#is he hitting on *you*? does he want to fuck you? or does he just want to fight someone and can't tell the difference between his impulses?

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 08

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, hockey injuries. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 12 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You lie awake for hours. What happened between you and Sukuna during the private ice skating lesson? Didn't the whole thing in the hockey arena feel too romantic and too intimate for just fuckbuddies? Do friends with benefits really kiss each other like that?

You feel strangely smitten, almost shy, when you think about your evening with Sukuna. He was such a gentleman, making sure you didn't slip and fall on your ass, helping you exit the ice and make your way to the bench, where you could put on your shoes again. You left the arena, and Sukuna ruffled your hair and made a joking comment about how you had screeched when you set foot on the ice for the first time. And you playfully hit his biceps and told him to shut up. But your heart was racing, and your face felt too hot, and you are sure you giggled like some teenager with a big fat crush.

Sukuna walked you back to your dorm, and you teased each other the whole way. You asked Sukuna if he wanted to come in, and he agreed with his typical sexy smirk. You spent an hour in your bed, low groans and soft mewls and the rhythmical sound of your headboard banging against the wall filling your room.

And now, Sukuna is gone again, but your pillow still smells like him. And you stare at the ceiling, unable to get that kiss in the hockey arena out of your head. A kiss that felt too romantic, too tender.

You know your little private ice skating lesson wasn't a date, but why did it almost feel like one? If you are honest with yourself, the hour spent ice skating in Sukuna's arms felt nicer than any real date you had.

You wonder if Sukuna is lying awake, too? Does he ask himself the same questions you are asking yourself? You want to convince yourself he isn't aware of it. But there's a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you how good Sukuna is at analyzing things. You are sure he can see how close the two of you have become, too.

But does he care? Does he want more? Or is it just fun for him? You know Sukuna has that bad reputation that paints him as a fuckboy. But is he, though? The thing is that ever since the two of you started your little arrangement, Sukuna seems to only fuck one girl... and that girl is you. And then there are all those little things Yuuji says that sometimes sound like he is dropping hints about Sukuna possibly liking you as more than just a casual fuckbuddy.

"Oh shit."

You groan and pull your blanket over your face, hiding yourself even deeper in the comfort of your bed. The little hopeful spark and the butterflies in your stomach scare you. You know this feeling all too well, and you don't want it!

You told yourself you would get through college without the complications of romantic feelings. All love ever did was cause you heartbreak and pain. You swore off it after the disappointment that your ex-boyfriend was. You swore to yourself that you would just have fun when you go to college. Nothing serious. No relationship. No feelings. Just fun. And this fuckbuddies arrangement with Sukuna had seemed so perfect for what you wanted. But what now? What if you suddenly develop feelings for Sukuna?

You cannot let that happen. You have to fight it!

Get a fucking grip!

You see Sukuna the next day, and you manage to act normal around him, ignoring the fluttery feeling in your stomach when he smirks at you and lets his large hand slowly trail down your arm to steal your heavy stack of books out of your hands and carry it for you to your classic literature classroom. He makes a comment about you obviously being too weak to carry it on your own while giving you one of his devilish looks, and you roll your eyes and yank the books out of his arms even though Sukuna already carried them all the way to the classroom.

You agree to meet him for lunch, and by the time the two of you have finished your meals and bickered playfully over all kinds of things, you feel better. More in control again. You can do this. You can continue this fuckbuddies thing with Sukuna without making things awkward. Even if his boyish smirk and those pretty, maroon eyes and mouth-watering muscles make your pulse race. It's fine. Sukuna is your friend. Just that. Just a very hot guy-friend who fucks your brains out anytime you feel like it.

It's perfect the way it is. You wouldn't want to risk losing this.

Sukuna asks you to see him after hockey practice, and you spend an hour in his bed that evening, moaning into his pillow and laughing against his buff biceps afterward when he lies next to you and shows you a funny video on his phone.

You steal a drag from Sukuna's cigarette that he smokes by his window, and he grins at you and pulls you into a kiss with that sexy, teasing tongue flick at the end before he tells you to be a good girl and go home to study for your classic literature course so you can join him in the top-grades-getter-league.

It's Friday, and Nobara keeps bugging you about joining her for a night out at a popular club, claiming that you will get a bad case of FOMO if you don't come with her. You doubt her words, but you have to admit that maybe a girls' night with some dancing and some fancy drinks is exactly what you need to get your mind off a certain pink-haired hockey player, and so you laugh and tell her to help you pick an outfit.

Nobara was right about the club being amazing. You really have a lot of fun, sipping on some pastel-colored sweet cocktail and dancing and laughing with your dormmate, feeling as if this is the authentic college experience.

The club is a popular meeting spot for college students. You see so many familiar faces. And so, it should probably not come as a surprise when you see several hockey players. You try not to do it, but your gaze keeps wandering through the club, searching for one particular Tiger.

And you find him.

He is leaning casually against a pillar, laughing at something his brother is saying to him before Yuuji gets pulled onto the dancefloor by Todo. Sukuna stays where he is, lifting a bottle of some vodka mix drink to his lips and tilting his head back to gulp it down. His Adam's apple bops enticingly, making you involuntarily lick your lips.

You have stopped dancing, you realize. Too busy staring at Sukuna.

Damn, stop it!

You shake your head and laugh, grabbing Nobara's hand to spin her around, forcing yourself to get back into your little fun time with your friend. But even as you dance with her, your gaze keeps straying back to your fuckbuddy, who is still standing at the same spot.

Several hockey players gather around Sukuna, laughing, chatting, and drinking together. Tequila shots this time. It looks like the whole team is here tonight, maybe celebrating something. Sukuna hasn't spotted you yet, and you use that chance to let your eyes trail slowly over him.

He looks hot. He always does, of course. Tall, athletic, and handsome. The tight black t-shirt he is wearing shows off his well-defined muscles and sexy tattoos. The expression on his tattooed face is aloof and bored, making him probably look even more attractive to all the girls who are eyeing him. Sukuna is a challenge. The bad boy, who seems so hard to please. The tough guy who seems like he never smiles. But you have seen his smile and know how to get it out of him.

You are about to walk over to Sukuna to greet him, but you freeze up when you watch a pretty girl dance up to him, a seductive smile on her face. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. The girl gets on her tiptoes, a sugary smile on her beautiful face as she says something to Sukuna. Her hand sprawls over his pecs, her body leaning closer and closer to him.

But Sukuna shakes his head at her and plucks her hand off him with a cold sneer on his beautiful face. He points a long, tattooed finger at one of his teammates and steers the girl over to him.

And as fast as that strange feeling in your guts appeared, it is gone again, and instead, you catch yourself grinning from ear to ear.

And suddenly, that maroon gaze is on you. You draw in a sharp breath, staring back at Sukuna as the seconds tick by.

Sukuna's tattooed face lights up with a broad grin, and he pushes himself off the pillar he was leaning against. Your pulse is racing as you watch him walk over to you while Nobara is laughing. Sukuna stops in front of you, tall and sexy with that boyish smirk and looking so good in his tight black t-shirt and jeans.

"Hey, princess."

The words come out slightly slurred. You tilt your head to smile at him, noticing the somewhat unfocused look in his usually so sharp eyes. He is drunk, you realize. His grin turns into a lopsided smile, and somehow, it makes him look almost cute. Softer around the edges. He seemed so aloof a moment ago when he turned that girl down, but now he is all playful again when he reaches out to wrap his strong arms around your waist and pull you against him.

"Fuck, I'm glad you're here, too, princess. I was so fucking bored."

He jerks his chin at Nobara in a greeting, informing her with a smirk,

"I am stealing her for a while. Find someone else to dance with, Ginger. What about my brother? He is a good dancer. Get him before someone else does."

Nobara complains loudly, smacking Sukuna's biceps while telling him that hockey players suck in general and pink-haired ones in particular, but you can hear the smile in her voice, and she really half-walks, half-dances away from Sukuna and you, looking for another dance partner.

You chuckle softly as Sukuna pulls you to him, making you stumble into his firm body. You put your hands on Sukuna's abs to brace yourself, grinning up at him, your pulse fluttering at being so close to him. His body heat seeps through his shirt, and his firm abs move under your palms when he leans down to press a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek,

"Come on, dance with me so Todo and the brat get off my dick and stop pestering me about dancing with them."

Sukuna pulls you with him to the middle of the dancefloor, where the rest of the hockey players are. You don't even have time to complain or feel embarrassed about your dancing skills because Sukuna's strong arms are wrapped so firmly around you that you can't really make any move on your own anyway. And the drinks you had make you tipsy enough to just go with it and laugh loudly as Sukuna grinds against you.

You find yourself relaxing, just having fun with Sukuna and his teammates, dancing dirty with Sukuna while singing along to the songs, and smiling when Sukuna grins at you. You wrap your hands around Sukuna's neck, letting him sway you from side to side, or press his tall, muscular body tightly against yours to grind against you slowly.

It seems only natural that the two of you kiss. Sloppy, drunk kisses that make you chuckle against Sukuna's lips, feeling a lot more intoxicated than you truly are. It feels exhilarating to dance and make out with him here in the middle of the club.

Sukuna's hands are all over you, running up and down your back and groping your ass. He slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans and pulls you even closer to him, and you let your nails trail over his short undercut, smiling when it elicits a low growl from the back of Sukuna's throat.

He trails hot, wet kisses over your chin to your neck, and your breath hitches. It's new to be like this with Sukuna in public, but you can't deny how exciting it feels to have him all over you. Drunk Sukuna is clingy, you realize. He doesn't let you move away even a step. His large hands immediately squeeze your ass, pulling you to him again while his lips trail kisses over your neck and his sexy low voice murmurs in your ear,

"Need you, baby."

Your heart skips a beat. You know Sukuna is just drunk, and it means nothing, but you can't help but feel a fluttery tingle in your belly and chest at his words. You smile and grab Sukuna's chin, pulling him into another kiss to shut him up before he can say anything else that will make you spin out of control and that he might regret in the morning.

You weakly try to decline when Sukuna whispers in your ear that he wants you to go home with him. But he won't let go of you, clings to you, and kisses you all sweetly before he looks at you with a cute little pout that looks hilarious on his tattooed face. His voice is a bit thicker than usual, tongue heavy from the alcohol, making you wonder how many shots he had.

"Don't leave me alone, princess. Who knows what kind of trouble I will get into without my personal lucky charm by my side."

He keeps grinning at you and bugging you until you agree to leave with him, even if it is just to put him into bed. You let Sukuna put a muscular arm around your shoulders while his other arm pulls his twin brother to his side, and the three of you make your way outside while you hastily type a message to Nobara, telling her you are leaving with the twins.

You laugh when Sukuna throws his car keys to his brother, even in his drunk state, not forgetting about the beef he has with Yuuji over his beloved car,

"You drive, brat, but if you get even the tiniest scratch into my car, I will punch that stupid smile off your face."

You sit in the backseat with Sukuna while Yuuji drives. Or, more like, you lie in the backseat because Sukuna is on you the moment the car starts. You spend the whole drive with Sukuna lying half on top of you, kissing you deeply, with those intense deep tongue kisses that make you moan into his mouth and knead his firm ass through his tight jeans.

"So greedy, huh, princess? Don't worry, I'll fuck you until you scream my name." "Oh, shut up. You are drunk. I'll just tug you into bed and then leave." "Don't you dare leave me alone. I had some drinks, yeah, but I am perfectly fine. I can still fuck you better than any other could." He smirks at you with that challenging glint in his eyes, and your pussy throbs, your conviction wavering. Sukuna licks your neck slowly, teasingly, before he captures your lips in another deep kiss, successfully making you change your plans. Your hands slip under his shirt, caressing his hot, smooth skin, kneading his buff muscles, smiling when you hear him groan into the kiss. You go with Sukuna to his room and watch him take off his clothes, heart pounding in your chest as he turns around and beckons you over, his sexy muscles and tattoos unashamedly on display for you, and his gorgeous thick cock already half hard, waiting for you to stroke him to full hardness so you can have fun with him. Sukuna fucks you with sloppy, lazy strokes and those deep French kisses that make your pussy and your tummy flutter. You are gasping his name, wrapping your legs tightly around his narrow hips, mewling with every thrust, enjoying the drunk sex immensely. Sukuna fucks good, even when he had several drinks. The only thing that's different is that he is louder. And it's so sexy that it makes you clench around him, your eyes falling shut to bask in the sexy, loud moans falling from Sukuna's lips.

You really scream his name when you cum, and he moans yours when he follows you a few seconds later, hot thick cock throbbing inside you. Sukuna slumps on top of you afterward with a satisfied sigh, and you hum happily, caressing his neck and running your foot up and down his muscular calves and thighs.

You ask how late it is, but Sukuna doesn't answer.

"Sukuna?"

You push at Sukuna's broad shoulders only to hear a soft snore coming from him, realizing he fell asleep on top of you. You laugh and relax, letting a hand trail slowly up and down Sukuna's broad, muscular back, caressing him while he sleeps soundly on top of you.

Sukuna is heavy, but you let him sleep, grinning to yourself, feeling oddly happy, lying here under the hockey star. After a while, Sukuna rolls off you, mumbling softly in his sleep, but it's incoherent, and you can't make out any words. It makes you feel surprisingly soft for him.

You roll onto your side, too and press a soft kiss to Sukuna's tattooed shoulder, murmuring,

"Good night, Kuna. Sleep well."

You are about to get up to collect your clothes from Sukuna's bedroom floor to get dressed and then sneak out. But before you can get up, a large hand wraps around your arm, stopping you, pulling you back against Sukuna's warm, naked body.

"Stay."

Just a single word, mumbled in a hoarse, sleepy-sounding voice.

You tense up. Does Sukuna know what he is asking? He never before asked you to stay the night, and he also never stayed the whole night in your dorm. It feels like a line fuckbuddies shouldn't cross. On top of that, you don't think Sukuna is the type who lets someone sleep in his bed. You know he's already making a huge exception when it comes to you by taking you to his room and fucking you in his bed. Apparently, that's something Sukuna never did with his former hookups because he thought his room was none of their business. And now he wants you to sleep in his bed the whole night?

You know you are overthinking it, but you simply can't stop worrying that you are somehow taking advantage of Sukuna's drunk state. The sex wasn't the problem because your whole arrangement is based on having sex with each other. But this is something different. Sleeping in Sukuna's bed feels like a big fucking deal! If you sleep here, will he regret it in the morning? Will he be mad? You don't want to overstep a boundary.

"Sukuna..."

