemesis shooting down every single idea your team proposes. 

You were hoping that for this big account, he would be a bit less of an asshole. You were wrong. Every idea proposed by your team was shot down. 

‘Not enough budget. Too expensive to recruit developers and add those features. Just overall doesn’t make sense for their line of business’.

He found every excuse in the book. You had decided then, you weren’t going to give up until he was gone from this company. Or at least from this branch. You needed him out of your life before you committed murder.

You just didn’t get it. Their team was tough and you knew that, but to everyone else he was just so nice and available and open to new ideas. However, anything coming from your team, with your stamp of approval was immediately a target for him.

“If looks could kill, he sure would be dead as fuck wouldn’t he?” Hoshi asked you.

You were eating at the company’s cafeteria and you might have been chewing a little too hard and staring at the back of his head plotting ways to get rid of him.

“He’s just such a fucking asshole. And for what? What does he gain with this? Endless meetings with us until one of us breaks? It won’t be me this time. Absolutely not. He better be ready for a fucking fight” you told Hoshi and the rest of your team as they sat down.

“Your hate for each other is tearing both our teams apart” Sunny said mercilessly and you looked around the table. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“How is this my fault? He started this 5 years ago. Started hating on every word that left my mouth for no fucking reason. What am I supposed to do? He did it again today! And I just took it without saying a word. How are you guys blaming me for this?” you asked as you looked around the table.

“You could just be the bigger person? I’m sure if you stop acknowledging everything, he’ll give up” Hoshi said.

“Let’s not blame, Y/N. She has tried to calm things down between them. He just keeps adding fuel to the fire. He’s clearly doing it on purpose” Seokmin had told everyone.

“See? Not my fault. I’ve tried. He will just keep doing this until one of us quits or moves to a different branch. It won’t be me though, don’t you worry” you said as you continued to angrily eat your lunch.

“But he is so hot, though. You should just fuck him. I bet that will calm him down” Clara, the remaining member of your team, spoke up.

“He is the devil. I would rather die than fuck him” you answered without hesitation.

“Oh come on. I can’t believe you haven’t thought about it. Look at him. EVERYONE wants to fuck him. Every human at this company has tried and failed. Except one. Lucky bitch from IT” Clara added.

“I can’t believe Hana bagged him. He had to be drunk. He does not fuck around from what I heard. Not his thing at all. He’s apparently a hopeless romantic waiting to find the one. Very unfortunate for most of us” Sunny added.

“Guys, I will vomit. Please, stop talking about the devil that haunts my nightmares that way. And also, no gossiping, come on. Hana gets enough attention” you told everyone on your team.

“Hey, Y/L/N. You’ve really been off your game since your promotion but today was definitely a new low for you”

You knew who was by your table talking shit. Bold of him to do so while you were holding a knife. Hoshi took the knife from your hand and you stared at him.

“What? We like you as our team lead, we can’t lose you to a crime of passion” he told you and Jeonghan laughed.

“Crime of passion, Y/L/N? Have you been harboring a crush for me? I’m flattered” Jeonghan spoke again.

“The only time your name and crush exist in the same thought inside my brain is when I fantasize about crushing all your hopes and dreams before the day I die, Yoon” you said as you started to angrily clean up your tray. 

You couldn’t even eat at peace here. It wasn't enough for him to torture you during meetings. He always found a way to find you around the building and push your buttons beyond explanation.

“So you are fantasizing about me. Wow. Very forward, Y/L/N” he said and smirked.

“Hmm… Is that what you desperately want, Yoon? Me, fantasizing about you? Alone, in my bedroom, just thinking about you?” you said as you got up and got ridiculously close to him. You could’ve swore you saw a flash of surprise in his eyes and that he gulped at your statement.

“Pretty fucking pathetic, Yoon. And also, never, in your wildest fucking dreams but you are more than welcome to stay delusional” you said as you backed away. 

You picked up your tray and finally left. 

“You could stop being such an asshole to her. To our team, I mean” Seokmin said to Jeonghan after you left.

“Be better at your jobs and I won’t have to be” Jeonghan told your team and left as well.

“I should’ve let her have the knife” Hoshi said after he left.

“I’m telling you, they need to fuck. Everything will calm down once they get it out of their system” Clara said and everyone groaned.

You got to your office and you needed to calm down. You just didn’t get it. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone. It’s one thing to professionally disagree with someone because you have valid and rational reasons to. But it’s a completely different story to target one person and shoot all their ideas down. Valid or not. This no longer feels like just a professional rivalry, it feels personal as well.

Maybe your team was right. Except Clara. She was fucking wrong. Sure, when he first joined you thought he had been the most beautiful human you had ever seen in your entire life, but as soon as he started speaking up and hating on you, that notion was long gone. He wasn’t hot enough for you to ever forgive him. ‘Right?’ you asked yourself and immediately shot that down ‘Yeah. You hate him. Absolutely never going to happen’.

Clara was wrong. Maybe everyone else was right about you being the bigger person. Maybe if you stopped talking back to him in and out of meetings, he would give up and move on to a different target. 

As you were contemplating your next move and if you were strong enough to be the bigger person, there was a knock at your office door.

“Come in” you had said after sitting down on your office chair.

“Hey, sorry. Do you have a minute?”

Seungcheol. Jeonghan’s partner in crime. He was a very tough cookie but you had always gotten along with him. He was reasonable and knew to acknowledge when your team was right and they were wrong.

“Go ahead. Be quick, please. Thanks to your team lead I will be spending the rest of the afternoon in brainstorming sessions since nothing is good enough for that prick” you said as you rubbed your temples.

A migraine. Of course. Because this day hasn’t sucked hard enough.

“About that… Maybe hold off on the brainstorming. I quite liked some of your team's ideas and I believe they are well within the client’s budget and needs. I’ll be talking to Jeonghan this afternoon to show him he’s wrong” he told you after he sat down across from you.

You raised your eyebrow.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’, Y/N? I told you. Your team’s ideas were good. So I wanted you to know that so you can pass that on to the team. I also want you to understand we are not your enemies. I mean our departments are supposed to work together but it somehow seems we keep diverging more and more every day” he sighed.

“And whose fault is that?” you asked.

“I know he has been insufferable lately. But you have to admit, you do enjoy riling him up too. You’ve also made your share of bad decisions and comments because of your rivalry”

“It seems both our teams are suffering” you added to his comment.

You get it. The both of you probably have been ruining a perfectly good job and work environment for both your teams. You wanted it to end. You just didn’t know how to do that. Every time you wanted to try, he would make an absolutely ridiculous comment and you just couldn’t help yourself. You had to answer. He couldn’t win.

“I’ve tried, Seungcheol. You know I have. Even today, at the meeting, I could’ve answered him but I chose not to. It doesn’t matter. Answering, not answering. If I don’t engage with his comments during a meeting, he will find me somehow around this building and make sure to torture me. I don’t know what he wants from me” you said sincerely and he laughed. He laughed loudly. You were more and more confused by the minute.

“Really, Y/N? You really don’t know?” he asked, still laughing.

“I don’t have a crystal ball, Seungcheol. If I did something that offended him when we both started working here, I’m sorry, but I have no fucking clue what that is and it’s been five years. Whatever it was, he should’ve let it go a long time ago” you answered him and he seemed to understand. ‘You really didn’t know’ he thought to himself.

“Well, either way it’s not up to me to bring it up. I just want peace. Both of our teams need peace. So maybe keep that in mind next time you want to answer one of his snarky comments, just saying” he told you as he got up to leave.

“Thank you, Seungcheol. You should’ve been the one promoted, not him” you added before he was out of your office.

“We both know that’s not true. He may be an asshole, but he’s brilliant” he said and left your office.

At least this time, Seungcheol came to deliver good news.

After he left your office, you had a call with your team and explained there wouldn’t be any brainstorming sessions for this account until you hear the advertising team's final verdict on the previous meeting. Everyone was relieved, maybe this would be the beginning of the end of this war. 

You got home absolutely exhausted. Mentally and physically. You didn’t want to cook or clean or do anything. You got a bath ready and decided you were going to order food. Fuck it. You deserved it after this shitshow of a day. 

After your bath and dinner, you just wanted to rest. You went to the couch and turned on ‘New Girl’. You needed something silly to make your soul a little happier today. You had suffered enough. Or so you thought.

Your phone dinged, signaling a text message and you had a bad feeling before you even looked down at the phone on your coffee table. You picked up your phone from the coffee table and of course. It was a text message from ‘The Devil’. Why couldn’t he leave you alone, even after work?!

“You must be really proud about today. Talking to Seungcheol behind my back. I’m not going back on any of my decisions so good luck”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Is this man serious? This is exactly why you can’t stop responding to his shit. He always manages to piss you off beyond reason. Beyond any restraint possible.

“You got it all wrong. Seungcheol came to me. Apparently, you are unreasonable and wrong. None of that is my fault. And, I will win as usual because you are wrong. As usual” you replied.

This would be your only reply of the night. That’s it. Whatever he says next, you will not engage. You can’t. You need to think about both of your teams and you have to stop being selfish and stop this war.

“I’ll take this up the chain if I have to. My team shouldn’t pay for your team’s incompetence” he added. 

And there goes all your restraint. You can take a lot of insults from him but you won’t let him step all over your team.

“My team is far more competent than you. That’s the reason I got promoted first. The only reason you got promoted after me was the fact that your boss can’t stand having a woman in charge of a team and he knew you would be his best bet at having me leave this branch or quit. Now stop texting me outside of work and delete my phone number. I did not give you this number and don’t want you to have it. Thank you.”

That wasn’t too bad. You replied and defended your team but you didn’t add fuel to the fire. It short and concise and to the point and you fucking hope he listens and stops contacting you.

And he did, at least for tonight, he stopped replying. You never found out how he got your personal phone number but ever since he did, he loved texting you once in a while to make sure you weren’t happy outside of work. Apparently, he wanted you to feel miserable all around. He always had some additional comment he forgot to add during work hours and wanted to make sure you were going to bed thinking about it.

You hated him. You never liked saying you hated anyone. It’s such a strong feeling but you were pretty fucking sure this was pure hatred.

He ruined your day at work, and now he had ruined your night of rest and sitcom binging at home. You were so pissed you decided to go to bed and hope tomorrow is a better day.

Except it wasn’t. It wasn’t a better day at all. Jeonghan kept his promise. As soon as he got to work, he went to his boss to make sure his decisions were final. Your boss then started to get involved and for the rest of the week it had been constant meetings and battles regarding this one account. Not only that, but Jeonghan had even been worse this whole week to you and your team. He was on a brand new level of assholeness. You just wanted the week to end. You wanted Friday to come so you could go to the company quarter party and get hammered.

Finally, on Friday, they had come to an agreement that one of the ideas from your team was going to go forward but your team would need to come up with new ones as the other options were vetoed. You didn’t know what to feel. It still felt like a loss and the more he smirked, the worse you felt. You couldn’t not say anything so when your boss asked for agreement on your side, you were very clear on your response.

“We will do it. However, you should know these two people across from us will be the reason we might lose this account and multiple ones in the future” you told your boss and as you turned to Jeonghan’s boss, you continued.

“You can put that on the record and give me a disciplinary warning. I will not stay silent while my team’s work keeps being put in question by people far dumber than any of us simply because the team lead is a woman. You should both be ashamed of the decisions you have made professionally based on your personal hate of me” you finished.

Jeonghan wasn’t smirking anymore. He was staring at the ground like a child that had just been disciplined by their mother or a teacher. You felt proud. You left and went straight to your office. You knew there would be consequences to your words but you can’t deal with this anymore. You are reaching a boiling point with that man and his sexist boss. 

You were pacing around your office trying to calm yourself down. This day was almost over. You were going to enjoy tonight. You wouldn’t let them win and ruin everything. You were going to have a great time with your team and no one was going to stop that from happening. You started to smile thinking about the goofballs in your team and how you were going to have an amazing time when there was a knock at your door. ‘Here we go’ you thought. Your boss was about to rip you a new one.

“Come in”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Jeonghan walked through your office door and you both just stared at each other silently. You didn’t know why he was here but you didn’t care.

“Get out” you said as you walked around your desk to your chair.

“I know things haven’t been ideal but I just wanted to say I don’t hate you. I never have” he said and you laughed while you sat down.

“Well, I hate you, Yoon Jeonghan. Always have. From the very first day you decided to start testing me. Now that that’s settled, please, get out of my office” you said and started packing up your things for the day.

“Hate is a strong word, Y/N”

“Indeed. And you have no idea how much I dislike that word. How much I dislike using it. But, you did that. Congrats. You broke me and managed to make me hate you. Hope it was worth it” you said as you started to walk out of your office.

But just before you left, you had one more thing to add.

“It’s sad really. If you weren’t this way, I truly believe we could’ve made a great team” you told him and then left.

After you got home, you started getting ready for the company’s quarter party and you decided you weren’t going to let this stop you or your team from continuing to do a great job. 

Tonight would be sort of a team building exercise for the five of you. The company liked throwing these parties every quarter and it reminded you a bit of the Dundies in The Office. They also gave silly awards but instead of a trophy, you got a fridge magnet and a chance to donate $25 to a charity of your choosing. It was pretty cool.

Besides, the company usually rented the same hotel ballroom and had an open bar and a DJ after the awards. Everything was free and it truly helped employees unwind and relax after each quarter. You were proud to be a part of this. 

You usually don’t choose to drink too much at these parties since word gets around pretty fast of any embarrassing moments that may have happened after most people had left. Tonight would be different though. You and your team deserved to get hammered and dance until they kicked you out of the hotel.

Once you told your team that, they couldn’t be happier. It’s like they had forgotten everything that has happened in the last few weeks. You were thankful for that. You wanted to feel that way too.

You and Clara took an Uber to the party together and Hoshi, Seokmin and Sunny also did the same. None of you ever wanted to arrive first and be alone at these parties so you usually split up into groups and went together.

The trio arrived first at the party, went to the table marked for your team and moved over to the bar immediately. 

When you and Clara got there, you noticed them at the bar and decided to join them before going to your table and setting your belongings down.

“Starting early, are we?” you asked and laughed along with Clara.

“Hey! It’s the boss! And duh, of course, you said to go wild tonight so we need to start early” Seokmin told you as he sipped his cider.

“Besides, once you see who is the other team sharing the table with us, you’re going to wish you had started drinking earlier, Y/N” Hoshi added and their little trio started laughing. Of course you had to share a table with him. But you won’t let him get to you. Not tonight. You turned to the bartender.

“Whiskey & Coke please, no ice. Thank you”

“Oof, you really meant to go wild. Starting pretty strong, Y/N. Careful or you might do something stupid tonight” Sunny said with a teasing tone and you all laughed together.

After you all had your drinks, you started to move towards the table so you could sit down and hang out as a team. You wanted to take advantage of the fact that the advertising team hadn’t arrived yet.

“Okay so about that ‘doing something stupid tonight’” Clara started to add to Sunny’s previous remarks.

Hoshi and Seokmin started shaking their heads disapprovingly before she even continued her sentence.

“You should fuck Jackson from the IT department, Y/N” Sunny said and everyone whipped around to look at her. Usually, Clara is your problem child. No one quite knew how to react to what she just said.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. You know he wants to fuck you come on. Also, I heard from Cass in HR that he also has a huge--”

“Sunny!” you stopped her before she had a chance to finish her sentence. You and our team couldn’t stop laughing. Who knew Sunny had it in her. You really have to watch out for the quiet ones. They will always surprise you.

“Oh come on, Sunny. If Y/N is fucking anyone with a big cock tonight she might as well hate fuck Jeonghan” Clara added and you just gulped down your drink. She wasn’t going to give up on this idea, It was going to be a long night.

“And how do you know that for a fact? Just because Hana said it, doesn’t mean it’s true” Hoshi started adding fuel to the fire.

“Why would Hana lie about that? And why the fuck would she follow Jeonghan around like a lost puppy if he hadn’t been amazing like she keeps advertising? She was not lying and you should find out for yourself, Y/N” Clara answered.

Everyone looked at you.

“What? I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response” you said and Clara laughed.

“Hmm… Sounds like maybe you’re interested in finding out… Or are you just jealous that Hana got to him first?” Clara asked and they all started laughing and agreeing with her. You loved them all but sometimes you wanted to kill them.

“Sounds like she is both jealous and interested in finding out” someone whispered in your ear from behind you.

All your team members stopped laughing and went silent. They knew better than to laugh at what Jeonghan just said, no matter how funny it was. Jeonghan walked around from behind you with Seungcheol and they both sat down across from your team at the table.

“I already told you, Yoon. No matter how many times you dream about it, it’s never going to happen” you said and started getting up to get another drink. You need a lot more alcohol to get through tonight.

“We’ll see” he said as you were walking away.

There will be no more peace tonight at that table. And you know once your team gets enough drinks in them, it’s going to get even messier. Funny thing is both your teams get along great with each other. You and Jeonghan seem to be the only ones ruining all the fun.

When you got to the bar, you decided to just get a coke. Dinner was to come, followed by the awards and there will be a lot of wine. You need to pace yourself. You don’t want to end up completely drunk. Definitely not at that table.

Surprisingly, dinner went over smoothly. Everyone was talking and having fun with each other. Clara kept throwing in some comments about you and Jeonghan and everyone seemed to enjoy it so all you did in those moments was roll your eyes. The only two people not interacting with each other were you and Jeonghan.

The awards started and it was always quite fun. People gave great speeches and they roasted themselves and their colleagues and bosses. You always had a blast. You had won a few of these before but not recently so you were surprised when you were called in to receive the ‘Warrior of the Branch’ award. ‘Clever’ you thought to yourself.

You went over to get handed your fridge magnet by your boss and she winked at you as she handed it to you.

“Well, I would say this is a surprise but it isn’t. Even today I got a disciplinary warning for defending myself and my team so it makes sense. There’s only one person I need to thank for this because he is the reason I wake up every morning, look in the mirror and tell myself all the reasons why I shouldn’t commit murder that day. I gotta tell you, most days I don’t care about those reasons and so thank you Hoshi, for taking the knife out of my hands, forcibly” you paused as everyone laughed with you.

“So, thank you Jeonghan. I never thought any good would come from hating you, but I’m sure the charity I choose tonight will think otherwise” you ended your speech. Everyone clapped and you started heading back to your seat. You noticed Jeonghan was no longer at your table. Were you too harsh?

“You could cut him some slack, Y/N” Wonwoo from Jeonghan’s team spoke up and everyone went silent.

“He doesn’t cut me any slack, why should I cut him some?” you asked in response and left the table.

You didn’t know where Jeonghan went and you didn’t know if he left the table because of your speech but how is this fair? You always get treated like the bad guy when he is the one that started all of this. He is the one that tortures you on a daily basis. But somehow, whenever he gets upset, it all gets turned around on you. 

You needed to hide for now. You wanted to be alone. You were sick of all of this. To be honest, you don’t know how much more you can take before you transfer branches or even quit altogether. 

You went to the usual place in this hotel you go to hide whenever you start to feel overwhelmed at these parties. There was a small room on the side of the ballroom that was also rented out to your company. It was used to store all the awards and company belongings before the awards started and your boss has always given you the key to the room after they’ve emptied it out. She knew you often need time and space to yourself away from everyone. She was one of the reasons you haven’t given up on this job just yet.

You unlocked the room and walked through the door. You didn’t turn the lights on, no need. You locked the door behind you and moved to the window. It was a beautiful, huge window that had a nice sofa in front of it. You loved sitting there and staring outside in silence. This window was facing the garden that surrounded the back portion of the hotel and you loved to sit there and just look at the trees in peace.

“No fair. I thought I was the only one that had the key to this room after they were done using it” Jeonghan spoke up from across the room. He was sitting in a lounge chair and the moonlight was allowing you to see his face. He looked upset. 

“It appears life isn’t fair for either of us. I love being alone here, yet here you are” you said and turned back to the window.

For a while there was only silence. All you could hear in this room was both of you breathing. You were staring out the window. He was staring at you. You were sure of it. You could feel his eyes on you. It wasn’t uncomfortable. You just never knew what he wanted and you were too tired to try to figure it out at this moment.

“I really can’t stand hearing you say you hate me, you know that?” he asked you.

You turned to look at him again and scoffed.

“How is that my problem? You did this to yourself” you said and turned back to the window.

You really hoped this was it. That he wasn’t going to talk to you anymore. You didn’t mind sharing this space in silence.

“Why do you always have to answer me with such disdain? I understand I’ve been hard on you and your team but you’re taking this a bit too far don’t you think?” he asked you as he got up from his chair and started to walk over to you.

And here it was. The reason why you could never keep quiet and not answer him. He always seemed to be completely detached from reality. He’s the one torturing you, yet he thinks he’s the victim. Typical.

“You’ve been hard on me and my team?? You’ve been a nightmare, Jeonghan. At work and outside of it. You actively seek me out to torture me whenever you get the chance but somehow I’m to blame?” you got up from the sofa and started raising your voice at him. You two were standing a little too close to each other.

“You’ve spent years trying to destroy everything I’m trying to build for myself, for no apparent reason and you act surprised when you hear me say that I hate you? How can I not? You’ve pushed me this far, it’s your fault and I’ll keep saying it no matter how upset you pretend to be: I hate--”

He kissed you. You couldn't finish your sentence. He kissed you hard. He grabbed you by the neck with one hand and held your body close to his with the other and he kept kissing you. And you let him. 

Not only did you let him kiss you but you kissed him back just as hard. Your hands were on the collar of his shirt and you were both just a tangled mess. Trying to devour each other. All the anger you both had accumulated over the years led up to this moment. Neither of you could think. Neither of you could stop. 

He started walking you back to the sofa you had just been sitting on, and once you reached it, he started lowering you down on it. He was on top of you, kissing you and you couldn’t help but to place your legs around his waist and pull him closer. When you both started to moan into each others’ mouths, he pulled away from you.

“Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave right now. We’ll pretend this never happened” he told you sincerely.

You could tell he meant it. He was giving you a chance to back out of this. To stop this before you crossed the ultimate line with him. And as hard as it was to admit, you didn’t want him to stop. 

You couldn’t remember the last time anyone kissed you and touched you like this. Now that you think about it, you don’t think anyone has kissed you and touched you this way before. Full of passion and lust. 

“Don’t stop” you answered him.

He silently nodded and lowered himself to kiss you again. He started moving his hands down your body. Touching you everywhere. As if he was trying to memorize the shape of you in case this was just a dream or in case he would never get the chance to touch you like this again. He moved down and started to kiss down your neck, moving to your cleavage next as one of his hands was moving towards your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You’re gonna kill me one of these days, I swear, angel” he said once his hand reached your panties and he started massaging your clit over your now ruined underwear. 

He was right, you were dripping. You wanted this so bad. You wanted him. Especially now that he was saying all the right things. He pulled away from you and moved down your body.

“I really wish I could take my fucking time with you but you had to let me fuck you for the first time here” Jeonghan said disapprovingly and you sighed.

He lowered his face to your pussy and started to leave open mouthed kisses to your clothed core. He was driving you insane. You started to moan. You needed him to stop taking his time.

“Fuck, angel… You’re a loud one, aren’t you? I should’ve known from your smart mouth. Let’s find a way to keep you quiet, hmm?” he said as he started to take your panties off.

“Be a good girl and open up, angel” he told you after taking your panties off and tapping your lips twice with his fingers. 

Fuck, why did you love being praised so much? And how the fuck did he know this was exactly the way you like it? It doesn’t matter. You did what he asked and opened your mouth. He pushed your panties into your mouth and whispered ‘good girl’ to you while he pulled back to move back down to your pussy.

He collected your juices on his fingers and started to suck them while looking into your eyes. You moaned into your panties and your breathing was starting to get erratic. He gave you a short laugh and moved down to latch on to your clit. He started sucking on it aggressively while his fingers moved around your hole. Just teasing you. He was going to be the death of you. 

You wiggled your hips and he laughed again. He wanted to take his time with you but the loudness in the room next to you reminded him that he needed to hurry if he wanted to be inside of you tonight. So he gave in to what both of you desperately wanted. He started eating you out like it was his last day on earth. His mouth was on your clit and two of his fingers finally got inside of you.

He set a fast pace from the start and you could tell he was responding and adjusting his movements every time you moaned a little too loud. He wanted to understand what could make you cum the fastest. He wanted to learn what made you more and more desperate and he quickly found the answers he was looking for.

His fingers found your g-spot and he kept making sure he hit it every single time. Same thing for his tongue and mouth on your clit. As soon as he found the rhythm that made you scream into your panties, he kept at it.

He wanted to make you feel pleasure like you never had before and he was going to make sure this wasn’t going to be a one time thing. He was going to find out everything about you and your body and guarantee you would want him back in your arms after tonight.

After just a few moments of hitting the right spots and keeping at the right pace, you started getting louder and louder and he wished he could hear you more clearly. You were so close. No one had ever made you cum this fast in your life and you didn’t want to fight it or hold back. One of your hands went to your tits to massage them and the other went to his hair. He started to moan into your pussy and once his free hand grabbed your thigh so fucking hard it could leave bruises behind, you finally came into his mouth. 

You were loud when you came. Jeonghan started looking towards the door to make sure no one heard you too. He was begging inside his head for you two to not be interrupted now. Not now, that he was so close to getting inside of you.

Once he realized no one heard you two and now that you were coming down from your high, he reached into his jacket pocket and took out his wallet. He threw his jacket on the floor, unzipped his pants and started to lower them and his boxers to his knees. 

You finally opened your eyes after your high and looked at Jeonghan. He was getting a condom out of his wallet and you could see his half naked bottom half now.

Hana had not been lying. He was big. Almost too big. You didn’t know how he was going to fit inside of you, but fuck it if you weren’t going to try your best. He caught you staring and he started smirking.

“It’s gonna fit. You’re a good little angel so you’re gonna take me in just right, don’t worry” he told you as he rolled down the condom onto his cock.

Fuck, you could’ve cum right there on the spot after what he said. All you could do was nod and he smiled at you.

He lowered himself on top of you and he started guiding is cock into your hole. You were so wet, there was no resistance. He started to slowly rock into you and pushed more and more of his cock into you. After his third big stroke, he finally pushed all the way into you and bottomed out. You moaned so loudly into your panties. You had never felt anything like this before. You were so fucking full. You couldn’t stop clenching around him. And he was already just as wrecked as you. You could tell by the way he moaned into your neck.

After a few moments, you were ready. You needed him to move, so you moved your hips a bit to signal him.

“Not yet, angel. Please, you have to stop squeezing me like that or I’ll be very embarrassed very soon and this is definitely not the way I want this to end” he told you and you smiled. You did your best to stop squeezing his cock and you began touching his hair as you wrapped yourself even more around him. 

Once he was ready, he finally started to move. He pulled back a bit from you and held your hips in place as he pushed into you with long and hard strokes. He again made sure to find your g-spot as soon as he could and once he did, he sped up his movements. He began the abuse on your g-spot. Fast and hard. He was gonna make you cum like this and so quickly again.

You were holding each other as his pace got faster and harder and you kept your eyes locked in on each other. He kept cussing and whispering praises as you both got closer and closer.

Once he started to feel you squeezing him more and more, he knew you were close and he knew he was right behind you. He bit his lips to lower the volume of his moans and you kept moaning into your panties just as loud as you did before. One of his hands moved from your hips to rub your clit and just that touch sent you over the edge again. As you squeezed him, he came into the condom and moaned into your ear.

After you both came down from your highs, you took your panties out of your mouth and you both just laid there with each other in complete silence as your breaths evened out. All you could hear was the noise from the other room where the award portion of the night seemed to have stopped and the DJ set had started.

He raised his head from your neck, looked into your eyes and kissed you. Not as hard as he had when this all began. It was soft, almost gentle. You could tell he wanted to cherish this moment which you both knew might never happen again. Little did he know, you also wanted to cherish this just as much.

After that kiss, he got up, threw the condom away and got dressed. You cleaned yourself up with some tissue paper that was on the desk and tried to look presentable again. As you took your panties to put them on, he stopped you.

“I’m keeping them, angel” he said as he took the panties from your hand and put them in his jacket pocket. You don’t know why but you didn’t protest. You let him take them. 

“I’ll leave first. Make sure to wait a bit, just in case” he told you and you laughed.

“Even if I went out there with you, there would be no way anyone would think we just snuck out to fuck” you told him and he nodded with a smile on his face.

You waited for about 20 minutes after he left to go back into the ballroom where everyone was now getting hammered and dancing like it was their last night on earth.

You needed a drink. Or several. ‘What the fuck just happened?’ you asked yourself. You just fucked someone you have been hating for five years. Maybe hate was a strong word after all.

“You’re back! Where the fuck were you?” an already drunk Hoshi asked you.

“Sorry, was pissed off but then I remembered I made you guys a promise so I came back” you told him and he smiled. 

“Catch up then. You are several drinks behind and Clara has been asking for her dancing twin” Hoshi added before he started to dance away from you and back to the dancefloor. If you were going to live up to Clara’s loving nickname, you would need to catch up indeed. There is no way you were about to make a fool out of yourself in front of your colleagues sober.

The rest of the night went as expected. Everyone on your team got way too drunk and you ended up just a bit buzzed and babysitting them all. It was okay though. They needed this more than you at this point and that was very clear. At the end of the night, you practically had to drag them all into their Ubers. You got help from Seungcheol and Jeonghan who were also very drunk but trying to be as helpful as possible. 

The weekend went by fast. And next thing you know it’s Monday again. You were nervous going into work for the first time in years. You didn’t know what to expect from Jeonghan. Would he ignore you? Would the usual behavior stop? Would he tell everyone and embarrass you? You had no idea. You didn’t think he was that cruel but you never knew what was going on inside his head. He was always so hard to read and in this situation it might bite you in the ass.

To your surprise, the next two weeks passed by without any incidents. Jeonghan had apologized to you in front of both of your teams and told everyone he would be more patient and cooperative in finding solutions that worked for everyone. At first, everyone was shocked and a bit suspicious at the whole situation. They were all asking you what happened and what changed and you didn’t know what to say. You told them about what you had said to your boss and to his boss in the last meeting you four had had and they all agreed he probably saw the error of his ways then.

You knew better. You knew what had happened between the two of you after that meeting. You want to know if that’s what made him change but you haven’t had the opportunity to ask him yet. And, you were also nervous to ask him.

Now that your teams were closer, you actually started to have lunch together at the company’s cafeteria. It was weird at first. But now everyone is over that initial weirdness and you actually enjoy having lunch with all of them. Jeonghan’s team is funny. You already knew Seungcheol and Wonwoo well, but now you got to know Silvia and Joshua more. They were absolute sweethearts and you felt bad you hadn’t gotten to know them better earlier. 

Jeonghan had never brought it up with you. Whatever happened between the two of you. You would never admit it to him but you were disappointed. You were hoping this wasn’t going to be a one time thing. Especially now that he has become a great colleague and partner at work. You see him in a whole different light now and you wished he felt the same way. But you were stubborn. You were definitely not going to tell him.

Today, during lunch time, Clara decided to be Clara and show her true colors for the first time in front of Jeonghan and his team.