"Shhh, no talking. Just stay."

And as if he read your thoughts, he adds in that slightly slurred voice,

"I swear I won't regret it in the morning. Stay. I'll even make you breakfast."

You chuckle softly and close your mouth again, not trying to argue anymore, nor do you want to. You smile and snuggle back against Sukuna's tall, warm body, sighing when his strong arms tighten around you, and he buries his face in your neck, instantly starting to snore again, sounding so cute that it makes you grin from ear to ear. The bad boy star player all cuddly and tame.

Even after your night in Sukuna's bed and the morning after, when he made breakfast for you just like he promised, you tell yourself you can just stay friends with benefits with him.

Nobara tries to rile you up, teases you endlessly, and tries to get you to admit you have feelings for Sukuna. But you turn her down anytime, adamantly declaring you only want him as a friend. A friend who is very good in bed and who you can have sex with any time the two of you feel like it.

You think if you just say it often enough, it will be true. You will be able to convince yourself you have everything under control.

And then the accident happens.

You're in your usual spot in the stands, watching the hockey game, cheering and laughing. The mood in the arena is ecstatic because it looks like the Tigers overcame their loss two weeks ago.

You hold your breath in giddy anticipation as Sukuna steals the puck from a rival player and speeds across the ice, his gaze on the goal ahead. His playstyle is high-speed and brutal, as always. It's sexy to watch. Until two rival players throw themselves in Sukuna's way.

You gasp loudly as Sukuna crashes full speed into the two players. All three go down, slamming hard into the ice with a heavy thud and the loud clatter of their hockey sticks skittering across the ice.

You are on your feet before you even notice it, a hand pressed over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at the ice where Sukuna is lying in a pile with the players he crashed into. The whole arena is yelling in shock because their star player went down, but you only hear it as a far-away noise because the blood in your ears is rushing much too loudly as your heart races fearfully.

What is going on? Why is Sukuna not getting up? You see the other jersey with the Itadori name speeding towards the scene. Yuuji pulls one of the rival players off his brother while yelling something you can't hear. He instantly gets attacked by several other players, but Yuuji fights back angrily, punching them and pushing them away from Sukuna.

Sukuna, who is still lying facedown on the ice. He isn't moving. Panic threatens to drown you, and before you know what you're doing, you start running and pushing your way through the crowd. Nobara is yelling your name, but you don't stop to wait for her.

You feel sick to your stomach. Your heart is pounding fearfully in your chest as you stop in front of the plexiglass, pressing your hands against the cold glass. Your anxious breath fogs up the glass as you watch the whole team and the team medic rush to Sukuna, who is still knocked out.

Or worse.

Tears are gathering in your eyes, and you feel a sob finding its way out of your mouth.

Please let him be okay! Please let him be okay! I never even told him how much I like him!

That's when you see Sukuna make a slight movement, and you huff a shaky sigh of relief.

The team medic is saying something to him, and Sukuna nods softly. You press yourself anxiously against the plexiglass, watching as the doc carefully pulls Sukuna's helmet off.

Yuuji and Todo help lift Sukuna onto a stretcher under the anxious gazes of the whole arena, which is filled with fearful silence.

You are still pressed against the plexiglass, watching as they carry Sukuna off the ice. Sukuna's eyes meet your worried gaze as they carry him past you. He lifts his head slightly, looking at you with a dazed expression. A dreamy look crosses over his tattooed face, and to your surprise, he smiles at you even as his maroon eyes seem unfocused and caught in some daydream.

Sukuna smiles a dreamy little smile at you while his lips move. You can't hear what he says, but you think you can read his lips, and what they murmur is something like "angel".

You stare after him, stunned, even when the stretcher is already getting carried to the back of the arena, away from your gaze.

The game continues, but the Tigers are out of it. The shock of seeing their star player get knocked out seems to sit in their bones. The cheerful and excited mood in the arena has dimmed almost completely. You bite your nails nervously as you stand at the boards, watching the game but not really seeing anything, too lost in your thoughts and worrying about Sukuna.

He was so fast when he crashed into those two players, and he seemed so out of it when they carried him off the ice. You were relieved to see him conscious again, but the shock still makes a painful knot remain in your stomach.

You practically flee from the rink once the game is finally over. But you cannot even consider the idea of going back to your dorm. Nobara walks up to you, reaching out to pat your back.

"Hey, I'm sure he is alright. That thick head won't crack from a bit of ice."

You smile weakly at her, knowing this is her being nice and sympathetic, but you still tell her,

"I'll wait here. Maybe I can talk to Yuuji."

"Okay, you do that. Let me know if Kirby Boy is okay."

You loiter around the lobby, waiting impatiently for a sign of pink hair. When Yuuji finally walks toward you, you hurry over to him with a fearfully racing pulse.

"Is he okay?"

Yuuji smiles that sweet, reassuring sunshine smile at you and nods,

"Yeah. He scared me, too. But he just has a concussion."

"A concussion?"

You stare at Yuuji worriedly, but he laughs softly and rubs your arm,

"It's no big deal. I get one almost every season. Kuna will be fine, don't worry. He just needs to rest for a day, or our coach will kill him."

You huff, feeling like Yuuji is downplaying it, or maybe this is really the way the hockey guys are. But his reassurance makes you relax anyway.

Yuuji cocks his head,

"I'm heading to our dorm to get the car because they won't let Sukuna walk home. Do you want to come with me?"

You nod and quickly hurry after Sukuna's twin brother.

When you finally see Sukuna after his accident, you curse loudly.

He is sitting on an examination table in the first aid room in the back of the arena, in his sweatpants and Nikes and the black compression shirt he always wears under his hockey jersey. His pink hair is ruffled, and he still looks as dazed as when they carried him off the ice. A dark blue bruise is already forming around his right eye.

Your heart clenches at the sight, and you find yourself hurrying over to Sukuna and hugging him lightly before you can stop yourself.

"Oh god, are you okay?"

You pull away a bit to look at him with big, worried eyes while you caress his biceps gently, afraid to hurt him if you touch him more firmly. As if the big, broad hockey player is a fragile porcelain doll. But you can't think rationally at the moment. All you see is that Sukuna is injured, and it triggers something in you, making you feel all protective and worried over him. And scared. So scared to lose him.

But Sukuna laughs softly and smirks at you. It's a bit crooked and a bit slower than usual, but it manages to calm you down regardless. A large, tattooed hand comes up to rest on your back.

"I'm fine, princess."

But you see how Sukuna can't seem to focus his gaze on you and how he squints his eyes against the bright neon light in the small room. Even if Yuuji hadn't told you about Sukuna's concussion, you would have figured it out by now. He belongs in bed, in his dark room with the curtains closed and lots of rest.

Luckily, Yuuji is already by his brother's side, pulling him up.

"Come on, let's get you home."

You help Yuuji, the two of you taking Sukuna in your middle and leading him slowly to the car. He complains all the way about how he can walk on his own and that he doesn't want Yuuji to wreck his car. You roll your eyes, but at least Sukuna seems to be halfway okay if he can talk like that.

You sit with Sukuna in the back of the car again. Not making out this time, but instead holding his large hand in yours and watching him worriedly, checking if he is still okay.

Once you are in Sukuna's room, you help him take off his tight compression shirt and sweatpants before telling him to get into his bed. He is a good boy for once and does as you say, lying down and letting you pull his blanket over him.

Sukuna looks up at you with that same dazed smile he had in the arena when they carried him past you and he thought you were an angel. It's an expression that seems so foreign on his face that it instantly makes worry flare up in your chest again.

Your decision is made at that moment. You grab the hem of your sweater, pull it off, and slip out of your jeans, crawling into bed to join Sukuna under his blanket,

"I'm staying. I don't think you should be alone right now."

Sukuna laughs softly, but his muscular arm wraps around you immediately and pulls you against his side. You sigh and snuggle against Sukuna, placing a hand on his naked chest, feeling his warm skin and his heartbeat, which is strangely reassuring.

Sukuna's low voice sounds tired but nonetheless smug when he murmurs,

"You're really worried about me, huh, princess? That's so cute."

"You were knocked out. Of course, I am worried. If you had seen the expression on your face when they carried you off the ice, you would have been worried, too!"

"Shhh, it's okay, princess. I'm just teasing you."

Sukuna's large hand lands on yours, holding it in place right there on his chest, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as he adds in a low voice full of amusement,

"I should get injured more often. I quite like it when you get all scared for me and dote on me like that."

"Oh, stop it. You are such an idiot. And don't you dare get into trouble!"

But Sukuna just laughs that raspy low laugh as you add firmly,

"You should get some sleep now. The doc and your coach said you should rest."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it."

And Sukuna really drifts off to sleep just a few minutes later, his body and brain obviously exhausted and in dire need of rest. You, on the other hand, can't find sleep for a long time.

You lie awake in Sukuna's bed, your palm resting on his chest, fingers sprawled over his defined buff pecs, feeling his heartbeat and listening to his soft breathing. The earlier anxiety has left your body now that you know Sukuna will be okay. But something else is keeping your mind busy.

You fucked up. You have a big problem, you realize.

Because what Sukuna's little accident clearly showed you is that he means a lot more to you than you planned.

I AM SO WEAK FOR HIM!! 😭 Tipsy Sukuna made me smile so much while writing 😍 He is so clingy and cute. "Need you, baby." I would have MELTED!! Did you feel protective over injured Kuna, too? I wouldn't leave his side either 😭 Thank you so much for reading the new chapter! I am so glad that I finally had time to post it. I missed our fave hockey player so much. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet. In Chapter 09, we will see Reader accepting her feelings + there will be jealous!Reader and jealous!Sukuna. And we will finally also see Sukuna's POV ;)

[ajellybee]

Chat, the freak nasty demons are speaking to me again. NOT proof read. i literarlly slipped out the shower and the laptop fell in my hands and accidentally opened tumblr..

JJk AU, college probably, honestly. Freak frat boy Sukuna is LIVING in my brain rn. I want that. desire that. dream of that.

NSFW, MDNI go to bed,

whore sukuna(obvi), fem virgin!reader, first time, pussy got him whipped

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

⟢best friend!sukuna who's a FREAK, i mean like, new girl every week. he's always telling you the nitty gritty details too "Oh she was nasty nasty. she passed out, woke up and still asked for more of this dick"

⟢best friend! sukuna who is KNOWN for how good his dick is. It's big and he knows how to use it, and his hands, and his mouth. The whole campus hears his past girls talk as if he's a sex god fr. Girls are always asking you about him. "Oh my god! you know him right? you guys are close, yeah? could you put in a good word for me?"

⟢best friend! sukuna who always teased you for being a virgin, but never made any moves on you.

⟢virgin! reader who always came off as someone who didn't care about being a virgin. "You fuck enough for the both of us, Kuna...and like five other people too.." and at first you didn't care, but the closer you got to sukuna, the more curious you got.

⟢best friend! sukuna who could not believe his ears when you asked him to be your first. "well, I know you know what you are doing...and I trust you Kuna. but! don't feel pressured its no biggy.."

⟢best friend! sukuna who almost died and thanked every god out there. he's had the FATTEST crush of you for the longest time. Sure he wanted to take you on a date first, you are NOT just a quickie like the others, but who's he to turn down a good fuck? specially from you. "yeah I'll fuck you baby"

⟢best friend! sukuna who does not do his normal "bam bam thank you ma'am routine", but takes his time with you, peppering every inch of you in soft kisses, preparing your virgin cunt and taking pleasure in the way you taste and stretch around his fingers. He swears he saw the pearly gates when he finally sunk into you, and at that moment made a mental note to get rid of his booty call list

⟢virgin!reader who's pussy turned sukuna into a babbling mess over you. Sucking him in so well while you let out low moans so prettily in his ear. and when you whispered "ryo" so desperatly... "mmm pussy so good, augh fuck...fuck squeeze me like that and i'll- !!"

⟢best friend! sukuna who sets a new record with how fast he cums in you. it catches him more off guard than you. and oh when you squeeze down on his cock when you cum he nearly releases a second time. "fuck you should have let me hit sooner, baby"

⟢best friend? sukuna who is now thinking of all the ways he can court you now. whoring days behind! all it took was some good puss to domesticate him. "Let's take a shower and go out for dinner, yeah?" (he wasn't asking) yes he did hit again in the shower, you gave him a taste and now he's addicted.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

oh my god. i want him so bad its shameful. the ovulation is starting to get to me i am NOT your strongest soldier. I wanna make a full fic of this. Yes i forgot about the nanami one, its on the back burner now !!! i NEEED this sukuna one rn

im very open to feedback and ideas!! <333

[adetheenby]

like a LOT of shit happend with that billionare

-old racist stuff came out

-litterally treating contestants of his gameshow as subhuman, taking away their meds and underwear for some fuckin reason, lots of sexism and physical violence employies turned a blind eye too oh and a lot of people fucking got injured and rushed to the hospital

nurses who worked on it were coming out and speaking of it in an article abt how fuckin badly organized their shit was

-shitty mold lunch

-having his employee book leaked in which he says all his employees should be obsessive to work for him otherwise he wants to rid of them oh and that this is a litteral quote "no does not mean no"

-big shock that in that same company he somehow had a lot of sexual assault shit going on

-litterally put a guy in solitary confinement and coersed him to stay in solitary confinement when he started to suggest he wanted out bc it is litteral torture (he also made this guy run a maraton barefoot on a treadmill & would not turn the lights of for like a week) that whole thing technically is breaking the geniva convention (i know its not wartime and hes just Some Guy so its like legally technically not correct to say that but litterally why would you care about that in all of this)

-Ava tyson friend of his who got popular through his videos came out that she was innapropriate with kids on a discord server when it became a big public thing he promptly fired her and launched a "internal investigation"

-he also is comfirmed to be in that discord server seeing that shit and publicly kept saying he never saw it

and the only thing he made a comment on since shit has been hitting the fan is the moldy lunchable rip off he made.

heres all the links n such under the cut

cant find the videos themselves rn but heres an article bout it

this is bout the "beast games" which is that gameshow

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/08/02/style/mrbeast-beast-games-competition-show.html

mold shit is on twitter of rossana pansino i dont use twitter and i refuse to try bc the website has become impossible to use but youll find it with some googling

dont have the link to the employee handbook directly, but this guy fully read it out on youtube

the internal investigation shit is on misterbeast his twitter, once again i litterally cannot use the website and i refuse to make an account

this is the guy he put in solitary confinement speakin bout it

one again ava tyson shit in this guys video bc i will not make a twitter account you can skip through the video and see screenshots

last thing i know is up on his twitter go look for urself im not going on that site.

By the way, here's a quick update on what's been going down on the worst part of the internet this week:

Five days ago, Rosanna Pansino made a video where she opened up a package of Lunchly taken straight off the store shelf (2 months before its expiration date), and found that the cheese was absolutely festering with mould.

Not only is this absolutely disgusting, but, as Pansino points out in her video, they're selling this to kids. The young kids opening up and eating this might not know what mould looks like, and therefore won't recognise this for what it is.

A source associated with MrBeast told Newsweek to "consider the context and the source", essentially accusing Pansino of faking the video. She responded by posting the full unedited video of her opening the box.

And while officially representatives for MrBeast, KSI and Logan Paul declined to comment, two days ago Logan Paul dropped an episode of his podcast guest-starring KSI where they kinda-but-not-really responded to the video/tweets in passing, implying that Pansino was clout-chasing.

But over the past week more people have been posting their own videos of finding mould in Lunchly.

[meliciousmel13]

➛ K I L L A

paring: killer!bsf!billie x reader

warnings: smut, mentions of blood (duh), kiddnaping, cheating, mesionary, doggy, billie calls r names (slut, like a few times), mean billie, mentions of alchool, kind of angst(?), strap-on sex, fingering, r has a bf, smut written by a minor. i think that's it, please comment if you find any more! ty

wc: 4,413

SYNOPSIS: billie kills, billie heals.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: so sorry this took so long, i had exams and was also busy irl with things, after finishing i feel so fucking tired and literally everything discusts me idk what tf is wrong with me.

he was sweet at first. you swore it. he was the type to give you flowers everyday. and used to send you good morning and goodnight texts everyday. until he didn’t. you don’t know when you detected that change in him. you don’t know if he just decided to be cruel one day.

he doesn’t even hit you. is what he says. it’s true. he doesn’t. but what he does do, is manipulate and completely destroy your ego with just words.

like when he pointed out that it looked like you were gaining wight. he didn’t even have to tell you. you were like his trained dog. his trophy wife—girlfriend. like you had no use beyond your looks.

he’d always let his “friends” touch you, always try to impress them with you. point out that you were his pretty, submissive, pet girlfriend. most of them were ugly too.

was what billie says. she said that you should leave the asshole or maybe break into his house kill him in his sleep. she suggested doing it, but you always laughed it off. saying he treats you completely fine.

she always came over at your house when she knew he was there. intruding on your weekly dates and sitting on your couch like it was hers. he’d always glare at her. and you understood she could be a little infuriating sometimes and a little possessive but if henry wanted you, then he’d have to deal with your best friend too.

you met billie in 3rd grade. when you were small and new to the huge school. she approached you, and asked you to play with her in recces. you had so much in common. she loved to run, and you loved to run…

you were good together. you balanced each other out.

but she scares you sometimes—considering she has a gun, she’d always pretend to be dead. but you were immune to her little pranks now. she did them too often. you were too used to them.

you went to the bar just to get a drink or two. to get a break from your annoying boyfriend and equally annoying best friend, you loved her. really, you did. but she tires you out.

until you saw an incredibly hot boy walk toward you.

“hey,” he said, with a pretty smile, he was beautiful, you knew boys weren’t supposed to be beautiful, but he was.

“hi,” you said back, slightly looking up at him, tall too.

“think i can buy you a drink?”

you bit your lip, didn’t even think about henry, didn’t even think about your boyfriend.

you nodded, “i’m quinn, and you are..?” he asked, waiting for you to say your name.

“y/n.” you answered.

he was sweet and polite—talked with you a little to see if you were interested, not the intrusive, even-if-you-say-no-i-still-wanna-annoy-you type. told you he could drive you home, even asked for your number

you listened. found yourself in his jacked up car. didn’t even question why it smelled so awful in there (billie’s pranks made you not even question it). or why he had a shady duffle bag in his back seat.

“you want some water?” he asked you, driving away from the bar, and to the main road.

“yeah,” you nodded, taking a few sips and recapped it, placing it in the cup holder in the dashboard, “thank you.” you mumbled.

“you’re welcome.”

you don’t know exactly when you blacked out. it happened all at once almost. his hands on your body tying you to a wooden chair. when you woke up you were in a big warehouse. drowsy, quinn. on your phone, scrolling.

“what?” you say, looking up, and looking around. trying to find out why you were tied to a chair. when your gaze fell on him.

“your awake.” he smiled, “i think i used too much powder.” what the fuck?“you slept for too long.”

how. how the hell. did you get kidnapped. it was infuriating. all you wanted was to relax and have a drink. but you get into even more annoying bullshit.

he stayed on your phone for at least 30 minutes, or at least that’s how much it felt like. quinn groaned, massaging his temples and looking up at you.

“you got a charger?” he said, and you shake your head. which made him sigh even louder.

it took a while but he found a charger in his duffle bag. found a plug and sat down on the dirty floors continuing to scroll through your phone. also a creep. why was everyone you were remotely attracted to either 34 years old or a complete weirdo?

you heard the warehouse door creek, and see a dark figure creep inside. wearing all black clothes and—they were walking towards you.

they were in front of you now, looking up, you say a black mask and sunglasses with the hood of the hoodie covering almost everything. you wondered how he(?) could see.

you let out a small “mhph” and the figure tilted it’s head, going behind you and waiting for quinn to notice. he didn’t. so he hit the corner of the wooden chair, emitting a loud “THUMP” through out the large warehouse.

quinn finally looked behind him. “hey— uh, are you..?” he stood up, probably thinking the figure was also a killer? kidnapper? whatever. maybe he was his sidekick or something. you didn’t know. all you knew was that the person behind you had a knife. and it was currently on your neck.

“hey! whoaa, calm down dude. you don’t need to do that. we’re friends right?” for a kidnapper, he was pathetic. really fucking pathetic.

you couldn’t see behind you, but considering quinn’s smile, it was good. “yeah! yeah.. your nodding so we’re friends. we’re friends.” he repeated. seeing the man? woman? person? you didn’t know, walk towards him, with the knife hanging off his right hand.

you never would’ve seen it coming. all you saw was blood splattering across the walls and dripping onto the floors. you wanted to scream. but you closed your eyes instead. the scene of the knife slitting quinn’s throat. how he tried dropped to the floor and coughed blood.

the scene kept repeating in your brain and you saw it when you closed your eyes. you finally open your eyes. and saw the figure walking towards you, dropping the bloody knife to the floor and bending to your eye level.

it was sort of intimate. how his bloody gloved hands removed your gag. you breathed through your mouth for a while. swallowing and licking your dry lips. “thank you.” you mumble-whisper, he was untying you now and you didn’t know whether to be scared of him, or thankful that he just killed your kidnapper.

he untied you, took your hand and walked towards the seemingly dead body of quinn. there was a body of blood around him, he bent down and took the car keys from quinn’s dead body.

you felt safe. it was scary because you felt safe. a killer was holding your hand and leading you to a car and you felt safe.

he opened the door to quinn’s car. and you realized that he hasn’t spoken a word ever since he walked into the doors of that warehouse.

you didn’t know what to say. all you wanted to do was go home. or go to billie. anywhere that’s not here.

his driving was that to billie’s. you didn’t notice, maybe you did, your was brain too messy to think logically. of why you were in a killer’s car, and why you felt safe.

you arrived at the nearest building. a gas station. just staring at the gas station. did he expect you to get off? you couldn’t. your knees were too weak. so you just stared at him. and he stared at you. just holding the wheel and looking out his side of the window, waiting for you to leave. like he’d done his part or something.

“what?” you said dryly, “i’ll go— just gimme a little.” you sigh, and lay back on the seat. you could hear him sigh too. he bucked his hips and slid half way down the seat. just like billie did.

you both breathed for a while. until you gained the courage to leave. he drove off the second you got out. you walked to the gas station. there were 2 other cars behind you and you had blood on your cheeks.

the bell ringed at your entrance. and the part-timer didn’t spare a glance at you. you felt small. you kind of wanted to be small, you wanted to be like, six or something.

“um—” you wanted to go home. all you could think of was home, home, home and billie.

“what.” she said, still not looking up from her phone. you wanted her to see you. thinking your appearance would explain your situation without you having to move your mouth.

she sighed, and looked up. closing her phone and looking. her eyes skimmed past your skirt and hoodie and stared at your face.

she helped. gave you her phone so you could call someone to pick you up and you called billie. you knew if you called your henry he’d take two hours to get here. she helped clean up your bloody face and you finally talked.

“i ran away.” you explained, and kathryn listened intently, “i— i um—” you stutter, and she rubbed your arms reassuringly, you were struggling to find a good excuse, you couldn’t. so you told her the half-truth.

billie came to pick you up in record time, it took her 25 minutes. which was fast because the ride to here would take at least 33 minutes. probably sped up.

billie was concerned when she came, she hugged you tightly when you got out the station, mumbling “thank fuck your safe.” and “i don’t know what i’d do without you.” it was the first time you’ve seen her so scared. she wasn’t the type to panic, if she did she would hide it.

you were still shook. your back was stiff and your usual laid back position in her car turned all polite with your hands on your lap and your head towards the window. whenever billie asked something you’d reply dryly, you felt bad but what did she expect?

at first she wanted to take you home. to your own house that you own. but you couldn’t stay alone after that. it was too traumatizing. so she drove you to her house.

when you entered your nose was filled with billie. her musky cologne and her.

she took you to her room, and it was a mess. you didn’t care though, collapsed onto her queen sized bed. and tried to not pay attention to the smell, it reminded you of his car. the water, the bag. everything reminded you of him.

“do you wanna change?” she asked, and you nodded. looking around her room like it was the first time you’ve seen it.

she was holding the clothes now, expecting you to get up and wear them. you didn’t. just stared up at her.

“come on,” she mumbled, taking your arm and helping you get up. you didn’t know what happened, maybe your brain finally processed the entire situation. maybe you expecting felt safe enough to just cry. you did, you felt tears welling up in your eyes when billie tried taking your shirt off, you cried in her arms and she held you.

you let out small whimpers and hiccups of her name and while trying to calm you down she put your head on her shoulder, turning your head you saw a pile of black clothes in the corner, probably thrown in a hurry. ignoring it, you dig your head in her neck and breathe her in. her scent calmed you down.

its been 3 minutes now and billie has been rubbing you back and kissing your shoulders the whole time.

all you wanted to do was curl up in her lap and not think. you just wanted to not think for once. maybe she could run her hands through your hair while doing it. you didn’t have to ask. she took you to lay your head on her lap. and your heart ached with something you’ve never felt before, something indescribable and immensely painful. you curled up, half in her lap, half in your own, in desperate need of comfort from someone other than him yourself. for a moment, her gentle touch helped you forget.

it was peaceful. it was so damn peaceful and you wanted to cry because you’ve never felt so safe before. your knees hurt. and the way your legs were positioned on her lap actually hurt. but you couldn’t get away. you couldn’t think—you couldn’t do anything. it was like you were frozen.

but you liked it. you liked not thinking and not doing anything—it felt good. like for once you didn’t have to do anything. billie ran her hands through your hair and slowly undressed you with her eyes. she rubbed your hips and kissed your arms. it felt good and you wanted more.

“can i take this off?” she asked.

“yes.” you replied, turning around slightly to see her pulling your hoodie above your arms and off. she laid it down next to her and she gazed upon you like you were the moon and stars and her savior. you felt needed. in that moment you felt like someone wanted you, beyond just as friends or girlfriends or boyfriends.

billie finally touched you. she touched your belly first. rubbing your sides and looked at you. you felt kind of shy? her eyes made you shy. you wanted to look away. but you couldn’t. gasping, once her roaming hands touched your breasts.

“fuck.” she mumbled, and you didn’t even think of what you were doing. just focused on how good it felt, to have her on top of you—touching you. it was the sort of thing you dream of and never expect it to actually happen. but it did. it was happening right now.

“billie.” you whine-gasp as her hand slips under your skirt and lifting it up. it was a pornographic scean really. literally the things you’d see in porn. this was different though—heavenly.

the skirt was laying above your hips, revealing your pink underwear, and billie looked stuck in a haze. she sighed. it wasn’t an annoyed sigh or anything, she was in awe. you could see it all over her face—you could see what she was thinking.

one hand was playing with your nipples, tweaking and pinching. the other was just rubbing up and down your thigh. she spread your legs and your head was near the edge of the bed.

billie stopped the movements on your nipples and fully focused on your underwear, pulling them to the side and biting her lip, “you’re fuckin’ dripping f’me.” she breathed out, running her thumb up your pussy and collecting your arousal, “all this for me? hm?” you were flushed, if the room wasn’t already hot she was making it hot.

“billie.” you whined, and she tilted her head, “touch—”

“touch you?” she interrupted, “you want me to touch you? huh? my slut wants me to touch her,” she chuckled bending down your your legs at the side of her hips, she kissed and nipped at your neck, “c’mon, tell me how i should touch you.” she pulled away and grinned as you bit your lip, looking away and gripping her messy sheets.

“if you can’t say anything then how do i know where to touch you? so fuckin’ whiny.” she groaned, gripped your underwear with her whole fist and dragged her middle finger through your folds, slipping it half and inch in and pulled away before you could beg for more.

“billie.” you whined, bucking your hips and looking up at her with the most pitiful expression, pouty lips and eyebrows furrowed.

“billie,” she mimicked your whine, “can’t wait ny’ longer please js’ fuck me already.” she laughed, imitating you. she was so mean. by now you were ruining her bed sheets, your thighs were stained and her dark jeans were a mess, because of you.

she was sitting with her knees bent under your thighs, your legs were laid by her hips and your pussy had a perfect angle to grind on her stomach, you didn’t, she gave you a perfect opportunity to get the pleasure you wanted but you didn’t. you had this burning desire to be good for her. you just wanted to be good for her.

her hand was still gripping you underwear and you were wondering what she was thinking about, “billie?” you called out her name, looking up at her innocently like you weren’t spread out beneath her.

“yeah?

“need you.” you breathed out, and that seemed to wake her up. she got up from the bed and walked towards her dresser, “where are you going?” she didn’t answer. only digging through her dresser, she pulled out a box and took something from it, you just sighed and laid your head back on the bed.

“c’mere.” she said, taking your hips to her hands and dragging you to lay back on her pillows, taking one and putting it under your back, you smiled, for no reason at all, “what?” she asked.

“what, what?

“why are you smiling?” she kissed your neck, it was sweet, how she cared about you.