“Hey, Y/N, did you ever fuck, Jackson at the quarter party? There was some suggestion of that and you did disappear for a while…” she said and everyone whipped their heads to look at her.

Jeonghan’s team was shocked and staring at Clara. Jeonghan however, was staring at you and you alone. He looked angry.

“Clara, please stop being yourself in front of the other team. They don’t know you’re clinically insane” you said as you scolded her.

“What? It was a fair question. He has always wanted to get into your pants and he’s hot. If you haven’t already, you should go for it” she added and Hoshi laughed.

“Clara how can you know so much around the office but not know the reason why Jackson wanted to bone Y/N” Hoshi said and you groaned and made a disgusted face.

“Even I know there was a bet within the IT team to fuck Y/N” Sunny added and Clara looked disgusted.

“Okay. I was wrong. Never listen to me again, Y/N” she said and you laughed.

“It’s funny that you think I would ever listen to you when it comes to people I would fuck” you said and they all laughed. Except Jeonghan. He was not amused by this conversation at all and he seemed to get in a worse mood when Jackson decided to walk up to your tables.

“It’s so nice to see my favorite teams finally together. What a happy ending for everyone” Jackson said and everyone greeted him and nodded in agreement. He then turned to you and you could swear you felt Jeonghan move his chair closer to yours.

“Hey, Y/N. I have tickets for the premiere of the movie you mentioned you wanted to see a while back and wanted to ask if you would like to join me Thursday night?” Jackson asked and everyone went silent. You could cut the tension with a knife.

“No, thanks, Jackson. But have a great time, I heard the movie is amazing” you said politely as you began clearing your tray and got up to leave. Jackson and both teams were looking at each other awkwardly before Jackson spoke up.

“That could’ve gone better… Anyway, have a good day guys” 

“I don’t get what is so hard about understanding a simple no. He’s heard it so many times from her yet he won’t stop annoying her” Seokmin said as everyone started clearing out.

Everyone left to continue their work day. You were in your office prepping for the interdepartmental meeting later today between your team and Jeonghan. Even if he has been nicer lately, you always want to make sure you leave him no room to say no.

Today, it would be Seokmin presenting his ideas for a new account your company got and it was his first time presenting solo. You needed it to go well so that Seokmin gained the confidence to do this more often. But, because the universe hates you, the presentation did not go well at all. Jeonghan had chosen to be insufferable again and go back to his old ways. He kept vetoing all of Seokmin’s plans left and right with the most ridiculous of reasons and you reached your boiling point when he started interrupting Seokmin before he could explain his reasoning as well.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today? Are you back on your bullshit? If so, I would appreciate it if my team gets the memo next time” you asked Jeonghan and everyone went silent. Here we go again.

“Don’t start with me, Y/N. This wasn’t a good presentation. Most of his ideas are flawed and not reasonable at all for this client. Go back, review and come back to us” Jeonghan told you as he got up to leave.

“You’re forgetting you’re not our boss, Jeonghan. We don’t work for your team. We work with your team. You are the one that needs to go back, review the content and come up with a reasonable and logical explanation on why you want to veto all of this. Have fun” you told him as you signaled to your team to get up and leave with you.

“That’s it? No fight? Just sending me back to review things? Can’t handle me anymore, Y/N? I should’ve known… Last time, you barely handled what I gave you” he said teasingly and you stopped in your tracks. You walked towards Jeonghan and both your teams moved away from the both of you. They knew better than to get involved. 

You knew that last comment wasn’t about the last meeting you had and the last time you fought. It was about that night. He was smirking now. You needed to wipe that smirk off his face. 

“Oh I handled it perfectly well. In fact, if I remember correctly, I handled it so well that someone was ready to tap out very prematurely… How embarrassing…” you told him and he was no longer smirking. Perfect.

“Are we still talking about work?” Hoshi whispered to Joshua.

“I fucking hope so” Joshua said out loud and it snapped you out of staring at Jeonghan. You started to move towards your team and leave the meeting room.

“Like I said, review and come back to us. With data. No more of this theoretical bullshit or ‘I’ll take this up the chain if I have to’” you said as you mocked him from what he had once told you.

That felt good. Your team started to laugh and cheer on Seokmin after you left the meeting room. Before everyone went back to their desk on the floor, you decided to have a word with Seokmin. You didn’t want him to overthink this.

“Seokmin, can we have a word in my office, please?” you asked him and he nodded and smiled at you. You both walked to your office and sat down on the corner couch you had.

“Don’t take this personally, and don’t you dare think you did a bad job. If your ideas had not been good, I wouldn’t have let you present them. None of the team members would have. He’s probably having a bad day and wanted to take it out on you. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” you asked him and he nodded.

“I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. I know I’m the only one that hasn’t done this by myself and I don’t want to disappoint the team” he said with a sad smile.

“You could never disappoint any of us. Their team will review and we will reach a good compromise. I’m sure most of your plans for this account will come through. Let him get over himself” you said and you both laughed.

“Thank you” he added and you hugged each other.

After Seokmin left your office, you rushed to get your reports done to leave on time. You had an exhausting day and both Jackson and Jeonghan had decided to piss you off today. You needed your bed desperately. Your boss needed the final reports today and you had spent most of your time helping Seokmin prep. You were very late and you didn’t know if you would be able to finish them on time. But, no matter how tired you were, you were too proud to not do your job properly. 

You sent your boss a message letting her know you wouldn’t be able to deliver the reports before 6PM but that you would finish them tonight. You also told her since it was poor time management on your side, you would do the overtime without any additional pay needed. Maybe not the smartest decision but it’s your decision to make. Your boss agreed with the promise you wouldn’t stay too late. She was incredible.

6PM came around and everyone had either left the office or was about to and you were jealous. You had a headache and needed a break. You were halfway through and you decided a power nap was needed. ‘This is why you got that couch’ you thought.

You took a 30 minute nap and got back to work. You ordered dinner and ate at your desk while you finished your reports. By 9PM you were done. Finally. You can go home to your shower and bed. You couldn’t wait.

Except the universe was never kind to you and someone was knocking at your office door. You hoped it was the cleaning crew kicking you out so you told them to come in.

“Working late? Thought I was the only one left here” Jeonghan said as he walked into your office and locked the door behind him. He was leaning on your desk with his arms crossed as you started getting your purse and jacket to leave.

“That’s what happens when you’re an asshole. You get to stay late and review your mistakes. Good news is you must have made a lot of extra money with the overtime hours you rack up” you told him and you signaled him to move to the door.

“You’re not leaving yet. Come here” he told you and it surprised you. 

You didn’t particularly like being told what to do, and never by him. This time it felt different though. The air felt like it did the night of the party. Since the party he hadn’t tried anything with you at all. You assumed this was never going to happen again. That he got what he wanted and that was it. So why was he standing here now, asking you to move closer to him?

He sighed and uncrossed his arms to place them on your desk.

“Come closer, angel. Don’t fight me, you know you want to be closer to me just as much as I want to be closer to you right now” Jeonghan said and you audibly gulped. Fuck… Why does he have to call you angel and why do you like it so much? You were doomed at this rate.

You took your jacket off and placed it and your purse on the hanger close to the door. You walked towards him until you were close enough to feel his breath on you.

“You’ve been staying away from me since that night. So why now, Jeonghan?” you asked him. You wanted to know what was on his mind. Why he hadn’t tried getting closer to you until today.

“I assumed it was a one time thing. I thought you were gonna regret it and tell me it was a mistake. I didn’t want to hear that. Ignorance is bliss, I guess” he answered and you nodded.

“So why tonight? What made you take the chance of getting turned down?” you asked teasingly.

“I don’t like Jackson. At lunch, that whole scene made me… Angry. After our meeting I had time to think. Your snarky comment about our night together and your brutal rejection of Jackson made it clear for me. If you were going to reject me, you would’ve done it at the party” he told you as he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Bold of you to assume that just because I let you fuck me that night, I wouldn’t reject you now” 

“Do it then, Y/N. Tell me to fuck off. I will leave and never bother you again”

You stayed silent.

He nodded and began to move away from you. You grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving.

He turned around, stepped closer to you and kissed you. It was just like that first kiss at the party. He was grabbing your neck and your hip and pulling you impossibly close to him and you were pulling him just as close to you.

“The cleaning crew is going to be here soon. Why do you only let me fuck you like this? In a hurry? You’re unfair, angel” 

“It’s your fault too. Of all the days and times to come here and fuck me and you chose right now” 

“Don’t worry, now that I know you’ll let me keep fucking you, we’ll have plenty of time to make up for it, angel” he said as he moved you both towards your desk.

When you reached your desk, he turned you around so your back was against his chest. He moved your hair out of the way and dove in to kiss your neck. You were already beginning to moan. It had been too long since he fucked you. You should’ve told him you wanted more right after that night. He bent you over your desk and started to rub his clothed hard cock against your ass. He took his tie off and kept rubbing himself on you.

“You can’t be loud again, angel. Not tonight” he told you as he moved his tie to your lips. He was going to gag you with his tie. Fuck, you were already dripping and ruining your panties.

You nodded and he placed the tie between your lips. You felt him tighten the tie around the back of your head. Like a leash. You moaned and he laughed. He loved to see you fall apart like this, with the simplest of actions. 

He unbuttoned your pants and pulled all your bottom half clothing down in one swift motion. He spanked you and kept rubbing his hard cock against your bare ass. He held your hip with one hand and moved to rub circles on your clit with the other.

“I love how you're always dripping for me. It makes it hard to believe you when you say you hate me, angel” he said and laughed.

All you could do was moan. He was alternating between rubbing circles on your clit and fingering you. He was spreading your juices everywhere. He wanted to get you as wet as possible but he seemed to be avoiding making you cum right away. Like he wanted to save it. You wiggled your hips. You wanted to cum. He laughed again.

“I’m just getting you ready to take me, angel. You’re cumming on my cock tonight”

After a few minutes of torture, you heard him unzip his pants and move around. You could only assume he was getting naked and getting a condom from the sounds you were hearing.

“You ready, angel?” he asked as he massaged your ass. 

You could feel his cock on your ass now. You were too eager but you couldn’t help yourself. You nodded and said a muffled  ‘please’. Just like you, he couldn’t wait anymore. It had been too long since the last time this happened. He placed his cock against your hole and started to push in impossibly slow.

He kept doing shallow strokes, pushing a bit more of his cock in each time. You had no idea how he was this patient but you couldn’t wait anymore. On one of his shallow strokes you pushed back hard until he bottomed out and you both moaned loudly. Your moan had been muffled but his was not. Fuck, you didn’t want to get caught like this. He spanked you, hard.

“You wanna get caught, hmm? Bad fucking angel…”

You kept squeezing him and trying to move but he was holding you still.

“Fuck, it had been way too long. Have we learned our lesson, angel? You’re gonna let me fuck you whenever we want from now on, right?” he asked and you nodded immediately. He leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Good girl. I’m going to go hard now. Better fucking handle it like you said today hmm? If you need me to stop, tap your desk twice with both hands”

You nodded again and before you were done nodding he started to fuck you hard. You were surprised your desk wasn’t moving at all from the force of his strokes. You started to move back and match his pace and you both started panting fast. You knew much like last time, neither of you would last long. 

He pulled on the makeshift leash to pull back your head and increased his pace. You were getting so close. You just needed a bit more. He moved his hand from your hip to your clit and started rubbing it furiously. You got louder and louder and kept squeezing him tighter and tighter.

“Is my good angel going to cum on my cock? Do it, I need to feel you cum around me again” 

And as soon as he finished his sentence, you came with a cry of his name against the tie. He kept fucking you through your high and you kept squeezing his cock.

He kept whispering ‘fuck’ and ‘good girl’ under his breath. You knew he was getting closer and you started pushing back on him harder and harder. You wanted to push him over the edge. You wanted him to feel the way you feel right now. In perfect bliss. And a few moments later, he came as he leaned over you. He laid his whole body against yours as you both evened out your breaths.

You both got dressed and took turns using the bathroom in your office to clean yourselves. As you were getting ready to leave, you yawned so loud and he laughed at you.

“Don’t you dare make a cocky comment, Jeonghan”

“I won’t but let me take you home, please”

“And let you have my address? You already have my phone number and that’s enough”

He stopped smiling and started to leave as well.

“Hey, I’m joking. That’s what we do, right?” you asked him. You didn’t want him to leave like this.

“Sometimes your words hurt, Y/N. I know I’ve fucked up a lot but I never wanted you to hate me and think this low of me”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful of what I say from now on. Promise. But I don’t want to lose the snarky back and forth between us” 

He smiled. He only wished you would have told him you never have hated him as well.

That night you let him give you a ride home. You were too tired to drive. It was nice. During that car ride you found out he has a beautiful singing voice. You also found out a few more things about him during your conversation. He likes legos and has a pet rock. He, Seungcheol and Joshua are like brothers. And, he loves pranks. This last one you could’ve guessed easily.

You also told him about yourself. You love reading and camping. You also like legos and have a few sets built in your office at home. You scare easily and have to deal with your team constantly jump scaring you because it’s hilarious to see you suffer, apparently.

It was a good drive. When you said your goodbyes, he told you he would text you more and you should do the same. He wanted to get to know you and he wanted to meet up in places he could fuck you slowly and have you be as loud as possible. You smacked his arm after this last comment but you agreed. He was a good guy overall and you were interested in continuing this… Whatever this was. 

For the next month, you met up with him regularly. Usually after work and at his place. He had bent you over his desk and your desk a few times after a heated argument in a meeting but you tried fucking each other in more private places. He loved hearing you scream his name and you loved having him desperate for you. In this month, he had also found out what a tease you were. You enjoyed riling him up and making him wait before he could fuck you. It was a dangerous game but you both loved it this way.

No one at work seemed to notice anything and you didn’t know if Seungcheol and Joshua knew given how close they were to Jeonghan but if they knew, they had been very discreet about it. Jackson kept trying to ask you out and Hana kept following Jeonghan around like a puppy as usual. You had to say this last part wasn’t your favorite. You knew he wasn’t interested but still. She had fucked him before you. And that pissed you off. Jeonghan knows it too and he loves teasing you about it.

One line you haven’t crossed with Jeonghan yet was having him in your apartment. You didn’t know why but you were trying to avoid having him there. It was your space, you loved living there. You were proud of having been able to buy it all on your own. What if one day this ended terribly and then you were stuck with memories of him around that place? You didn’t want to ever be sad inside of that apartment so you tried keeping him away.

Jeonghan wasn’t dumb though. He knew you were trying to keep him away from your apartment. He tried being understanding but he was getting tired of it. This wasn’t fair. You had been in his apartment multiple times. He had fucked you in almost all available surfaces in his apartment and he wanted to do the same in yours. So he did the most Jeonghan thing possible. He texted you asking if you were free and once you said yes he showed up at your door. 

“This is why I didn’t want you to have my address. How did you find out my apartment number?” you asked as you let him in your apartment.

“The same way I got your phone number. A magician never reveals his secrets though” he answered as he took his jacket and shoes off.

You were looking at him moving around your apartment. He was looking at every picture frame, every detail, every room and you just followed him silently through your apartment.

“So this is what you were hiding from me? It’s very you” he said smiling as you both moved towards your bedroom.

“If you knew I was hiding it from you, why would you come here uninvited?” you asked teasingly.

“I don’t like secrets. And you’ve been to my apartment multiple times. It was only fair”

“I should be angry at you, Jeonghan”

You asked him as you moved closer to him.

“But you aren’t angry at all. Isn’t that right, angel?” 

You nodded with a pout on your face and he laughed as he moved your hair away from your face. He kissed you and you started unbuttoning his pants. Between kisses, you undressed each other until you were both completely naked. You kissed down his body until you were on your knees in front of him. You grabbed his cock and started to stroke it. He moved both his hands to your hair and intertwined them. Before he could say anything, you started to lick and suck his tip and he moaned.

“Don’t be a tease tonight, angel”

You batted your eyelashes at him innocently but you did what he asked and you started to suck him off just how he liked it. After a month of meeting up, you had gotten pretty good at fitting as much of his cock down your throat as possible. You were both very fucking proud of it. 

With your hands, you stroked whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth and throat and massaged his balls. That always got him so close. You wanted him to cum more than once tonight. You knew he could. You had talked about it before but he had always held off on it. He came here tonight without your permission, so you were going to make him cum at least twice, you had decided. He pulled you off of him by your hair before you could continue your plan and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“What are you playing at, angel?”

“Want to make you feel good, Jeonghan. Isn’t that why we’re doing this?” you answered him in your most innocent voice but you knew he wasn’t buying it. Before he could protest, you kissed him, deeply.

“Wanna ride you” you whispered against his lips and he groaned before moving away from you towards the bed.

You got a condom and threw it on the bed. He was sitting and leaning on the headboard. After he put the condom on, he signaled you to come over to him and you crawled to him. He whispered ‘good girl’ against your lips and kissed you again. You could never get enough of his kisses. He always kissed you with such passion. Like he could lose you at any moment.

You turned your back to him and placed your legs on either side of him. He hummed and placed both hands on your ass cheeks to massage them.

“Reverse tonight? I wanted to see your pretty face, angel”

You hummed and started to rub your pussy up and down on his cock. You knew he would forget all about looking at your face if you just kept pushing him. And you were right. He held your hips and pulled you closer to his cock. He aligned his cock with your hole and you didn’t wait any longer. You started bouncing on his cock without any warning. By now, you were more than used to his size and even if it stung a little bit you wanted to push him tonight. You were going to get what you wanted. You kept up an agonizing pace, bouncing hard and fast and you could hear his pants and grunts getting louder and louder. He placed both hands on your hips and tried to change your pace.

“Slow down, let me enjoy this, angel”

You shook your head no and kept going. His hands tried resisting your movements at first but after a few more bounces he gave up and let you speed up again. You started to touch your clit to get you to cum faster. You knew having you cum on his cock always made him cum as well. You were getting closer and you could tell he was too by the way he was squeezing your ass with both his hands and by the sounds he was making. He calls you angel all the time but he’s the one that sounds like an angel even in the most depraved of moments.

You kept rubbing your clit until you came. He came right after you into the condom with a grunt of your name. After you both started to come down from your highs, you felt good enough to keep going. He was still hard and once he tried moving underneath you, you stopped him by bouncing on his cock again. You started your rhythm back up, merciless and you heard him whine. You had never heard him make that noise before and you needed to hear it again. You weren’t going to stop. He was going to cum inside you again. You were going to make sure of it.

After your initial bounces, he spanked you hard.

“I knew you were up to something. Want to get more of my cum, hmm? One load is not good enough for you angel?” he asked between moans and you kept going. Harder. Faster. And he snapped.

He pushed you off of him and on all fours. He took the condom off, threw it on the ground and slapped your pussy hard. You moaned his name. 

“You want another one? Better fucking take it all then”

He pushed his cock into you completely. Your elbows gave out on you and he took the chance to push your head down on the mattress with his hand as he started to fuck you hard. 

Usually you would need more to cum, but his dominant aura, the way he pushed you down on the mattress and the way he’s fucking you raw are just enough and you cum again. This time your hands are grabbing the bed sheets desperately and you are whining and moaning. That was fucking intense and Jeonghan didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you hard. His moans and grunts get louder and louder. He pulled out and started stroking his cock with his free hand. After a couple of strokes he came on your back. You could feel rope after rope of cum just painting your back and you couldn’t stop smiling. You both laid there exhausted for a bit before he got up and cleaned you up. 

“I’m guessing that’s what you wanted to achieve tonight” he said as he laid next to you on the bed again.

“Hmm… That’s what you get for coming here uninvited”

“If that’s your way of trying to keep me away from here, you’re doing a piss poor job at it, angel” he said and you both laughed.

You didn’t know why, but after that night things felt different. All lines had been crossed between you. Before it had felt like there was a separation between whatever was going on with you and Jeonghan and the rest of your life. But after that night everything felt intertwined. You didn’t know how to feel about it. So you decided maybe some time apart would be best for the two of you.

You didn’t want to tell him this. If there was one thing you had learned about Jeonghan in the time you spent together was that he could be quite sensitive and misinterpret your words. You didn’t want that to happen so you simply replied to him saying you were tired or busy and couldn’t meet up. He seemed to understand. You had successfully avoided him but you hadn’t sorted out your feelings yet. But it didn’t matter. Tonight was your team building monthly dinner and you were going to focus on them only. 

You were running late and your team started texting you non-stop. You had to reassure them you were on your way. You were usually never late so you understood where their concerns were coming from. 

Your Uber stopped in front of the restaurant and in the rush of getting out of it and joining your team, you ran into a couple getting into the restaurant. You apologized without even getting a proper look at them and start to go into the restaurant but a familiar voice calls you back.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Hana said excitedly.

You looked at her and the person next to her and you had to blink a few times to make sure you were actually seeing this. You didn’t say a word. Hana started looking between you and Jeonghan and cleared her throat. You finally looked back at her.

“We're having our team dinner here” you said dryly. 

“We would join you but we are on a date! Have a great team dinner and say hi to everyone for us” she said excitedly and all you could do was nod.

The three of you silently walked into the restaurant and you spotted your team right away. You walked over to the table and tried your best to pretend whatever you just saw didn’t bother you. This wasn’t the time or the place. Whatever you felt had to be sorted much later on.

You weren’t at your best during this team dinner and your team could tell. They didn’t say anything because they knew you were trying your best. You still joined your team for bowling and tried having as much fun as possible. 

You didn’t know what happened to Jeonghan and Hana. You couldn’t see their table from yours and you didn’t see them leave before you did. You were… Confused. You never established anything. You never said you were exclusive. You never said you were going to date other people but it somehow felt like he had lied to you. He always told you he wasn’t interested in Hana. Why did he lie? And how long had they been dating? Was he fucking you while dating her? You honestly didn’t know if you wanted to find out. You knew it was time to end whatever had been happening between the two of you. You were surprised Jeonghan hadn’t messaged you or tried to contact you at all. But maybe that was for the best.

You weren’t much of a believer in getting signs from the universe, but after not talking to Jeonghan at all for the past week about the restaurant incident, you got what would be considered by many, a sign. 

Your boss called you into her office and made you an offer. The branch four hours away from yours had been struggling to find a good team lead and a good manager for their marketing department. While she explained to you, you couldn’t move up to department manager just yet, you would have the opportunity to do so in the future if you joined them now at the team lead level. You both knew your boss wasn’t going to go anywhere any time soon. She was the manager of the marketing department and she had just been promoted when you were. If you wanted to move up to manager soon, your best option would be to accept this offer. However, you wouldn’t accept it without speaking to your team first.

Long story short, your team was pissed. Hoshi yelled at you for the first time in his life and both Clara and Sunny cried. Seokmin seemed to be holding it together pretty well, surprisingly. 

“I know this isn’t ideal… But it’s a great opportunity for me. And, it doesn’t mean I’m staying there permanently. I have to try though, you know that” you said as you tried to calm Hoshi down.

“You better not like your team over there more than us” Seokmin said with a sad smile.

“Never. We’re the dream team” you reassured him. 

It took you a while but you were able to calm Hoshi down. You promised you would visit as much as possible and offered your place for them to stay when they visit you as well. 

One thing you had asked your team and your boss was to not let anyone know you were leaving. You planned on telling everyone on your last day. You have always hated goodbyes. And this one was going to hurt. You met a lot of great people here and you had a lot of adventures and stories you will cherish for the rest of your life, but it was time to move on. 

It had been two weeks since you accepted the offer and today was your last day at this branch. Your team had been moping around for these two weeks and everyone wanted to know why. It has been fun watching them make up lies to cover for you. It was your last team prank in a sense to this branch. In these two weeks, you and Jeonghan hadn’t spoken at all. No texts, no calls, no meeting up. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t ask.

At the end of the day, everyone gathered in the conference room at the request of your boss. No one knew why except you, your team and her. You knew a lot of them would be angry at you. You had gotten pretty close with Jeonghan’s team, particularly with Seungcheol and Joshua and they would probably never forgive you for not saying anything sooner. Especially Seungcheol. 

“Hey everyone. I know it’s the end of the day and everyone wants to go home and relax but bare with me for a few moments” your boss told everyone and everyone went silent.

“I know most of you are wondering why this meeting was booked on your calendars two weeks ago and what this meeting is about. Apologies for the secrecy, but the subject of this meeting asked me and her team to stay quiet about it until today” she continued and looked over at you. At this point, everyone on your team had tears running down their face and you were holding back tears of your own.

“Unbeknownst to most of you, today was the last day working at this branch of one of our best employees and someone I can honestly call a cherished friend. I wish I could say more but I don’t want to start crying like the rest of your team so please, say a few words, Y/N” she said as she looked over at you. You heard a few gasps and confused looks as you got up to say goodbye to all your colleagues.

“Hi everyone. So, a couple of weeks ago I got offered an opportunity at a different branch. An opportunity that will open several different doors for me professionally and I chose to accept it” you said as you looked at your team. You couldn’t look at anyone else.

“I asked my team and my amazing boss to keep this between us because honestly, I hate goodbyes. I didn’t want to spend the two weeks I had left here with sad goodbyes. I know it was selfish of me so I humbly stand here asking for your forgiveness” you continued and your team laughed with you.

“I had an amazing time working at this branch. I’ve grown so much professionally and personally. I made enemies that later became… Not enemies. I thought I hated some of you but I never did. Let’s call it a strong dislike” you said and laughed.

“I’m thankful for each and every one of you, no matter what. To my team and to my boss, you guys know everything already so just want to say thank you again. Now get out of here and enjoy your night. I have a four hour drive to make, so don’t try and persuade me to go for drinks!” you finished your speech and your team got up to hug you. 

Everyone started to say goodbye to you and you found out you were right. Joshua and Seungcheol were angry at you to say the least. Especially Seungcheol. But you made them forgive you before you had to leave. 

You never saw Jeonghan. You didn’t know if he hadn’t been in the meeting at all or if he had left once you were done with your speech. You were disappointed. You wanted to say goodbye at least. He had been a big part of your time here, more in the last few months but I guess he didn’t think the same if he wasn't even going to say a quick goodbye to you.

After your office was packed, you and your team went back to your place to help you load everything into your car for you to leave. You had a few boxes you were going to ship to you or wait for someone to visit to bring them to you but overall, you managed to successfully pack most of your favorite belongings and you were ready to leave.

You were going to miss this apartment. Other than your career, it had been your biggest achievement. You had been able to buy it and make it your own. You weren’t getting rid of it for now. Not unless you needed the money desperately. You were moving into your uncle’s apartment that was vacated recently so you wouldn't be paying rent at your new place and you could afford to keep your beloved apartment.

Hoshi loved that idea, it comforted him knowing you wanted to return to this apartment eventually and hopefully to the branch and your team. 

As you were loading things into your car, you got a text from Jeonghan.

“I’m sorry. You deserve better. I hope one day you can forgive me and we can talk. About everything. I couldn’t say goodbye. Not to you. Drive safe and good luck on this new adventure, angel”

You didn’t know you had started crying until the tears hit the screen of your phone.

You didn’t hate Jeonghan. You never did. He made your life hell for a long time but he also managed to bring heaven to you in the last months you spent together. You didn’t blame him for the way things ended. You never talked about your relationship and whatever was going on between the two of you. You had both failed each other.

Maybe one day you would meet again and you would talk about everything. Maybe even have a happy ending together.

Or maybe you will never meet again and this was just another chapter in your life.

Either way, you were content. You weren’t sad or disappointed anymore.

You didn’t get permanent closure in a lot of things but you were ready for this new adventure and his text made you feel better about the decision you made. 

You did this for you and your career, it was never about him. Your time together had simply ended at the same time this opportunity presented itself and you both knew that.

For now, you were just another girl that had been in his life for a while and that was moving away looking for a better career opportunity. 

And he was just another guy that had been in your life for a while creating chaos in the worst and the best way and that was staying behind.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Hey guys! I hope you guys enjoy this one. It took me a while to finish it but I’m really proud of it 😇💕 I know it’s super long but I realized I might not ever be able to write short fics, specially when it comes to Hannie 😭 The request asked for a cliffhanger ending so I hope I stayed true to that. If you liked this fic and/or if you want a more permanent resolution to this couple, please let me know in the comments and such 💕 Thank you for supporting me! CHEERS 🥂

PS: You can find part 2 here

[queensunshinee]

Wreck my plans || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, fingering), drinking, family drama, very slow burn, maybe too slow, I really don't know what's going on here

Word Count: 8.5k

Wreck my plans

Parties were never your thing. Parties are Jenny's thing. But she went away for the weekend with two friends from Harvard and didn’t even think to invite you. So Jenny can go to hell. And you can go to the party.

Luke Thompson's house is huge, and it doesn’t surprise you since you've spent two evenings a week here over the past few months trying to teach him algebra and literature. He had to repeat senior year after his complete failure last year. The party was in celebration of him finally getting his diploma and being accepted to a local college nearby.

"Little (Y/L/N)!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide, inviting you for a hug. "The only reason I managed to finish school," he added, yelling, making you roll your eyes. "You’re the only reason you managed to finish school, Luke," you said, taking a step back. "To be honest, I didn’t think you’d come," he looked around, causing you to do the same and start recognizing familiar faces from your grade and the one above you (Jenny’s). "I've never seen you at a party before." "I've been to parties. we just don’t hang out with the same people," you said as the two of you moved towards the kitchen so you could grab a drink.

The conversation continued for a few more minutes, but your attention drifted to the blond guy in the kitchen- Art Donaldson. Dressed in a pink button-down shirt and jeans, holding a red cup just like the one Luke put in your hand, drinking the same warm beer you're drinking. You hadn’t thought about him for almost a year. Your gaze wandered from him to the living room, where you saw Dave flirting with someone you couldn’t identify, and you found yourself rolling your eyes at the scene. You tried to listen to Luke for a few more moments because it felt like the polite thing to do, but you lost interest, and, like a magnet, your eyes were drawn back to Art Donaldson, who was busy looking you over from head to toe. You wonder if it made you blush or if it's just the cheap alcohol. You left the kitchen with a certain sense of saturation, looking for people you actually enjoyed being around more than Luke, who, as nice as he was, was too sociable for your taste. Tried too hard. You also try hard, mostly to stay out of everyone’s way.

You ended the evening with Chloe and Ron- ironically, friends of Jenny's, since Lia refused to come. They asked about Jenny and told you about their college experiences. Ron finished his first year at Yale, and Chloe went to a local college not far from here. Maybe it’s time to go home, as you feel like you’re suffocating and the place is closing in on you. The thought of staying close, like Chloe, to this suburb made your stomach turn. Chloe loved it, though. She didn’t see anything wrong with it. She planned her life right here. Just like this.

"Can I sit?" A familiar voice stood above you as you stared at Luke’s pool. A few people were in the far corner of it, but otherwise, the yard was empty. You shrugged without saying anything as Art sat down. He took off his shoes and folded up his jeans a bit, dipping his feet into the pool- something you hadn’t even thought to do. You looked at him for a moment as he took another sip from the drink in his hand. He’s probably the most handsome guy you know- a childish thought that’s crossed your mind since you were young, since you remember him. Blond with eyes that could make stars feel embarrassed with how they shine. There’s nothing ordinary about him. He’s exceptional. You don’t think there’s any girl your age who’s known him and hasn’t had a crush on him, at least for a moment.