“nothing.” you shook your head, and looked down to find something poking your entrance, “billie.” you looked back up.

“what?” she smirked.

“it won’t fit.” you gripped the sheets.

“i’ll make it fit.” she said, and dragged the silicone across your pussy, entering her middle finger to get you ready for her. you moaned, it was embarrassing almost. she didn’t even do anything yet, “my pretty girl.” she breathed out, adding another finger and pumping into you slowly—she started to kiss your neck, and mumble filth into your ear.

“ffuck— billie!” you moaned—loudly, right in her ear. you didn’t mean to. really, you didn’t. but she added another digit in you, your brain was already a mess.

she pulled away from your neck, groaning. looking frustrated. but not at you, “you did that on purpose didn’t you” she asked and you looked up at her, before you could reply she dragged your thighs closer to her and pumped her fingers faster.

“billie— can’t—”

“can’t what? hm? slut.”

“m’ gonna cum—” you whined, feeling her fingers brush your g-spot. your swore you heard her mumble something but it was too quiet for you to hear. all you could think of was billie billie billie. it felt so good. your mind was fuzzy and you were seeing stars.

rolling your eyes back you could feel her gaze on you. you didn’t even think, just gripped her wrist and whined, “want me to stop?” she smirked.

��no! no, don’t stop. please please— billie.”

“you can’t cum until i say so angel.” she said, cruel. you whimpered as she took her fingers out of you, taking the silicone cock and angling it to your pussy, you bit your lip, feeling her rub circles on clit and rubbing her cock up and down on your pussy.

“hurry up.” you said.

“bossy.” she mumbled, didn’t even say anything back, just laid your head back on the bed and felt the tip go into you, instead of gripping the sheets you grip her biceps, “oh.” you gasp, and billie slowed down, so you could get used to the feeling to of the strap.

“ready?” she asked, and you nodded, she filled you up and you could feel the ridges of the strap against your walls, it was almost too big, you were scared at first but she took your hand and looked down at you with an almost sweet expression, you knew what she was thinking about though.

“who said it wouldn’t fit?” she said, and you looked up at her with your mouth agape, feeling her rub up and down your thighs while waiting for you to adjust. at least she was waiting. she was better than him.

you imagined your boyfriend walking into her room, seeing billie fucking you with her strap, you imagined his angry face, how you’d whimper moan into her ear, while staring at him. you wanted him to see.

billie was moving her hips and you gripped her biceps, it hurt, almost. you felt bad for her neighbors. but that was the least of your worries.

“wish you could see yourself.” billie mumbled, and pulled out, before you could even protest she turned you around, taking your hips and lifting them up.

oh, you felt filthy. she was angling the strap to your entrance and you laid your head on the pillow, turning so you could see her. you hated that you couldn’t see her.

“billie—” before you could even whine you felt her thrust into you harshly, “oh— fuck.” you moan.

“yeah? what do you wanna say angel? can’t say—” she gripped your hips and slammed into you roughly, “can’t say a thing, hm baby?” mean. she was so mean.

“wanna’ see you.” you whine, digging your head into the pillow, billie started to kiss up your back, you didn’t even have to see her you could feel the smirk on her face. every time she drives into you, your juices squelch, drenching both of you in a mix of sweat and slick.

“wanna’ see you.” she mocked, looking down, seeing a white substance cover the end of her strap, “fuck—” billie hissed, your moans and whimpers were driving her insane. your walls cling to her, squeezing her tighter with every thrust. her pace became erratic, desperate, hips snapping harder and faster.

“so fuckin’ tight,” she sighed, letting go of your hips and gripped the pillow under your stomach, “nd’ perfect.” she plowing into you and you were so close. you could feel it, brewing in your lower stomach, you didn’t want to tell billie, scared if you did she’d take it all away and make you beg to come.

“billie— can’t hold it.” you whine, feeling her hand grip your hips so tight you knew it would bruise the next morning.

“just a little more sweetheart.” she said, and you wanted to listen, you wanted to be a good girl, for her. but you couldn’t. clenching around her and gripping the pillow in a vice grip, s hard you were scared it was going to rip. you didn’t want to ruin her pillow so you let go. holding the sheets softly.

billie saw your hesitation and sighed, “you can hold the pillow angel, i won’t be—” she licked her lips, “won’t be mad.” she reassured, and you put your hands back on the pillow.

“can i come?” you were so cute. whimpering and moaning under her. she almost said yes. wanted to say yes, but she wanted to show you how much better she was making you come, than your asshole boyfriend with a micro dick and massive ego.

“no.” she replied, and you whined.

“why not.” you had to hold back a moan, just to speak.

“cause’.”

you waited, bit your lip and closed your eyes and hoped she would finally allow you to come.

“billie.” your hands clutch onto the pillow desperately trying to hold it in. it hasn’t even been a minute yet.

“you can hold it a little more, can’t you angel?” you could’ve came right there. could’ve. it was a choice, she gave you a choice. you could come, or you could wait, just a little longer.

you held it in, feeling the strap hit deeper and deeper each thrust, it hit your g-spot every time. she already knew your body like that back of her hand and he didn’t even know what a clit was.

“how would henry think about this?” billie said, hinting to what your boyfriend would think if he saw you, “seeing you like this— hm?” you hated how she made you think of him while she was literally pounding into you.

“billie.” you warn—try to, at least. but the moan right after made it really hard to be intimidating, plus the fact that you couldn’t be intimidating to save your life. having billie trail after you where ever you go was enough scary-dog privilege. she did the intimidating, you were always smiling.

“yeah? have somethin’ to say?’ she mocked. you wanted to be mad at her, you wanted to turn around and teach her a lesson—you wanted. you never did a thing.

by this point the knot in your lower belly was hard to ignore, every time you moaned, or whined and whimpered you felt it throbbing. you squeezed around the silicone tightly feeling billie struggle to keep up the same fast pace. and you finally felt like you were winning, she was getting tired.

“can i come?” you whimpered, again, praying for her to say yes.

“you can come now angel.” billie bit her lip, holding your hips and you finally let go.

“i’m cumming!” you whimpered in between moans, screams filling her room as it finally hit you, your ears ringing and vision faltering as she helped you ride it out.

you whined when she pulled the strap out of you, leaving you empty and needy. “fuck, would you look at that.” there was a pleased smirk on her face as she looked at the soaked, creamy white strap.

“how’d that feel?” she asked, like she didn’t just give you the longest and best orgasm of your life, he’s never made you come before so you don’t even have anything to compare her to.

“s’ good.” you mumble drowsily, collapsing on your stomach to the pillow she placed there when she let go of her hold on your hips.

“so fucked out.” she smiled, and your head was turned to her bedside table, seeing some blood? red paint? something—stained on it, you ignore it, it was probably because of how old the thing was.

you heard her mumble something like, “fuck, i need to clean that” when seeing where your head was directioned, she was talking about the strap, right?

[aakeysmash]

you and college!sukuna see each other at a party

college!sukuna masterlist

Going to the same college as college!sukuna means you inevitably see each other at a couple of parties you both attend to. It doesn’t happen that much, because you and him are both heavily set on sitting on your living room couch doing absolutely nothing the majority of the nights, and you try to ignore each other when you know you’re going to be in the same place out of the house. But when Sukuna manages to leave Yuuji at one of his classmates’ houses for a sleepover, his friends get a whiff of the news and drag him out of the apartment.

He does put up a fight about it, because Sukuna being Sukuna, he hates parties; even more if he has to pay for a ticket before entering. The rancid smell of alcohol mixed with sweat makes him want to punch someone. Not to mention girls always try to get in his pants, and while in the past that would have stroked his ego, now he finds himself annoyed by it. The chicks seem to be copies of each other: really short dresses, really long batting lashes, really dragged out alcohol induced words and he really doesn’t care about any of their tits pressed on his arm.

You, on the other hand, hate men who touch you on the dance floor. Your girls convince you to hit the club every time (“every time” probably being less than 3 times in the whole year) because they say you will have “so much fun”, but your definition of fun isn’t being groped by a guy you don’t even think attends your college to begin with.

Today you find yourself searching for the bar after the last guy who tried to squeeze your ass almost got kicked in the balls by you. You plop down on a bar stool and absentmindedly order a drink (of course there’s fruit in it), and while you wait for the barman to serve you, you take out your phone from your purse. You scroll on your socials, getting bored in 5 minutes, and while you softly tap on the counter with your freshly done nails you decide you had enough.

Message to: Worst roommate ever: is Yuuji home?

The message gets through but doesn’t get read. You roll your eyes, thinking he’s probably busy doing absolutely nothing inside the apartment. You feel so jealous.

“Come on man, you’ve been here like… two hours,” comes a male voice behind you. You don’t bother turning around, resorting to sipping your drink before swirling the straw around. “Just take someone home and relax,” the boy continues. You scrunch your nose. That’s a disgusting thing to say.

“You mean I’ve already been here two hours. I’ve had fucking enough. I’m going home. Alone,” someone responds, biting rough voice getting closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see someone slamming one of their elbows on the counter right next to you, and you scoot over away from them. You don’t want to interact with anyone unless they taste like sweet fruit and they’re called “passion fruit mojitos”.

“But whyyy,” the first guy asks, trying to reason with his apparently leaving friend.

“Because I got 10 pairs of tits shoved in my fucking face in the last 20 minutes,” the second one barks out, ordering a gin tonic when he spots the barman. Basic ass.

Suddenly, you receive a text.

Worst roommate ever: no. sleepin over at some kid’s

You sigh. You’re sure you’d have more fun if Yuuji dragged you into one of his latest hobbies. That’s it, you’re still going home, even if you’ll be bored to death either way. You turn around for a split second to leave a tip to the barman when you recognise the pink head next to you. Sukuna has his back turned to you, so he hasn’t seen you yet. You try to sneakily go away, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he’s having with a man you think you’ve seen him with on campus, when you tell yourself that if he really wants to go home you could go home together. At least you’re going to save the money you would’ve given to the uber. You touch his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey-“

“God wants this to be the day I sock a bitch to the ER,” you hear him grit out. His friend, you think he’s called Geto, winces. Then, still turned away, the tattooed man continues with “I don’t fucking care about your pussy, get the fuck out.”

You slap him on the back of his head.

“Is this the same mouth you kiss your mother with?” You exclaim, feigning shock.

“What the fuck?” He whips his head around and you see how his expression turns from an annoyed one to a confused one. He rolls his eyes.

“You know damn well my mother is dead,” he says. You see his friend’s eyes pop out of his sockets. This is not something you say to a stranger. “I almost broke your nose. Don’t play with me,” your almost-roommate says, one side of his mouth lightly raised, as if he’s actually disgusted about seeing you here, completely facing you. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“You should have. I would’ve had a reason to kick you out,” you seethe.

“Oh really? Then who would’ve opened the door for your sorry ass the next time you forget your keys?” He tells you, his face getting closer to yours, menacingly. The friend he still has next to him watches the scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault they’re never where I think I left them,” you mumble, frowning.

He smirks. “I should’ve known it was you when you’re the only one up here with a yellow fruity drink. Pussy,” he says, louder, to make you hear every word above the music.

“Fuck you and your basic gin tonic ass.”

He grins. “Baby, have some manners. We can’t have you dirtying your criminal record with sex in public, can we?” He says, lightly caressing your cheek with his index finger. You swat his hand away, glaring at him the meanest way you can. Meanwhile, another guy you recognise as Satoru reaches the barstool. He greets you and gives Geto a questioning look, to which the other responds mouthing “Who is this girl?”. Satoru just shakes his head, giving you a knowing look.

You get back to looking over at your roommate. “Wanna go home?” You ask him, features relaxing. You just want to go home, with or without him, and sleep until tomorrow.

He chuckles. “You’re not helping your case if you say it like that.”

You shrug. “I guess that’s a no,” you say, getting your purse and standing up, heels clicking toward the exit. When you don’t hear him follow you you turn around, and he levels you with a bored look. “Oh okay, so I guess you want the landlord to come knocking at your door tomorrow morning and say you’ll have to pay full rent since I was brutally killed by some random dude this uneventful night, all because you didn’t want to come home,” you almost scream, trying to get your words across the thumping of the bass, turning back around and resuming your walk. You already shot your friends a text saying you’ll be going back with Sukuna, anyway.

“No, wait- come on baby, don’t be like that,” he whines, rushing up his stool and following you. He waves his friends goodbye with a flick of his wrist, and you shoot them a small smile when you pass by them. You and Sukuna continue bickering while getting out of the club. He tries to grab your head and fakes bashing it against the wall, and you push him away jokingly, smiling up at his badly concealed grin. He puts one hand in his jacket’s pocket, the other one grazing your small back to keep you from bumping into random drunk guys. You don’t even seem to notice the gesture, and he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it either. Suguru and Satoru are still watching you two, albeit a little dumbfounded.

“So? Who’s the one that got big captain whining?” Asks Suguru, drinking the gin tonic Sukuna left behind. Sukuna leaving a paid drink behind? After not touching a single girl since he came this night but leaving with you three minutes into a conversation? You must be something, for sure.

“Someone he claims to be a pain in the ass,” answers Satoru, chuckling.

[hitomisuzuya]

hiiii, hope you're well. mean scara with needy bunny!hybrid reader pls pls pls?

fatui!scaramouche x bunny!hybrid fem!reader. smut. blow job. creampie. harsh degradation. mean!scaramouche. ear pulling. brief masturbation.

I hope you are doing well too🥺 Please take of yourself. writing this makes me want to write mean!archon scara😳

scaramouche knew you are in heat. he told you to be a good girl and wait for him to finish working, but you couldn't help it. you really, really, really wanted to worship him. your pussy clenched at the thought of him impaling you on his cock right here in his office.

sighing, he looked down at you on your knees underneath his desk. you are nuzzling your cheek on his thigh, your lithe little tongue sweeping out to lick the outline of his cock through his shorts. "i told you to wait for me, slut," he growled, sending a shiver up your spine and right down to your throbbing clit.

your ears drooped with arousal, your cheeks flushing as you look up at him with eager eyes. "just let me suck your cock a little, pretty please," you whined, making his cock pulse. you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation.

scaramouche put a hand on your head, moving it towards his cock. "so needy, such a nuisance. suck," he hissed, unbuttoning his shorts. he felt his ego absolutely stretch seeing the way your pretty eyes lit up.

your fingers are already scrambling to take his cock out. grasping his dick, you kitten licked the precum leaking from the head. he sighed shakily as you prodded your tongue in the slit, drool rolling down his cock and onto his shorts.