"Congratulations on finishing school. I heard you’re the reason Luke can celebrate," he said casually, looking at you and causing you to turn your gaze back to the pool in a split second. "He really needs to stop telling people that," you replied, hearing him chuckle. "How was your first year in college? Stanford, right?" you asked, trying to shift the focus from yourself to him. "Yeah, tennis, you know. It’s nice. I’m supposed to choose a major next semester. My mom wants me to pick business management. I’m considering sports management," he said offhandedly, as if it weren’t too personal. As if this wasn’t the longest conversation you’d had since kindergarten. "Then you have to choose sports, of course," you said quickly. "Sorry, it’s none of my business," you added just as fast, realizing you’d stepped into his complicated relationship with his mom. "If only it were that easy, huh?" he chuckled. "To choose what I want," he added.

At that moment, Art Donaldson had no idea that what he was saying touched the deepest parts of your heart, nearly crushing it. Stroking an open wound without knowing the area was sensitive. Jenny decided at the last moment that she didn’t want to study at Yale and preferred Harvard, which meant financially you couldn’t study out of state. It would just be too much. And it surprised no one that you were the one who had to give up your dream. It surprised no one, because Jenny was the first to decide, and you received the scraps of something that might have been hers. Like wearing an old shirt, she no longer wanted. It’s never the other way around.

"Aren’t you planning to go pro?" you asked after a few seconds, trying to shake off the emotions flooding you. "I’m not sure yet, my mom really wants me to finish my degree," he explained, taking another sip. "Patrick’s really suffering on his tour. don’t tell him I told you that." He added information you hadn’t asked for. As if you were in daily contact with Patrick Zweig. As if you’d ever exchanged a word with him. You only know Jenny slept with him a few times, but it’s not something you two talk about, so whatever. "I’m going to Wesleyan," you said suddenly and looked at him; his gaze was already on you. "Damn," he smiled a half-smile, and maybe it was the first time you’d felt a certain pride since you applied there. "Jenny went to Harvard, so it’s complicated for both of us to study out of state, you know how it is," you felt the need to explain the situation, even though he hadn’t asked, and he certainly didn’t know how it is. "It’s a good school tho, I’m glad I got in," you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, but he furrowed his brows as if he didn’t believe it, as if he had something to say about it. But he kept it to himself, and you appreciated that.

"I have to say, distancing myself from Jenny (Y/L/N) was one of the best things that’s happened to me since I left," everyone knew about Art and Jenny's relationship. They couldn’t stand each other. They competed in every possible subject. From student council to tennis. You don’t think Jenny even likes tennis. She just likes the first place. And without realizing it, you laughed, which a good sister shouldn’t do, but you felt it too. Distancing yourself from Jenny was a relief. The difference is that you’re not allowed to say that out loud, and Art Donaldson doesn’t really care. He doesn’t need to be at family dinners during holidays.

You looked at him for another second and thought this could be a good moment to kiss him. It was as if he hadn’t taken his eyes off you for a second since he sat down. You could lean in a little and press your lips to his. It’s not like you’d see him much again. You wouldn’t see him at all and in six weeks, you will move into the dorms in college. and in few years, maybe after school, he’d probably be a professional tennis player or a lawyer or the president. You think you can picture him as the president. You'd vote for him. "Well, it was nice seeing you, (Y/N)," he smiled another one of his captivating smiles. "Talk to me if you ever find yourself in California," he gave a small nod, grabbed his shoes, and walked away. Maybe one day you’ll manage to actually do something you really want to do. . . . You regretted what you did about three minutes after you politely turned down the full scholarship to Wesleyan. and accepted what they offered you at Stanford. But in your defense, it was late at night, you’d just come back from Luke’s party very tipsy, and you had no real intention of talking to Art when you got to California. You’d never seen your parents so angry. Your mom cried. Your dad said you were inconsiderate. Jenny sat on the couch, watching you with a raised eyebrow. They said they wouldn’t pay for anything, that if you made this decision, you’d have to deal with the consequences. The scholarship covered your tuition, but for housing and books, you’d have to use your savings. Two jobs you picked up over the summer and a part-time job you’d had for three years of babysitting. They didn’t speak to you for weeks. From the moment you told them, all communication between you went through Jenny.

"Tell her dinner’s ready," "Tell her to go down and buy eggs," "Tell her Uncle Barry’s coming over tonight, to act like she still cares about this family."

"They'll come around," Jenny mumbled when she climbed into your bed one of those warm August nights. "I don’t know," you answered with your eyes closed, exhausted from the day at work and the hostility you returned to at home. "I know," she concluded. In the morning, you woke up alone.

You think they’ll never forgive you. Maybe you’ll never forgive them. But you don’t know. . . . The empty bed in your dorm was beneath the window. You didn’t complain for a moment because everything could have been much worse. Jenny bought you the flight ticket to California for your birthday. You cried. You remembered that small moment when Art said he was glad to be away from her and you giggled, not defending your sister. She’s not to blame for being born first. She’s not to blame for needing more attention. Her intentions are good. That should be the only thing that matters.

You only met Billie in the evening when she came back from what she described as a date. She spoke about 50 words a minute, so it was hard to follow. She asked why you came a week late, you wanted to say that you were on time and she came early, but all you managed to get out was "work." It wasn’t a lie. You worked at a camp and an ice cream parlor all summer, trying to save as much as you could because you didn’t know how long it would take to find a job near the university. Turns out, very quickly. The diner across from the university was looking for waiters, and you showed up without experience but with a convincing smile and some recommendations from previous employers, as if anyone cared that you were great with kids. Three shifts a week, and the savings would help you keep your head above water. That’s all you need.

A week after you arrived at the dorms, Billie and Summer, your roommates, forced you to go with them to a party. And it wasn’t too hard to convince you because you weren’t at home. And sometimes, you need to remind yourself that you at home isn’t the same you who’s at Stanford. Here, no one knows you or Jenny. No one expects anything from you, no one will call you "Little (Y/L/N)." Here, you are whoever you choose to be. And that’s enough. Enough to wear almost burgundy lipstick and a tight dress, but still sneakers. After all, something of you stays the same.

Someone named Dean hit on you most of the night, and Billie told him you had a boyfriend. "Babe, anyone but Dean. I’ve been here two weeks, and he’s slept with the entire building already," she whispered in your ear, and you laughed. Someone else hit on you during the night, but you didn’t remember his name. When you lay in bed, you tried calling Jenny to tell her about your night, but she didn’t answer. And maybe that’s okay. . . . The first time you saw Art at Stanford, he was the one who actually saw you. "(Y/n)?" He lifted his sunglasses to his hair. He wore a Stanford T-shirt and pants that made you wonder if they were also Stanford coded. He had a racket bag over his shoulder. He looked confused. "Hey," you didn’t know what to say as you leaned against the only free tree you could find and tried to read one of the books from your syllabus, preparing for your first class. "Hey?" He almost chuckled as he sat down next to you, not taking his eyes off you. Like you’d disappear the second he blinked. He didn’t seem disappointed by your presence. "Shit, I was joking about California," he looked amused, still studying you. He took the book you were reading, like it was his, ran a hand over the cover. Like he knew everything he needed to know about the course just by looking at it. "Stanford was on my list, and it just felt more right," you tried to justify, to explain that it wasn’t because of him. He didn’t think it was because of him tho, not really. "How did they take it?" he asked, probably remembering details from your conversation at the party. "I don’t know, because they’re not talking to me," you said it in the same casual tone, like it didn’t bother you. "Damn," he muttered, "that bad?" he asked. "It’s whatever," you shrugged. "I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll see you around, yeah?" He stood up and walked away. You didn’t know if you’d actually see him around again, but the interaction had been nice. You think that maybe Art Donaldson won’t judge you. And that’s an interesting thought. . . . The next time you see him, you're in the middle of a shift, wearing a ridiculous apron and a ponytail that makes your hair look greasy. Needless to say, you’re embarrassed, but he doesn’t act like it’s a big deal. He says hello, which is surprising because he’s with friends, and you look, well…ridiculous. You say hello back, because you’re polite, and it’s the right thing to do. They sit down at one of the tables, and you hear his voice from a distance saying, “I know her from back home.” You think it’s a half-accurate description, because you don’t really know each other- not like he knows Patrick Zweig or Luke. Not like he knows Jenny. You also think the girl sitting next to him is very pretty. Pretty enough to hate her, but nice enough not to.

Casually, before they leave the diner, Art asks if you're going to a party someone in his dorm is throwing. You shrug in response because you hadn’t heard about it until now. “It’ll be fun, you should come,” he calls out, mentioning the building he lives in before he leaves with his friends. He didn’t have to invite you. He doesn’t have to invite you to places. You’re not his responsibility. You don’t want him to think you are. You don’t know if you’ll go. . . . When you received the email from the registrar notifying you that your account had already been paid and that there was no need for the duplicate payment you’d tried to make, you found yourself confused. When you realized your parents had paid the bill despite saying they wouldn’t, you ended up crying for two hours. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. They haven’t spoken to you in almost three months. They let you stew in guilt but are willing to pay your bills? It’s ridiculous. None of them answered when you tried to call to say thank you. You cried for another hour. 'Busy. Do you need anything?' -Jenny-

You think you need a hug. But that feels childish, so you send her an orange heart emoji. . . . You go to the party Art invited you to with Billie and Summer because, why not? You don’t mention that you got an invitation, just casually say you heard there’s a party and that it might be fun to check it out.

You decide to put on the dark lipstick again, you liked how it looked last time, and honestly, the feedback was great. This time, you stick with a thin shirt, ripped tights, and shorts- keeping it low-effort was part of the actual effort. You think it’s silly. But you look cute, so fuck it.

Art spots you before you notice him again. He comes up to you in the middle of a conversation, gently swiping the beer bottle from your hand, making you look at him as he takes a sip and hands it back. “You’re the hot guy from the posters,” Billie says shamelessly, looking straight at him. “Art,” he chuckles, introducing himself, making you roll your eyes. “Mind if I steal her for a bit?” He asks permission, which is ridiculous and funny, making you feel embarrassed as he hands you back the beer and leads you to another corner of the apartment by your other hand.

“Hey,” he says, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Hey,” you reply with staged nonchalance. “You look good,” you add, because it’s true. The few times you’d seen him on campus, he was in Stanford sports gear. Seeing him again in a button-down and jeans felt like a privilege. “That’s what I’ve heard,” he responds, referencing Billie’s comment from a few minutes ago, taking the beer from you again. Maybe it’s over the top, sharing the same bottle. It’s relatively intimate for two people who don’t actually know each other.

One of his friends comes over and starts talking to Art about tennis, his gaze lingering on you. You wonder if Art realizes he’s standing closer to you in a slightly possessive way. That his hand is lightly brushing yours, that he keeps taking the bottle from you to drink from it, openly displaying that sense of intimacy.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You’re not sure where the courage to ask came from. Maybe it’s the tequila shots you took with Billie and Summer before heading out to the party. Maybe it’s the joint you passed between each other. But Art looks amused as he nods. You catch Summer out of the corner of your eye, giving you a thumbs-up and making exaggerated kissy faces. If Art saw her doing it, he didn’t say anything. The contrast between the noise in the building and the quiet outside surprises you. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but you hoped he’d say something by now. He seemed to be enjoying himself too much to talk. “Want to head to the lake?” he suddenly asked, though you were already walking that way. You hadn’t actually been there yet, but you didn’t want to reveal that you didn’t know the area that well.

“Hey, give me your phone,” you said, stopping in your tracks. He stopped too, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “So bossy,” he muttered with his signature smirk, but you entered your number and sent yourself a flower emoji so you could save his number later. When you reached the lake, it almost took your breath away. It looked like something out of a movie. You know it sounds like a cliché, but it really was like that- like an old movie, but not too old. The moon reflected off the lake, and a few people were sitting on the grass nearby. You sat on a table instead of the bench next to it. Art raised an eyebrow at the choice but shook his head like you’d done something funny.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, looking at you as if confessing a secret. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” You knew that’s not what he wanted to hear, but he laughed anyway. He sat on the bench below you, between your legs. You felt as if you had some kind of power. Your hand automatically moved through his curls. You thought about apologizing but decided not to. “How are you?” he asked. “I’m okay, I think. How are you?” you tossed the question back at him. “Seriously, how are you?” His fingers brushed over yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “With your parents and everything?” he added. “I’m fine,” you replied. You didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t push as much as you expected. His hand squeezed yours for a moment, as if he had more to say. Instead, he nodded and stood up, starting to walk with you just behind him.

You're walking alongside the lake, wondering if this path has an end, or if you even want it to. You think you might feel those butterflies in your stomach. "Do you know my first memory of you?" he asks suddenly, and you’re surprised. Part of you doesn’t want to know. It’s probably related to Jenny. Art has so many memories of Jenny, and they’re all negative. Deep down, you hope he doesn't remember you as this girl being attached at her hip. "The day after my dad's funeral, you gave me a daisy you picked from someone’s garden." He chuckles, but it sounds bitter. You don’t remember this. You do remember, though, that for years, until you both drifted and each found your own group of friends—he called you "Daisy." You never knew why. "Oh." You don’t know what to say, so that’s what comes out a bit pathetic. "I didn’t even know it was a daisy, if the story details matter," you try to lighten things up. "I asked my grandmother," he says, and the two of you chuckle. "That’s why you called me Daisy for three years straight?" you ask. "God. Why do you remember that?" He puts a hand over his face, as if he’s embarrassed or something. "I thought maybe you didn’t know my name, and since I was Jenny’s sister, you just rolled with it." You laugh. "It suited you, Daisy," he says, and his hand moves your hair behind your ear. This isn’t the first time he’s done that, but this time he also looks at your lips. You feel like he’s looking at your soul if that's even possible.

"I really wanted to kiss you at Luke's party," you admit, because it feels like the right moment. "Oh yeah? So why didn’t you kiss me?" he asks, wetting his lower lip with his tongue. "I’ve wanted to do it since eighth grade, and then I had the chance and didn't know what to do" You look at him. His smile is still plastered across his face, and you wish he wasn’t so smug all the time. "Maybe I wanted you to kiss me at Luke's party," he says, almost ignoring what you just said. "Little Daisy, sitting by the pool alone. Maybe I approached you with intent? Maybe I was goi-" You don’t give him the satisfaction of finishing his sentence, as you crash your lips onto his like you’re possessed. His smile lingers for a few moments. His hands pull you closer to him as he presses you back against a light pole you didn’t know was behind you.

Art Donaldson is a good kisser. No one can take that from him. He’s an amazing kisser. His tongue is way too skilled. His hands have found their way under your shirt as if that’s their natural place. His lips move perfectly in sync with yours, and when you both pause to catch your breath, he presses his forehead against yours. He places small kisses on your cheek, then on your neck, and only when you lean your head back and bump into the pole do you remember that you’re in a public space. People could see you. This is not your style. "Okay, we’re good," you tap his chest lightly, making him laugh the most delightful laugh you’ve ever heard. "Is this everything you dreamed of before starting high school?" he asks, planting another small kiss on your cheek, as if he just can’t help himself or something. "I didn’t dream about kisses like this, Donaldson." You roll your eyes, thinking it’s pretty ridiculous that you’re smiling right now.

When you reach your dorm, you wonder if you should invite him in. You think he’d say yes. But you also think there’s something beautiful about leaving the night as it is- two people who used to know each other, kissing by a lake. He gives you a small kiss and takes out his phone as he turns to leave, while you head inside, unable to resist leaning against the door.

'Since eighth grade, huh?' -Unknown Number-

'Shut up.' -(Y/N)-

He replies with a flower emoji. You think the intention is daisy. Maybe you’re overthinking it. . . . You don’t expect Art to text you the next morning. You had that night together; it was great, and maybe it was exactly what you needed to get him out of your system. Maybe it was what you needed to finally move on from that endless crush on Art Donaldson. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed when he didn’t reach out at all, as if he’d disappeared from the face of the earth. But that’s probably fine. He doesn’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe him. You each have your own lives at Stanford. You’re trying to juggle work and studies. You’re supposed to submit a thirty-page paper after Thanksgiving, and you’ve only written three. Clearly, you have enough to keep you busy.

Your mom called a few days ago, and you cried. Because you hadn’t really talked in almost four months. She said Jenny convinced her. It’s kind of messed up, but you don’t say that. You’re just glad someone convinced her. You’ve been thinking a lot lately about how strange it is- how you never behaved outside of what was expected of you, and the one time you did, they reacted as if you’d committed a crime. You think about it even when you’re trying not to think about it. Your mom asked if you’re coming home for Thanksgiving. You said no. You wonder if it made her sad only after you hung up. . . . The next time you see Art, he’s flirting with a redhead at a Thanksgiving party Summer convinced you to attend. Honestly, you could’ve skipped this party, but Summer said she wanted the girl who invited her there. So you bit your tongue and told her you’d meet her there, because that’s what friends do.

It’s easy to tell when Art is flirting; it’s basically exaggerated hand gestures and a level of closeness he’s never tried with you. You’ve seen him in action before. You try not to stare, because it doesn’t really matter. Instead, you look for Summer, who’s on the opposite side of the room, directly in Art’s line of sight. It makes you smile, knowing he’ll see that you’re here. You’ve decided you’re going to ignore him. You made that decision when you passed by him on your way to Summer, feeling his eyes on you but not meeting his gaze.

When Summer slips away to sit with Caitlin -the girl she’s interested in- a guy you don’t recognize approaches you. He introduces himself and offers you a drink. You politely decline, you’re smarter than to accept punch from a complete stranger. He’s nice, but standing a little too close for your comfort. He leans over you, and you feel a bit trapped between him and the wall you’re leaning against. You could walk away, of course, but the whole situation feels uncomfortable. You wonder where Summer is, unable to see her in the crowd.

"Don’t you think you’re a bit too close?" Art’s voice is firm and unyielding as he positions himself next to you, raising an eyebrow at the guy. "Sorry, man, thought she was single," he says, disappearing like he was never there. Neither of you bother to correct him about the two of you not actually being together. You roll your eyes at Art and head toward the kitchen, feeling his steps following behind. You spot Summer with Caitlin on one of the couches, and she gives you a nod, signaling that she’s fine and that you’re free to leave if you want. "Hey, you didn’t go home," he says behind you, as if everything is normal. "Quite the observation, Donaldson," you say, knowing you’re being mean. But, fuck it, he deserves it. You grab a beer from the kitchen and head outside, with him trailing beside you. "You’re mad at me because I didn’t text you," he sighs, prompting you to stop and raise an eyebrow at him. "You really think you’re something special, huh?" Maybe a bit too harsh, but it’s all you’ve got right now. "I don’t think I’m anything special. I just didn’t know what to say." He sighs again as you start walking away from the building. "It was a good night. I didn’t want to ruin it, you know?" You think he sounds almost shy. His voice is softer than usual, and you remind yourself that you also labeled that night as a good one, as a nice experience you didn’t want to spoil. So maybe it’s unfair to be angry- after all, you could have reached out to him, too. But what would you have even said? The three weeks since then passed quickly, and most of the time, you didn’t think about him at all. So it’s fine. Everything’s really fine.

"It’s ok, Donaldson, I wasn’t sitting by the phone waiting for a message from you. You can let it go," you sum up, trying to sound amused and light-hearted, though it comes out a bit too bitter for your liking. "So why didn’t you go home?" he asks, changing the subject. "I’m working." You shrug. He raises an eyebrow, like someone who knows that’s not the whole truth but also understands he’s treading on thin ice right now and shouldn’t push for more. "Why didn’t you go?" you throw the question back at him, trying to show him that it’s all good. "I’ve got a match tomorrow, plus my mom doesn’t really care," he replies, and you nod, understanding a bit of what he means. You knew his mom- she always struck you as the coldest person in the world. "What are you doing at a party if you have a match tomorrow?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, wondering if it’s too harsh, because you’re trying to steer the conversation onto calmer ground. "It’s in the afternoon," he shrugs. "You don’t have to walk with me, my dorms are really close," you say after a few moments of silence. "We’re good? We're friends and you’re not mad at me anymore, right, Daisy?" he asks, nudging his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes at the silly nickname, but you don’t find it in yourself to correct him.

"We’re good," you conclude, walking into your building, leaving him behind. . . . The next day, you decide to go to his game after your shift, only to find out that Patrick fucking Zweig is also sitting in the small crowd. Most of the students eager to see Stanford’s star in action probably love their families more and decided to go home. You sat far from Patrick, but it didn’t stop him from giving you a puzzled look as he whispered something to the girl sitting next to him, who was fully focused on Art's game. You remembered her from the diner the other day. She’s beautiful.

Art won to the applause of the crowd that stayed to watch until the end. Two hours of the ball going back and forth and sounds that were almost erotic. Whatever. You consider heading back to your dorm without saying anything just to avoid talking to Patrick. But Art smiles at you and gives a small wave, so you know there's no way to get out of at least saying hello. You need to suck it up. “Congratulations, Donaldson,” you mumble, and he gives you the smuggest smile he can find. “Little (Y/L/N), long time,” Patrick says to you with half-loudness. He doesn’t say anything bad, but you shrink a little. Trying to remember the last time someone called you that. Probably at Luke's party. Art looks at you with an apologetic look as if he knows. He probably doesn’t know. But that's okay. “How’s the tour?” you ask politely because it’s the right thing to do. “Good, good,” he says, shifting his gaze from you to Art and back to you. Like a man with a plan. “Want to have dinner with us?” he asks. In any other situation, you’d laugh, because the odds of you sitting at the same table with Patrick Zweig would be slim, especially considering his history with Jenny. “I wish, but I have a paper due in a few days, and I really have to work on it. Maybe next time,” you smile the most genuine smile you can find and quickly move away.

“Dude, you didn’t tell me Little (Y/L/N) was here,” you hear Patrick laugh. “Shut up, Patrick,” you’re almost sure you heard Art reply.

'You wish?' -Art Donaldson- He sent it half an hour later when you were already sitting at your computer with a cup of coffee in hand.

You turned off your phone. You need to focus. . . . Art came to your work far more often than you expected. He probably tried every dish on the menu, including the pancakes with the “secret” sauce that you suspect is just chocolate mixed with overly sticky jam. He sometimes studied there or came with his friends. He talked to you but not too much, and you texted each other from time to time. Were you friends? It felt strange to think that Art Donaldson and you were friends- not because he wasn’t someone you’d want to call a friend, but because you’d finally let go of the idea of him as someone out of reach.

One day, when he walked you home, he asked why you took on a fourth shift, since you usually didn’t work Mondays. “Are you keeping tabs on me, Donaldson?” you asked with a half-smile. “Daisy,” he sighed, as if you were being ridiculous, even though he was the one who knew your schedule and which days you didn’t usually work. “I’m saving up for a ticket home for the holidays, so,” you shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “You haven’t bought a ticket yet?” he asked, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “I’m buying it myself, so it’s taking me a minute.” Your parents had made it very clear they were only paying for your dorm. You bought your own books, and you had to cover your own flights. You didn’t look at him when you said it, afraid he might judge you- even if it was silly.

He stopped and looked at you. “That’s fucked up, (Y/N).” Whenever Art said your name like that recently, you knew he was serious, and that the conversation was drifting somewhere too deep. Like the time you talked about his grandmother, or his dad. “It is what it is,” you replied, continuing to walk, hoping he would keep walking too. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that they bought Jenny her train ticket. You didn’t want to dwell on the thought that even if it was cheaper, no one made her feel guilty for the only choice she’d ever made in her life. “I could get you a ticket,” he said, and this time, you stopped. “What the fuck?” you asked, your voice going up an octave. “I don’t need you to–” “For the miles. You can pay me back later,” he shrugged like it was no big deal. “I don’t need you to buy me a ticket. I don’t need your money, Art, let it go.” Your voice shook a little; you wondered if he heard it. “It’s not out of pity,” he said, voicing what you didn’t say. But you kept walking as if you hadn’t heard him.

“I wonder if we’ll find a spot in the library tomorrow,” you changed the subject to the first thing that popped into your head. Art didn’t say anything, but you knew it was the last thing he cared about at that moment. . . . A week before your flight, Billie cut your bangs. It’s not a cry for help, you told everyone who gave you a weird look. It’s cute. It’s fucking cute, ok? Art watched you from across the room at Patrick's party. You wondered if he'd say hello or if you'd both act like, at best, casual acquaintances- or, at worst, like you were just Jenny's little sister. You missed Lia and a few others who were fun to drink with and gossip with. You found out that Michelle was pregnant, which was a fucking scandal.

“Hey, stranger.” Art said when you walked into the kitchen. His eyes were redder than usual, and his smile was mischievous but tired. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, making Lia glance between the two of you. “Did you see she cut her bangs?” she asked, taking a sip from a drink you couldn’t quite identify. “It’s not a cry for help.” “It’s not a cry for help,” you both said together, but Art used a screechy voice, like he was imitating you, making Lia laugh. “She’s been yelling that at people all week,” he said to her, as if you weren’t standing right there. You considered grabbing a glass of wine and leaving them to talk alone. “Dave’s here,” Lia said suddenly, and you saw Art tense, his smile fading as if he sobered up instantly. If it weren’t for his telltale red eyes, there’d be no trace of it.

You and Dave had been together most of your last year in high school. He was the first guy you slept with, which was fine. It was just that everything felt a bit weirder whenever he was around since you broke up. It felt like you’d gone from friends to lovers to people scared of catching some incurable disease from each other if you'd even look at one another. “It’s totally fine,” you rolled your eyes, because, well, it really was fine. You hadn’t felt anything for Dave for almost a year. You regretted not knowing how he was doing or how he was handling college, but that’s life- you win some, you lose some.

“Little (Y/L/N),” Patrick Zweig’s voice grated in your ear. “Where’s (Y/L/N)?” he added quickly, probably drunker than usual, though you weren’t surprised. “Patrick,” Art muttered toward him, almost whining, like a man shocked by his best friend’s crudeness. “She’s at home, wasn’t feeling well.” You wondered if that was a convincing excuse for Jenny skipping Patrick’s party. But it was the excuse she left with you, and that’s what you’d stick to. “Well, at least we’ve got one family representative. What can you tell us about Art in California?” he asked, and you wondered why he was so desperate to put you in the spotlight. “Patrick, leave her alone,” Art’s tone was defensive, giving the guy next to him no option to dig any further. Patrick just flashed a mischievous grin and raised his hands in feigned surrender. “I like the bangs, you wear a mental breakdown well,” he chuckled and left the kitchen as chaotically as he’d entered, yelling something to Luke about beer pong. “Sorry, he’s an asshole,” Art said, sighing. You wondered when Lia had disappeared from your view. “He’s… Patrick,” you rolled your eyes. And it was true, you knew he didn’t act this way out of malice, he was just like that. “Want to get out of here?” Art asked. “Don’t you want to spend some time with your friends?” you returned the question. “I could use some air. Besides, who’s my friend here?” he shrugged. And as you both headed outside, you thought that was the saddest thing Art Donaldson had ever said to you.

"How does it feel to be home?" he asked. You want to say it’s ok, that it’s exactly what you dreamed, but it’s more like what you expected it would be. Your parents aren’t mad at you anymore, but they don’t approve of your decision either, and they remind you at every opportunity that they think you made a mistake. “It’s fine.” You shrugged. “I hate it when you say that,” he had this bitter laugh. “What?” You stopped for a moment and looked at him. “Every time you say something’s ‘fine,’ I know it’s not, and I have no idea how to get you to tell me.” He sighed, sitting down on a bench that hadn’t gotten wet from the rain that fell earlier in the afternoon.

“I’m not lying to you,” you tried to defend yourself, searching through your mind for other times you’d said something was ‘fine.’ You think he’s exaggerating. “I don’t think you’re lying. I think you don’t want to say things out loud,” he said. You think that if he weren’t a little drunk, he wouldn’t have brought up this conversation. “It’s weird, being home,” you said after a few seconds. He looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to say more. “I hate it when people call me ‘Little (Y/L/N).’ It feels like I don’t exist without Jenny,” you said, sharing something you hadn’t even told Lia. “I know,” Art said. “That’s why I get mad at Patrick when he calls you that.” He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. “How did you know?” you asked, surprised by the nonchalance with which he said it. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he asked with a half-smile, “I just know you, Daisy.” And if you didn’t know he was drunk and tired, you’d think there was sadness in his eyes. . . . A few days later, you saw Patrick at the grocery store, which was strange in itself because you were pretty sure Patrick Zweig had assistants to go grocery shopping for him. “Little (Y/L/N),” he said, and you’re fairly sure the smile on his face was genuine; he was actually glad to run into you. “Happy Christmas,” he said, stopping in front of you, holding a carton of orange juice and what looked like a frozen pizza. “I’m Jewish,” you rolled your eyes, only making him smile more. He knew that- he could deny it all he wanted, but Patrick knew Jenny very well, and you and Jenny shared genes. You both paid quietly for your items at the checkout, and as you stepped outside, he lit a cigarette, looking at you with an expression that seemed to expect you to stop and stand with him.

“I’m really glad you’re there with him at Stanford, you know?” he said after a few puffs of smoke. “Yeah? Why?” You tried to avoid smiling at him. You didn’t think he deserved a smile; he’s a jerk. “Because he’s better when you’re around,” he said softly, with a kind of depth you hadn’t seen in him before- something that made you think you understood what Jenny saw in him, how he managed to break her heart. “At tennis?” you asked. Because that’s all Patrick cared about- tennis, girls, and maybe Art. “At everything.” He shrugged, all the depth disappearing as he began to walk away. “Happy Hanukkah, Little (Y/L/N). Say hi to your sister for me.” You could see a wink. Patrick Zweig is defiantly an asshole. . . . You and Art went together to the New Year’s party at Stanford. Billie and Summer haven’t returned yet, and you’re almost certain Art moved his flight to catch the same one as yours, but you didn’t ask him about it because you think it would make you seem too smug. And you’re not. You really aren’t. You just think that if anything had changed from the last time he asked if you two were friends, he would have told you. But he hasn’t, so…whatever.

He sat on your bed today while you did your makeup, never taking his eyes off you through the mirror. Someone watching might think you’d hypnotized him. You don’t think you saw him blink once in the fifteen minutes he stared at you. “You like what you see?” you asked with a half-smile, still looking at his reflection. “What if I do?” he shrugged, as if this ridiculous flirtation was the truest thing he’d said in ages.

You decide not to linger too hard on his hand holding yours all the way to the party. Or on the fact that he kept you close to him while talking to people you didn’t know. On the effort he put into participating in a conversation with a friend you met in one of your courses. You try not to blush when he leans in and asks if you’re planning to kiss him at midnight. He's being bold. You think he’s acting like a brat. It should bother you. It doesn’t bother you.

You kiss him at midnight. Or maybe he kisses you. You’re not exactly sure, because you’re both so wrapped up in your own bubble, ignoring the drunken students around you. Your foreheads touch, and in an instant, your lips are on his, or his are on yours. It doesn’t matter. The result is the same. Beer and gum, and something else you can’t quite identify, maybe desperation. You like the mix. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you could get used to it. “It’s not silly, right?” you ask quietly while you both catch your breath. “It’s anything but silly, Daisy,” he says with certainty. And you don’t think you’ve ever heard Art Donaldson sound so resolute.

He kisses you all over when you get to your room. You thank the holiday gods for keeping your roommates away. Your red dress finds itself on the floor much faster than you expected. He’s too good at this. You’d feel much less confident if he didn’t look at you like you held the sun in your left hand and the moon in your right. You find yourself sitting on top of him in your bra and underwear, his hands on your hips steadying you. You’ve never felt sexier than you do right now. A little voice in your head screams at you to engrave this feeling. But you silence it; it’s insecure and reminds you of Jenny, the last person you want to think about when you’re at second base with Art Donaldson.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips trail down your neck to your chest, unclasping your bra with one hand like a pro. “Shut up,” you manage to say, and he chuckles into you, as if he’s trying to bury himself within you. It's hot, stupidly hot. In a few minutes, he half-gently tosses you onto the bed, stripping down with a speed you didn’t think possible. He leans over you in boxers, and you close your eyes for a moment, knowing you have to remember this. Because he really is a work of Art. You’ve never known anyone whose name suited them more.

His lips were everywhere on your body at once, if that’s even possible, and his fingers slid in and out of you before you even realized you’d lost your underwear or when you’d started making that sound from your throat. Everything embarrassed you but also felt natural. You’ve never experienced such a range of emotions with anyone else, and the second that thought crossed your mind, you found yourself on the edge, and Art was above you, pressing soft kisses to your stomach, whispering soothing words while you caught your breath.

He entered you, and you felt like he was enveloping you from every angle, your moans blending together. You think a tear slipped down your cheek. You’re almost sure Art kissed you right where it fell. He was both gentle and rough at the same time. You don’t think that makes sense, but a lot of things tonight don’t make sense. You almost laugh at that thought but decide against it. Instead, you look at him, only to find his eyes already on yours, and he’s so beautiful, with his blond curls and that smile stretched across his face. “Fuck, Art,” you manage to mumble as you feel another orgasm building within you, you didn’t know you were capable of more than one. To be honest, even one was rare until recently. “I know, Daisy, I know,” he says in a half-strangled voice before his lips are back on yours, his hand wrapping around yours, and you think it’s incredibly intimate. You’ve never had sex like this before. You don’t think there’s any trace of your old crush left. You think it might be love. After he cleans you up with a towel he soaked with warm water, he lies beside you, and the small bed forces you to stay close. Maybe it’s Art who refuses to let go. You’re not sure why, but your legs are tangled together and your head is resting on his chest. “Are you going to break my heart again?” he asks, and you don’t know what he means because you’ve never broken anyone’s heart, least of all Art Donaldson’s. But he’s so certain in his question, he doesn’t take it back. He doesn’t correct himself. “When did I ever break your heart?” you asked. “When didn’t you?” he replies with a half-laugh. “You gave me a flower when I was eight and then didn’t talk to me for ten years,” he says quietly, like he’s sharing a secret you already knew but never understood.

It’s definitely love. You think you’re okay with that.

Hey? I don't even know what's going on but i'd like you to tell me what you think about that? that's it. Talk to me I guess.............

[ryiju-muunie]

Right now I'm Shameless

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Suguru Geto Warnings: plus-size!reader, reader is into cute pink frilly outfits, Geto is VERY into the readers body, emo!geto, opposites attract, oral sex, Geto is canonically hung, pussy eating with a tongue piercing, creaming, fingering, blow job, degradation/praise kink, overstimulation, crying, a little dub-con Word count: 3047 DESC: You've always wondered how many piercings your best friend has

Reupload!

“How many do you have?” 

You blinked a few times at your friend, who was lazily scrolling on his phone in front of you. You and Suguru had met in your first-year economics class and stayed friends up through college. Now as seniors, your friendship felt almost second nature. Suguru was different from you, in the sense of dressing. He wore dark clothes, had dark hair, and so many piercings. You always wore pink frilly outfits, so you contrasted perfectly. Like two sides of the color spectrum.

You never tried to stare at the dragon tattoo snaking up his muscular arm or the way his labret piercing stuck out with a sharp point on the bottom of his lip. You had tried counting before, but new tattoos and piercings seemed to show up every week. There were the gauges, eyebrow, labret, septum… but you knew there was more. Maybe in his ear? You didn’t want to consider yourself a creep, staring at him so intensely, so you opted to avoid eye contact with the handsome man as best as you could.

You wouldn’t say you had a crush on him, but you wouldn’t not say that. You were very much down for anything he wanted to do if he ever offered. But the thing was, he never offered.

Suguru lifted his head, purple eyes scanning your face. He raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment, trying to mentally count before he gave up and started feeling around his face. You noticed his hand then trail down to his stomach, before ghosting at his belt. His fingers delicately traced the silver and black surrounding his waist, holding up his black skinny jeans.

He… no way. Your eyes widened at the thought. A dick piercing? There’s no way he’d have one. And there’s no way you’d go this long without seeing it. Well no- you didn’t want to see it- well. You shook your head at those thoughts. He was just a friend, and you did not want to see his dick. He was just a friend, and you did not picture him naked sometimes. 

It didn’t help Suguru had a reputation for being incredibly … large. Girls and guys talked about it like it was a godsend just to be fucked from behind by his cock. Not going to lie, you’ve thought about it before. Just a small fantasy, and wondering what it would be like. You saw how he’d eye you in those short pink skirts or those low-cut kawaii tops, you know the ones you’d find on Pinterest. Your body was far from flat, being curvy and fat-filled in all the right places. Even if they weren’t the right places for others, they were to you. You loved your big form and you could tell that Suguru enjoyed the view too.

“Seven,” he looked back at you and adjusted his position, sitting up. You two were just in your dorm, sitting on either side of your bed. God the whole thing was pink, you felt so proud. He stuck out like a sore thumb.

You thought for a moment. Gauges, eyebrow, septum, lip… that was only four. So there were three you couldn’t see. Your mind and eyes instantly wandered down his body, stopping at his stomach, “Belly button?” You didn’t dare to look down to see the tent being pitched in his jeans, the tent you knew was growing as you continued to speak.

“And tongue,” he spoke softly, brushing some hair from his face. He pushed it behind his ear but it continued to fall into his eyes, “The other one you’re going to have to guess.” A seductive look crossed his face, trailing up to his eyes. He blinked a few times, barely closing his eyes to let his eyelashes ghost against his bottom eyelid. Fucking majestic honestly. 

“Guess? C’mon just tell me,” you frowned, motioning to his perfect body, “Is it a dermal somewhere?” 

“No. Think dirtier,” he then paused, “Think lower,” he suddenly purred. Suguru knew exactly what he was doing. You couldn’t deny you were attracted to him (I mean you do have sexual fantasies about him). And you couldn’t deny how it made you soak your underwear when he spoke to you in that low tone. You could just imagine him groaning sweet nothings into your ear with that perfect tone, with each thrust becoming sloppier as he attempted to reach his high. You could practically feel him bite down on your neck as he fucked you, pumping you with his seed.

“Lower?” You bit down on your bottom lip and adjusted your position to sit up as well, “Um… I don’t wanna seem weird.” 

“Nonsense, you won’t be weird. Did you go too perverted?” He smirked and set his phone on the bed, motioning down to his legs, to the pulsating hard-on in his skinny jeans, “I can show you if you’re too embarrassed to say it.” 

You slowly closed your eyes and released your bottom lip from the hold on your teeth, “Are you sure?” What was in the water today? Was it obvious he was turning you on? Was it obvious you wanted to give in and close the space, even if it was a mistake? I mean he was hard for Christ's sake! How much more obvious could you both get? Every inch of his body was on fire as if it was statically charged, just aching to touch your perfect curves. Suguru was hot, you couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t deny his attraction to you. You couldn't deny your attraction to him any longer. And it was obvious to him, huh? It must’ve been obvious to everyone. You slowly opened your eyes and stared at him. He was serious. God you just wanted him to show you how big he truly was. And god you just wanted him to fuck you like the needy little whore you were. 

“Always baby,” he grinned and stood up, beginning to undo his belt. You found yourself staring at his quivering dick through his pants. He was hung. You could see it from how his dick sat in his pants, becoming more erect as he just teased you there. His hands are seated atop his hips, with his cat-like eyes staring you down. Purple pupils dilated in your direction. Suguru then grabbed your chin and forced you to stare back into his own eyes, widening them as he continued, “I’m down if you’re down to see my piercing.” 

Your eyes fluttered a bit with your bottom lip jutting out into a pink glossy pout. You needed to think about this for a moment. If he was offering, you’d like to take a ride on that stallion. Besides, you couldn’t say no to that stare even if you tried. If he truly wanted to fuck you and he knew you wanted to fuck him, why not? You only live once. And you knew this would just be a one-time thing, just sex. God you just needed him to fuck you. 

“Can I see your dick now? I’m down,” you spoke softly, opening your eyes fully to stare at the grin atop his face. Fuck it, you thought. 

Your best friend nodded and let go of your face, bringing his hands to fondle his belt. He slid it off and then started to shimmy out of his skinny jeans. He looked stunning in just a pair of loose boxers that hugged his muscled curves. He thumbed the waistline of his underwear and let his eyes flick back to you, “Do me a favor princess, and kneel in front of me. I want to see how you look against my cock,” he cooed, watching as your plump form fell to the floor on his knees in front of him.

How could you say no to that beautiful voice as it rang through your ears? You couldn’t! You nodded hungrily as he smiled down at you. You looked pathetic. You felt pathetic. But you didn’t care. Just to taste that length around your mouth would be worth it. To swallow his cum would make you feel whole. Something inside of you needed him suddenly, and so badly.

Suguru slowly brought his underwear down, revealing his massive cock. He was huge. You could see it from the way it lazily sprung from his body and how it glistened in your room lighting. You wanted to touch it so badly, to run your fingers over his Prince Albert piercing until he was shaking for more. It was just a loop through the side of his tip, through the urethra, and out one side. You reached out and grazed your fingers up to his tip, lightly tugging at his piercing. He bit his lip and watched you, hands waiting idly on either side of his body. 

“Hold on,” he said softly, lifting one of his hands to sweep some of your hair up from under your scalp, “Do I have permission to use you as my fuck toy?” He pulled your hair into a ponytail, although you had to say it was the worst one you’ve ever seen. You looked up at him and went to speak but the tip of his cock lightly tapped at your bottom lip. You couldn’t even hide the moan that escaped your lips, and he took that as a yes. 

You opened your mouth and he forced his way inside you. You gagged at the feeling of his tip and his piercing kissing your mouth. It was already too much to be stuffed this badly but he didn’t seem to care. Both of your hands anchored to his hips, letting your nails dig in as he grabbed your ponytail. With one fluid motion, he brought your lips closer to the middle of his shaft, before pulling you back to his tip, then back again. It was consistent how utterly fast he was going. You gagged again as you felt his piercing trail up and down the side of your mouth, clashing against your teeth. 

“F..fuck you’re a whore for this, huh? You t-take this without any hesitation, huh?” Suguru breathed out, throwing his head back in a blissful state of condescension. You looked up at him and tried to pull your head back to speak, but he slammed you back against his cock. You whimpered at the sensation, feeling a pleasurable throb grow in your legs. Fuck you just needed some sort of release to make this all worth it.

One of your hands on his hip moved down in between your pants, rubbing against your clothed cunt. Anything for a bit of friction and stimulation. You just needed to feel him pound you, or better yet eat you out with that tongue piercing of his. You rubbed with two fingers in quick circles, feeling a small wave of pleasure build through your clit. You moaned and gagged at the same time, feeling the nauseous twinge run up the back of your throat. It hurt so good. God…

You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t even breathe from how much he fucked you. It was as if you were Suguru Geto’s personal fleshlight for him to use until he was completely milked dry. And it turned you on so much. To be used as an object. You wanted him to use you until you were shaking and crying for it to stop. Hey- you were halfway there already. Tears formed at the base of your eyes and threatened to come out with each thrust until they finally started pouring from your cheeks. 

“Aw… mm-f .. fuck. Is this too much for you p.. Mm, princess?” Suguru spat, raking one hand through your hair and yanking on the ponytail. He pulled you from his cock, a line of slobber hanging from your bottom lip. He stared at you with pure lust, just aching to defile every inch of your perfect body, “Look at me, whore,” he commanded. You did as he said, eagerly staring up at him for something else to do. God what a sub! 

You blinked a few times before he pulled you up. You whined at the painful sensation of being pulled by your hair, as he pressed a slobbery kiss against your open mouth. He tasted like cigarettes and it made your legs weak. You managed to find your footing and stand, letting him press himself against you. Suguru ate at your mouth as if you were his last meal, hoping and praying it would never end. He needed your taste against his tongue as if it was the last thing on Earth. 

“Pathetic slut,” he murmured, biting down on your lip. You gasped and then felt him force his tongue into your mouth. You couldn’t feel the piercing against your tongue, but you could feel him move his tongue perfectly against yours. Saliva mixing made you throb uncontrollably. As you kissed, you felt him walk forward, inching towards your bed. You had a feeling where this was going. The railing right?

He pushed you back against your bed, your knees bending on the edges. Your best friend pulled your shorts down, not even caring to remove them from your ankles. You looked down with a dazed expression and murmured something about him fucking you, to which Suguru laughed and mused, “Let me please you first.” You didn’t need to be told twice, as you let your back hit the back of the bed with a light thump. 

You felt him slide down your lace panties with gentle care before two fingers spread your folds apart and a tongue licked your slit. You felt a metal pebble lightly rub up and down your clit as he licked, before moving to suck and slurp as if he was a starving man. A faint moan escaped your lips as your hips moved with a mind of their own, grinding against his face as his tongue moved circles around your swollen clit. Typically this motion wouldn’t get you so hot and bothered, but something about Suguru made it incredibly arousing. He was just … perfect. Maybe this shouldn’t be a one-time thing. 

Suguru pulled away for a moment and removed a ring or two from his pointer and middle finger, before dipping them into your pussy. You bit your lip and watched slowly as he sunk two fingers in. He curved his hand and bent his knuckles, beginning to pump in and out of you with a devious grin. You wanted to ask why he was admiring you with those eyes but as he grazed your G-spot, suddenly all words died on your tongue. You let out a guttural moan and lifted your hips to the sensation, trying to catch more of this intense pleasure he was giving you. 

“That’s it. Cream on my fingers, you filthy cunt. Aw does someone like it when I call her a cunt? You’re desperate. I could tell-” he spat as he thrust two digits inside you, “-you wanted me but you were too shy. And now you’re aching to cum… It’s almost cute,” a condescending laugh fell out of his mouth and he leaned forward, licking a pitiful stripe against your clit, “I could let you cum…”

“Please…” You whined, throwing your head back as the pleasure got too much. It was too much and not enough to be fucked by his fingers. You needed all of him at that moment, even if it wasn’t possible, “Please Suguru…” You breathed out shakily, turning your head to stare at him with an unfocused look. 

“Since you asked nicely,” Geto smiled and pressed his lips against your pussy, thrusting all the while. He ate you out and pushed another finger inside, just to see if you could handle it. You could; bucking your hips in response to the added stimulation. You could feel the exact spot it was rubbing and you could feel your body beginning to contort as the pleasure was building. You sat up and ground against his face, stretching out both arms to grab onto something. Nothing but sheets were in your vicinity and all you could do was helplessly grab them and beg to cum. It was mindless at this point, as he sucked your clit, to beg for completion. 

Something he must’ve done ended up pushing you over the edge. Whether it was his tongue fucking you or his fingers, something made you cum around them and clench. You clenched so hard you could feel his struggle to thrust them in and out, forcing him to instead internally rub against your G-spot. You gasped and lifted your hips again as you rode your high, biting down on your bottom lip and grabbing the sheets as if your life depended on it. You had never cum to the point of almost blacking out, but now that you have you never wanted to go back. The feeling of pleasure so intense wiping over you it made you dizzy, made another twinge of arousal poke at your clit. 

But you realized the pleasure had stopped. Suguru pulled his fingers out and pressed a light kiss against your cunt, standing up and then sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked down at you with fondness, taking in your half-exposed body. He murmured something you didn’t hear before clearing his throat, “You’re gorgeous.” 

You smiled and reached your hand out, grazing against his arm, “Round …two?”

He laughed and looked away, “I don’t think you can keep your eyes open. I won’t fuck you until you can’t walk …yet. I want to warm you up first.”

“This is a regular thing?” You raised an eyebrow, sleepily attempting to sit up but letting yourself slide back against the bed, “You haven’t cum though…”

Suguru shook his head and grabbed your chin delicately, contrasting with how he had manhandled you just minutes prior. He pressed a soft kiss against your temple and released you, letting you fall against the bed once more. 

“Get some rest and I’ll rail you in an hour, okay?” He smiled, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the side. Who were you to say no to such a face?

[leclercstars]

advantage, zweig.

college!art donaldson x college!patrick zweig x reader based on this request

Summary: You've been into Art for years, but after he misses out on your senior awards ceremony, your feelings completely disappear. Seeing you out with a new guy certainly didn't help Art feel any better either. Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drug usage, kissing, mentions of sex.

You had been friends with Art and Tashi since you all were in the 5th grade. Spent hours on the playground together and in each other’s backyards before tennis consumed all three of you. When you all committed to Stanford, the joint going-away party your parents threw was unforgettable for quite a few reasons.

There had never really been any romantic tension between any of you. You and Tashi always had different types, and Art was sort of a self-proclaimed fuckboy so neither of you wanted anything to do with that. At least neither of you ever let it show. You had a sort of evergreen crush on Art, that seemingly persisted through every phase of your lives. From playing spin the bottle in basements to sneaking out for real parties in high school, the silent yearning you had for his touch never fully went away. Even when you had other boyfriends, shamefully, you always caught yourself thinking of Art when you listened to playlists they had made you. So when you walked him out to his car alone after your party, both of you single, Tashi preoccupied with talking to the adults, you knew you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Bathed in the yellowy light of the street lamp, you leaned up against his car, wearing a low-cut white mini dress that did a good job of showing off your assets. Exactly what you wanted in this moment. It was 10pm, and the summer breeze had picked up, making your nipples pique through the thin fabric of the little dress. Art slowly stepped towards you, saying nothing, the lighting making his features dark, shadowy, lustful. His hands found the curve of your waist and pinned you against the chrome car door, tongue snaking its way down your throat with a passion that you had never experienced before. You tangled your hands in his hair, never wanting to let go of him or this moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, but as soon as he pulled away you already missed the taste of his lips against yours. He rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed, thumb rubbing your cheek. And then he got in the car and drove off.

And that was it. You never spoke of that moment again. You never told Tashi. That was it. And it was eating away at you. Your insides were constantly being mauled by a hunger for the feeling of his hands on you again. It was like a drug. A moment that had happened two years ago, and you constantly wanted another hit of that feeling. You all stayed friends, and you started to wonder if Art even remembered that it happened. It became harder and harder with each passing day to just act like things were the same, even when you had boyfriends of your own. You felt awkward bringing them around Art, knowing the way you felt. You still texted him all the time, hoping every notification was one from him. He had never been able to tie down a serious girlfriend, but spent quite a bit of time going on dates, which Tashi thought was trashy. “You can’t just keep leading girls on!” she would constantly groan. Boy, if only she knew. You kept yourself distracted from your own emotions by throwing yourself into school work, knowing that would at least pay off eventually. You excitedly texted Tashi and Art when you learned you were earning a distinguished senior award, and both of them promised to come to the ceremony. Tashi showed up 10 minutes early, always eager and overly punctual. 5 minutes passed, then 10, then 20. No sign of Art. He wasn’t responding to either of your texts, and Tashi started rubbing your back, knowing how excited you were about him being there. You had all done everything together for so long, and Art was missing out on the most important moment of your college career. How could he? This man you had loved for so long suddenly exposing his true colors sent a shock throughout your entire body. It was like waking up from a deep sleep, your feelings for Art slowly dissipating into the air around you. You heard a knock on your apartment door late that night. It was Art, standing there with flowers, wearing his sweat-stained Stanford tennis t-shirt. 

“I am so sorry.” “I don’t care Art,” you snapped, starting to close the door when he put his hand out to stop you, forcing himself inside. “Get out of my house,” each word dripping like venom off your tongue. “At least let me apologize, I overslept.” “You don’t get to just oversleep an important moment in my life and then expect me to act like it never happened,” you were choking back tears, not wanting to appear vulnerable in front of the man who hurt you so badly. “You’re gonna throw 10 years away for this? For one moment?” Art’s emotion was visceral, slicing through the thick tension hanging between the two of you. “I loved you Art,” you said matter of factly. “But this isn’t the only time you’ve “overslept” and no one who is wasting my time is worth any of mine.” He stood there, mouth agape. Tears welling up in the bottom of his eyes. He looked like a sad puppy, which was making it harder and harder for you to remain stone faced.

“What?” he said softly, voice quivering. “Get out, Art.” you choked. You couldn’t do this right now, just wanting to push him out of your apartment and out of your life. He threw the flowers on the table and left, slamming the door behind him. The wilted flowers still sat there two weeks later when you were bringing Patrick through the door, drunkenly stumbling with him to your bedroom. Tashi had set the two of you up after you spent hours crying to her about Art. “You can’t spend the rest of your life buried in a pint of ice cream,” she said. Obviously, it went well, as you watched him slip the condom out of his wallet before you shut your bedroom door.

Things were far from serious between you and Patrick. You couldn’t stand the thought of experiencing real emotion for anyone at the moment. Patrick was fun, he was sexy.  He loved going out and he was always happy to provide you with drunk cigs. Patrick showed up right at the perfect moment on Friday night. You were already drunk and all that tequila had gone straight to your clit. It was like he had a magnetic field around him, pulling you closer and closer with each passing minute. You met on the dance floor, your ass finding his crotch pretty easily as he pulled you in, the bumping techno song intoxicating you even more on him. 

“Oh hey that guy over there sits next to me in class!” Patrick waved and grinned before getting back to feeling you up. It was Art. Standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching you bump and grind with a guy who he thought was a random classmate. Your phone pinged and you sneakily pulled it out to read the text. It was from Art.

“I’m pretty sure he does coke.” You rolled your eyes and glared at him.

“I don’t really care Art.”

“I’d be a much better dance partner.” he shot back

Your stomach fluttered a bit at that, but you suppressed it. Remembering why you had distanced yourself from Art in the first place. “Let’s get out of here” you whispered to Patrick.

The two of you waded through the crowd, hand-in-hand, and you were sure to choose a path that led you directly by Art. You walked past without glancing at him. Once you reached the door, you saw him standing there still, watching, mouth drawn in a tight line, brows furrowed.

You had never felt so satisfied.

dividers by @.cafekitsune

tags: @fangirlinc @nuhteyam

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.1 gojo satoru sent you a message

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 1.3k (short one to start off, but the rest are longer)

a/n. welcome to this pilot chapter! this was originally going to be a one-shot but i got way too carried away and ended up planning out a whole series. i hope you enjoy!

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☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

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|| 2:13AM Gojo Satoru has requested to follow you

You blink the sleepiness in your eyes away as the harsh light of your phone hits your face. Somewhere in the middle of the crazy dream you were having, you heard your phone incessantly pinging and eventually woke you up to make you realize you forgot to turn the ringer off before going to sleep. Among all the spam email, iCloud storage warnings, and news headliners, there was one notification in particular that had you wondering if you were still dreaming.

“Ugh…y/n, please, turn your phone off,” you heard your roommate Mina mumble in the twin sized bed at the other end of the room as she shuffled her pillow above her head so that it covered both of her ears. You glance out the window of your shared apartment, peering at the pale moonlight, before your tired and heavy eyes travel back to your phone and press on the Instagram notification.

Suspecting this was maybe some prank account, you clicked on the small icon in your inbox that took you to a profile page. Gojo Satoru, Senior at University of Tokyo, Business Major, D1 Soccer #10, SAE. 12k followers, 172 following, 38 posts. 

Still thinking you’re dreaming, you accept the follow request and watch as the number on his following increases by one, now 173. Your thumb swipes up on your phone as you take in the square images of his profile. Pictures of him and his friends recreating memes…food that he’s eaten recently…frequent vacation posts in exotic countries…and a whole lot of what seemed to be professionally taken soccer photos of him striking goals and hitting balls with his head in mid air. You have put a lot of effort into your own Instagram photos (despite your modest 464 followers), mostly posting compilation slideshows of your favorite film photos that you’ve taken recently, yet somehow his feed looks much more inviting than yours.

You turn onto your side and continue to look through his photos. 624 comments, 373 comments, 958 comments. Many were from his friends trying to embarrass him, and many others were from girls that probably wanted him to notice them. You noticed he only really replied to comments from his friends. 

You knew who he was, of course. Gojo Satoru was one of the most, if not the most, popular guys on your college campus. When you got to college, you thought the whole “social hierarchy” thing would be over but it still seemed like there were certain groups of people that almost everyone knew about, "elite" individuals who other students could only dream of associating with. At UTokyo, the fraternities and sororities practically owned the place so of course Gojo was well-known since he was a member of the school’s most iconic frat, SAE. Not to mention, the school adored its soccer team–undefeated since 2012–and Gojo Satoru was the most talented center forward the division has seen in years. 

But as for why he requested to follow you, a film major that doesn’t play any sports and isn’t even in a sorority, well you’re just not sure. 

It’s then when you get yet another notification. 

“Oh my god, y/n, turn it off!” Mina mumbles into her mattress. You click the side button to turn off the ringer. 

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru sent you a message 

Your heart starts to beat a bit faster as you quickly slide to your DMs page. You notice three unread conversations from a few of your friends, probably from when they decided to send you their entire explore page, and then you see a little (1) next to your message requests box. When you open it, you see his icon in your inbox. It’s a simple picture of him in his soccer jersey, his smile wide as one of his team members who was mostly cropped out of the photo seemed to be putting him in a headlock. You see the first few words of the message.

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weir…

You’re about to click on it when you stop yourself. It was really late at night and you didn’t know if you wanted to entertain a conversation with this man you knew literally nothing about (at least on a personal level) and weren’t even sure why he was messaging you in the first place. Plus, he would see that you’ve read it and so you would feel anxious to respond. But there was no way to see his full message unless you opened it. Even though you considered this to be weirdly intimate since it was a message sent at two in the morning, you figured that was probably normal for the likes of people like Gojo Satoru, who probably were out drinking and partying until five in the morning every night, regardless of any 8AM lectures or not. 

But unfortunately, curiosity always kills the cat (that’s the expression, right?) and so you click on his message. 

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weird…I don’t think we’ve ever met before, but my buddy’s really into your roommate, and he’s tried to invite her out to our frat’s house parties but he’s had no luck. Think you could convince her to come this weekend? You’re welcome to come too, of course

You blink in surprise before rolling your eyes, not entirely sure why you were expecting any different. Maybe Mina wasn’t budging on his friend’s advances because she wants to be asked out on an actual date, and not to some house party. But you figured frat guys wouldn’t really understand that. Besides, how did he know that you were her roommate? You’re just about to type a response when you see three little dots in the left side corner, indicating he was typing, and you hold your breath.

|| 2:27AM Gojo Satoru: Here are the details

And then he sends you a post from what looks like his fraternity’s Instagram page. There’s an address, a time, the name of the DJ and girls get in free bolded at the top. You realize you’ve never even been invited to a fraternity’s house party until this very moment. 

You briefly consider not responding to him and just setting your phone back down on your nightstand, rolling over, and falling asleep. But you find your fingers moving on their own to type.

|| 2:31AM You: you’re messaging me to help your friend get with my roommate?

There’s an uncomfortable two minutes where there’s no response from him and for some reason your anxiety is through the roof. You remember the countless times you’ve heard people describe Gojo Satoru in passing: there’s just something about him that demands your attention. 

His notification pops up at the top of the Instagram app when you were scrolling through reels to distract yourself and you accidentally clicked on it too fast. 

|| 2:33AM Gojo Satoru: Uh, yeah? 

You sigh as you ponder the proposition. You don’t even know for sure why Mina wasn’t really responding to his friend’s advances, maybe the guy was a creep or just not her type. And even if she was somewhat interested in him, she’s already refused to go to any of their frat’s house parties, so how would you be able to persuade her? 

You finally convince yourself you’ve had enough of Gojo’s messages for the night and you’ll choose whether or not you want to revisit the topic again in the morning, until another message flashes across your screen.

|| 2:38AM Gojo Satoru: What can I do to get you to convince her to come this weekend?

You bite down on your lip at his question, and an idea flashes through your mind.

|| 2:40AM You: i’ll find a way to convince her. my terms and conditions will come later

He responds in a second.

|| 2:40AM Gojo Satoru: Deal 

a/n. dude literally slid into your DMs lol. thank you for reading! i also post this story over on AO3, if you're more into that format, but i just wanted to start posting over here on tumblr too. hope to see you in the next one!

➸ take me to chapter two!

[saerins]

─── 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 7.1k | content: fluff, making out, college!au, mentions of insecurity, only very brief angst !!, alcohol, slight jealousy

notes: this was supposed to be lengthier and in smau format but i suck at that so here it is in fic format :’) i know i know, i write sae way too much </3

summary: you have a crush on sae. for a long time now. and he’s always known that. he just wants to see how long you can hold out.

HIGH SCHOOL: 2ND YEAR

itoshi sae knows you like him.

you’re really obvious it’s pathetic, really. once during recess, he’d wanted to go back to the classroom to get some shut eye because soccer was way too draining lately, and guess who he saw slipping a little love note into his locker?

of course you. you and your little pink heart-shaped post-it that read i think you’re cute and i really really like you. because it was valentines and you were one of the many to send him little scribbles of confessions.

even now, when you sit just a couple of rows in front of him, he catches you looking behind at him, and sae purposely doesn’t look at you, doesn’t let you know he knows you’re staring. he’s not really sure why. maybe he feels bad if he exposes you or something.

throughout the rest of your sophomore year in high school, he continues to observe as you so subtly (not really) try to be friends with him. you always try to get picked to be in the same group as him for projects (which never works out), you try to sit next to him in lecture halls (but his friends cockblock you always), and during phys ed classes you try so hard with soccer but you’re really quite bad at it.

maybe it’s sae not being able to continue observing your failures that he throws you a bone.

“you need to bend your knees a little more.”

frozen stiff from the unexpected company, you awkwardly try to bend your knees further, all while staring at the ground. if sae was nice, he’d laugh and joke around with you, asking why you seemed so scared of him. but he’s not, so he only sighs and stands beside you while you try.

after a few more seconds, sae understands you don’t really understand so he moves to push down on your thigh, and by then you really freeze up, falling flat on your ass in front of him.

sae wants to laugh now, really, because it’s amusing how nervous you are. for no good reason too.

the next time sae talks to you, it’s during lunch time when he queues up behind you. on purpose. he doesn’t even usually eat from this stall, but seeing you there makes him want to mess with you a little. he purposely stands a little too close, makes himself prone to an accidental bump.

which does happen. because you’re just like that.