"quite teasing me, whore," he groaned, grabbing a hold of both your ears. you whimpered in pleasure as he pulled on them, keeping his other hand on the back of your head as he bullied his cock into your mouth.

"fuck, i should've used your mouth a long time ago," he moaned, his hand tightening on your ears as your mouth sucked warm and eager. "how was i supposed to concentrate with you drooling on my cock under my desk," he bobbed your mouth up and down, his cock pulsing on your tongue from how utterly pliable your throat feels.

you muffled moans on his cock, gagging softly as he hit the back of your throat. you reached between your legs and nudged your panties aside. he smirked seeing how turned on you were getting while he abused your throat, playing with your clit and pushing your fingers against your drooling hole . "don't you dare make yourself cum on your fingers," his hand tightened on your ears to remind you of your place.

your eyes were begging him to cum down your throat, but scaramouche has other ideas. you look so fucking cute whimpering with his cock stuffed in your mouth. "needy bunny sluts need to be punished," he pulled your mouth off his cock by your ears. a string of salvia connected your tongue with the tip.

"panties off, and bend over," he commanded as you scrambled to your feet. his indigo eyes followed your hands as you peeled your panties off. he yanked your shirt and your bra down off your breasts, roughly turning you around and bending you over his desk.

the full weight of his dominance made more wet pool onto your creamy cunt. your walls clenched around nothing as his hand came down across your ass before parting your folds. "what a good girl, making yourself so wet for me," you mewled as his fingers pinched and rubbed your clit, eagerly trying to grind back against them.

giving your clit a wet flick, he grasped his cock and pushed it inside of you. the way it abruptly stretched you apart apart made your toes curl, a cry of pleasure tearing from your throat as he bottomed out.

his knees nearly buckled at how good it felt to stretch you apart, fucking his cock so deep into you that your body quaked as his cockhead kissed your sweet spot. the jarring jolts of pleasure reminded you of how badly you needed it.

"does it feel good, my cute bunny slut?" he moaned, grabbing your ears and lifting your head up off his desk. your walls immediately clenched hearing such loving degradation. the sound of his hips smacking into yours accompanied the wet squelching noises his cock made as he pumped it in and out of your puffy pussy.

"yes! yes, i'm gonna cum!" you whimpered, curving your back in and pushing back against his cock. you are practically limp bent over his desk, drooling and barely able to keep up with the bursts of pleasure, your orgasm building up tighter and tighter each time his cock head burrowed against your sweet spot.

pinching your clit, one good flick was all it took to make you cum on his cock. you were sure you didn't even hear your own sob tinged moans of pleasure at first the pleasure burst so strong through you. your heats were always so hard on you. only scaramouuche knew how to take care of you.

"look at you shake," he moaned, "pathetic," despite having just creamed hard on his cock, your pussy still squeezed so deliciously tight hearing how mean he sounded. the sensation made his cock empty milky ribbons of cum inside of you.

to your delight, he left his cock sheathed inside of you as he pulled your head up off his desk by your ears again, promising that if you were a good girl and waited for him, he would breed you fuller later.

[neowinestainedress]

- so what is hyuck wearing? nothing? oh fuck me. shirtless hyuck baking oh my god I DONT EVEN WANT TO STSRY

tbh i think i pictured him with just a shirt he was wearing underneath but you know what... i love this different point of view!!!

- of course, a relationship without an actual title, with hyuck, honestly i will take anything too.

unfortunately i love this dynamic way too much and i think it shows... oops...

I'M SORRY BUT I LOVE HOW YOU SAID "here's the crucial part" ten times lmao i'm sorry for making you suffer

- I SCREAMMMMM LIKE HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD WITH THIS??? 😭😭😭 like after all the narration and you put these 6 words in one simple paragraph, i just-- IT JUST FIT AND IT FIT PERFECTLY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU SO MYXH FOR WIRTING YEAH THIS IS MY SUSDEN CONFESSION IN THE MIDDLE OF RWADINF

THANK YOU OMG AOJSOAOSA

- YALL ARE ACADEMICALLY RIVALS BUT NOT RIVALS IN ROMANTIC FEELINGS OH MY GOD BUT YES I UNDERSTAND THAT BUT GOD THE TENSION WHY ARE SMART PEOPLE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO COMMUNICATE GODDAMN

it's the way this time it wasn't even about miscommunication but about pride ahskajsa

- lemme tell you both the answer, you two want to do it together. YEAH I KNOW THE CAREER PATH IS SO PERSONAL AND INDIVIDUAL BUT since you two are working on it together and it suddenly sparks the interest, it's because the two of you work on it together.

CONGRATULATIONS! you predicted the future

- STFU YOU TWO 😭😭 the way i want this to end here cuz lets be real im not ready for another misunderstanding (which i think there wil be or im just traumatised with hits different but i also want this to be longer CUZ YOU WRITE IT SO GOOD AND I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY BUT I ALSO WANT TO FEEL THE ANGST CUZ THAT IS WHAT BUILD FOR OH GODDDD IM SO INDECISIVE

omg i really traumatized people with hits different 😭😭😭 but i've been good this time, i think i should be forgiven

- FUCK YEAH I LOVE THE EVERLASTING ACADEMIC RIVALS EVEN WHEN ROMANTIC FEELING ALREADY OFFICIALLY INVOLVED

THIS!!! i hate when rivals/enemies get together and the tension dies i needed to make sure this wasn't the case!

-MY PARENTS???? GIRL THEY ARE MY PARENTS!!!!! - SHUT UP SHUT UPPPP OH MY GODDDDD THIS IS NOT HITS DIFFERENT 2.0 I CHEERS (well hits different does get their happy ending BUT OH MY GOD TO GET IT ON THE SAME FIC RIGHT AWAY GLDHSLSHSLSHSKS GOODBYE SANITY)

wait is this a pov question or am i just stupid and you're saying you love them so much they're you're parents 😭 I DON'T ALWAYS GO AROUND CAUSING HEARTBREAK I PROMISE!!!

DON'T WORRY! i love reading about your thoughts and it doesn't matter if it comes out a year after i posted the fic, i will always enjoy reading it! i'm glad you liked it, i love academic rivals to lovers but i'm also picky with this trope so to know someone who enjoys it loved this fic makes me really happy.

SO PEOPLE GET THE DETAILS I PUT IN THIS OMG THANK YOU!!! i mean i know it's stupid because if you bias haechan this are known things and i know that's why people don't come gag in my asks or comments and be like "omg you put this" but i still have to think about it and to write everything in a way it makes sense so i'm happy when people point it out 😭 OKAY I EVEN HAVE A SCENE OF THEM CALLING THEMSELVES WITH NICKNAMES "BEAR" AND "HONEY" THAT WOULD BE SO CORNY BUT ALSO CUTEEEEEE no no i agree and i LOVE THIS OMG it's canon that that's how they have each other saved in the contacts idc

the friendship wasn't even that present at the start but i really wanted her to find a group of people so here we are... yeah lmao i kinda forgot about it and i have the profiles half done (tbh i only had in mind to post the after of haechan and the mc, but simply because i have to make two of them if i want to add the reader and it would take time) i also have to post the song project design. i'll try to post it next week!

thank you so so so much for this! you have no idea how happy it makes me to know you like my writing so much! (toxic!hyuck is something we don't talk about around here (no but seriously we came a long way lol)) love you! 💙

wave | lee donghyuck (part two)

part 1 | masterpost | full fic not split in two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

haechan: can you answer me?

haechan: i miss you : (

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I use my brain,” you reply nonchalantly.  

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

“Last week.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.”

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

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

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

Haechan’s screwed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you do—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I can’t go out with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you have a guitar, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Biscuits?”

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

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

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

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

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

“All at the same time?”

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

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

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

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

“Then take it back,” he says nonchalantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Out of the kitchen!”

“There’s not even a wall?”

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

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

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

“They’re mine? I left them here?”

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

“When?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this is nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not? You didn’t hear it, yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why do I?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I have to get on my knees?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” He squeaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want to take merits for this, too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? And what does it feel like?”

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

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

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

“Really? Your mom would bake that too?”

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

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

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

“Why are you smiling?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And speechless.”

And a bit closer.

“And grateful you’re on earth.”

And closer.

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

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

“Like running to your safe place?”

You nod. “It feels like… home.”

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

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

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

You know all the words to your song.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They do,” you retort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Period?”

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

“As if that ever stopped you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can make some.”

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

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

“Does he touch their thighs?”

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

Yeri snickers. “Ah, l’amour.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re right,” Yeri replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeri gulps, looking around to take time to answer.

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

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

“You fought a Professor?” Jaemin gasps loudly.

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

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

“Ew,” it comes out collectively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cause you deserve it?” You shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

“You and?” Jeno asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” Minjeong asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have to come up with something.

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m not.”

“Caught you!”

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

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

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

“So, you were hiding, uhm?”

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

“Am I allowed to eat it?”

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

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

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

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

“Do you confess, Casanova?” You tease.

Donghyuck smirks. “How does it look like?”

You shrug. “Don’t know, you tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I asked you first,” he retorts.

You blink. “Oh, really?

“Yeah, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what is that, love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You both laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums. “And?”

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

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

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

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

You laugh. “I distracted you?”

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

He constantly comes back to you.

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

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

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

“No come on, ask me again.”

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

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

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

“I’m not that horny,” he murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess you could say that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink twice and then mumble, “what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug, diverting the eye contact.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The sea —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhh… it reminds me of something.”

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

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

“Are you mocking me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh and he does the same.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

He snorts. “Don’t need fools gold.”

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

“I didn’t do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you be less clumsy?”

“Mhh... no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like it?” You ask.

“I love it,” he replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Never planned of stopping.”

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

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

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

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

“Hyuck, what are you—?”

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

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

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

“I know, but I want you close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he chuckles, you look up at him.

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

“I was thinking about us,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

YEARS LATER

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

“Is it true?”

“What?” Donghyuck says.

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

You quirk a brow, giving your full attention to your daughter. “Why this sudden question?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing to see tweets of people going insane over you two, but also I think it’s unfair how these strangers seem to know more about my parents than me.”

You and Donghyuck laugh. “And what do they say?"

She rolls her eyes. “That they can’t believe you hated each other and that you started dating her to distract her but ended up falling for her?”

You look at each other smirking before a tender, nostalgic smile takes its place.

“Would it be so terrible?” He asks, tilting his head.

She thinks about it for a moment and then replies. “It would be a bit embarrassing for you, Dad. But also... cute. So?”

“I’d say it’s true,” he replies, shrugging.

“Wait, so you really started dating because you hated each other?” She screams, sitting straight on the loveseat, leaning toward you with her body.

You chuckle. “We didn’t hate each other. We believed we could outdo the other. And your father did too much, as always.”

“You were miserable before me,” Donghyuck replies, tightening his hold around your waist. “I had a plan, and it would’ve worked.”

You roll your eyes. “Imagine thinking you could make me fall in love and not fall in love with me,” you say to your daughter. “I was a real heartbreaker back then.”

“You still are,” she replies, smiling. “My friends go insane every time they realize who my parents are.”

Your daughter never brags about being your child. The famous singer, producer, and dancer Haechan, and you, who had a good launch as a singer before you realized that wasn’t your world and decided to stick to be a choreographer and PR manager (well, mostly Donghyuck’s choreographer and his manager). But everyone close to her knows who she is, and it’s not easy to act nonchalantly about it.

She has heard many stories about you two. The gossip about your story running wild since you broke into the industry. But you never sat down and explained it to her, not until now.

“We still have our charm,” Donghyuck laughs.

“I think the most important thing is your love and that you might be the best parents in the world. But I’m saying it officially only if you don’t turn it into a race.”

“Us? Turning something into a competition? We would never,” Donghyuck jokes.

She rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. And you can’t help but smile thinking how similar to your husband she looks right now.

“Honey, forgive us. How do you think we’re still having so much fun after all these years? That’s how we thrive, we learned how to push each other healthily.”

“Yeah, fine, I’m glad your love story is still perfect, but seriously, no competition when it comes to me. I love you both so much.”

“Come here,” you say, patting the space in front of you on the couch. Hugging her when she sits down between you two. “You are the only thing we won’t turn into a competition.”

Donghyuck hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around you two. “We both won with you.”

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[olderman-enthusiast]

A unforgettable night pt.1

Logan Howlett x f!Reader

Summery: You lose your virginity to Logan and its the most amazing, passionate night you both have ever experienced, but what does it all mean?? Warnings: Smut, losing of virginity, age gap (reader is mid 20s Logan is late 40s) Word count: 1,073 A/N: This is just something iv been thinking about lately and had to put it into words. I like to think Logan is more of gentle, passionate and tender lover rather than a rough and hard one, but that’s just my opinion haha 💕

The rain pounded against the cabin’s windows, creating a rhythmic backdrop to the tension simmering between you and Logan. He stood by the fireplace, his muscular frame illuminated by the flickering flames, a bottle of whiskey in one hand. His eyes, sharp and calculating, met yours as you entered the room, your heart pounding in your chest. "You sure about this?" he asked, his voice gravelly, carrying a hint of something unspoken. You nodded, swallowing hard "Yes."

He set the bottle down on the mantelpiece and walked towards you, each step deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. But there was nothing predatory in his eyes when he finally stood inches from you. Instead, they softened, filled with a tenderness that took you aback. "You're not just another notch, you know," he said, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. The rough pads of his fingers sent shivers down your spine "I won't rush this."

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the intensity of his gaze making you dizzy. "I trust you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire. Logan's thumb brushed tenderly over your lower lip, sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Good," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Because I want you to remember this for the rest of your life."

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his fingers hesitating for just a moment before lifting it over your head. The cool air hit your skin, causing goosebumps to rise, but Logan's touch was warm and comforting as he traced the curve of your waist.

"Beautiful," he breathed, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you. "So fucking beautiful."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but his words were like balm to your nerves. You reached for the buttons on his shirt, fumbling slightly in your eagerness. Logan chuckled softly, taking your hands in his.

"Easy," he said, guiding your fingers back to the buttons. "Take your time."

With his encouragement, you managed to undo each button, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, covered in a fine layer of hair. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you couldn't resist running your fingers over his pecs, feeling the strength underneath.

Logan let out a low rumble, his hands moving to your jeans, unbuttoning them with quick, practiced ease. He slid them down your legs, leaving you standing in nothing but your underwear. His eyes raked over you once more, and you felt a thrill of excitement mixed with vulnerability.

"Perfect," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Absolutely perfect."