“oh, sor—” you stop midway as if realising it’s sae immediately dissolves you of any obliged apologies. “sorry,” you force out before whipping your attention back in front. the both of you don’t talk in that moment and sae can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

but sae continues to help you during phys ed classes, and you still try to get assigned to be his group mate. nothing groundbreaking happens during sophomore year of high school because nothing is born out of it.

nothing, except maybe a tiny bit of sae’s inexplicable emotions for you.

HIGH SCHOOL: SENIOR YEAR

sae thinks maybe you went to a shrine over the holidays. how else would he explain you finally getting partnered with him on a project? and to top it off, it’s a two-person team for the entire year.

you get him all to yourself.

the moment the teacher calls your name after his, it’s like sae can practically see your tail wagging. you manage to compose yourself when you catch him staring at you though.

it’s a little cute, if he’s being honest.

“so, what do you think our project should be about?” your voice wavers a little when you speak to him. is he that intimidating?

sae wonders what if he tries to be a dick during this project. would you be obedient or would you actually bite back?

he tries to find out.

sae shrugs and acts disinterested, staring out the window of the second floor of the library where you’d both agreed to meet to work on it together. “don’t know, don’t care, think you could handle it for us? i’ve got too many soccer trainings, too tired.”

for a split second, you’re taken aback—he sees you sitting upright a little more, blinking twice at him because surely that’s not what you imagined your crush to behave like. not when he has straight As and is almost the top of your cohort.

and for a while, sae thinks you might actually be the former; obediently listening to him, making sure he’s happy. but then you furrow your brows and clench your fists and go “itoshi sae, who do you think you are” and oh, oh, you’re not the former, you’re the latter and you’d actually kill him if he was a dick. fuck.

somehow his hands instinctively come up in surrender and his mouth opens, “i was just kidding.”

it’s almost comical how your expression softens up immediately and you laugh, and sae keeps staring at you because you actually have a really nice smile. he never really noticed it before. and when the two of you actually get started on the project, sae finds himself observing you more than actually contributing.

yeah, you’re really quite pretty.

“any plans for the summer?”

it’s now almost july and summer break is around the corner, and to be honest sae’s kind of bummed about it. it’s beyond him why not seeing you would make him disappointed, but he’s not going to try and pursue the reason. he has his training camps to worry about.

“soccer. you?”

“mmm, a short trip with my parents.”

usually sae would leave it at that, but he asks about you, and he sees that tail wagging again. “where?”

“just gonna go to hokkaido,” you tell him. and you look like you’re anticipating him to ask more, but sae’s stuck. he doesn’t really know what to ask. he’s not exactly curious as to what you’d be doing there.

so you take matters into your own hand when you swiftly grab his phone from the table, key in your number and call yourself from his phone before putting it right back. sae watches you the whole time, wondering when exactly you’d gotten this bold.

“there, now you can’t escape me even over summer break.”

and he doesn’t. because you text him about your trip when you’re there, you send him pictures of the scenery and of the food you’re eating and you’re really inconsiderate because you send him that shit when he’s stuck in soccer bootcamp with twenty-four sweaty guys who’s none the better than him.

sae can end it by all means, just by not responding to you, but for the first time, talking to someone isn’t really a pain, and he thinks you’re kind of funny and the stickers you send are kind of cute so he’ll let this continue. even if by continue he means sending mediocre, lacklustre responses that just barely manages to keep the conversation going.

(in sae’s mind at eighteen, sending replies like okay and i see are considered acceptable and subjectively considered effort.)

when summer break finally ends and it’s early september, sae finally sees you again while he walks to school. he walks a little faster just to catch up to you before he adjusts his pace, acts like it’s coincidence that he’s right beside you.

and somehow he’s made it a routine; to memorise what bus you get off of and catch you on the way to school. even if he sees you in classes and even after classes in the library.

you’re acting a little less like he’s on a podium and more like normal friends and he kind of likes that. he likes being able to see you unfiltered when you gossip, likes seeing you laugh at stupid lame jokes, likes the way you hang close to him whenever you’re beside him.

okay maybe like is a little stretching it, he doesn’t mind being able to tolerate it. or maybe he’s just in denial, whatever.

winter comes and it’s somehow the time when more girls try to talk to him, mainly because somehow the school decides to hold a winter event this year; it’s going to be held near the edge of the city, where the biggest skating rink is.

by his guess, most girls are looking for a guy to have a skating date with.

in the library during your usual meetup for the school project, sae gets more than a couple visitors trying to get him for that same reason. you eye everyone that approaches the table, and sae can’t help but notice how he actually likes when you’re pouty. maybe it’s his twisted thinking that jealousy means you’re still into him.

“itoshi-kun, i was thinking whether you wanted to go to the winter event together?” another girl from your class, mizuno, asks him, and sae is tired of it, frankly. but he doesn’t show it. he only looks at you, and you look back at him because he doesn’t usually stare for this long.

then, he looks at mizuno and rejects her.

“sorry, can’t, i’m going with y/n.”

(you get home that day being completely flustered and completely happy.)

on the day of the event, sae keeps his word. he goes with you, sticks beside you the entire time. his friends snap pictures of the two of you and you always look so embarrassed. maybe you’re just not used to all of this attention. but that’s fine, it’s cute.

one thing he learns about you is that you can be real clumsy sometimes. like now, when you get so excited over your watermelon slushie that you somehow spill it all over your jacket and clothes.

sae ends up giving you his puffy winter jacket while he braves the cold with whatever he has left. that’s fine, he’s strong. besides, getting to watch you wear his jacket the entire time feels like a bonus somehow.

he thinks by now you should confess already, but you don’t. you’re happy to stay in this bubble with him right now, whichever phase the two of you are at. so is he. it feels kind of nice.

feels especially nice when you hang onto him for dear life in the skating rink even though neither of you are moving. sae’s aware that people are staring holes into both of you but it’s strange how much he doesn’t mind when it’s with you. that’s why he holds his hands out, lets you take them, makes himself pull you along. he finds himself wishing neither of you were wearing gloves so he could feel how soft your hands are.

by the end of the day, everyone takes it that the both of you are together, even though the both of you are too avoidant to talk about it.

“hey, sae? thanks for today,” you say later that night when everything is done and you’d had the giddiest experience with sae. he’s walking you home and he doesn’t even know why; it’s a mystery to him why he keeps himself close whenever he can.

“it’s fine, i was the one who told people i was going with you, so.”

when he gets you to your front porch, you don’t go in immediately, standing right there with your back facing him, and sae wonders what’s going through your head. if only he could see the expression on your face right now, maybe he’d know.

you let him; because you turn around, giving him a big smile before you take a step forward and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, immediately turning on your heel and running into your house.

neither of you say bye, both of you are just a little too stunned to speak. sae stands out there in the cold for a little while longer, his face and ears red—he’s not even sure whether it’s from the weather or from you—but even when he starts to leave, you’re still slumped at your front door, covering your face in embarrassment, knees too weak to stand up.

there’s only one more quarter left until you graduate and sae and you both act like nothing happened that day. you still gossip unfiltered and he still listens but acts like he doesn’t.

except now instead of sitting across from you, he opts to sit directly beside you. sometimes sits a little too close just so your arms will brush against each other. sae also lets you keep his puffy jacket because you said you liked it.

you wear it throughout winter.

when graduation comes around and it’s time for sae to choose his university, he can’t help but take a peek at your screen. a smile comes to his face when he sees your first choice is the same as his. you’re smart too, he doesn’t doubt you’ll get in.

“itoshi sae, you can smile?”

sae immediately turns it into a frown. “guess not.”

you take your words back. “hey, i’m just kidding! it’s just rare… that’s all.”

so you notice him a lot then?

sure, you might not have seen him smile a lot. but that’s fine. from what sae knows, you have the entirety of your university years to possibly catch it.

UNIVERSITY: FRESHMAN YEAR

of course you enter the same university as itoshi sae. it’s not on purpose, but you’re glad you both made it here anyway.

at least knowing one friendly face is better than none.

to be honest, you’re not really sure where you and sae stand. he’s never said anything about that kiss, but he also doesn’t stay away from you. can you take that as a positive thing?

if anything, he’s even closer.

somehow, his dorms and yours are practically next door. when you open your bathroom window, you can look right into his. it happened once, by accident, and you’d caught him, shirtless with just a white towel hanging around his neck, hair damp as he brushes his teeth, the droplets of water on his abs looking very inviting.

but then he caught you staring and you’ve shut your bathroom window ever since. thankfully, he never mentions it.

being in university and staying in campus meant that you were both hanging out much more informally. and you’d think that two people at the age of nineteen who’d known each other for three years would be less awkward than this but it’s you and sae and somehow there’s always an element of awkwardness.

it’s halfway into your freshman year and you’d just watched the first match that sae’s playing for the university team. you’re a little starstruck, honestly. to think that the guy you’ve always had a crush on is this good at soccer.

he’s amazing. you’re feeling like a potato sack.

“hey, you know him right?” hime gushes.

your friends are with you, so it’s natural they ask.

mira on your left sighs, “guess we have no shot with him since he’s with y/n all the time,” she says, nudging you in the elbow.

you’re starting to regret bringing them here with all the teasing. you’re also regretting coming here yourself because you see several girls running to him asking for a picture together. some of which you recognise, some of which are the popular girls.

sae doesn’t stop them from snapping what they can, but he also doesn’t stop for them at all. instead, he saunters over to you, hime and mira wordlessly disappearing to the side.

“gimme that,” sae says, gesturing to the phone in your hand. you obey, of course, and he smirks, then he snaps a selfie with you before tossing your phone back and walking off.

the pairs of eyes on you make you half-embarrassed yet half-proud. even with this many fangirls, sae chooses to come to you.

that night sae asks you to send him the picture.

yeah, maybe you can take that as a positive thing.

freshman year after that is generally uneventful. you and sae are both trying to find your footing, with him preoccupied mostly with soccer trainings while you’re drowning in assignments and projects that have nothing to do with him.

but you still see him in the mornings sometimes, when you walk past your common room and he’s in his, and you wave at him when he’s alone so you’re not so shy, and he nods in acknowledgement before he just walks away.

one night while you’re burning the midnight oil trying to cram some accounting knowledge into your brain, you get a text from sae.

wanna get supper?

both of you end up at one of the supper spots outside of school, a little cosy shop that sells boba and ramen even after midnight.

“why’d you wanna get supper?”

sae shrugs, taking a sip of his plain water. “just bored, couldn’t sleep.”

“isn’t this soccer season? you can’t even eat anything in here, it’s definitely not passable for your diet.”

he sighs, leaning back against his chair. “so? quit whining and start eating your shit already.”

if it was some other guy you’d be rolling your eyes and storming off. but it’s sae and you know him and he thinks he’s talking normally like this. besides, when you catch his eyes flicker up to lock with yours you get a little dizzy inside.

“what’re you up so late for anyway?”

sae’s fingers are drumming lightly against the surface of the metal table, teal eyes diligently observing as you bring the strands of noodle to your lips. “told you, i couldn’t sleep.”

you find that strange; he’s always been able to sleep, no problem. and he’s strict about his eight hour sleep schedule. what could be getting to the great itoshi sae?

(sae’s lying through his teeth; having his bedroom right across from yours means he can see when your lights aren’t out. sue him for being a little concerned.)

“so, heard you and the team are going on a soccer trip somewhere in europe,” you bring up. you’d heard it from your friends, strangely, instead of sae himself.

he nods. “yeah, just a select few,” he tells you, “only if we win the tournament though, then the team’ll officially invite us over.”

so-called team you heard about is real madrid, and you’d be crazy to think that sae couldn’t help your university team win on his own.

“guess i won’t be seeing you around when you go,” you mumble idly, not completely aware of what you’re basically saying.

sae is adept at reading in between the lines, but he doesn’t probe you on it. he’s not sure he wants to. he doesn’t know what this is. do you still like him? does he like you too? all these feelings are new; sae doesn’t know what to do with it.

so he keeps it to himself. for now.

he doesn’t really do a good job at following through with it though, because on the day of the tournament finals, he looks at you and winks right as he orchestrates that winning goal for his team, and you’re left wondering if you’re imagining things.

UNIVERSITY: SOPHOMORE YEAR

the final part of your freshman year went and gone, and it didn’t go exactly how you imagined it to be. you didn’t expect to hear from sae at all when he went on his trip after that tournament.

but you did.

he replied you whenever he had the time. told you anything you asked for. even called you when you had a mini meltdown because of finals.

to be frank, you don’t know what the both of you are anymore. you’re cursing yourself for being too scared to ask.

“hey y/n, have you seen hime anywhere?”

it’s oliver asking, captain of the university’s soccer team and also hime’s current situationship. he’d started hitting her up since that first time sae played and brought attention to you and the people around you.

“yeah, she’s by the pool with mira.”

oliver leaves as soon as you tell him, and you stand awkwardly at the corner of the living room, by the full panel of glass windows, wondering if you should just go home. you’d only came because hime and mira both said you needed to experience a party at least once this year but now you’re surrounded by people making out and drunkards slipping into the pool that it makes you regret giving this a shot at all.

especially since sae’s not going to be back till tomorrow, garnering as much interest as he did during his time in spain. you really have no reason to be here.

“hey there, pretty.”

startled, you find a familiar face up close in your personal space, his finger twirling your hair. you’d recognise that head of blonde and pink anywhere.

“oh, you’re ryusei shido right? you’re on the soccer team with sae,” you think out loud, and he nods, and you can see his blonde lashes so closely it’s making you flustered.

“mhm, fwhat’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a corner? seems like a shame,” he comments, though he doesn’t even give you a chance to answer. the next thing you know, shido drags you into a drinking game with hime and mira (which is why your first instinct wasn’t to run off, if you could trust anyone it’s your best friends). although, shido is getting annoyingly close and you can’t decide if you’re nervous or annoyed.

and the heavens surely love you when they let shido draw the card that corresponds to a dare, and they love testing your boundaries when some guy called otoya dares him to kiss you.

but no, you know that the heavens really do love you when someone yanks shido’s hair back and pulls him away from your face, taking his spot in between the both of you in the bid for proximity that you don’t mind because it’s itoshi sae.

“sae, what’re you doing here? i thought you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow,” you ask, a little shell-shocked but you still notice he’s discerning frown and how there’s barely any space between the two of you.

he looks at you, tilting his head, “what? my girl’s not happy to see me here?”

you don’t respond. half because you think you’re dreaming and fuck—really, did he just call you his girl?

“eh? i don’t recall you having a girlfriend?” shido leers, a hand on the spot of his head where sae had pulled on earlier.

“yeah, besides, shido still has to do the dare.” otoya sounds bored more than anything, but the guy beside him, karasu, if you remember correctly, is smirking.

sae sighs, and you feel like you must’ve crossed the boundary to another dimension when you feel sae’s lips on yours, and you think you’re in limbo when you feel his hand on your neck, pulling you close. his tongue pries your lips apart and people are whistling while shido’s behind him saying get a fucking room or i’ll beat off to this.

when the object of your affection finally pulls away, you’re met with the same pair of unbothered teal eyes, the pair that immediately turns to face otoya. “there, did it for him. now move on.”

you’re beginning to thank alcohol for its existence when almost everyone obeys wordlessly, moving on to some other guy’s turn. you really can’t remember who sits on shido’s right when all you can think of is that itoshi sae, your longtime high school crush, actually kissed you.

that’s enough to warrant the question, right? the question of what sae takes you for?

the inner debate sparks long into the night, even when sae walks you back to your apartment, the both of you side by side in silence.

“sae, what was that?”

he plays coy. “what was what?”

you’re only a little tipsy, so you can still tolerate his avoidance. “you confuse me a lot, you know that?”

sae doesn’t take the bait. “oh, i see.”

“you were jealous.” he was. he really was. you can tell; he was sour to shido the entire night. he stuck close to you too, sometimes your fingers brushed against each other’s.

“so what if i was?”

this one is new. sae’s actually admitting it. and usually you’d chicken out but you can see your apartment coming into view and you don’t want to let this go.

“what am i to you, sae?” you manage to choke it out a few feet away from the door, and sae stops in his tracks, hands in his pocket and teal eyes looking heavenward.

you’re beginning to regret your decision to ask; you’re not sure if his indecision is a good or bad thing. nothing seems to be simple when it comes to itoshi sae.

but he does nothing to appease your confusion when he steps in front of you, his body pressed flush against yours as he presses another kiss to your lips, and you think this one is special because it’s not done in the name of a dare or in front of anyone else. this kiss is for you and you alone and sae is doing this on purpose.

when he pulls back, you see him furrow his brows and you can tell that maybe he’s just as confused as you are.

“when i managed to get an earlier slot for my flight, all i could think about was how excited i was to see you.”

is this… a confession? you’re even more confused now that you don’t even know what to say.

to be honest, so is sae, which is why he swallows the lump in his throat and relegates to his apartment, “goodnight.”

things after that change just a little.

you’d decided to go with the flow, just because you really don’t want to sabotage whatever friendship you and sae had left, although most of the time, sae is the one toeing the line. even though he doesn’t outright tell you anything regarding his feelings.

but you think you figured him out.

sae asks you out whenever you’re both free, and not for shit like studying or errands, but for movies and dinner and he drives you around in his car and looks at you like you’re the only girl he sees. his eyes don’t wander when he’s with you, and he lets you wear even more of his jackets. it’s also evolved to his jerseys and his beloved windbreakers. you have one of each in your own closet and he never seems to ask for them back anymore. he also lets you wear his rings, puts them on your fingers randomly.

both of you still go for parties, especially when it’s one of the soccer guys who are throwing it, because they practically force sae to go and they know you’re the key to convincing him.

most of the time the two of you just laze on the couch, drinking and talking about nothing at all, and he idly plays with your fingers when he’s tipsy, something you never tell him because you like it, because you don’t want him to feel self-conscious and stop. he also smells your hair after he sends you home and hugs you before he retreats to his place, and you wonder if he’s fully sober when he does that.

you resign to getting your answer some other time, because you don’t want anything to ruin this, if this is just an illusion. yeah, you’d talking feelings some other time.

UNIVERSITY: JUNIOR YEAR

you really had no right to be, but you are. try as you might, you can’t stop yourself from feeling the way you do. especially not when she’s sitting so so close to him, when her hand brushes his fingers.

she’s just his project partner, nothing more, but something irks you about the way she can get so close to him so quickly when it took you much longer. but then you hear from shido that kaori is rin and sae’s childhood friend, so maybe that’s why they’re so damn close.

apparently, she’d gotten back to japan after ten years abroad. with great timing too, right when you thought you and sae could amount to something.

“you know, i could help you make him jealous if you wanna,” shido whispers in your ear one time when he catches you staring at them. “we’ll make him feel how you feel, m’kay?”

and while that’s tempting, you shake your head. it’s unreasonable for you to take it out on him that way, not when he hasn’t actually done anything that proves he’s just leading you on.

lately sae’s been so busy around kaori that you’re just thinking too much. you’re wondering if he’s slowly replacing you. he still talks to you over text, but you barely hang out like you did before. you still spot him through the windows, but he’s always too tired to notice you. even his texts are getting slower.

“hey, you okay?”

trust it to hime to notice your personal dilemma. you’re not really surprised though, because she’s been watching you moping for the last few weeks. she now has oliver wrapped fully around her finger, with him sticking around her all the time, which is a surprise considering his reputation.

but hime will take your side, you know this, and maybe that’s why you play it off. you don’t want her to hate sae because of a momentary feeling, so you tell her you’re just sick and you’ll go back home.

the moment you get back to your apartment, you see sae waiting out on the front, car ready while he leans against the hood, waiting.

and you might’ve asked if he was waiting for kaori, but then he looks up and sees you and smirks and that’s all you need to know that he’s not. he was waiting for you, and now he’s opening the passenger side door and telling you to “get in, stupid.”

that’s how sae is with you, impromptu and surprisingly sweet. he drives you to the pier, a cute spot right next to an amusement park where he’d gotten you some candy floss before the both of you just sits on the hood of his car, enjoying the scenery.

“why’d you suddenly bring me here?”

sae lies down, the sun hitting his face in all the right places. he’s gorgeous, you realise for what seems like the thousandth time since you’d known him.

“oliver told me you’d been a little mopey lately,” sae says, and you’re already embarrassed. “sorry if i’ve been busy lately.”

you mirror his position, lying down next to him, and it feels oddly nice like this. you’re not sure if it’s the situation or the person.

“it’s okay, i heard that kaori’s your old friend right? you guys must have a lot to catch up on.” it doesn’t stop you from feeling jealous, but it’ll pass. you hope.

sae chuckles before he turns to you, and you turn to face him too, “you’re jealous.” he smirks, and you’re reminded of the same thing you told him that first night he kissed you.

“shut up, sae.”

he laughs because you’re being pouty, and because maybe it feels a little nice to know you can feel it too. just then, he mirrors what you did way back in high school, reaching across you for your phone. except he doesn’t key in anything—he opens up your camera and takes a picture of the two of you like this, sae looking naturally handsome and better than you because you’re stunned he’s doing this, eyes wide and expression puzzled.

“what’s that for?”

sae’s still fiddling on your phone as you ask, and then he passes it back to you. he’d set it as your phone’s wallpaper.

“to remind you that you’re the one i like, idiot.”

and even though you and sae aren’t physically too close in the wallpaper, you think maybe it’s enough to tide your feelings through for now. he doesn’t ask you for anything else after that, just leaves his confession at that and sends you home before saying he has to finish up his project, aka going to find kaori.

it’s fine by you though, because now you know where sae’s head’s at, even though he never explicitly asked you anything. you’re sure he knows how you feel too, especially since you’d been the one to kiss him first that day a few years back.

but how apt for you to go to sleep early and be woken up by dozens of messages blowing up your phone, the majority of them attaching pictures at a certain party.

still pictures of sae locking lips with kaori, and you feel your heart sinking.

sae’s message comes through just as you’re scrolling through your phone.

meet me at my place? not what it looks like, i promise.

and maybe it’s because you feel like you know sae well enough that you’re not even panicking. you respond within seconds.

sure, see you!

you take the liberty of going next door, entering when one of the other guys who lives there clumsily walks in drunk. it’s easy enough to find sae’s room, you recognise it from across your own room too well. and maybe it’s a slight invasion of privacy but you can’t help but turn your attention to his desk.

his room is all neat with the occasional laundry thrown on the corner of the room, trophies and medals on the bookshelf by the table. but what catches your eye is the little pink heart-shaped post-it note that looks all too familiar.

your handwriting fills the piece of paper.

i think you’re cute and i really really like you

you could cringe right now from how cringe you were being back then. but then you realise, sae kept this? did he keep this knowing it was from you? you hear the door opening downstairs and jump back a little, accidentally pressing on his keyboard while trying to place your note back in its position, and the screensaver that greets you renders you speechless.

it’s the picture sae took of the both of you at the bleachers of his first match.

someone closes the laptop before you can think any more, and you’re greeted with sae right next to you, cheeks flushed—either from alcohol or embarrassment. you can’t really tell, but judging from the lack of alcohol stench, you’d like to bet it’s the latter.

“you have me as your wallpaper?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed he didn’t get there in time for you not to see that. “who else would i put there?”

you bite your tongue to stop yourself from instinctively saying kaori out of spite. guess you’re still a little groggy from being woken up in the middle of the night.

“about earlier,” sae begins, not really sure how to continue.

“you mean the pics going around of you and kaori kissing?” you’re not even mad, you’re sure there’s an explanation—that’s how much you feel you know itoshi sae. he’s not the type to bother with leading someone on; if anything, he’s probably the type to immediately cut things off if he wasn’t interested and so far, he’s always been thinking of you.

sae sighs, rubbing his temple before taking a seat on his bed. “that was fucking stupid,” he grumbles, eyes closed. “she was way too tipsy and getting all up in my face and before i knew it she just—” his eyes are open now, briefly looking at you before looking away, hiding behind the sides of his soft locks, “she kissed me. i was stunned for a little so…”

you snicker a little, because sae looks so different from how he usually looks—aloof, ignorant, arrogant. now he looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the side and you can’t help but notice the difference.

“sae… why are you telling me this?”

screw his indecisiveness, if it was in the first place. you want his answer now, up straight. and sae seems to know what you’re thinking because he chuckles, relieved because he can read your tone—you’re not angry, not upset, you trust him somehow and it’s only because despite what you think, you know him better than anyone else.

“fuck off, y/n, you already know,” and he says this affectionately because you can feel the tenderness in the way he says your name, in the way he invites you into his arms—the way he pulls you close and lets you sit facing him on his lap. “you gonna be my girlfriend now or what?”

your lips are so so close and you’re both holding back so so much. “mmm i don’t know, itoshi sae, what if i wanna see you beg me for it?”

“god, i hate you,” he says, without meaning it. it’s the first time you’re actually feeling how strong he is, because he lifts you up from the back of your thighs and throws you on his bed as he hovers over you, a little squeal leaving your lips at the unexpected gesture. “hm, kinda like that sound you make.”

he’s saying it so monotonously that you’re embarrassed. “shut up, sae, before i leave.”

“that’s cute, you think you’d actually leave me,” he teases, and you curse yourself for finding that slight condescending tone of his hot. “but hey, really, be my girlfriend.”

“you asking me that after kissing another girl?” you act shocked, acutely aware of how his fingers are all intertwining with yours, your hands on either side of your head, sae pinning you down. if anyone walked in now, they’d get the wrong idea of what you two are doing. for sure. but you try to act unbothered, you don’t want to boost his ego even more.

sae leans down to press his forehead against yours, and you’re hoping your heart doesn’t leap out of your chest because he’d definitely feel it. “shit timing, i know. but you’re the only one i want, so.”

he’s pretty shit at talking emotions, you realise. and then you realise that this only works because you’re equally good at reading his. despite his reluctance to talk emotions, he shows you how special you are, constantly.

many girls want him, but you’re the one he spends most of his time with. you’re the one with his actual clothes in your closet and his rings on your fingers. you’re the one sae kisses and willingly so, the only one who’s on his wallpaper reminding him of what he’ll have each time he comes home.

“i told kaori i liked you and no one else too,” sae continues explaining, though he really doesn’t need to. you listen anyway. “she got mad and stormed off but shit, i don’t care. only care about you.”

and he’s pretty forthcoming with his feelings when he wants to be and that’s enough for you. you squeeze his fingers lightly and smile at him.

you don’t have to hear any more to know.

“i love you too, itoshi sae.”

the way he marks you that night lets you in on everything you need to know.

UNIVERSITY: SENIOR YEAR

six years.

it’s been six years since you’d first had a crush on itoshi sae. and now you’re his girlfriend, always in the front row for every match and the object of most of his fangirls’ hatred. that’s okay though, none of that matters.

whenever you come back home to your (shared) apartment now, it’s like all your worries melt away into the void, and sae reminds you just how much you mean. even if his pet names are less than swoon-worthy at times.

“you really need to stop posting shit like this,” you deadpan, showing sae your phone screen. it’s a picture of you asleep in the morning, drooling on his bare shoulder.

sae blinks, acting coy like he always does. “what? it’s cute.”

“you’re insufferable, itoshi.”

sae ignores that, switching the subject. “hey, you have any goals for your twenties?”

you hum, pondering. “well, i guess if i could do what i want, i’d travel the world,” you pause, sitting up on the sofa and looking at him. “why?”

it’s the last year of university, and the both of you are finishing your degrees, with the possibility that sae might be getting a contract with one of the overseas clubs. you’re not really sure; there’s a few of them who’ve expressed interest, but you’d always let sae think through it on his own.

does his question have something to do with that?

“was thinking i wanted to take you along if you wanted to come with,” sae half explains, because he’s bad with details like that. he continues when he spots your confusion, “if you wanted to explore wherever i decided to go.”

oh, he means he wants to take you along to wherever he decided to go. you’re flattered, honestly.

“you mean, the itoshi sae wants to bring me wherever he goes, huh?” sae is already turning red, sensing your big head. “you offering to be my sugar daddy too?”

sae sighs. “you’re so stupid, i swear,” he complains, his words lacking any bite because he’s rubbing circles onto your arms. “you said you found some remote jobs right? thought we could make use of that and just go wherever together.”

after six years, you finally see sae trying to plan a future where the both of you are together. he loves soccer, but he loves you too, and you’re not the kind of person who’d make him choose, so you appreciate his compromises instead.

“itoshi sae, i’ll follow you wherever you go.”

he presses a hasty kiss on your lips, “good, ‘cause i plan on keeping you forever.”

you grin, pulling him down to you and kissing him even deeper, “i’ll hold you to your words, then.”

sae smiles against your lips. because he knows he got lucky with you, lucky you were there at the right moment, slipping your love letter into his locker. lucky you continued to like him, lucky you knew how to put him in his place whenever. lucky you’re you and you love him.

maybe he’s always liked you, even back in freshman year of high school when he realised how kind you are, how gentle you could be. you looked pretty in the sun that day, when he first saw you trying out soccer in the yard and falling flat on your ass. you didn’t notice him back then but he noticed you, not that you knew. sae didn’t try anything because he was sure it’d fail. but who knew all it took for his mind to change was a simple nudge from you?

he’s pretty sure that you’re his human manifestation of a forever.

“when the time comes, just say yes.”

[aerinaga]

can I request a Paige x jealous one year younger reader

wow, okay.

paige bueckers x jealous one year younger!reader

warnings: none

synopsis: paige and her colleagues are working on a project together. one girl, specifically kate, is being too close to paige.

you and paige have been dating for a while now, everything is going well. its just that you’re a year younger than her, meaning that you’re not on the same level in college. there have been ups and downs with communication, but its been going well for a while.

you were currently with ice and kk, hanging out together in the dorm while you wait for paige.

paige was currently in the study hall with her groupmates for a project, she’s been there working for 2 hours already.

the three of you were talking about the team, especially with the new freshmen and transferees in the season.

you noticed that its been a few hours since you heard from paige, you told kk and ice that you’d go see paige in the study hall. kk and ice were both protective of you, disagreeing that you would go alone.

the moment you arrive there, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed? jealous? upset?

paige was laughing around, smiling, and feeling giggly with her groupmate, kate.

you never really knew kate, except for the fact that she’s a bitchy flirt. everytime she saw you and paige, she would greet paige with such a big smile. and as for you, she’d just give you a small smile.

even kk and ice were irritated, they knew about kate and her asshead moves. they knew that you hated her guts.

the three of you were a few meters away from their table, one of their groupmates noticed. paige looked back to see the three of you with a smile full of sarcasm.

kk started clapping, earning questionable looks from the group.

“wow, okay paige.” you tell her, sparing her nothing and leaving with ice and kk.

you all decided to go for a chick-fil-a run, after being so fueled up by the view earlier.

“man, what was that? ain’t cool at all bro.”