He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel his arousal, hard and insistent against your stomach. It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel so wanted, so desired. His lips found yours, and the kiss was everything you had imagined and more—fierce, yet gentle, full of passion and care. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch, while his hands roamed your body, tracing patterns on your skin. You moaned into his mouth, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support as his touch ignited a fire within you.

The moment was electric; every touch was filled with a passion that had been building for far too long. Logan broke the kiss, trailing soft kisses along your neck, moaning and whispering sweet nothings as you leaned back, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that washed over you. You could feel Logans warm breath against your skin, igniting a desire that coursed through your veins. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” You confessed you voice barely above a whisper. Logan smiled, looking deep into your eyes “Then let’s take our time. I want to explore every inch of you.” With a gentle touch, Logan guided you down onto the bed, your bodies intertwined as they lost themselves in each other.

The outside world had just faded away as the two of you lost yourselves in the warmth of the moment, forgetting everything but the rhythm of your hearts beating in sync. After what seemed like forever of Logan worshiping your body, caressing every inch of you he pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy, his eyes locked onto yours. "Ready?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, unable to form words, your heart racing in anticipation.

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand and quickly rolled it on, his movements efficient yet careful. Then he positioned himself between your legs, his cock nudging at your entrance. You could feel the pressure building, the tension stretching you open as he slowly pushed inside.

Pain and pleasure mingled, and you gasped as he entered you, filling you completely. Logan paused, his eyes searching yours, waiting for your signal to continue.

"It's okay," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Keep going."

He did, ever so slowly, kissing you deeply absorbing your moans in his mouth. You could feel the weight of him, the thickness of his cock buried deep within you, and it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

"Fuck," Logan muttered, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel so damn good."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting more of him. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of sensation through your body. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Logan," you gasped, feeling the orgasm building within you. "I... I can't hold on."

He smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Let go," he urged, his hips picking up speed. "I've got you sweetheart".

And you did, letting go of all control, riding the wave of pleasure as it crashed over you. Your body convulsing, a feeling you've never felt before but what felt like heaven. Your orgasm hitting you hard, your scream echoing through the cabin. Logan followed soon after, his own release washing over him as he continued to thrust into you, his body shuddering with the force of it.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, but you didn't mind. His heart pounded against your chest, a steady rhythm that matched your own.

Logan rolls over exhausted, side by side you both lie there together out of breath but giggling and full of smiles. He pulls the blanket over you both and wraps is arms around you to hold you close.

"Logan," you whispered, your voice filled with wonder. "That was..."

"Unforgettable," he finished for you, his lips brushing against yours "Just like you."

[ghstzzn]

sweet when you lie — park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, angst wc: 1.4k

synopsis: in which park sunghoon is your favorite coping mechanism— unfortunately, it makes matters worse.

tags/warnings: SMUT! MDNI! angst, crying (sexy and not sexy), rough unprotected sex, some fingering, one usage of the word slut, creampie, no happy ending because ew!, short and not so sweet. barely proofread! completely rawdogged <3

💭: this is sloppy and quick (just how i like it) sowwwyyy! im gonna try to release short pieces like this while i work on my actual wip list because im slow writer and i am obsessed with long fics.

it was one of those nights. the one where the tears refused to stop and your body didn’t dare move from its spot in the corner of your bed. your room was dark and it only added to the loneliness.

everything in the past few months had hit you like a truck and all it took was one more bad day to really top it off. you could reach out to a friend, one willing to be the shoulder you could cry on. but that’s not what you wanted, you were stubborn and refused to show vulnerability. this would pass. it always does.

but the tears just didn’t stop. you could drink, but then what? cry some more?

so you choose an even healthier coping mechanism.

sunghoon.

a close friend turned friend with benefits. you text him, a single are you busy would suffice, he would know immediately.

it doesn’t take long for him to respond, letting you know his eta. 

this alone is enough to make you wipe your eyes and change your outfit, ripping off the oversized tee and throwing on a small dainty tank top, not bothering with pants. you need him to get straight to the point.

moments pass and your front door is being unlocked, of course he has a key, why wouldn’t he?

a few words are exchanged, he’s about to ask about your wellbeing but you cut him off with your arms around his neck and your lips ghosting his. begging him to fuck you.

“fuck— sunghoon, please.” you groan, his fingers curling inside of you but it's not enough. it takes one look from you to let sunghoon know that you want it rough and you want it now.

he pulls his fingers out of you and unbuckles his belt, quickly discarding it along with his jeans, “so fucking needy.” 

you hum and sit up, attempting to touch him but he shakes his head and pushes you roughly back onto the mattress. 

“barely let me walk through the door before you were all over me.” he continues, crawling closer to you. sunghoon suddenly grabs your hips and forces you to flip, situating you on your hands and knees. “can’t even let me prep you because you just wanna get fucked like a slut, huh?”

“yesyes— please just..” your sentence is cut off when he roughly enters you, ripping a loud groan from your throat. he wastes no time setting a pace, thrusting into you at a quick speed.

you reach your hand beneath you to rub at your clit, but sunghoon grabs your wrist instead, pinning it behind your back and pushing your face and chest into the mattress and he slams into you.

he’s never too talkative when he fucks you, just enough to keep you wet. he knows what you like to hear and god does he know what you want. 

you’re already reaching your peak, the new position only bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “m’ cumming— ah!”

sunghoon groans, letting out a few curses as he continues to plow you from behind. his fingers dig into your wrists and he presses the arch of your back, fucking deeper into you.

not even moments later you’re clenching, thighs trembling as he fucks you hard and deep as you cream around his cock.

“fuck,” he mutters, flipping you over. you’re not even sure if he came or not, your head was spinning from being squished into your pillows like that but you manage to squeak out a small ‘more’.

he’s panting but you know better than anyone else that his stamina could last the whole fucking night. sunghoon pushes your knees to your chest and enters your cunt once more.

his strokes this time are long and deep, he's groaning softly and the pressure of his cock is enough to bring tears to your eyes— but you love the overstimulation. it’s mind blurring and that’s exactly what you needed.

he quickens his thrusts, fucking you into a mating press. you’re gasping and whimpering, tears falling down your cheek.

“so fucking good,” his face is mere centimeters from yours. he captures your lips in a rough kiss, bitting and pulling at your bottom lip. 

his lips travel down your neck, then to your chest. everywhere he goes— he’s biting and leaving marks. the only times you’ve ever kissed him, it was rough and desperate. you wonder for a moment if you would get a chance to steal soft kisses from him.

that thought is ripped away when he sits up again, fucking into you breathlessly. a loud groan escapes your throat as the head of his cock is knocking against your cervix, painful but in the most delicious way possible.

you’re already cumming around his cock again, and he’s quick to follow after you after a few sloppy thrusts.

this continues a few more rounds, you’re insatiable— more than usual. sunghoon doesn’t mind though, nor does he question it, as long as he gets to fuck the life out of you.

he’s panting when he finally pulls out of you, you’re finally spent. of course, he could go again, but he can’t literally fuck the life out of you.

sunghoon plants a chaste kiss onto your knee and sits up, he stretches his body and rolls his neck to release any tension. his forehead is covered in sweat and he uses it to push back his hair. he exits your room and you sit up, cringing at the way your sheets stick to your sweaty body, 

you sit up against your headboard, you’re already sore and your cunt is pulsing from the past hour of abuse it went through.

tears form in your eyes and you almost get angry when they fall. why couldn’t it wait until sunghoon had left? the thought only forces more tears out of you and now you're a whimpering mess. 

sunghoon returns with a few wet wipes you keep in your bathroom. you wipe at your eyes and bite down on your tongue to control the tears, they don’t stop but they do slow down.

he’s wiping you down with care, it makes you cry more. sunghoon notices of course, but the poor boy doesn’t know what to do. he’s seen you cry— but when his cock was down your throat or if you were drunk and incoherent.

the soft touch of his hands as he cleans up the cum spilling onto your thighs makes you wish it was something more. that he’d stay and hold you.

everytime you’ve thought of sunghoon in a way thats more intimate than a fuck buddy, you’re usually quick to empty yourself of those thoughts. he’s nothing more and you both know that. he has commitment issues and you have baggage, that’s been made clear— especially tonight with the amount of tears that’s been spilled.

he wants to ask if you’re okay, he’s almost having trouble ripping his eyes away from your watery ones.

you tell him to leave, that you’re okay to take care of yourself and your soiled sheets. but god you almost need him to stay. 

sunghoon feels awkward, he does care about you but he’s even more careful to not cross any lines. he’s aloof, and usually stone cold but he’s not a monster. he can’t blur the lines for you.

he can tell you’re an emotional wreck right now and it leaves him confused.

stepping away from you, he clothes himself without a word, he hands you the oversized shirt you changed out of earlier before he came— he helps you put it on.

your chest hurts. you need him in a different way now, but you can’t have him.

you can’t have each other.

“just- just go, i got it.” you mutter, legs trembling as you stand up to walk him out. sunghoon feels horrible leaving you in a state like this, but he really can't stay. 

“sleep well.” he quietly says before exiting your apartment.

you nod, head leaning against your door, “mhm. get home safe.”

and with that, your front door is shut and you’re once again clouded with every emotion from before. a new one added to the mountain of issues, yearning for a boy you know you couldn’t have. a silent promise to each other that you would never break the pact you made.

use each other and nothing more.

do not repost or translate please.

[pedge-page]

Nobody Knows My Girlfriend is a Werewolf

Joel Miller x Werewolf F!Reader

Here's my late halloween contribution!

Warnings: monster sex, werewolf!reader, brief rimming, ball nipping, oral m!receiving, breeding kink, battle of dominance

18+ ONLY

- - - -

‘HeY! Tommy—shh!—no sorry not you I’m just—fuck, stop that!”

Burying the receiving end of the phone into his shirt, Joel puts his finger to his lips to shush you before shoving your clawed hand away. He puts the speaker back on his ear. “Sorry we—“

A strong growl rumbles below Joel.

“You got a dog or something?” Tommy chuckles on the other end.

“Uhhh--“ Joel looks down at you, now on all fours and nudging his clothed sack with your pointed snout. “StoP! Shit--“ he tries to push your nose away but you keep coming back, inhaling deeply through your blackened sniffer with heightened senses. You let out a low howl from your throat of approval, pawing at his jeans now to get them off. “Y-yeah— I mean no! We’re watching a friend’s dog—“

“You gonna keep it?”

“Wh-no. She’s being a —very-bad-dog!” He enunciates at you. “I’m gonna tell them she can’t play here anymore when she’s like this.”

You scoff, knowing deep inside your wolf brain he’s full of empty threats. 

If you really wanted to annoy him, you’d crush his phone under your foot, pin him down, and force you needs onto him. you'd actaully done that before, only to wake up with little memory next to a Joel who looked like he got hit by truck.

You were actually being a VERY good girl tonight given the circumstances.

He pushes you away with finality, walking away towards the bedroom.

You should try to behave, but its so difficult once this shape takes form. It's like asking a kid on halloween to wait to open candy until he's out of his costume and washed up for bed. you couldn't communicate with him, your wolf-like vocal cards unable to form words. But your gestures lead to pretty obvious intentions, and Joel was not getting it one bit.

Luckily, he isn’t prepared when you pounce on his back, making him grunt an “oof!” And falling flat on the bed.

“Joel?” Tommy asks, concern laced in his voice from the other end of the call.

“Shit—Yeah I’m—alright…stubbed my toe.”

You flip him around like he’s nothing. In your current state, he actually does weigh nothing to you. He tries not to yell as you start literally tearing his jeans off, the shredded denim falling by your side.

He coughs, trying to play it cool as if some monster didn't just rip all his clothes off with a single swipe. “I’m gonna have to—“ your sharp teeth pull down his boxers, revealing his rapidly hardening cock. A devilish grin spreads across your elongated mouth, salvia pooling in drops and falling to his stomach.

“Don't!—F-FUck!” He yelps as you wrap your sticky, long tongue around his member, a full 360 covering from base back up to the tip. Your warm breath is fanning his mushroom tip as your tongue jerks him off, granting you a hum of approval. Joel’s eyes go a little crossed, leaning back into the pillow and feeling himself float. “Tommy—No I’m not getting off right now—“ he furls his brows, unable to put his eyes on you and instead, pushes his palm along your furry forehead, knees digging into the matress trying to get away from your grip.

You growl again at his profuse denial of you. 

Shredding his shirt off as well, your leathered paws glide roughly over his chest and soft stomach.  You lick over his nipples, down to his naval and soaking his happy trail with slobbery kisses before returning to suckle his cock easily in your mouth.

In human form, Joel’s girth is impossible to take in one go, leaving you often choking and having to jack the rest of his member with your other two hands. But when you’re in wolf form, with your now larger frame and more importantly, longer chops, he fits just perfectly without any trouble. You had gotten pretty good at avoiding scraping with your larger teeth, instead now pressing your twitching nose deep into his pelvis while his cock breaches your throat heavenly. He closes his eyes, arched up in bliss and forgetting his brother on the phone.

“Tommy—I’m—not feeling great… this dog…I gotta—I’m—“

You flips him over again to his face, your tongue slitting between his ass cheeks and gliding over his taint. Joel lets out a shocked whine when you prod at his hole, glazing over it until slick from your saliva coats his entrance enough to slip the very tip inside. 

“‘Mgonnahavetocallyouback—“ Joel smashes the end call button with stumbled fingers. 

“You’re not putting anything in my ass tonight,” he groans as you lap at his entrance. 

You snap at him angrily, nudging his balls with your nose again. He feels your teeth nip along them as gently but hungrily as possible, hoping he’ll finally take the hint.

“Do you want me to fill you or not?” He asks, turning over and tossing his phone.

Your tail wags excitedly, fast panting jiggling your belly.

You lean back, spread your legs, as two clawed fingers spread your hairy folds. He can see it glistening with hormonal juices even with the slick fur around it. You lazily roll your paw in circled motions, a general amount of your wolf pussy juices dribbling down below and fillinig the room. Tongue lolled to the side with a heavy look in your eyes, your quick breaths dry you out, licking over your chops over and over again as Joel positions himself between your legs, his leaking cock in one hand.

“Ugh—wait—“

He reaches behind him to fish a few viagra’s, knowing even he will tire after a few round of half dozen, but you’ll be needing his seed pounded deep into your womb for at least 15 times tonight.

He mounts you like a dog, one foot propped up on the bed while the other steadies on his knee. “You gonna be a good pup tonight?”

You shake your head no teasingly, spreading yourself wider for him.

“No? How else am I gonna fill ya with a litter?”