“paige didn’t even do anything, thats just not funny.”

ice and kk grumbles around about what they saw, and you knew they were mad. it’s not funny if they’re pissed.

“i understand the fact that i’m not aware of what goes around in the senior community, but seriously dude? paige knows i don’t like her.”

all of you arrive back at the dorm, and the first face you guys see is paige’s face. kk gives her a disapproving look, ice lays a hand on paige’s shoulder, telling her to “man up.” before they go to their own rooms.

before paige even speaks, you tell her first.

“look, i understand that i’m not on the same year level as you. we have different communities, but seriously paige? you KNOW that i don’t like her. i get that you’re groupmates but really dude? do you have to entertain her every second? did you even get any work done?”

paige stays silent, a look of guilt on her face.

“i know that you don’t like her, i do my best not to get entertained by her, but i don’t want people to speculate. i don’t want any issues going around, you know i hate that.”

you don’t say anything to her, you left their dorm, going to your apartment.

you didn’t wanna see her right now, especially when thats all she responded with.

its 9pm now, you were in bed, scrolling through tiktok. you heard your door open, wondering who it was. your mom, paige, and ice had the keys to your door. you got up, went to the living room to be greeted with paige. paige had a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

you can’t deny, she looked hot. a low messy bun suits her so much (i’m a sucker for that).

“oh hi. why are you here? its late, paige.”

“i shouldn’t have entertained her, and importantly, i shouldn’t care about what people say. i promise it won’t happen again, i won’t entertain her anymore. i’m sorry, baby. i really am.”

you pause for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. your anger from earlier was still lingering around, you won’t just fully forgive her.

“yea, okay. you can sleep here tonight, its late anyway.”

you head into your bedroom, getting comfy under the comforter. you feel the other side of the bed being filled up with your girlfriends scent.

your back was facing her, you didn’t bother moving one bit. you were falling asleep.

paige was still up, scrolling through her phone. she couldn’t sleep at all, knowing that you weren’t in your best mood just yet. it was already 2am.

you woke up from music coming out of paige’s phone. she must be watching tiktok. you turn to face her, still half asleep.

“love, go to sleep. its so late” you mumble, wrapping your arms around her waist as you fall back asleep.

paige turns her phone off, laying down properly so that she could hold you in your arms.

“i love you always, baby.”

she whispers, kissing your forehead.

[artdnldsn]

gestalt therapy

college professor!art donaldson x fem reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, swearing, student!reader, age gap, porn w/ a little plot, head (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight degradation (question mark?), one mention of "daddy"

synopsis: you're done with your senior year at college, and all you want is a parting gift.

a/n: my first full fic here wow my first ever smut WOW the only thing that's not a first here is english because it's my second language so be patient pookies. college prof au has been haunting me for days so i needed to get it out. even though i have no fucking idea how colleges work in the us ;) hope you like it! happy reading

The first thing he notices about you is how ridiculously smart you are.

It's not even a stretch or him trying to justify the instant attraction he feels towards you. No, you're genuinely, undeniably brilliant, especially for your age. You've got this way with words, and concepts come to you so easily. You pick up on all his lead-ups to lecture topics, knowing exactly what the main conversation will be about a good five minutes before the rest of the class. You smile smugly, crossing your arms and leaning back, your eyes seeking his because you want him to know that you know.

And honestly, he'd be mad at you for being so smug if you weren't so damn smart.

The way you walk up to him after class to discuss your latest essay, your stance confident and voice sure, as you argue over why you deserved a 100 and not a 98. He's looking at your essay, then at you, then back at his computer screen, squinting just to appear like he's thinking it over, but he knows you're right; of course you are. Your essay is perfect. He was just being a dick about it, nitpicking because he couldn't admit you're basically flawless.

He's getting self-conscious about his teaching. There's nothing he can teach you—you come so prepared for every class that he wonders if you even have a life outside his classroom. Maybe your brain just works like that, but a small, selfish part of him hopes you spend hours prepping for his classes. The thought that you do it for him and not the subject is a nice one, but he shoves it away.

At least that way, it wouldn't be as pathetic for him to spend nights rewriting his lectures, perfecting his presentations to the point where he's sitting in his bed at 3 AM, pondering whether Times New Roman or Arial would make his point come across better.

He's always been a perfectionist, living by the book, striving not for greatness but for the reserved maximum of his natural capabilities. He never really pushed himself. But you—oh, fuck, you. Fuck you. You make him want to lose sleep just to prove to you or himself that he's certainly smarter than some college senior.

He calls you a lot of things in his head. A know-it-all, an "excuse me" because you're always "excuse me"-ing him like he doesn't have a name, a smartass, a bitch—he hates when he's in a mood like this last one because it signals it's time to sleep. You're a lot of things, but you're not stupid.

In fact, he starts wondering if you're a once-in-a-lifetime talent. Because he's rather young for a professor, he hasn't seen as many students as his colleagues, who always crack up anecdotes about past students, someone who graduated 15, 30 years ago, but the older professors still remember them. He wonders if he's going to remember you like that. He's pretty sure he will.

He's never even thought about you as a woman and not just his student. He's just respectful like that. Sure, you were hot, which only added to your confident allure. He's not blind—hell, he'd admit it if he had to—but he's never thought about you like that.

But apparently, you have about him.

You appear at his office doorstep minutes before he's about to clock out for the night. You're looking pristine as always, and with your silhouette illuminated by the office's dim lights, he wonders for a second if you're even human with your endless drive, brilliant mind, and hair that always looks like it's animated because it's impossible for real human hair to flow that perfectly.

"Good evening," he greets you, eyebrows creasing slightly in confusion. You've never visited, your final grades are in, and you're graduating in a week. He's already said his goodbyes to your class, and when he did, you shot him a little smile that he read as everything being good between you. What are you doing here then? "Can I help—"

“Are you impotent?” you cut him off, arms crossed, a challenging look in your eyes.

He actually chokes on air. “E-excuse me?” he mutters under his breath, his expression shocked, his voice strained. God, he’s ridiculed you for years in his head for addressing him like that, and here he is now.

You turn your back to him, lock the door, and make your way to his desk in confident steps. You sit on the edge of his desk, looking at him over your shoulder. "I asked if you're impotent," you shrug, arching your eyebrow.

“No,” he blurts out, his expression still one of pure horror as he doesn’t know where to keep his gaze, his eyes darting between the papers on his desk, and his computer screen, and his hands, anywhere but you. “God, no.”

“Why you never fucked me, then?” you ask, your tone still almost accusatory, but your voice soft. It’s almost like there is a hint of genuine regret in your words, and he doubts his sanity right now, wonders if he’s imagining things. He pinches his thigh under the desk, just to make sure.

“What do you mean, why?” he stutters, his cheeks flushed. “B-because.” Oh, God, it’s really bad. He’s really speechless, his mind unable to conjure up a full sentence. “Because you’re my student, and I respect you, and there are boundaries that shouldn’t be—“

“I’m not your student anymore. Not technically.” Your tone is matter-of-fact, one he’s too familiar with. One you’ve used to tell him about all the typos in his handouts, all the mistakes in his tests, all the times he’s fucked up grading someone’s papers. Only now you’re telling him… Fuck, he really can’t grasp what it is you’re telling him.

“I can’t argue with that, but I really don’t understand the point of this conversation. You’re completely out of—“

“Consider it gestalt therapy,” you shrug nonchalantly. He’s getting mad, really, with you cutting him off like that, like you’re getting back at him for years of having to listen to his lectures without having an opportunity to talk over him. It takes him a second to grasp what you’re implying. He clears his throat.

You sigh, letting your arms drop to your sides, sliding off the desk, walking up to him in these fucking deliberate strides, spinning him in his chair so he faces you, his hands lifted up in the air as if he is surrendering. He doesn’t know to what, exactly.

“Just really have to get this out of my system, Mr. Donaldson,” you sigh almost guilty, your gaze landing on his lap. He's hard, his cock straining the fabric of his trousers. Of course he is, what the fuck?

You cup him, eliciting a soft sigh from his lips, his eyes falling shut. You start stroking him through the fabric, confidently like everything you do. It makes his blood boil. You’re such a bitch. A know-it-all. A smart-ass. And so, so hot that he can’t bring himself not to kinda wish you’re intending to fuck his brains out.

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe a weak protest to give you a final out, but you lean down, pressing your lips to his in a languid, deep kiss, a thorough exploratory one like every single one of your fucking essays has ever been.

You move to his lap, straddling him, the chair creaking under your combined weight. Only when his hands move to your hips does he understand you’re wearing a skirt. God, he hasn’t even noticed that. He lets his hands stay there, caressing your bare thighs as your skirt rides up, and you lean in for another kiss.

There's no raw hunger. If anything, he’s sure he’s incapable of it in this situation, his mind still trying to catch up, trying to relabel you as not forbidden. You’re grinding against his growing erection, tugging at his hair as you deepen the kiss, your curves so unexpectedly perfect against him.

He only realizes you’re working on his belt and zipper when he hears them. Instinctively, he moves his hands to your wrists to stop you, but you just shake them away like you’ve shrugged him off all these years. He gasps into your mouth as you wrap your hand around his freed cock, stroking the length expertly, thoroughly, meticulously, as your lips never leave his. He actually relaxes into the chair, his hands gripping your waist, tugging your top up to reveal more bare skin.

No bra. Of course you didn’t wear any. You’ve come prepared as always.

You chuckle quietly, your lips continuing to move in unison with his, finding a lazy rhythm that drives you both insane. He reads this chuckle as you being amused at him taking any initiative. It makes his blood boil.

He breaks the kiss, one hand squeezing your breast firmly as he leans down, capturing your left nipple between his lips, sucking gently before biting. His other hand lands on your ass with a loud smack, making you gasp. Finally, some reaction.

He starts bucking into your hand, seeking more friction, moving his mouth to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, leaving a bite mark on the side, making you wince but moan. That moan—fuck, that beautiful sound. Now he’s angrier at himself than you are at him for not having fucked you sooner.

He understands you were expecting to ride him, like he’s some sexless creature, a toy to use, a dick attached to a fantasy that has nothing to do with the man he is, and it makes him even madder. He’s always admired your insightfulness, your capability to get right to the gist of things through walls of useless shit, but he’s feeling his respect for you slipping as he understands just how wrong you must’ve been about him in your head.

He peels himself off your chest, lips glistening with saliva, smacking your ass again, harder this time, groping both cheeks as he lifts you off his lap to sit you on his desk over the papers he’s grading. He’ll just tell everyone he spilled a drink. No one will miss them.

His lips find yours again in a searing hot kiss. It’s messy, all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s not. Of course not. It’s just that something dormant is being woken up in him. You whimper as he cups your mound through your panties, making him chuckle. Well, look who’s laughing now.

"You've seriously dreamt about this?" he whispers against your jaw, his long fingers sliding into your underwear, finding your slickness. Fuck, you're so wet for him, it almost makes him black out. "Wanted me to fuck you on this desk? Or the one in the classroom? Or in the library? Or right in the fucking hall, huh? Why not? Let everyone watch." His tone is almost taunting, his every word accompanied by a painfully slow and teasing circle of his thumb over your swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes," you mutter, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressing against his shoulder, hips bucking helplessly into his hand, seeking friction. It’s not clear if you’re answering his questions or begging him to go faster. It doesn’t matter; his smirk is already in place, his eyes glistening with amusement as he looks down at you, breathing hard through his nose.

"Yes, what?" he chuckles, shrugging, his eyes scanning every reaction on your face. The way your head falls back, your lower lip caught between your teeth, your cheeks flushed. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, what?" he murmurs softly, his hand in your panties slowing down to the point of stopping.

A groan of disappointment escapes your lips as you snap your head back up, eyes darting open. He can see your pupils blown wide even in the dim light, the lamp on his desk illuminating you from behind like a renaissance painting. "Yes, fuck me," you say dryly, like it’s obvious, still seeing him as some pathetic, stupid nobody, but you’re slightly out of breath when you say it, so that’s a win in his book for now.

Just means he’s gotta try harder.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place. He’s standing between your legs, keeping them spread wide for him. He pulls his hand out of your panties to bring it to your face, shoving two fingers into your pretty smartass mouth. Your eyebrows crease, eyes falling shut at the action, a hum leaving your lips, vibrating through his skin, but you still suck on them obediently, tasting yourself on his fingers and coating them in your saliva.

He slips one finger right inside you when it makes its way back down. He starts thrusting it into you at a steady rhythm, his lips finding your neck, nibbling on it, his teeth grazing your delicate skin, tongue sliding over the little marks his teeth leave there, as he curls his finger inside you, thrusting deeper, deeper, almost aggressively.

"God, I really thought you were smart," he mutters under his breath, hot against your skin as he adds another finger and starts stretching you, eliciting a soft moan from you. He leans down, sucking on your tits again, noticing how hard your nipples are now, almost painfully so, matching the way his dick is rock hard, still standing at full attention against his clothed abdomen. "Thought you were different. Hard-working. Proper." He sinks onto his knees in front of you, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes you can’t quite read. "Turns out you’re just a slut."

He tugs your panties down, his tongue finding your cunt, one of his hands moving to throw your leg over his shoulder, keeping it there tightly as the fingers of his other hand re-enter your cunt, starting to finger it at the same urgent pace, his tongue moving feverishly over your clit, making you moan quietly because, yes, there are still people in the building, you have to keep quiet, but a part of him, the one you’ve awoken, wishes the circumstances were different, that he could hear you scream for him.

He’s getting high off the taste of your juices, off the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils, his nose pressed into your pelvis as he fucks you with his fingers in a relentless rhythm, curling his fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench down onto him, searching for that sweet spot that’s going to make your toes curl.

“Tell me,” he rasps out, pulling away from your cunt just for enough time to say what he needs to say, peppering your inner thigh with kisses in the meantime. “Tell me exactly how long you’ve wanted this. And how you wanted me to fuck you. Leave no details out.”

You whimper when he delves back onto your clit, sucking on it, not caring to keep his teeth from grazing your sensitive skin here and there, but it’s a good feeling.

“S-since that lecture. Sophomore year,” you breathe out, you throat tight from holding back so many moans that are begging to be let out. Your mouth falls open in a silent ‘oh’ as he sucks your whole clit in, lapping at it with his tongue inside his wet hot mouth, your hand snapping instinctively onto his head, gripping his hair to pin yourself down to the reality. “You wore that slutty turtleneck, and of course I’ve thought you���re hot, but then you had one wrong date in your presentation, and I got so fucking mad at you. Thought you’re too careless to teach.”

He hums against your cunt, encouraging you to go on, or agreeing with your point, he can’t tell himself anymore. He’s completely gone at this point, drinking your juices like he’s drinking in your words. Amidst all this, he actually appreciates you not calling him stupid. You might’ve, but you didn’t.

“And you were always s-so passive, like I tried arguing with you, reading all that shit instead of going out just to get a rile out of you, and you never fucking bucked. I-I-I—“ you stutter, your mind going into overdrive for a second as he continues abusing your g-spot, his fingers moving at a frantic speed in and out, in and out. He smacks your thigh to get your attention back on the topic. “I just couldn’t fucking believe you. I was being a bitch, I was nagging you, just because. And you didn’t even care.”

He smiles into your cunt, a huff of air leaving his nose. At last, you admit it. He suddenly doesn’t feel bad at all for calling you a bitch in his head. He can feel your walls contracting around his fingers, your breathing irregular, you’re practically panting, your grip in his hair tightening as you guide him closer, rolling your hips against his tongue and fingers, seeking release. You’re close.

He pulls away, earning another cuss and another groan of disappointment off your lips. He smacks your thigh again, hard, the action leaving a red print of his big palm on your skin. “You didn’t answer,” he rasps out, delving back into you. Fucking students, he thinks to himself. Always so smart, thinking they know it all, and always forgetting to answer the second part of the question after they’re done answering the first.

Your mind is so hazy at this point, it takes you an effort to rewind the interaction in your head to understand what he means. “L-like this,” you whimper, your thighs trembling as he grips the one that’s not on his shoulder to stop it from shaking too much, keeping you in place. “I-I didn’t want you to be nice. You’re always so fucking nice, it’s not human, I knew it wasn’t true.”

He’s too set on making you cum to chuckle now, although it is pretty funny. He’s been doubting you’re human, too, but the way you gasp for air, trying desperately to hold back your moans as he feels you coming closer and closer to release, it tells him all that he needs to know. You’re just flesh and bones, not the perfect genius he’s painted you to be in his mind.

“Fuck!” you whimper, giving his hair one last tug before your hand springs up to cover your mouth, biting into your index finger to keep yourself quiet. It takes one slide of his fingers, one roll of his tongue, five seconds, and your muscles go taught as your hips buck off the desk, his pens in the glass standing on the edge of it clattering against each other, the keyboard of his computer flying up for a split second from impact of your ass slamming back down onto the desk. It’s like a mini-earthquake, that’s left your world erupt into white behind your closed eyelids.

He fingers you through it, lapping his tongue over your clit until you wince quietly from it hurting, and he pulls away reluctantly, standing up from the floor to stand in between your legs again. His neck and back hurt like hell from crouching down on the floor for so long, his muscles are not what they used to be, after all, and for a split second he considers actually giving up and letting you ride him, but it would be your win in his book, and he can’t allow that.

He spits on his hand before he leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding back into your mouth, letting you taste yourself once again, as he brings his hand down to stroke himself, breathing softly out of his nose at the relief of some friction, finally. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he murmurs into your lips, softly, almost lovingly, the same fucking slightly condescending tone he’s always used in his classroom.

You open your mouth to ask what the fuck he means, but he pushes his tongue back into your mouth, all thoughts of a protest evaporating from your mind. You slide closer to the edge of the desk instinctively to accommodate him when he eventually pushes into you. You almost can’t wait.

He gropes your ass to position you like he wants you, his fingers digging into your plump skin maybe a little too hard. You don’t protest. He breathes heavily, like it’s physically paining him to hold back any second longer — it does,—and his brows are furrowed in concentration while he slides his tip over your clit, coating it with your slickness, the same way he frowns when he’s grading papers or goes over tomorrow’s lecture in his head.

He pushes inside in one determined thrust, piercing through you, a quiet grunt escaping his lips, a soft moan escaping yours. Before you have any time to adjust, he starts pounding his hips into yours, one of his arms hooked around your torso to keep you in place as his free hand flies to your chest, squeezing your right tit roughly, pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, making it harden again.

“Careless?” he scoffs, an expression of pure disbelief on his face at the fact you’ve even dared to say that. He grunts again, his hand falling from your breast to your hip, gripping it firmly as he continues pounding into you, your breathing quickening again. He’s rather big, and it hurts a little from you still being sore from your orgasm, but you still moan softly under your nose, your wrists hurting from you leaning on the desk behind your back for so long.

“You call me careless for a typo in a presentation I made six years ago, and it’s not careless for you to come here, asking me if I’m impotent? Fuck you,” he grunts again, a grin pulling on his lips as he throws his head back, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. You’re squeezing his cock so tightly, there’s no way in hell you’re ever going to be asking him or yourself that question again.

He lets go of you, reaching behind your back to pull on your wrists, tugging them further to himself, which makes you fall back on the desk. “Fuck you,” he repeats, his words almost sounding like a moan now as he holds your wrists near your stomach, basically transfixing you. He moves one of his hands up to throw your leg over his shoulder again, another continuing holding your wrists down, as you both groan quietly at the change of the angle, the new one allowing for him to go so deep he’s touching parts of you you didn’t know existed.

“So, you wanted me to be a good teacher and a good dick all at the same time?” he muses, a smirk pulling on his lips again as he looks down onto your dishevelled form, your tits bouncing out of your tugged-down top, you skirt ridden up to your waist, your fucking face, so unbearably beautiful, flushed and your lips swollen from his kisses and from you biting on them so much. He can’t fucking get enough of how silent you are now after running your mouth at him for all these years. “Did you want me to be your boyfriend, too?” he chuckles, shaking his head, his expression faltering as he picks up the rhythm for a good minute, pounding into you so hard all the items on the desk are clattering, and you have to bite on your lips again not to scream from him practically tearing you apart, because you can’t cover your mouth anymore with your wrists held by him.

“Daddy never loved you, right?” He understands he’s probably taunting you too much, his words almost feeling cruel, but he’s too far gone at this point, he’s making a forceful effort to continue looking down at you to imprint the way you look right now into his memory to revisit later, even though his eyes are almost rolling back from just how good your cunt takes him. “That’s why you’ve been pining for my dick for fucking three years? Are you getting what you wanted?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper weakly. Yes to all that, actually, but he doesn’t need to know that. He feels too good, filling you up to the brim, you can almost feel him in your guts, he’s making your toes curl. And he’s finally not acting nice. Just like you wanted him to.

“Good,” he growls, letting go of you for a second before his hands find the undersides of your knees, bringing them close to your chest, changing the angle again as he starts hammering down into you, the room filled with the sound of your shared ragged breaths, the desk creaking under you and the sound of his pelvis slapping against yours. “Fu-uck, you’re taking me so good, none of your schoolwork was ever that good,” he’s lying through his teeth. Not about the sex — you’re taking it like a champ—but about your schoolwork. It was, indeed, that good.

He basically has no power left over what words leave his mouth, he’s completely drunk on you, the taste of your cunt and your mouth still lingering on his tongue. “Are you gonna come again?” he pants out, slowing down, feeling your walls clenching down on him, squeezing him tight.

“Y-yeah,” you mutter, fluttering your eyes open to look at him from under your eyelashes, but you can pretty much only make out his silhouette with how hazy your vision has become with just how good he’s fucking you. “I knew,” you repeat, your throat feeling tight again, your head falling back on the desk as you bring your now free hands to your mouth, covering it to muffle out the scream you know is there, brewing, destined to roll of your lips when he drives you to release again.

“You—“ he starts in disbelief, but he’s getting closer, too, there’s no point in arguing now. He just can’t fucking believe the nerve on you. What do you mean, you knew? Knew he could fuck you like you wanted to? Knew you would be walking out of here with a limp? Such a know-it-all, always thinking she’s two steps ahead everybody else.

He sighs shakily, a broken, needy sound as he brings his hand in between your legs, finding your clit again, his other hand still holding your knees pressed to your chest. He rubs at you in sync with the thrusts of his hips, his pace picking up, up, and up, until he finally lets out a low grunt, stilling, slipping out of you as he watches you bite on your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks as he feels your pussy convulsing under his fingers, another orgasm hitting you, and in a matter of seconds, after a few fast strokes, he comes, too, thick ropes of his seed landing all over your stomach and knees, and some of it lands on your chin.

For a few seconds, he just stands there, catching his breath, watching over you. He opens his desk drawer, pulls out a tissue pack, and wipes himself before doing the same for you. You're still lying there, face hidden in your hands, your outfit a mess. He's already caught you crying and knows you might feel awkward doing it in front of him, so he just makes sure you're clean for when you leave.

He tucks himself back into his trousers, fastens his belt, and walks to the other side of his office. You hear him rustling around while you try to get your breath back and keep your emotions in check. His soft footsteps approach the desk again, and you feel him gently patting your knee. You open your eyes to see him holding out a cup of water—a peace offering or an apology. But you know he doesn't owe you either. He just gave you everything you've wanted for the last three years. And he even brought you fucking water. Because he's disgustingly nice like that.

You nod in gratitude, sit up, and take the plastic cup from his hand, downing it in one gulp. It actually brings some life back to you. You breathe out shakily, fix your top, and tuck your tits back in before sliding off the desk. Your shoes land softly on the floor, your legs still trembling, your knees feeling like they'll give out any moment. You tug your skirt down and sheepishly meet his gaze, unsure where to go from here.

He steps closer and brings his hands up to your face to fix your hair. His eyebrows furrow in concentration again as he smooths it down, making sure you don't look disheveled when you walk out of here.

He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides, and keeps looking at your face as if making sure you're not just looking okay but are okay too. “I didn’t mean that. The ‘fuck you’. And the ‘slut’ comment. Well, I kinda did,” he shrugs, averting his gaze with a humorless chuckle, “but I didn’t.”

You punch the air out of his lungs as you pounce on him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. It takes him a second to gather himself, but he hesitantly hugs you back, just letting his hands rest on your lower back as you nuzzle your nose into his chest.

You had to get it out of your system, but now that it's in, you feel like you’ll never get enough. He feels like a beacon, one he's always been for you. The guy you picked a rivalry with your first week of sophomore year just to push yourself harder, to strive for greatness. He wasn’t even aware there was a rivalry to begin with. He's an academic, though, they’re all fucked up in the head, he must understand a part of it, at least.

And he understands. Truly. He just hopes you won’t start crying again, because he doesn’t know how he'd handle that. He pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes, cupping your face in his hands, and plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You’re a smart girl,” he says, his voice low, the small, friendly smile on his lips sincere, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he looks down at you. “You’ll figure it out. I don’t doubt it.”

He had this whole speech prepared for the class about how adult life is going to treat them, the challenges they'll face, how scary it’ll be, but also insanely rewarding. It was long, sentimental, with a few jokes thrown in. Some girls cried, but it was all bullshit. What’s real is this. Him understanding your fears without you having to voice them. Him telling you you’ve got this.

“And until you do, you always know where to find me,” he nods to the side, obviously meaning his office, a lopsided smirk making him look a good decade younger. His gaze finds yours again, and he pulls you into another tight hug, one he initiates this time.

In his mind, he’s already thinking how long it would be appropriate to wait before he can invite you for a coffee.

[withjaejae]

Hole-in-one | JJK

A day of golf goes better than expected despite being ditched by your bestfriend and spending the afternoon with your so-called rival.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

High society of sorts, Richie Rich type of wealth.

Warnings: Oral (m/f), sexual jokes, dig bick Jk, playful banter, unprotected sex, squirting, throat fucking, sexual tension, one-shot. (Did I miss something?)

A/N: I wanted to write more but I thought it ended ok. My knowledge on golf is based on Wii which I stopped playing a long time ago. So bear with me.

I have no way to know how long but enjoy.

++++++

You groan in frustration as you read Namjoon's text saying he left with the girl he met at the club lobby.

It was a nice sunny afternoon, perfect for golf. At least Namjoon was gonna fill holes either way and that irks you the most. He's had women, left and right, while you struggled with your types.

All you want was a man who shared the same things you like. Golf was your thing, Namjoon came for the women who thought they were stealing him from you. When in fact, Namjoon was your cousin/best friend.

"Alone today?" The attendant, Jean, always met you with a smile and your golf clubs.

"Yeah, unfortunately my cousin can't last a second without a mouth around his dick." Her face flushed a deep crimson. "No offense." Yup, she and Namjoon did it too.

"None taken, I'm over it." She shrugs and grabs the golf kart key from the shelf. "Shall we?"

"I think I wanna go solo today, Jean. Thanks." You take the key from her and she nods. She knows better than to say no to you.

Your custom lavender colored Kart waited for you, your initials in mettalic purple on the front. It was parked next to several other custom karts.

You arrived at your first course. A man was already standing there, setting up his own stuff. No caddie in sight, you notice his arms and very much know who he is. You look at the deep purple colored kart next to yours.

"No girls to fuck on this fine afternoon, Jeon?" You smirk as you step out of your kart.

He stands up straight at the sound of your voice, he doesn't need to turn around to know its you.

"I wondered why the birds stopped singing." He continues to set up his tee. "No dicks to suck?" He quips.

"I don't fuck on the weekends." You're unfazed having been bantering like this for about a year now.

"Oh look, we do have things in common." He calls 'fore' before swinging his club.

You both watched as the ball lands near the hole. Out of respect you clap your hands, that was a good swing.

"Namjoon?" He finally turns to look at you, his eyes rake over your legs, your skirt is too short for golfing and your top hugged you so well he could outline your tits.

"Found a poor soul in the lobby before he could even touch some grass." You snort and pull out your own driver and ball.

He steps back, clearly you both could use the company even if it meant mean retorts.

You take position, he doesn't even try to be subtle about oggling at your ass.

You and Jungkook are neighbors but you studied abroad for middle school and highschool. Why you chose to come home for college, you're not sure. But you and Jungkook are in senior year now and you have common friend groups but not really that close until...

A year ago, you finally joined your parents to the Jeon's hunting weekend, it was an annual thing. It was going smoothly for the most part but when you and Jungkook shot the same boar at the same time, that's when the mean comments started. It was a rivalry of sorts, one trying to become better than the other.

Contrary to what he said earlier, you have too many things in common being raised in high society.

You see each other all the time at sport events and even charities but nothing beyond those events.

To be here with him, without anyone else is a first. You both won't admit that you've been crushing on each other but your society knows there's tension between you two.

"Nice ass." He comments just as you swing. Your ball landing a bit far from the hole.

"You did that on purpose." You frown at him, he was already smirking with that cute bunny looking face, his nose scrunched up.

"I did. Now look, looks like you need two more strokes to make it." He snorts as he walks towards his kart and you groan as you follow him.

"Title of your sex tape." You comment under your breath, he laughs.

You both drive down the path towards the hole.

You study the distance of your ball to the hole and his distance. You can make it in one, if you're lucky.

He lines himself up.

"Nice ass." You say back as he swings and it goes right in. You roll your eyes.

"Two strokes." He winks and moves to stand next to you. Shoulders touching, suddenly it feels warmer.

You stop to feel the wind, you work on your angle and with one stroke, it goes in too.

"Impressive." He claps his hands too and you made a little curtsy. "Never thought you'd be this good at golf."

"You see me here all the time. Doesn't that make sense?" You take both balls from the hole.

Instead of putting the ball in his palm, you make a bold move of standing in front of him while slipping both in his pockets.

"There, now you have a pair of balls." You look up at him, for a second his eyes darkened but the smirk was back.

He leans down, lips nearly touching. "YN, if you wanted to touch my balls, all you need to do is ask."

Your cheeks feel hot and it doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook. But you never back down.

"I thought you didn't have any." You lean closer, one more move and your lips would be touching.

"I can show you right now." Your face moves back. "All talk and no walk, a shame." He stands up straight. "But if you want it so badly. When I do a hole in one, you be my caddie. And if you do a hole in one, I'll fuck your brains out."

You snort but can't help feel the rush of wetness from between your folds.

"You say that like fucking you is a prize." You step away from him. "The only hole you'll get to fill today are on the course. But..." You flip your hair to the side, a mischievous glint in your eye. "If you wanted to, all you have to do is ask."

"Oh? Then, YN, can I fuck your brains out?" Oh, he's bold. You roll your eyes and walk back to your Kart.

He follows you, with a grin plastered on his face.

"Are you scared you might actually like it?" You scoff and look at him. Your heartrate suddenly spiking.

"I'm afraid I might get disappointed." You start to feel hot. Its only been one course, if you go back now. Jean will definitely say something.

"Oh baby, I could live up to your gold standard. I am gold standard." He's cocky and arrogant but god it would be a lie to say you're not turned on.

"See you at the next course, Jeon." Your kart starts backing up and he rushes to follow you again.

You both arrive at the same time, this time at a more difficult course.

"The next course we should do is intercourse." He hasn't even reached you yet and he's already teasing.

"Shut up before someone hears you." You forcefully stick your tee on the ground.

"Why? Its not like we're both kids, plus nobody is around." He looks around, the next group of golfers are a hectare away.

You sigh and face him again. He loves riling you up, it was just playful banter before and now that you've entered this kind of teasing, he loves your reactions.

"Okay." You declare. His grin ceasing a bit, his eyebrows raised. "I'll tee first, if I do a hole in one, you get on your knees and..."

"Beg for your forgiveness? Princess I don't beg." He smirks again, he licks his lip piercing.

You step even closer, your tits touching his chest and he loves the feeling. "No, I want the golden boy to get on his knees and show me what that mouth can do other than tease." His throat runs dry.

Shit. "Is that supposed to be a punishment? You'd probably beg for more once I'm done." He kicks his leg, hopefully to free some space in his pants for his growing boner.

You hum. "Another thing we have in common, I don't beg." Lie, you always beg in bed.

"Deal. But if I make a hole in one, you're the one getting on your knees." He's confident. Given your 'punishments' aren't really punishments. He'd love to eat you out, but he won't tell you that.

But you know this course, you've hit holes in ones in this. Yout heart is beating loudly almost clouding your senses. Jungkook has a permanent teasing smirk on his face you'd like to kiss off.

Out of all the places you could have teased each other into fucking, you didn't expect it to be at the golf course.

"Don't worry princess, I'll be gentle... At first." He chuckles.

You take a deep breath and swing. You both watched the ball as it flies over the field. You bit your lip at it lands an inch away and it falls right in. Your hands fly in the air cheering for yourself.

"Are you this excited to have me eat you?" He was standing directly behind you, his warmth and scent engulfing you. "My turn."

You step away and wink at him. He takes a deep breath and swings. You both watch as it takes the same speed and the same arch and his ball lands the exact same way yours did. A hole in one for the both of you.

He turns to you with a satisfied grin.

"I hope your throat is ready for me princess." Your nerves are going haywire at his voice. Did it get lower?

You quietly head to your kart, you nod to the side, gesturing him to follow you and you drive away.

The thing with this club house is, both your parents are partial owners, hence you have access to the many rooms the place offers if you asked.

Lucky for you, you already planned on staying the night since it was a free weekend.

You barely parked properly, tossing the key to the valet. You meet Jean and you ask for a room key, she eyes you then behind you, sure enough Jeon Jungkook was standing there, watching your ass again.

She hands you the key card. No more words exchanged between you, sexual tension builds in its wake.

You head to the elevator and head to the third floor. The suites.

Your breathing is starting to get ragged as you feel the fragile tension inside the elevator. Jungkoom just stood there, eyes forward, hands in his pockets. He refrains from moving since this place had security camers and your neighborhood would have a field day if you fucked in the club elevators.

But all he can hear is his heartbeat, all he can smell is you, and all he can feel is the tightness in his pants.

He follows you down the hall, and you swipe the key card. The moment the two of you cross the threshold and the door securely locked. You turn to face him and his hands are already on you, pulling your face into feverish kiss. You moan into the kiss as he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his torso.

He takes you to the couch. He grins into the kiss.

"What?" You pull away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

"I was thinking who should get their prize first." His hand was on your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip. You take it into your mouth and suck on it. "fuck." He mumbles and his breath gets caught in his throat.

"Since I'm being generous." You get off him and get on your knees in front of him. "Wouldn't want to keep my goldben boy waiting." The way you called him yours made his heart skip a beat.

It was a joint effort to take his pants off. What he didn't expect was for you to take your top off, a sexy lace bra underneath it. Usually, you wear a sports bra but you didn't feel like it today. Now you know why.

He's huge. Your wetness growing in your panties. Eager to have him, you take a hold of his base and rub his dick over your face.

You moan and finally take him into your mouth. He hisses and moans.

His fingers weave through your hair. The way you look up at him as you take him deeper almost made him cum. Fuck, for years you basically ignored each other despite everyone teasing you about ending up together since your parents were basically best friends, had you known that his dick would fit perfectly in your mouth.

You moan around him, the vibrations sending Jungkook into pure bliss.

"Keep going." His head was thrown back as he moans loudly. "So fucking needy." You took him deeper to show him how needy you can become.

He takes your hands and places them on his thigh. "Double tap if you can't take it." You nod knowing what he'd do next. He did say he'd be gentle at first.

He weaves both hands into your hair this time and fucked your throat. Your tears and drool flow freely, you look like a fucking porn star and Jungkook loves it. You're taking him so well he moans out loudly.

"I'm gonna fucking cum down your throat." He forces his words out and you simply take in his thrusts. With one last shove he shoots his load down your throat, you swallow around him. "Holy fucking shit, where the hell have you been all my life." His breathing was ragged as you pull off him, grinning like the slut you are. "Who knew that a princess like you loved to be treated like a whore, my whore."

He makes you stand up, you use your shirt to wipe off the drool, you avoid your tears that made makeup run down your cheeks, that's going to stain.

Jungkook kisses your pelvis as he rids you of your skort. The lace thong that matches your bra peek through and he's starting to get hard again.

He takes off his shirt and pulls you down for you to land over his shoulder. He stood up like you weigh nothing, you shriek and giggle at the way he's handling you.

He literally throws you onto the bed, but the way you landed seemed so graceful in Jungkook's eyes. So pretty, so delicate, like you were made of porcelain with the sex drive of a succubus.

His eyes were glassy, hazed from the mindblowing head he received. Crawling towards you as you scoot up to the headboard.

"Time for your prize princess." He uses his teeth to pull down your thong and expertly unclasping your bra.

"I better get my money's worth, Mr. Gold standard." He captures your lips in his before slowly kissing down on your skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head as he finds the sweet spot near your clavicle.

Your scent is addicting, what he'd give to get a taste of you everyday. He can make that happen, he will make that happen.

After all, high society is all about marrying each other to keep the weath from seeping out of your grasp. He's hypnotized by the way your chest rises and falls as he inches towards your needy pussy.

You've lost it the moment his tongue comes in contact with your folds. He wastes no time devouring you, you sound so good.

This is bad, so bad that he hasn't even fucked you properly and he already wants to marry you. Keep you close because nobody else should see what he's looking at right now.

His tongue works wonders, lips sucking on ever inch. You were chanting his name like it was a prayer. "Holy fuck baby." The petname sounds so nice coming from you.

It wasn't long until your moans become more high-pitched as you fuck yourself on his tongue. What threw you over the edge were the two fingers he inserted. You were squirting all over his face, your body shaking like a leaf.

"That was hot." He smirks up at you, putting both hands on your face as you tried to control your breathing. "You okay?" He moves up to hover over you, prying your hands away.

"I've never... I—I haven't..." Squirted but you can't seem to say it. Jungkook captures your lips again, you taste yourself.

"I'm honored, princess." He teases and you blush. How can he make you feel giddy when you literally just came all over his face.

Something inside you tell you that you'll never find another man who can make you feel like this, who can make you cum like that. No, you need this everyday.

"Jungkook." You reach down towards his erection. "I want you to fuck my brains out." Referring to your earlier conversations.

"Fuck yes baby." He dives in to kiss you with much more need than the previous one.

The tip of his head was rubbing against your opening, he was waiting for you to protest and ask him to wrap it up but you dig your heels on his ass instead.

"Fuck me." Your fingers scrape through his hair. "Please, baby." He chuckles.

"I thought you didn't beg?" He finally pushes in you, your mouth falls open but you don't make a sound other than a small squeak. "You're made for my cock. So fucking tight." He grunts.

You start begging him to go faster and harder, Jungkook happily obliges. With your thighs thrown over his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your throat, he could get used to this. You feel so good and he wasn't holding back from telling you what a good whore you are.

He lifts your ass up just a little hitting you at an angle you never knew felt so fucking good you're cumming again.

He fucks you, over and over. One orgasm after the other, you've lost count of how many. It wasn't until he spills his load all over your tits that he finally collapses next to you.

After care be damned, you both fall asleep in each other's arms covered in cum.

Your phones ring at the same time. 6pm sharp.

"Hey dad." He groans into the phone.

"Mom." You pick up your own phone.

Legs still tangled around each other as you both spoke to your parents. You both answer the same thing.

"Let me guess, dinner?" Jungkook tosses his phone on the night stand as you lay yours gently.

"Yeah, at your place." You mumble. "I think we passed out." You giggle.

"Fuck yeah we did." His bunny toothed smile. "Wanna shower together?"

With your body aching like crazy you decide to shower here. The warm bath helping you recover, of course you two fucked again.

He drops you off at your house before parking his car at their mansion next door. He waves at you as you both enter the house.

Your mom was standing by the window with a huge grin on her face.

"Did Jungkook drop you off? I though you weren't close like that?" She asks as you step up the stairs.

"Yeah, but we... We went golfing today. It was fun." You smile, and your mom simply nodded.

It was more than fun. It was definitely gold standard. The best hole in one you've had.

-----------

A/N: still debating if I should write a pt2

[robo-writing]

Hello! Love your Logan fics! If I could, could I ask for x-men trilogy Logan finding out what a hurricane shot is?(it’s where the guy takes a shot of alcohol and then a bartender (usually a really pretty woman that’s sitting on top the bar in front of the guy) splashes him with water and slaps him across the face. (really popular in the college towns in Florida) like scott mentions he had a hurricane shot when he was in high school during a senior trip to Florida and Logan asks what the hell that is. And his crush just goes “you don’t know what that is?! You drink booze for a living and you don’t know what that is???!” And precedes to just show him much to Scott laughing his ass off at seeing Logan getting drenched in water and slapped across the face, and Logan just fucking bewildered what the hell just happened and probably a bit horny (he got a pain kink, so getting slapped by his crush is like up his alley)

"The fuck is a hurricane shot?" Both you and scott's ears perk up, him being the first to express his surprise. "You've never heard of a hurricane shot?" "Am I suppose to?" He asks, getting just the slightest bit annoyed at how you two giggle between each other, some kind of secret language between the two of you.

“I’m just surprised is all,” you say, looking at him with mild amusement. “You’re the guy with his name tag on the barstool, so…”

“Real fuckin’ funny,” he huffs. “So what is it?”

You look up at him mischievously. “I think I’d rather just show you.”

Scott’s eyebrows go all the way up, a massive grin on his face. “Yeah, you should let her show you.”

You’re both snickering again and it almost makes him nervous. Almost.

“Sure, date and time?”

“Today, and now,” you say, running to the kitchen sink. You’re filling up a glass of water while Scott suddenly has his phone recording, more and more questions running through his head by the second.

“Okay, here’s your shot,” you say, sliding over a glass of rum. You’re holding a glass of water, looking down at it with barely contained excitement. “Do I have your permission?”

“Permission to what?”

“I can’t say.”

Logan’s feels his eye twitch. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise!” You reply, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. “It’s a yes or no Logan.”

He weights his options for a minute, figures that whatever you two’ve got planned he can kick your asses for it later, and with a shrug says—

“Fuck it, sure.”

You nod in his direction, eyes pointing to the glass, and with no theatrics he downs the entire thing in just one gulp. There’s nothing special about the shot, just the standard burn that accompanies it.

No, what’s special is what comes after.

The same moment the glass leaves his lips, the cup of water you were holding is thrown in his face. Before he can ask what the hell you’re doing, his face is whipped around.

You slapped him—rather hard, in fact. So unexpected he’s forced to stare off into nothing for a while before reality hits him.

He’s stood in shock, Scott laughing in the background while you complain about your sore hand. He’s drenched head to toe, still collecting his thoughts.

“What…was that?” He asks, hand reaching up to rub his cheek.

“That, my good friend, was a hurricane shot,” Scott replies, patting Logan on the back as he goes off to play his captured footage on loop. “Florida’s a wonderful place.”

You follow behind, chasing after Scott with a shout of “Lemme see!” Before the both of you disappear.

Logan’s stood in the kitchen by himself—and of everything that’s just happened to him, he can only conjure up a single thought.

That was really, really, hot.

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P49 | then don't fucking go

You were nervous to say the least. Parting with everyone else took a lot out of you, yes, but with Soyeon it was…going to absolutely break you. Back when you were still a highschool senior, Soyeon had been your foster mother up until you were officially a college student. In fact, you actually considered her a mother figure in your life.

It was why you pushed back this parting the most.

Soyeon arrived with your favorite drink and meal that wasn't even available as a menu for the cafe. How did she know you haven't eaten your lunch yet? It was already 3 p.m. Most people wouldn't have bothered serving them past 2 o’clock without being asked to first.

You didn't want to do this.

“How have you been?” Her gentle voice prodded your defenses, making your shoulders slump.

“...I'm managing, auntie.” You answered simply, prodding the food with a fork.

“I've met your brother, a wonderful young man, and I noticed your dimples resemble his. You're such a lucky girl, aren't you? Now that Yuno's back, you have three older brothers in your family. Geonwoo and Woojin already treat him like he's one of you.” Soyeon cooed, and her words made you pause, your fork in mid air above the meal.

You recovered though, resuming your meal.

“Haven't you heard? I've moved out of the condo, and they're not really talking to me now. I get the sense they don't even like me anymore.” In front of everyone, you could act like you didn't care.

But there were two people you couldn't stand lying to. You were capable of lying to them, but it would be a lousy job—because you're falling apart already.

Soyeon and your dad.

Her right hand reached across the table, holding your face delicately. You were sure Geonwoo had told her what you did to them, so why? Why was she still so fond of you? Why was she still so open with her love for you? You couldn't help it and focused your eyes on her, facing her directly. Her thumb stroked upon your face, at the distended cheeks, your mouth still full of food, and it made you swallow the contents of your mouth. She looked so heartbroken over you.

“You don't get to push me away, Y/N. I'll forever be your mother for as long as I live—and as long as I'm still your mother, those boys will always be your brothers.” As she looked at your face more clearly, she noted there were attempts in veiling just how tired you are; with the heavy concealer to cover up your eyebags, your hair seeming thinner than usual—and your face seeming more gaunt than before.

“What's wrong, sweetie? Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to push us away? Did we do something wrong? Why aren't you coming to the party tonight?” At her onslaught of questions, you finally broke down, dropping down the cutleries so your hands could cover your face, to shield her from the tears you were shedding.

Your locket felt heavier than usual, and there was phantom pressure on your nape, as if reminding you that Yoonsu was always watching over you.

“No, it's me. I'm the wrong one, but I can't help it, auntie. Junyoung, he’s my whole world, he had been my rock—and now he's lonely, so he needs me more than ever. I have to be there for him, always. So it's not like I want to push you away, but I can't be apart from him.” You sobbed, placing your hands on the table so she could hold on to it.

“Then what about your brothers, Y/N? What about your other friends? I don't care for how long you'll go without talking to me, because I'm your mother no matter what—but they—friends and siblings can be a little more selfish than a parent. They want you around, always, so they know that they're your needed person too. So what about them, sweetie?” She asked you without the accusatory tone. She was just worried for you, and her genuine concern broke your heart even harder.

“You said it yourself, they're a little more selfish than you'll ever be, but I've made my peace. I don't blame them, and I don't want to bother them anymore. The damage is done.” You sobered up a little bit, taking a sip of your drink.

You saw how Soyeon deflated, and that's when you knew the damage done had turned irreparable. Now even she believed you wanted nothing to do with them anymore so you could completely become Yoonsu's sole needed person, but it still hurt. You'd always need them, you were always yearning for them, but Yoonsu would never allow you to let anyone in your life hope for your return. Unfortunately for you, that included the woman you could shamelessly call your mother.

But this was only making your vendetta against Yoonsu stronger, and you needed this. You needed the drive in making this revenge work.

“Take care of Yuno for me. It's been a long time since he had a mother figure in his life, and tell him I'm happy for him. Bye, mom.” You spoke rather quietly, before getting up from the table and abruptly leaving the cafe.

As you walked down the street, you realised you had finally cut off the last person in your life that still hoped for your return.

Now you're finally all alone.

Then your blood ran cold.

You're finally alone now.

There's only one last step left in Yoonsu's plan for you.

To kill you.

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : :))))) triple update complete!

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [CLOSED]

@spiderm444rk @morkiee @xiuriii @solvrse @neozon3nha @herebyaccident0 @injunnie-lemon @mystverse @dearmonamour @v-6893 @sehunniepot @bee-the-loser @nessaassen02 @luluvhs @sunghoonsgfreal @docilismo @neocrashed @soobinbunnie5 @cigarettesafterjae @dudekiss3r @kittydollzz @urlocalbeaner5 @polarisjisung @conwunder @wonupuppy @jae-n0 @413ktz @kimsaerom @meowtella @aerivrs @swanyvess @morkleesgirl @sthwaaberry @nominzn @grassbutneo @spicyryujin @koizekomi @sunflowerhae @markeroolee

[sohnric]

distraction, a fatal attraction – l. chan

pairing: lee chan x fem! reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, college au, fluff. a weird kind of situationship between yn and dino, drunk dino because svt can't stop mentioning his excessive drinking which is so university student of him and i headcanon him as my drinking buddy.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of throwing up, smoking

word count: 7k

a/n: started writing this literally last may. it's now february and i finally finished it after rewriting it like three times... anyways idk how many more svt fics i'll post in the future but i had to get this out in the open lmaoo. as always thank u beloved @csenke for beta reading despite not even being a svt stan <3

You and Lee Chan seem to have the same clubbing tendencies. That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so. (Or - you and Lee Chan have kissed a concerning amout of times before he finally asks for permisson.)

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks you one March evening and you don’t know why exactly you find yourself so surprised. 

By default, it’s only natural for the boy to ask– the two of you aren’t dating, not even close to that, you’d say– and while you wouldn’t really mind if he kissed you without giving you a warning and swooped you off your feet on the stairs leading up to your dormitory building (for you found yourself a little too lightheaded and on the edge of your seat whenever he’s around lately, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only further proving your assumptions– you have a silly, little crush on the male), you must admit that him asking for permission is quite nice. Surprising, but nice. 

One might think you’re surprised because there was nothing that could lead you to this scenario– one might think you and Lee Chan were nothing but friends, not even close ones, per se (you just have a group of mutual friends that somehow always brought you two together when either one of you got excluded out of their conversations, ending up as each other’s, although pleasant, last resort). One might even think the two of you are hanging out alone for the first time together, which isn’t that far away from the truth in the first place, but still, is a blatant lie. What’s so surprising about the question to you, then?

The fact that this isn’t the first time you and Lee Chan would be kissing, and the sheer fact leaves you wondering if he’s forgotten, or if he never really remembered in the first place.

You and Chan have kissed…. an embarrassing amount of times for people that aren’t dating, or anywhere close to the said establishment. The circumstances of said kisses differ from time to time, and while you thought that they were meaningless at first, you must admit that as time went by, you selfishly and almost a little pathetically looked forward to each and every time where a similar situation might occur and his lips would end up on yours again.

The first time you and Chan kissed was also the first time you two met. It’s a strange sentence to use when describing a story about your first kiss with someone that you’re currently (hopefully) on a date with, but it’s the one you have to use, because it’s true.

The group you walked into the club with on the first day of orientation during your freshman year of college consisted of all your upperclassmen friends– the girls you had met in high school and didn’t fail to keep in contact with: Lee Chaeryeong, Kim Minjeong and Huh Yunjin. You would trust these three girls with your whole entire life, and so when they had told you that they could show you around the campus and let you in on all the secrets you only learn with months of attending college, you felt like you just won the lottery. 

After the cheerful senior Choi Soobin walked your humongous group through the campus and showed all of your classmates the fundamental parts of the college building (the gym, the labs and most importantly, the cafeteria), he invited you all to the open semester party in the club just a few minutes away from the campus. And yes, the party was originally supposed to be mainly for the freshmen, but as soon as you texted your friends to let them know about your whereabouts, they announced to you that there is no way you were going back to your dorm room so quickly– the whole campus was supposed to be on that party, and that’s exactly why you were forced to stay.

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Chaeryeong asks you as you start swinging your hips to the rhythm of the music, the DJ surprisingly not as bad as you expected him to be from the reviews you heard from the girls when standing in the queue leading towards the club.

“The music isn’t as bad as you said it will be,” you yell over the music into your friend’s ear, having her roll her eyes and shake her head at you in disbelief.

“I meant the campus, not the club, you silly goose,” she clarifies, making you gasp at the sentence.

“Oh!” you laugh. “Well, I’m less frightened, that’s for sure.”

“That’s gonna come back to you once the exam season starts,” Chaeryeong notes, snickering. The comment is slightly terrifying– therefore you choose to ignore it and stick it somewhere to the back of your brain to come back to when the time is right and your anxiety is no longer a far-away thing, but a very present and real issue.

“Ah! I see Mingyu there!” she suddenly screams, pointing somewhere behind you. “I’m gonna go talk to him, can you try finding our table and going back to Minjeong and Yunjin?”

“I’ll be fine,” you nodded, trying to believe the sentence just as much as you were trying to convince your friend of it. The place was filled with people, and although you didn’t feel particularly in danger, you were getting a little scared of getting walked over to death in the wave of the drunk upperclassmen enjoying themselves in the club.

Feet dragging you through the crowd painfully slowly, you try hard to find your table on the sides of the club. Your eyes never really had a 20/20 vision, but the neon lighting of the club and the glass of Martini you’d had before stepping to the dance floor with Chaeryeong really didn’t help you in seeing things clearly. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find your two other friends anywhere, and if you are being completely honest, you’re almost certain the table you previously sat at with your group was now occupied with someone completely else– meaning that your dear friends either left to the dancefloor, or left the club completely (which you doubted, but the possibilities were never really 0).

And so with that, you drag yourself towards the bar. You think that was a better option to choose in this situation– since you thought that going out for some fresh air is just going to get you kidnapped if you went there alone– and you also figured that you’d be easier to find by your lost friends if you were somewhere out in the open instead of in the corners of the humid room. Ordering yourself another Martini to pass the time, you drink the beverage in slow sips before you feel the presence of someone on the bar stool next to you.

You look up at the stranger beside you, noticing a boy around your age sending you a shy, yet charming look. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks.

“Not really,” you answer, watching as the boy nods, his shoulders relaxing as he orders himself a drink. 

“Are you here alone?” he asks as he looks back at you again, face tugging into a panicked expression when he realizes the implication his words may hold. “I’m not asking in a creepy way, or anything, it’s just- I’m a freshman and I lost the people I came here with, so I’m kind of alone here as well…” he quickly explains, eyes big and honest, “you just looked like you could use some company,” he explains, making an endeared smile flash over your features.

Shaking your head at his tangent, you wave him off with your hand. “Don’t worry, I got it,” you laugh, “and the same as you, actually. I came here with my friends, but they disappeared somewhere, so I just sat here and figured they’ll find me eventually.”

“Great minds think alike,” the boy laughs, holding up his glass before taking another sip, “well, until that happens, I guess we can hang out, can’t we? My name’s Chan.”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “it’s nice meeting you, Chan.”

The two of you talk about everything and anything: where he comes from, where you come from, which dorm building you’re staying at, which dorm building he’s staying at, your major  (literature) and his major (dance), your friends and his friends– and with the increasing amount of information you get out of him, the pull of gravity sends you more and more towards the boy. Chan is charming, talkative and fun. You find yourself attracted to him each time he cracks a joke or teases you about your choice of your favorite movie (‘This is the first time I’ve heard anyone say The gods must be crazy is their favorite movie!’), and that’s exactly why you don’t find it in you to say no when he asks if he could buy you a drink.

One drink turns into two– three, four, eventually even five– and you progressively start to forget all about your lost friends as you ask Chan to show you what being a dance major is all about and invite him to the dancefloor, swinging your hips back and forth to the rhythm.

You don’t know if they teach this type of choreography in dance school, but as the songs change from more upbeat to less energetic and more sensual, you find yourself a little too enchanted with the way Chan’s features soften under the neon pinks and purples, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and stepping closer to him. His arm ends up on your lower back– dangerously close to your bottom, which you aren’t that opposed to anyway– and when his nose brushes against the shell of your ear in the middle of one of the songs to talk to you, you can’t help but press yourself against him closer. 

“You’re kind of good at this, for a literature major,” he hums, his voice making shivers run down your spine.

And sure, it could’ve been just the alcohol levels in your blood that made you so dangerously close to him, but as you study his features– although a little hazily, but still fully taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkles in his eyes– you don’t have it in you to pull away when the boy leans in and kisses you, lips enchanting you the same way his moves have.

His kiss is heated and sensual, the one that makes your knees buckle and your mind go on overdrive, creating all sorts of fantasies in your delirious brain, and you must admit you don’t mind it when his hands slip further down to grope your butt, the two of you still lazily moving to the rhythm of the song in the background. The sound is coming in a little muffled to your ears as you let yourself fully indulge in the moment– it’s not every day you make out with an extremely attractive guy in the club– before your oxygen runs out and you have to pull away from him, instead studying Chan’s swollen lips from up close. They are inviting you for more, especially as his eyes open and look at you all blown-out and hazy, but you figure that he can wait. You have to catch your breath first and get yourself together– if you don't want to come completely undone in the middle of the crowded dance floor, that is.

You could honestly stare into his face forever, if you wanted to– except, you don’t have the chance as a loud voice from behind you calls: “Y/N! There you are!”

Annoyed thoughts fill your brain the very second you hear Minjeong from behind your back– where were they for the last hour? Of course they had to find you when the night was finally getting good– but you turn towards her nonetheless, showing her an innocent smile. You notice the girl is accompanied by the rest of your girl clover, alongside a tall guy that shows your companion a mischievous grin. “So I see you and Chan have already met and we don’t have to introduce you to each other anymore,” he says.

The sentence has you nervously clear your throat and take a step away from Chan. The boy ironically heaves out a: “Mingyu! How nice to see you again, after an hour.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t having fun.”

Feeling the atmosphere grow awkward, you quickly look at your friends, smiling tightly to try and save the situation (while also acting as if you didn’t just finish making out with their friend’s friend). “Where did you all go anyway?”

“Oh, we met Seungkwan and Vernon, so we decided to sit together, and then Chae came with Mingyu after some time, and that’s when we realized we were each missing a person… so here we are,” Minjeong clarifies, having you nod.

In conclusion, this is the story of how you met Lee Chan. What was supposed to be a one-night thing at a club for you, never really expecting to see the boy ever again (except from accidental meetings on the campus that could very well be played off as neither of you remembering), turned into a whole another situation as the two of you now shared a surprisingly tightly-knit friend group.

You never spoke about the kiss again. Or much at all, really.

Kind of disappointed with the fact, but still kind of okay with the situation, you found yourself falling into rhythm with the newly found world at university. You’d gotten used to the all-nighters, the weird partying in the middle of the week on a school night, to the hookup culture you’ve never really found yourself fitting in with, and with the life that comes to you when living in a dormitory. All of these somehow had the presence of Lee Chan included, though, as you learned on another Wednesday night (those are the designated bar runs when you’re friends with Chwe Vernon and Boo Seungkwan– since their Thursdays are free and they can get as drunk as they want without fearing being hungover in class), much to your surprise, you and the charismatic boy have the same clubbing tendencies.

That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so.

It doesn’t help that the both of you were light-weights– or at least that’s what you’ve been told. 

You two don’t talk to each other much before getting a few drinks in, since you’re a little shy when it comes to the charming, but endearing boy. What his reasoning for the seeming lack of interest in you when sober is, you’re not really sure– but as the night usually goes, you bet with Vernon on who can drink more tequila shots before their gag reflex hits, and sooner or later, you find yourself drunk at the bar. 

Once your otherwise stoic friend feels that it’s too much for him to handle and trails to the toilets (accompanied by a sulking Sungkwan complaining that ‘He always does this, ruining the night for everyone!’), you allow yourself to get back to the dance floor. Sounds like a good idea in theory, but is a bad idea in practice– somewhere along the way, you start to feel too dizzy in the heat of the crowd, the lightheadedness making you feel sick. Your figure is quickly dragged outside by a person you didn’t notice has been keeping their eyes on you, and only when you finally slip to the floor and sit on the pavement in front of the crowded bar, you recognise the guardian angel staring down at you with hazy eyes

“You looked like you were going to faint over there,” Chan hums, a perky expression playing with his face. There’s a boyish grin spread over his lips as he stares at your disheveled composure, the two of you coming into a weird sense of déja vu you’re convinced only a few shots of tequila can bring you into on a Wednesday night.

“Oh, I was going to,” you nod, watching as the boy settles next to you on the ground. The place around you is buzzing in true college fashion– people smoking, drinking off-the-counter alcohol straight from the bottle they got at the corner shop down the street because it’s cheaper than the shots in the club, people meeting and talking about their majors and where they’re from, making new connections.

“Thank god I was there to rescue you, then,” Chan chuckles, shoving you with his elbow.

“Yeah, my guardian angel,” you hum dreamily, giggling at the ridiculousness of your comment. 

“Saw Vernon running off with Seungkwan tailing him,” he nods, “now that’s not a guardian angel.”

“That’s a guardian devil for sure,” you hum, pursing your lips. “Wouldn’t want to have Seungkwan as my caretaker. He complains too much.”

“They argue like a married couple,” Chan snickers. 

“It’s the curse of being roommates. After a certain amount of time, you start to view each other like you’re married,” you hum, nodding to yourself.

“Do you consider Minjeong to be your wife?”

“No,” you sigh, shrugging, “she’s too immature to be my wife. I think of her more like my child, actually.”

“Well, looking at you right now, you don’t seem to be the more mature one out of the duo,” he pokes a finger to your side, making you jolt away at the contact. Furrowing your brows at him, clearly a little offended, you huff at him.

“The roles change when I drink. That’s how marriage works,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together, nodding, fully pleased with yourself.

Chan laughs at you. “I thought you said she was more like your child?”

“Then stop thinking, Chan.”

“You were the one who said it!” he points out, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re not sure to what extent you can blame this on the effect of alcohol– what can you say. Sometimes you get too tied up in your own lies.

“Oh,” you snicker, “right.”

“Dummy,” he teases, flicking the side of your thigh, making your blood boil with frustration.

“Who are you calling dummy?” you argue, having a perfect comeback to snap back at the boy. “Weren’t you the one coming to the wrong class for 2 weeks?”

Chan’s whole composure crumbles, a serious look tinted with hints of shame overtaking his previously grinning face. “Who told you that?”

“Not relevant,” you shrug. You find that it’s the best to keep the identity of the mole confidential. (It was Mingyu.)

“Was it Seungkwan?”

“No.”

“So it was.”

Sometimes you wonder just how clueless Lee Chan really is. Although you don’t think he’s slow, you must admit that he does have his moments that keep you wondering just how he can operate in the world without being used or manipulated on a daily basis. Is anyone keeping an eye on him? What if he accidentally joins a cult one day?

“Well, whoever told me wasn’t the one going to a completely different class for 2 weeks straight, so–”

“Look, it’s not my fault they make the schedule so difficult to read! The classes were overlapping on the thing, and I didn’t know which one applied to me, so I just assumed I could choose,” this has you laughing out loud at the boy, “and so I just chose one. I didn’t know those were electives. I didn’t even sign up for any electives! Can you believe that? We are supposed to have electives?” 