You whine out dramatically, pleading with him. He keeps slapping his dick along your slit, giving himself a good warm pussy soaking without actually doing you any favors. “Not sure you’re worth breeding with pups since you’ve been so—“

Your jaws snap shut with a vibrating growl. One whole paw wraps around Joel’s waist as you hoist him towards you, his dick finally penetrating your walls. You let out a delicious howl, using him to fuck yourself. 

“HEY I’m not—shit baby—not a fuckin—toy!” It’s so easy for him to get lost in your cunt, internally much warmer and almost sucking him back in for more. You’re probably meant to take another werewolf’s cock, a werewolf’s knot, something proportionate, but you always go feral for Joel. And Joel’s a blessed guy down there. You enjoy the fact that you can be stretched wide in human form, but needing no preamble in wolf form.

And wolf or not, Joel Miller has breeder balls. The scent alone of his seed swimming inside them sends you into early heat each time, leading to nights like this where you’re biting at his sack then pinning him down until he dumps load after sticky load into your womb.

He doesn’t have a knot, but having human cock in werewolf pussy has its perks. Like how he can push deep inside, his balls snugly pressed against your entrance until they slip inside too. The two of you groan lowly as he ruts himself inside you. Your walls practically swallow his cock and balls all in one, refusing to let him pop them back out. Warm and wet, you can feel all of his twitching inside you, ready to give you those pups you’d been begging him for. Whether he understood that or not from you, it didn’t matter.

Joel grips your fur tight as he splatters his cum inside you. Maybe this time, it’s deep enough that it’ll take.

Even so, you’ve got the rest of the night to find out.

- - - -

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[manticore-fangs]

Blablablaaa schlatt fucking his kids babysitter

im sorry i havent gotten around to this.. but since i just got back into writing im loving this.

cw: breeding kink, stomach bulging? praise, f!reader, lmk if i missed any more! (i did not proofread or betaread)

schlatt shushing you and positioning you into full nelson, putting your hand over your mouth; trying to cancel the sounds that come from you.

"cmon toots, gotta be fuckin' quiet or we're gonna wake the kids." he says while thrusting up into you, hitting the perfect spot. you whimper out. "i can' schlatt, its a lot- holyyyy fuck..."

he thrust practically rough up into you even though he's trying to keep you quiet, almost like he doesn't care if you make the filthiest sounds.

you rest your head against his shoulder and began kissing his jaw, trying to muffle some of the noises at least. he starts dirty talking you, you swear he's trying to knock you up with his thrusts and his words.

"fuck toots. should've had kids with you instead of her. pussy's clenching on me so fuckin' tight- jesus- she wants my cum doesn't she? i know she does cause every time i mention the thought of breeding you she clenches up on me."

you whine and nod your head. "fuck- of course i am, love the thought of you getting me pregnant jay- love it s'fuckin' much." you look at him as he smirks, than he forces you to look down at where the two of you connect.

the schlucking noise coming from your pussy fuels you, you swear you can see an white ring forming around the base of his cock. schlatt starts dirty talking you, after the groaning and whines that come from his lips.

“shit doll- your so swollen. look at your little tummy toots, look at how its full with my loads. gonna be stuffed with babies and cock. gripping on my cock so good- jesus toots really gonna fuckin' milk me huh?" drool starts flowing down you lip and schlatt licks it up, then spitting right back into your mouth.

"you can take it doll, take my loads- shit your stomachs gettin' pudgy with every single load i knock up into ya'. i knew you were a good fuckin' girl, thought of this every time i fucked up into my fist."

the thought of him fucking his fist and wasting loads of cum makes you whine, you really wished he fucked his semen up into you, maybe you'd already be pregnant by than with his kid.

"y-you fucked your fist thinking of me? fuck thats hot.." your mind goes blank and all you can think about is schlatt just fucking a fleshlight and dumping loads into it, even though he didnt mention it- the thought still riles you up.

"oh fuck yeah- shouldnt have wasted those loads onto my hand, could've been fuckin' you so good like this." schlatt hisses through his teeth when he cums again but pushes through overstimulation, wanting to make your pussy take him.

"your womb is gonna be filled with kids, so many kids toots- fuck yeah- gonna make you a mommy, shit- your already a mother to my kids anyways, your gonna give them a sibling right? yeah- i know you will." he sees tears roll down your cheeks, watching as you sob from his talking and wanting to be pregnant with his kids.

"yeah- i wanna give them a sibling, please jay- lemme give them a sibling- fill me with your cum, ill do anything. really! ill do anything for your come." you put your hands together like your praying to god, begging for schlatts cum.

"jesus- i feel you clenching up, your gonna come on me huh? yeah- i know toots i know." he nuzzles your head than kisses the top of your head multiple times as you finally cum after three times while schlatt loses his rhythm and comes one more time in you before halting.

"did so good doll, holy fuck- not gonna pull out wanna make sure my cum takes." you both laid there in the same position for awhile. schlatts hand resting over your slightly pudgy stomach; slightly pushing it which makes you whine.

a week later, you look down at the test with two lines.

[rsventhesecondd]

headcannons, nnn !┆part two

╰ • → Featuring . Hayato Suo as your FUBU  ! ╯

☁️┆ ⤿ request by  @anon 👻 ༺  ╰ ღ WBK :  requests open  ╯🦢

HAYATO SUO as your fubu — head cannons ! •

warnings . contains nsfw , fluff , all characters used are aged up to 18 , f!reader + not proof read yet . note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.  ๑❛ᴗ❛๑ authors note . this is slightly rushed since I had to do something in the midst of editing this draft , but nevertheless— please enjoy reading !

fubu!hayato , who fucks you in the most ridiculous places. Behind a random dark alleyway , inside a bathroom during a party your friend hosted , and everywhere else you could think of.

" W-Wait, what the hell Hayato! We're gonna get caugh— " He cuts you off with a kiss. "Don't worry [name-chan] , nobody really goes here. Atleast for now" Suo assures with his signature smile, a small glint forming in his eye.

fubu!hayato , who knows your body more than you do. He knows which buttons to press , that spot that makes your head turn back from the pleasure, how you act when you're close, – eyes rolling back. He's fully confident that he's probably ruined your future experiences— well if you'll have one other than him.

"What about here? How does it feel?" He questions grazing a a specific spot, causing you to turn your head back– a moan in response. "Do tell me, pretty girl. Remember, close mouths don't get fed" He added, curling up his fingers in the process.

fubu!hayato , who's such a sadist, getting turned on by your humiliation, begging him to fuck you raw— your whimpers when he angles his hips to reach that spot, or when you call out his first name. You're just too adorable for him, how could he refrain from teasing such cute girl like you?

"The ropes aren't too tight, is it [name-chan]?" He asks in a slightly worried tone. He wouldn't want to hurt his precious doll too much. " No-no.. , " You said, quickly shaking your head. —" hurry up. hurry up. " "Oh? Aren't you a needy one." He teased, gliding his fingers from your clit to your entrance. "Look [name-chan] , I've barely touched you, and you're already so wet." He says with the same tone, slightly laced with an amused one.

fubu!hayato , whos has such a pretty cock— slightly above average ( or not ) , 7 inches long , 7.62 inches when hard. 3.47 inches wide, trimmed , circumcised , curved lightly to the left– and he uses that as an advantage to hit all the right spots. His pretty flushed tip is #EOA6b9 pink, shaft is a creamy #E4D5B4 beige. 2 distinct veins with the longest ranging from the base to the tip on the middle right side, he's sensitive the most there. Excretion is macaroon cream, and when he does, he lets out a soft groan.

" Have you ever thought about how you have such a pretty cock? " You said, tracing around his veins as he shivers, his lips tugging into a grin. "How.. bold of you [name-chan] , " He mutters out out with a groan; amused by your words, almost.. flustered? "I've never really thought about it.. like.. that"

fubu!hayato , who isn't really much of a head pusher or throat fucker, letting you do as you please. And when your tongue glides over his sensitive tip to his veins, he simply just pushes his head back. He really isn't a type of person to curse out so openly, even under a lot of pleasure; but when he gets too stimulated, he let out a sound that is in between a groan and whimper, caressing your hair ever-so slightly.

"Mm— you're doing so good, [name-chan]" He says, letting out a breathy exhale as you kitty lick his tip.

He's so sensitive, but it takes more than just a few minutes to make him cum.

fubu!hayato , who just loves tasting you all over— trailing kisses everywhere. Your neck, shoulder, spinal cord, from your abdomen to your inner thighs, whilst leaving a few marks in the process, letting out a loud pop as he takes his lips off your bruised skin — he just can't get enough of you!

"Ah, I can't seem to get enough of you, [name-chan] , " He says, placing your index and pointing finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. "You're just.. too addictive; even for me" He says against your ears, licking your earlobe.

fubu!hayato , who always leaves fights unscathed. He seems to be the type of person who dislikes being scathed, but when it comes to you leaving both love and bite marks all around his skin, fingernails scratching his back as he rams in your pent up hole— he isn't complaining. Instead, he encourages you to make more.

"Remember to breath. If it ever gets too stimulating, just bite down as hard as you can." He whispers in your ear, shoulders close to your mouth. "W-Wouldn't it leave marks? I thought you didn't like being scathed–" You said, breathless. "Hm, I don't. But when it comes to you, I'd rather you add more." He retorted. If someone does indeed see him without his Quipao, those subtle scratches all over his back— bruised neck and shoulders.. then, he'll just make up some sort of excuse.

sincerely, raven ! — requested by anon 👻 ╯

[leclarifies]

off the grid - III

✰ max verstappen x !driver reader ✰

summary: you strived for nothing but perfection. nothing less was expected from you. being a female formula one driver made it even harder for you to make mistakes. you figured that dating max, your biggest rival yet, wasn't a mistake...right...?

genre: kinda slow-burn? mostly angst, eventual fluff at the end.

wc: 5.3k

a/n: hi, i have been VERY busy HAHAHA. not proofread or checked for grammar mistakes bc i wanted to push this part out asap, please excuse any spelling mistakes. thank u so much for reading

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"(monaco) oklahoma, you made a man out of me." - lany, 'cowboy in l.a'

all you remembered was the screaming.

the glass shattering.

your mother reaching out for you as you curled up into a ball on the floor.

you had your hands covering your eyes, you were just 16 after all.

"you're insane! we promised not to fight in front of our child, now you're throwing things at me?" your mother had yelled, you squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting anything to do with it.

"if you were the one fucking men behind my bed, then i wouldn't be throwing shit at you!" your father retaliated, throwing another glass that narrowly hit your face.

why was this happening to you?

"if wouldn't have cheated if you just paid attention to this family falling apart for once!" your mother had left your side to go and physically fight with your father.

you were in the corner of the room, back facing them as you endured all the fighting.

"stop it! i hate you guys fighting, STOP IT!"

when was this going to end?

a gasp escaped your lips as you sat up from the nightmare. it's been happening a lot recently.

your throat was dry, sweat dripped down your forehead as you assessed where you were and what was happening.

there was a indescribable feeling that specific nightmare gave you, and you couldn't place your finger on it.

maybe it was when all of your childhood trauma started, the first ever fight you had witnessed from your parents, or maybe that was when you realized that you chasing your dreams was a little heavy on the family expenses.

you didn't know.

all you knew right now was that you hated the way it made you feel, how it made your skin crawl, how it raised goosebumps on the nape of your neck.

"are you alright?" max's soft and sleepy voice emerges from his bedroom, and that's when you finally recognized where you were. he had heard shouts of distress, knowing that it was you in another nightmare.

you turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, his soft blue sleepy eyes that were flashed with concern and worry. words were stuck in your throat as you tried to get them out, but all that came out were pathetic sobs.

you curl up in a similar position that you once knew all too well, and sobbed while hugging your legs. max was quick to jump to your side, stroking your head as he usually does and asks you what was wrong but the words wouldn't come out. a mixed feeling of regret and self-pity bubbled up in your chest as max captures you in a hug.

all you could do was sob in his shoulder.

"it's okay, i'm here. nothing can hurt you anymore. i'm here," max spoke softly as you tried to come down from the nightmare.

"i-... max—"

"shh, it's okay. i'm here, you're okay."

you didn't want to be a burden to anyone anymore, and tonight, you were feeling everything like being a burden to everyone.

"her expenses are getting out of hand, we cannot keep fueling her karting career if this goes on," your mother had been whispering under her breath but you could hear her, hiding behind a wall. you freshly turned 17.

"she is chasing her dreams, i am not letting you rip that away from her," your father sternly spoke to your mother.

"she is nothing more than a burden to our expenses, can't you see? she will never get far in karting, women never do. stop fueling her delusions like this, it's not good for anyone or anything," your mom interjected again as she throws the bills into the kitchen counter.

you never knew that your mother had felt that way about your karting career. it hurt.

more than the comments of the boys on the grid.

because at the end of the day, even your own mom didn't believe in you.

why should you believe in yourself?

"you are a cruel woman. how do you think she'll feel when she hears that from her own mother?" your father had reprimanded your mother, his eyes sharp and his tongue even sharper, "why can't you believe in your daughter for once? does it cost you money to be supportive?"

"in this case, yes! she is draining the expenses and you know it," your mother growls, just loud enough for you to hear.

god how you wished she understood how you felt.

you had fallen asleep in max's arms once again, maybe the third time this week. max never had the heart to wake you up and leave your side after a particularly bad dream, so he would always move you to lay on top of his chest and sleep with you on the sofa.

you stirred awake for a bit when you felt him move you.

"max..?" you mumbled, your eyes barely open but planted a soft, chaste kiss on your forehead. it fluttered something in your sleepy stomach that you couldn't quite place.

"sleep."

"you can always go back in your room," you slurred your words from the tiredness from the emotional draining you had to do earlier but he shook his head gently, saying no to your suggestion.

"sleep."

"but—"

"sleep, schatje."

you woke up the next day to max's hushed voice talking, he sounded quite irritated. it sounded like he was fighting. none of the words made sense to you until you finally started waking up.

"—like i said kelly. i want nothing to do with you anymore— you cannot use p as leverage. i'm happy now..." max's hushed voice trailed off, you fluttered your eyes open to see that he was sitting up and you were laying on his lap.

you sleepily look up at him before he smiles at you, focusing back on his phone call, "i have someone else now kelly, if you can't accept that then it's your issue to deal with," he mumbled before shutting off the phone, finally giving you all of his undivided attention.