He looks so endearing as he speaks, laughing to himself and gesturing with his arms. There’s a sense of fondness pooling in your stomach as you reach over and plant a soft, quick peck to his lips. The male seems to be caught off-guard as he stops in his tracks, not a single word coming out of his lips after your action– and truth be told, although you’re kind of glad for the silence, the thought of scaring him away makes you a little anxious. When you look at him from the side, though, the boy is grinning.

Scattering to your feet, you wobbly waddle back into the humid building. You don’t think either of you could continue on with the conversation after your actions, and so you figure the best way to go around this is to leave. “Well, I’ll see you on the dance floor, Channie.”

The third time you manage to lock your lips with his is no different. It’s January now, though, and Seungkwan decided to host his birthday in one of the houses you can rent on the beach. It isn't as fun as it would've been in summer and you could go for a swim, but let’s be realistic– you'd never say no to a good birthday celebration. 

There’s havoc erupting all around you as your friend group sings the birthday song to Seungkwan. You all had something to drink prior to the cake ceremony, since some of you came sooner than the others and you figured that you have to wait for everyone with the cake, and so the singing now resembles a mating call of five dolphins more than the casual, harmonic birthday song. 

Seungkwan is sitting at the table, the rest of you gathered around him– some with glasses in their hands, some recording the commotion with their phones– and when the song is over and the birthday boy made his wish, he blows out the candles on the cake. Clapping resonates through the little kitchen, everyone ready for the cake, when Chan pushes the older one’s face straight into the icing.

It only takes Seungkwan half a second before he starts chasing the little devil around the beach house. The younger one is laughing at his own antics– which you must admit, although a little childish, you find to be quite endearing– and the older one curses at him with the most colorful vocabulary you’ve ever heard him say out loud. Not even Lee Chan’s own mother has ever scolded him in a way Boo Seungkwan is able to.

“Do you think Seungkwan would mind if I start cutting the cake without him?” Minjeong asks as she gets out a large knife– she looks a little threatening, you must say– which has you shrugging.

“I think he’s preoccupied right now,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve waited for this cake for over two hours,” she grunts, “so if he doesn’t want to cut it, I’ll do it for him,” she shrugs to herself and proceeds with her intentions.

Minjeong cuts straight through the face imprint of Boo Seungkwan in his own cake, slicing the red velvet into equal parts to put on the paper plates Vernon found somewhere in the back cupboards of the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“In a minute,” you laugh, shaking your head at your roommate, “I’ll go get them before they kill each other. I think the cake is enough to make truce fall over this war.”

“Stay safe out there,” Chaeryeong hums, nodding as she takes a paper plate and puts a chunky slice of the cake on, taking a fork into her hand and tasting the icing. “It’s surprisingly good even with Seungkwan’s skin cells in it.”

Minjeong slaps the other girl’s back, gritting her teeth. “Of course it’s good! I baked that shit for 2 hours and Y/N wouldn’t help, because she didn’t want to ruin it–”

(You just didn’t feel like baking. You don’t want to have another fight with your roommate about it, though, and that’s another excuse to leave the kitchen and go find Chan with his murderer.) 

Peering your eyes around the whole beach house, you fail to find Seungkwan anywhere. Assuming you two accidentally missed each other and he’s back reunited with his cake, your legs automatically lead you on the patio, where you find Chan resting against the railway. He is wearing a leather jacket, his hair now a little longer than when you first met him in September, and when the noise of the back door opening lands into his ears, he makes a turn and watches you cross the space between you, all while eyeing your naked legs. 

You contemplated if wearing a mini skirt in the middle of January was a good idea, but the satisfaction running through your veins at his hungry, yet collected eyes make it all worth it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. You shake your head in answer, but he pays it no attention as he takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, the smell of his cologne filling your nose like a blissful drug. You’ve always liked attention, but when it comes to Lee Chan, you are twice as satisfied when he pays you just a mere glance.

“Not anymore,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “Seungkwan gave up on murdering you?”

“I think it was more of a health concern for him. He was breathing so heavily after a few minutes of running that I thought he was going to suffocate,” Chan snickers, making you laugh.

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight anyway,” you peep, “just in case.”

“Oh, definitely,” he nods, grinning. “I won’t even take any drinks from him in case he poisons them. Better be safe than sorry.”

He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lights up one for himself and offers you one as well. Even though you always promise yourself you’re quitting and that smoking is a bad habit you should overcome, you eagerly nod and watch him with half-lidded eyes as he lights it for you, one hand close to your face shielding the lighter from the chilly breeze, just like every time. You haven't had that much to drink yet, but the effect of nicotine always makes your head spin when the smoke fills your lungs. Truth be said, though, you are afraid that the proximity of your friend doesn’t help much with the weakness of your knees either.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbles when the both of you are done smoking, hands gripping the sides of his open jacket on your body, tugging you towards him just the slightest amount. 

Like another bad habit the both of you have to break, he seems to pause for a second, as if questioning himself one more time before he goes for it and places a short peck to your lips, leading you to the beach house again, now flushed and internally squealing.

The fourth time, it happens on his own birthday party. 

It’s too late in the semester for any of you to experience a big party, the exam season being just around the corner. You still managed to gather and celebrate nonetheless– the boys letting you into their dorm building, your little friend group fitting inside of the communal kitchen on the end of the hall. People passing by look at you with half concerned, half annoyed faces at the commotion– which is understandable, nobody wants ruckus just down the hall when they’re supposed to be working on the last-minute assignments– but you don’t mind it much, telling yourself it’s not your problem in the first place and you’re allowed to have a bit of fun once in a while, as long as you’re not the one being wronged in the moment. 

A bottle of champagne is taken out of the fridge by the hands of the birthday boy, the commotion around you happily cheering and clapping (only Chaeryeong hides away from the pointed tip of the bottle, knowing all too well that Chan is not to be trusted with things that can explode), and while Mingyu encourages the boy to pop the champagne open out of the window, you all realize that the action is indeed, not possible.

“Don’t tell me you got the one with the lid that screws on!” Seungkwan turns around to scream into Vernon’s face, having the poor man shrug to himself.

“You can’t really tell in the store when the seal is on–”

“Then you should’ve double checked–” the nagging would go on further if it wasn’t for the last bits of common sense from the birthday boy himself (that Seungkwan would protect with everything in him, making sure their youngest has the best birthday ever, but would never admit to it outloud), as he just unscrews the lid and flicks it out of the opened window instead, earning himself a couple of cheers and claps from the rest of the group. 

The bottle gets passed around the circle, each of you chugging the sparkly alcohol straight from it– because pouring the drinks would take too much effort, and also, there weren't even enough glasses for everyone to pour the beverage into anyway.

The tallest one out of the gathering takes a cake out of the overstuffed fridge, lighting a singular candle in the middle and holding it up in front of the birthday boy’s face. There are sparkles in Chan’s eyes despite the poor condition of the cake– it’s one of those you get discounted in the dollar store, one of those that don’t even have candles on them and you have to get them yourself (which is exactly why Chan’s cake only has a singular, yellow candle in the middle)– and you find yourself admiring the sheer joy and appreciation in his orbs with fondness in your heart. 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you–”

“Happy birthday, dear Channie!” Seungkwan’s vocal abilities shine through in the heartfelt song, the dramaticness of your whole group never denying itself as all of them make sure to sing to Chan with as much theatrical over-exaggeration as they can. Chan watches the flame with an inkling in his eye you can’t quite place. He looks adorable, you think.

You watch from behind as he blows out the candle. Something inside of you beams at the sight of your friend growing older– the fact that you’re here, celebrating with him moving something in you. You don’t often like it when people get older, but you think birthday celebrations make the sentiment worth it. In a moment of particular fondness, you hug the boy from the back– where you’ve been standing, considering the crammed nature of the kitchen– and whisper a giddy ‘Happy birthday!’ into his ear. 

The male turns his head to you, a grin settling on his lips as he scans your face from up close. He looks at you with a look that you can’t really read, but makes you all warm from the inside. It’s different to the way he usually looks at you, and you only decipher it when he quickly leans towards your face and presses a peck to your lips. Only then it starts to all make sense.

He does it in front of everybody, the rest of your friends whistling at the action. Your heart leaps a little as you wrestle Chan off with a laugh, trying hard to keep the unseriousness of it all. If you can keep lying to your friends about the way you feel towards the male, maybe you’ll even manage to convince yourself. 

The cake is taken away from his grasp and placed onto the table, ready to be served. You keep a calculated distance away from him, but that still doesn’t keep you from watching the boy from afar. There’s a certain haziness in his eyes when you stare at him from across the room and an aftertaste of vodka on your tongue when you lick it off your lips.

The fifth time, it happens when you gather to celebrate passing your exams. 

College kids have only one way of celebrating the joys of life (as well as only one way of dealing with sorrows), and that is– you guessed it– alcohol. The whole friend group gathered in the common kitchen of the boy’s dormitories again, soju bottles ringing against each other as you cheered and drowned in the taste of the liquor. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t watching Chan the whole time, the endearing twinkles in his eyes making you foolishly drink more and more, a weird desire in you just begging to be drowned out, since you couldn’t do anything about it.

Once the night was over and the bottles were all emptied, the boys decided to walk you back to your dorm building.

“Gyu, it’s literally a 10 minute walk across the campus. What could possibly happen on the way there?” Minjeong laughed, but the commotion followed you outside nonetheless.

“It’s dark outside!” Mingyu insisted. “You never know what could happen. I don’t want the responsibility of your dead bodies on my hands.”

“Chaeryeong is feral enough to fight off any creeps alone, you don’t have to worry about us,” Minjeong joked, but the boys followed you outside nonetheless, grabbing their coats and escaping the warmth of their dorms.

You find yourself trailing behind the group, the essence of soju lulling you to a peaceful slumber that you perform despite still being on the go, your brain coated with the incoherent buzz. Lee Chan finds his stance next to you, cautiously watching over your step as you shuffle across the sidewalk, a gentle voice coaxing you awake.

“Got any plans for the winter break?” he asks.

“Probably just going to stay home with my parents for a bit,” you muse, shrugging. “Have lots of naps… I need to recharge. This semester was too hectic.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” Chan admits, chuckling at your shared despair. 

Kicking the pebbles under your feet, you watch as the male indulges in a little game of football with you, passing the chosen rock back to you each time you kick it too far. The air is crisp and you sniffle a little from the cold every once in a while, but every time you catch the playful twinkle in Chan’s eyes when the pebble hits the side of your shoe again, you feel a bit of warmth engulfing you from the inside.

“I think this whole thing would be far less enjoyable if it wasn’t for you guys,” Chan admits, licking his lips. He’s right– it’s always better to have someone to rely on in university. You can’t imagine going to school and not having a familiar face to fall back to any time you feel lonely. It’s easier when you know all the insider tips from your older upperclassmen friends– when you have a default friend group you fit into without actually attempting to make any new friends yourself. Suddenly, you’re awfully thankful for everyone.

“Yeah. Although they did turn me into an alcoholic, it seems,” you chuckle, earning yourself an amused giggle coming from Chan.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck. “We have to tune it down next semester. Wouldn’t wanna end up in AA instead of graduating.”

“Now, that’s a long way from here,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

“You never know before it’s too late, to be fair.”

You don’t realize it back then, but Chan is always somehow there when you take it too far, taking note of your drunken needs and providing you safety from creeps in the club. Lee Chan holds your hair back when you throw up, your stomach too weak on certain nights. He is there when you want to dance and also when you want to cool down. He’s your drinking buddy, sure, but the reality is greater than that– he always wants you to have fun and be as comfortable as you can be. If he can do anything to ensure that, he’s going to do it.

That applies to your sober adventures as well, although he’s more reserved when he has nothing to blame for his obviously smitten actions. Cranking his neck to look at you better, Chan decides to get rid of anything to blame next time. 

Maybe he has to try harder.

Just tonight, for the last time, Chan kisses you with an excuse of alcohol to fall back on in front of your dorm building when nobody is watching, paying his goodbyes to you. He kisses you almost tenderly, making your knees buckle and the lightness in your stomach cry out with full measures.

“I’ll miss you, Y/L/N.”

You don't see Chan for a while after. You spend the rest of the winter break you have after completing your exams at home, relaxing with your parents. They are right when they say that the holidays should be spent with your family– no matter how much you love the friends you made in university.

Coming back to school after the few weeks of break brought a sudden change to your and Chan’s dynamic, though. While you must admit that you’ve grown strangely closer over the months, talking more even sober and naturally gravitating towards each other when sitting in booths at McDonald’s or falling into casual conversation at the back of the group when walking to places with everyone, you find that Chan puts more effort into being friends with you now.

He texts you randomly through-out the day, asking you how you are and what you’re up to. He sends you pictures of Seungkwan when he’s sleeping in the lectures, and you even find yourself laughing at the Instagram reels he randomly shoots your way in the middle of the night sometimes. He doesn’t drink much even when all of you end up going to the nearby bar again on a Tuesday evening, and you find yourself following his pattern, knowing that even if you gave in to the alcohol, the tipsy state wouldn’t be as fun if you didn’t have anyone to share the same energy with. 

Because while you do enjoy drinking, the truth is, it’s not as fun without your drinking buddy. Half the fun of drinking is having fun with the people you share the moment with, and, well, it wouldn’t feel right to drink with the others being sober. You owe your friends that much.

Lee Chan puts effort into being friends with you more, and you don’t know if you like it. 

Because even though before, you weren’t as close as you might be now, the adrenaline of what could be and what even is between the two of you any time you’re under the influence was exciting you, keeping you on your toes, making you feel desired and liked. Now, he’s relaxed– no more than an arm around your shoulder when his hand gets tired in the booth of the bar. The casualty of it all gets you worried.

So when the time comes and the two of you finally hang out one on one today, getting boba and then finding comfort in the April sunlight provided by the park across from your dorms, you find yourself questioning the nature of this hangout. And you think you’re not wrong for that, of course– everyone with working two eyes must admit that Lee Chan has been sending you mixed signals so far.

Hearing the question “Can I kiss you?” from his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink and eyes big in anticipation, was even more surprising to your ears, and you might understand it better now– the history you have with the boy suggests that there’s no need in asking, but also, the intentions are more than unclear at the moment. He’s not drunk– not even tipsy– why is this happening, then?

“I mean, we don’t have to, of course, I– I just–” he stutters, eyes aimlessly breaking eye contact with yours to stare anywhere but at your lips right now, nerves clearly written all over his face and in the stance he’s taking, a few steps below you on the stairway to the dormitory. Snickering at his hesitance, you sigh to yourself.

“This is the first time you asked,” you mumble a little jokingly, and when the boy’s eyes finally meet yours again, he seems a little embarrassed from the way his ears are burning red and he chews on the inside of his cheek. 

The tone of his voice is kind of defeated, a little shy, even, when he speaks up again. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “so I finally wanted to do it right. And sober, no matter how fucking wrong and weird that sounds.”

Breaking into a soft laughter at his comment– because truthfully, to a stranger’s ear, that might sound a little alarming– you roll your eyes at the boy and lean down to be at his level, palms of your hands meeting with his cheeks as he watches you with curious eyes, the sparkle in them filling you to the brim with endearance. Your lips meet with his in a gentle, soft, yet yearning-filled kiss, having your eyes fluttering close and the pads of your thumbs softly stroking over the skin of his cheekbones. 

The kiss is no different to the ones you’ve shared before– well, except there’s no loud music in the background, no smell of trash cans behind the bar or the smoke of an earlier-smoked cigarette in the air, and most importantly, no taste of alcohol on either of your lips– but still, it feels a little different. Sure, it has your knees week and your stomach feeling fuzzy, it does make you feel like you’re drunker than you were, which now, sober, you realize it just the effect Lee Chan has on you alone, but there’s a little more care, thought and intention to the kiss now, and it hits you with full force when you pull away from him and feel his hands glazing the skin of your waist in a hesitant hug.

“So that means this was a date then, right?” you ask.

“Well, you didn’t really seem to care about that all the times we've kissed before–” he jokes, earning himself a swat to his shoulder.

Now he’s bold.

“Okay, sure, if it helps you sleep at night. I’ll even take you out on another one, if you want.”

Turns out that alcohol was the variable in your relationship that only brought you two courage– the desire to kiss his lips off has always been there, you just never acted on it sober. And while you’re not so sure you’re gonna tell the story of how you two met in detail to your kids one day, you’re glad for the kick the rum and coke gave you on the day of your orientation, because who knows. Maybe you wouldn’t be here without the weird coincidence.

[shortstrawberry]

A RL AU where Donna is Dr. Donna Beneviento, your Professor of Botany and Toxicology. Because we deserve it.

You met Dr Beneviento in a totally cliche way. By bumping into her while you're running late for your first day at college. At that time you didn't even realise she is a professor at the college. Dr. Donna has this young baby face that would make anyone think she's a senior at college, and not a woman well into her thirties.

So it's no wonder that you made a complete fool of yourself in the first meeting. You apologise 10 times for knocking her books all over the place. You also noticed her trying to hide her scarred side of face while gathering the very same books with you. Like a over enthusiastic idiot, you went ahead and tried to make your future professor feel comfortable about it with you.

"Scars are beautiful in my opinion. They show you survived so much. You don't need to hide them, at least from me."

Thankfully, Dr Beneviento didn't take any offence to your eager compliments, and instead just blushed and smile at you. That was enough for you to get your first crush at college. But like the gay panicky idiot you are, you didn't take her name or number. Still, you figured your roommates would know about her. How hard can it be to find a beautiful pale faced senior in college?

Not so hard, you figured out as the very same beautiful woman showed up in your Botany lecture. That's right, the woman you had tried to shamelessly flirt with was your Professor.

Understandably, you were mortified. You approached her after class, fully intending to kowtow before the professor in apology. Dr Beneviento though shyly waved your apologies away, instead asking you to assist her in her botanical garden.

A first year being asked to be a professor's assistant is no doubt strange. But Dr Beneviento was so insistent you take the job. She even went ahead and assured you a good pay and two days holiday in a week. Something she honestly didn't even need to do. You were already such a simp for her and would have done it for free.

And so starts you getting to know your Botany professor up close. The woman was almost always squeaky shy, the tempo of her voice barely reaching above her whisper. But when she stands on her podium, teaching a batch of 100+ students, you swear a spilt personality takes over the normally shy professor. It shows that Donna knows the shit she is teaching, and she demands respect over it from her students.

However, it soon became obvious that Dr Beneviento harbours a sweet spot for you. You'll always remember that one moment where she had caught you sleeping in one of her classes. You had stayed up all late tending to the new batch of soil you're preparing for the garden. The usually impartial professor came up to your seat, took off her trenchcoat and draped it over your sleeping form. She even went ahead patting your head before continuing with her class. She also did this in front of 100+ students.

After this, you can't help but get your hopes up high. Still, she's your professor and there's nothing you can do on your end. What if you have it all wrong and Dr Beneviento cares for you because you're her niece Angie's friend? And so you keep quiet.

Little do you know, Professor Donna Beneviento fell for you at first sight. Inviting you to be her botanical garden assistant was a ploy to get close to you. Inviting you and Angie to her cottage for dinner was a ploy to get to know you outside of classes and work. But just like you, Donna is also afraid of making the first move. Especially when you're still her student and she is so much older then you in age. For now, she is content to admire you from as close as she can get to you.

Wanna see a jealous and possessive Professor Donna in action? Let me know!

[melancholyhigh]

who has the face like smarty does?

ft. dbf!leon x fem!reader

synopsis. your dad is drunk and can barely drive home after a night out. luckily his best bud leon is there to help.

content. smut. 2.4k words. unprotected p in v, he pulls out, fingering, begging, masturbation, slight scratching, it's surprisingly soft 'n sweet, pet names, reader is kinda a perv, ooc vendetta!leon (he's on vacation).

note. he's so lana del rey. btw my inboxes are open if you guys wanna chat or request anything.

masterlist. part one. part two. part three. reblogs & feedback are appreciated !!

You first met Leon when your dad invited him for dinner. 

It was not an invitation but rather a last-second call. Your father was out, and he saw a co-worker, Leon, and thought it would be great to catch up over a drink at home. 

It was by sheer luck that they were both on vacation. 

They had a history together. Both work together in the DSO. At some point, you had to know what your father did to get an income. You knew it was selfish that you hated your father’s job. He was saving lives, sure, but you dreaded the day he won’t enter through the doors of your home, so you were ecstatic that he finally took a vacation.

You were on Spring break from college and decided to be a doting daughter and stay with your dad because you were concerned about how alone he was. So when you saw not only him but a stranger walking through the door, you were shocked. 

Your father introduced the stranger. Leon S. Kennedy.

You shook his hand, palm calloused from years of work.

He was gorgeous. The dark locks which framed his face, the tight leather jacket that fit him oh so well, and the smile of pride he has when your father laughs at one of his jokes. 

At dinner, your eyes flicker to him. His hands as they grip the glass of whiskey. The long, thick fingers circled the drink. His veins protrude as he takes a swig of the amber-coloured liquid. 

You noticed that Leon respected your father and his work. You also saw how his eyes crinkle when he chuckles and the smirk he adorns when he catches you looking at him. 

You didn’t know whether you felt relieved or disappointed when he left, patting your dad’s shoulder and thanking him for the meal and drink.

For one, you were glad your dad had a good friend to rely on, someone he could trust and relate to — despite being a few years his senior.

But on the other hand, you couldn’t get him out of your head.

You went to bed that night, and your mind was plagued with thoughts of Leon. He was all you could think about. 

And a few days after, your dad invited him over again. To watch ‘the game’ or whatever. You hadn’t pegged him as a sports guy. You weren’t one, but when your dad offered for you to join in a joking manner, you accepted. He was taken aback but happy nonetheless. 

You were sitting on the couch, looking at the screen, brows furrowed. You felt a dip in the cushion right next to you. Looking up, you expect to see your dad, only to be met with the man you couldn’t get out of your head. 

You bit your lip, staring at his handsome face, trying to be discreet.

Your gaze lowers, his hand holding onto the beer bottle and even lower to his thighs. God, they were so muscular, his jeans making them more pronounced. It was wrong to think of him like that, especially since your dad considered him his best bud. But you wanted so badly to sit on his lap. You wondered if he’d grip your hips, guiding your pussy against his thigh, trying to make you come undone —

“I can feel you staring at me,” a deep, smooth voice called out. Your eyes snapped up to meet Leon. Your face feels hot from the embarrassment of getting caught staring at him. You were lucky your dad was in the kitchen.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled in shame. Did he think you were some perv? He wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

Leon laughs, and you can’t help but feel both mortified and aroused. One of his hands moves to sit on top of your thigh, and he squeezes it softly.

“Don’t be. I like the attention, sweetheart.” 

You can’t even look at him or get a word out without stuttering. You’re too busy trying to comprehend that he’s actually touching you. 

His hand stays on your thigh, eating up your reaction. It returns to his side when your dad returns to the room, passing Leon another drink. 

“Hey, kid, ya good? You’re looking a little faint,” your father asks, sitting near you. Leon smirks, taking a sip from his drink. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Dad. I think it’s ‘cause our team’s playing ass.” You responded, trying to play it cool. 

Your dad scoffs, “Greedy bastards. What’d they expect from selling their best players?”

You sigh, grateful your dad is going on a tangent about his team.

–-

You haven’t seen Leon in a week. You also haven’t stopped thinking about him since.

His voice and soft touch swarm your mind. Unable to focus on anything, your mind is consumed with nothing but him. You’ve come undone with nothing but his name on your tongue. 

You wanted to see him again — to continue what he started. 

Your dad had a work celebration to attend. Therefore leaving you all alone in an empty house. 

You were concerned for your father. You knew he couldn’t handle his alcohol consumption which often left you taking care of him, ironically enough. You hoped he’d be okay to get home safe.

You heard a knock on the door.

Checking the time, you groan. It was 11:32 PM, way past his bedtime. 

Opening the door, you are met with a familiar face holding your father up by his shoulders. Your father stumbles into the house, barely greeting you with a ‘hi, kid’ before making a beeline to the kitchen and then his room. 

“He swears he's not senile, then pulls some shit like that,” you complained.

Leon chuckles, and you clear your throat. Oh yeah. Him.

“Did you drive here drunk?” You questioned, smelling the whiskey on his breath, “You should stay for a bit. Sober up.”

It was a weak attempt to get him to stay. You knew he was more capable drunk than you were stone sober. 

Smiling, he surprisingly agreed, “You’re right.”

You move aside, letting him enter your home. Your dad was probably out cold. This is your chance. 

“Sorry ‘bout my dad, by the way,” you said. Leon shakes his head, sitting down on the couch, leaning back. He spreads his legs. Fuck.

“He wasn’t too bad,” he replies. He continues about the event, but you get none of it. Too preoccupied with staring at his pretty lips as he speaks. 

“I love it when you look at me like that, sweetheart,” he utters with a grin.

He caught you again. How embarrassing. Do you ever learn?

Looking at you with half-lidded eyes, he takes in your appearance. Your pebbled nipples are shown through the thin tank top, and your thighs are pressed together. He knows how badly you want him. 

“C’mere, baby,” he murmurs, patting his lap, and you follow his orders like his obedient puppy, straddling him. You gasped softly, feeling his hardening erection through the flimsy fabric of your sleep shorts, which were soaked. His hands come up to your waist, grasping it.

“I can feel how wet your pussy is for me, sweet girl,” Leon groans quietly.

You move to press your lips against his, but he grips your jaw, preventing you. His thumb is on your bottom lip, jutting out.

“Tell me how bad you want me.” He grunted. You pout, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Need you, Leon. So, so bad, please.” You whined, rocking your hips against his clothed cock, craving the friction.

“Did you play with your pretty clit thinking of me, hm?” He knew, of course, he fucking knew. 

“Mhm.” You nod your head mindlessly. It was impressive how he turned you into such a pathetic, whiney mess, desperate for any attention he gives so quickly. 

He grins, bringing you into your well-deserved kiss. His plump lips meet yours, teeth clashing as you taste the bitter alcohol on his tongue. Your arms wrap around his neck, and your breasts are flushed with his chest. His lips move together with yours before he pulls away. 

“Let’s move to your bedroom before you give your old man a heart attack.” You playfully smack him, and he smiles.

His strong hands move to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up. He enters your bedroom with you in his arms and places you on your bed. He’s locking the door before getting on top of you. 

Placing a chaste kiss on your lips, he thumbs the waistband of your shorts, getting them off you slowly. When they’re off, Leon grips your legs, spreading them apart. You watch as he marvels at your dripping cunt, turning your head away in embarrassment. 

He runs his fingers through your folds, coating them with your slick. Rubbing the sensitive bud with his thumb, he notices your hips grinding against him in desperation.

“So sensitive, pretty girl.” He mumbles, watching as you squirm against the strawberry-printed sheet of your bed.

His ring and middle finger prod at your entrance, sliding in. His fingers are so thick and long, filling your pussy better than your own. He’s pumping his fingers into you slowly. Breathy moans and whines escape your parted lips.

He watches in a trance as his fingers disappear into your warm pussy.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, whimpering. His thumb is on your swollen bud, and you throw your head back and grab at sheets, bunching it up. You’re close to the edge. Leon curls his fingers inside you, and your orgasm washes over you with a loud cry of Leon’s name. 

He adores your little cries and gasps. You look so gorgeous. Your thighs shake with the aftershock of your orgasm, and Leon gives you a minute to come down from your high. 

He’s palming his now fully hardened cock through the fabric of his jeans, watching as your chest moves with every breath you take. 

Leon eagerly rids you off your tank top, your tits exposed to the cool air, nipples hardening even more. You move to your knees and cross your arms.

“That’s unfair,” you huff. “You still have all your clothes on.”

“I’ll make it even then, baby.”

He shrugs his leather jacket off his shoulders and pulls the black tee over his head. One of his hands trails from his neck to the front of his pants, and the veins of his arms are prominent as he unbuckles his belt. He’s making a show of himself since he knows how much you love admiring him.

Pulling off his pants, he’s in nothing but boxers. Your eyes move down to his hips, following his v-line. Your attention is now on the trail of curls that leads into and beneath his boxers, which are blotted with stains of precum. 

Leon tugs his boxers down, revealing his flushed dick. The tip is red, and precum is dribbling down his shaft. Your cunt aches at the mere sight of him, causing you to squeeze your thighs together. 

His hands are on his cock, pumping the shaft. He smears the precum on his head, rubbing it like he did your clit. His head is thrown back as he moans loudly. Leon adores your eyes on him like he’s your favourite display. 

You’re crawling over to him. You were not even face-to-face with his dick before he stopped you. His hand encloses your jaw again, preventing you from giving him the messiest head you could manage. 

His thumb is pressing against your lips. 

“Not now, sweetheart. Maybe next time,” he mumbles. His voice is so deep yet soft, and his words made your heart and pussy flutter. “Need to be inside you.”

“On your back.” You silently and obediently follow his command, laying the soft sheets. You’d do anything he told you if you were honest with yourself. 

Leon is in between your spread legs, lifting them to his hips. Wrapping your legs around his torso, you bring him closer to you. 

He’s guiding the tip of his cock through your wet folds, using your arousal and cum as a lubricant before slowly entering your warm cunt. 

You gasp at the sting, tears forming at your waterline. Leon gives you time to adjust, kissing your hot tears away. He’s fully sheathed inside your gummy walls, and you whimper.

“M’gonna move, alright? It'll feel better in a minute.” You give him a weak nod, sniffling. 

He thrusts into you, and one of his hands is on your hip, squeezing it softly. The pain of the stretch fades into something euphoric. It has you mewling into Leon’s ear.

He’s holding back, trying to be quiet. He’s afraid of your father and what he’d do if he caught him. But this pussy was worth all the trouble.

His hips pick up in speed, fucking you at a faster pace. Your hands move up to his shoulders, your nails digging into the flesh of the skin, dragging it down to his pecs. Leon moans at the discomfort.

Warmth pulses through you when Leon rubs your clit.  It added to the pleasure of getting your pussy pounded by his fat cock.

“L– Leon!” you cried out, your thighs trembling. You cover your mouth with your palm containing your whines. 

Your pussy squeezes around him, effectively milking him of what he had. He feels your warm walls pulse around his throbbing dick. Your cunt gushes around his cock as you come with a cry muffled by your hands. 

He buries his head into the crook of your neck. An attempt to stop his moans. His stubble rubbed against the sensitive skin of your neck while he left opened-mouth kisses along the column of your throat.

You are overstimulated as Leon bucks his hips into you, trying to reach his high. 

He comes with a soft groan of your name, pulling out and finishing on your tummy. 

You’re both panting. Leon collapses next to you with a soft grunt. His dark hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head. You feel his sticky cum on your skin, but you’re too tired to care. Too tired to care about the consequences of tomorrow.

Your eyes fluttered shut, sleep taking over you, attempting to cuddle with him. Leon smiles at the sight, his heart warm in his chest. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up first, sweetheart.”