"kelly giving you trouble again?" you ask, sleep laced in your voice, stretching a tiny bit, he pat your head twice and nodded.

kelly had been borderline harassing him, almost a year later and begging to take her back. maybe she finally realized how hard her life was once she couldn't mooch off his money anymore.

"just the usual, i can't be arsed to deal with her."

you sit up and look at max apologetically, "did i give you a lot of trouble last night? i'm sorry for bothering you again, i told you i would be able to handle it by myself."

max rolled his eyes sarcastically, really not minding and liking the way he had to take care of you and how you naturally drifted towards him for comfort.

"i told you, i want to take care of you. you're not a burden to me, you are perfectly fine just the way you are," max had said, while he was talking he had stood up right in front of you and held both of your hands.

"i just don't want to feel like i'm burdening anyone anymore, i just—... i hate it," you look up at him, "you understand how i feel right? i just don't want you to feel—"

"you're doing it again."

a sigh left your lips and you look away from max's blue eyes, "look at me," he tells you softly, finger hooked underneath your chin to make you look at him.

"you're doing okay, you're fine. i am here for you. you're gonna do great this season," max had told you words of encouragement, "i am so proud of you. just do your best. i will always be here to support you."

"thank you max."

"you're welcome schatje."

"this question is for y/n, how do you feel coming into this season of formula one? your third year and it has been a fabulous ride with you in the red," the interviewer had asked, you were elected to be on the panel for media interviews this time around.

you put the mic up your mouth and spoke, "i feel great, helping ferrari get their constructors' cup after so long did help with that feeling. charles also had a hand in this, so i won't take all the credit. i do wish to win the driver's championship this year— that's if charles lets me," you finish it off with a chuckle as you glance at charles who was on the left of you.

charles gives you a teasing look which you roll your eyes playfully to.

"next question is to max," the interviewer smoothly moves over to max who was to your right, you glance at him before listening to what the question was, "how is your car after testing season? do you think you guys might be able to fight for the constructors' cup this year? why or why not?"

"i think the car is miles better than last year, i think we have a good shot in winning the constructors' cup this year— no offense to the two ferrari drivers to the left of me," max gives you a glance as you both lock eyes, you swiftly look ahead and to the panel of interviewers.

the interview was shortly wrapped up as you guys were dismissed to head home for the night. third day of testing had finally finished and you just had enough of the media duties for today. having to film content for ferrari socials as well.

it was almost routine for the two of you guys to walk to your hotel and just yap to eachother for about thirty minutes of the walk, as you were wrapping things up and gathering your things in the motorhome, charles walks in and greets you.

"you going home with verstappen tonight?" charles winks at you as he approaches you and stands next to you, you scoff and nod, "you've been spending a lot of time with him lately and a small birdie tells me that you also live in the same apartment as him."

"we've been living in the same building for almost a year now charles, where have you been?" you joke with him as you zip up your dufflebag and carry it on your shoulder.

charles just laughs as your response and shrugs, "you guys getting closer? in that sense, if you know what i mean," he wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh and shake your head, knowing everything between the two of you guys was entirely— maybe not entirely but they were mostly platonic.

"you are worse than the media pen charles, really," you laugh as you wave him off, wanting to retire for the night. now you knew why charles asked if you were going home with max or not, he was waiting for you outside of the motorhome.

you smiled at him and he smiled at you, motioning to the exit as you followed close behind him.

throughout the years of spending time in his apartment, you had slowly but surely opened up about things that have happened in the past that still haunted you to this day. max did the same. telling you similar stories from his childhood that he fortunately had gotten over as the years went by.

but they were still scabbed scars that you kept picking on, making them bleed red every time you remembered.

it had barely been a decade since you escaped your childhood home, filled with fighting and violence from your mother.

max was there through the countless nights of nightmares, always holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

you always hated those nights.

not only did you feel like a burden to max, but you felt as if you were burdening the entire world.

no one should see you in that state.

smack!

the sound of the slap rang through the air as you protested your mother not letting you leave the house.

"you are not going to your silly races anymore, you are a girl, y/n. act like one," your mother had sternly reprimanded you, but you only glared at her in response, not being able to say anything. knowing that if you did, sobs will come out and your mother would make fun of you.

"just because me and your father divorced, doesn't mean i'm going to support this stupid delusion of yours going into formula one, never," your mother had continued as she dragged you by the shirt into your room, "now sit there and think about how pretty you're going to dress up when you go to tonight's party."

the door slammed shut in your face.

you called your father of course and getting you out of your mother's house was a hassle, your mother was refusing entry to your father because it was not his day of visitation and your father was trying to force himself in because it was race day and you were due there.

it was your debut in formula 2, and your mother had managed to make it hell for you. first race and you had tears in your eyes because what you had to go through in your mother's home.

your debut in formula 2 wasn't smooth, nor was it easy. but you had your father there at least, cheering from the sidelines. it was tough enough that the f1 academy didn't exist at this time, only being able to progress through to f1 to actually compete with the nepo babies that surrounded the paddock.

"you okay?" max had stopped in front of you, you blinked plainly before focusing on his blue eyes, you bit your lip, feeling guilty. he was probably talking about something and you were not listening.

"uh, yeah. sorry, i was just in my own head there," you smile slightly at you, "were you saying something?" your brain had been running completely on autopilot, just walking wherever max was walking.

max looked at you that said it all.

"stop thinking about her, she's not worth your time. are you really gonna let her ruin your days in f1?" max crossed his arms in front of his chest, "you told me that's what most of your dreams were about, she terrorizes your dream but you cannot let her ruin this for you."

"it's easier said than done, max," you look up at him sadly before looking away from his gaze, you hated the way he looked at you when he knows what you're going through. as if he could see through the tough exterior you built for yourself.

max gently took your hand and caressed it.

this was what you meant when it was mostly platonic.

"look at me— look at me when i'm talking to you, y/n l/n."

you gently tore your gaze away from the city skylines and look up to lock eyes with his steely blue eyes, they were like the sky. you just couldn't look away sometimes.

"i believe in you, okay? you have been a wonderful driver the two years you've been in formula one, do you understand?"

you nod at his encouraging words, not knowing what else to say. the words lost as they reached your mouth.

"you have achieved so many things in your rookie year that so many people in the sport can only dream of doing, have a little faith in yourself and in your skills," max gently squeezed the hand he was holding, "hell, you even beat me to the constructors' cup last year and the year before that—"

"charles helped—"

"do you always have to discredit yourself when it comes to your team's achievements?"

you could only sigh when he said that, you genuinely believed that you didn't deserve to be here. that someone much more talented did, not realizing that you indeed do have the skills, that you just had to give yourself more grace.

"yeah, that's what i thought. let's go back to the hotel and relax, okay? you deserve it. sometimes being in the paddock for too long can mess you up," max says before tugging you along back to the hotel.

"radio check," anthony sounded out from the garage, you were ready for this race. you were always ready for a good race.

"loud and clear," you say as you sat in your car, starting front row next to max. taking pole was easy in monaco this time round.

"okay y/n, stick to plan a. don't take unnecessary risks. just play it safe, defend, and bring it home," anthony had reminded you, you hum a response before focusing completely on the race.

fred had informed that they were going to prioritize you this race, charles has been having engine problems since free practice and he told you that it was okay for you to take the lead on this one, not having much hope on his car seeing the mountain of problems it had caused him this weekend, but he was still willing to try. placing himself p4 on the grid.

"welcome to the monaco grand prix this weekend, as we see l/n on pole, verstappen p2, lando norris p3 and charles leclerc p4. merely seconds from the start of the race, it's lights out and away we go!"

you booked it from lights out, pedal to the metal when you saw the red lights go off.

max was always resilient when it came to racing, even though he had a soft spot for you (which he will never admit outloud), he still respected you enough to still think of you as a competent driver and would never give you an easy win.

max was still as aggressive as ever, always taking the chance to fight for that spot for p1. but this was your home race and you were going to die before you let max get first place easily.

lap after lap, max tried to contest the your lead, but you were smart, conserving your tyres when you didn't need them as much and pushing them to their limits when you did need them.

"we're gonna have you box together with charles," anthony had informed you through the radio, but you interjected.

"can we box when the red bull boxes? i don't want to take the chance of us losing this lead when we have it in the bag," you told anthony but he wasn't having any of it.

"just trust us, y/n. we have this. box with charles next lap, then fight for p1 again. they're going to have to eventually box too," anthony rejected your idea so you followed the team's lead and did exactly that.

charles had climbed and overtaken norris and helped you defend from max, being aggressive with max meant that he had less aggressiveness to put on you, which made it perfect for you.

"and ferrari has decided to double box against l/n's decision to keep pushing, letting max through to p1, whilst the ferrari duo now sits in p4 and p5."

lando was ahead of you, alongside george who had managed to take p3 while you boxed, but you had the advantage of heating up hard tyres and overtook him easily.

overtime, you slowly got to p3 with a double overtake with charles. him taking p4 respectively.

you didn't exactly know what happened between lando and max because you were behind lando, but at the hairpin, but they both lost control and crashed into the barrier, your eyes widened as you zoomed past the both of them, ferrari taking p1 & p2 simultaneously.

"is max okay?"

"focus on the race, y/n. he will be fine."

"no, tell me what's going on with the red bull and mclaren, did lando rear-end max?" you asked hurriedly, still trying your best to bring this race home.

"i will update you as soon as i get info," that was anthony's way of telling you to shut the fuck up and focus on the race.

your mind was racing a million miles an hour, you were worried. for once, it wasn't the two of you involved in a crash.

you brought the race home at the end, scoring a ferrari 1-2, but your mind was not there on the podium where it should be.

"dad!" you yell as you see your father in the ferrari garage after all of the celebratory processes had been gone through, tears instantly brought to your eyes, you run and almost knock him over from the force of you flying and hugging him.

"i'm so proud of you," your father held you tight and you cried into his arms, "i always believed you could, now i'm looking at the future world champion."

and that's where you finally realize, maybe you did deserve the iconic red car after all.

"i'm going to break that mclaren wing, i swear," you mutter quietly as you sit next to max who was resting on the hospital bed of the medical center, you had gone straight to visit max as you finished everything up around the paddock.

"you have anger issues—"

"i do not!" you gasped and looked at max who had a loopy smile on his face, you act as if that was a scandalous thought and scoffed. he was under some painkillers to manage the pain of whatever injuries he sustained from the crash

"you do, you always have. even when you were a rookie. i remember when you crashed into me on that quali, it was funny watching the race over and hearing you say motherfucker over the radio. you got fined for that right?" max asked, glancing at you who was on his left.

with a sigh and a huff, you reply a small 'yes' before crossing your arms in front of your chest like a child throwing a tantrum.

again, max would never admit it outloud but he considered you cute.

the door of the room opened to reveal a lando with a few of mclaren's representatives, he had a sorry look on his face but you frowned when you saw him.

you then caught yourself and was confused, what was this feeling?

protectiveness? care?

what the hell was this?

you cringe at yourself before lando gave you a raised eyebrow.

"is there a problem?" lando asked before you catch yourself another time, eyes wide and shook your head.

"sorry, made a face out loud on accident."

lando looked away from you for a split second before turning to look at max, "hey mate, i'm really sorry about crashing into you back there. it was a complete mistake on my part."

they sorted out whatever "beef" they had and that night max was cleared to go home. you had volunteered to take him back to his apartment, since it was monaco, the fia didn't have to book hotels for the both of you.

max had a gentle hand always holding yours as you walked him back to your apartments.

he had stopped in the middle of his tracks, your hands naturally disconnected, you turned to ask him if he was alright before he uttered the words out of his lips.

"what are we?"

you looked at him, almost confused. you passed it off as the meds at first.

"max, you're drugged. don't say things you don't mean," you walk a few steps to grab his hand again, but he was steadfast in his resolve. not wanting to move until you answered his question.

but you didn't know the answer to that either.

"answer the question, y/n," max said softly, he didn't want to make it seem like he was mad at you, he never was, "what are we exactly? i kiss you on the forehead to comfort you and i call you schatje but you've never reciprocated my moves, so tell me what are we?"

"schatje is a term of endearment right? what do you mean by that max?" max had always told you at schatje was something that someone would call their loved ones, you didn't bother searching it up either because he was the native dutch here, you took his word for it.

"i lied," max said quietly, his eyes were on the floor and he looked absolutely rejected.

you could never ignore the feelings that bloomed in your chest when max would sacrifice his sleep for you, the way he would wrap his arms around you, the way he would kiss your forehead with so much love in his eyes that he might break if he held in anymore.

you never realized it until now.

"so what does it mean?" you asked as you stood in front of him, trying to search for the answers in his pretty blue eyes but all you could see were the hints of disappointment and sadness.

"it means love, or baby— it doesn't matter what it means," max was frustrated now, you could tell by the way he tousled with his hair when he finished his sentence, he wanted an answer and fast.

you didn't know what to answer with.

it was undeniable that you did reciprocate his feelings but you didn't know how to word it out.

you were always bad with words.

"i don't know what to answer you with," you replied, as honest as you could get, you didn't want any misunderstandings with max. especially not now, not ever.

you guys had gotten close for a reason. he was your safe space, as you were his and you didn't want to throw it away all for a title to name the two of you.

"so you don't feel the same way? all these months of me comforting you, patiently listening and waiting for you to open up? it was all because you considered me a friend?" max asked, his grip off your hand was now slipping.

it was also a metaphor of your relationship with him breaking apart.

"i'm— i don't know max. this is all confusing to me, i've never dated anyone before and i don't know how to answer—"

"so when i kiss you, you don't feel it in your chest too? the warmth? the comfort? it's all just flat— just platonic to you?" max took a step back, it was almost he was stepping back from whatever was going on between the two of you.

"i'm not saying that—"

"let's not ruin your win tonight by arguing," max brushed past by you and continued to walk, not bothering to look back to see if you were following or not.

you weren't.

"p6, dnf, p10, p12, dnf, p18, p16, dnf— do you actually want to be a formula one driver, y/n?" fred had dropped a stack of papers of data of your past performances, you were frustrated too. you hadn't been able to get a good night's worth of sleep since monaco.

"look, i told you. i'm just having trouble with sleeping and the doctor prescribed me with pills for the insomnia too, what else do you expect from me fred?" you asked with a sigh, rubbing your temple, absolutely frustrated with your recent performance too.

"i want you to bring whatever you did in monaco, this isn't good enough for me, y/n. i can't keep defending you forever," fred had told you before leaving you with a headache and a stack of papers to analyze over.

"fucking fuck shit, stupid—" you stopped yourself as you set your elbows on the table and rubbed your face with your hands.

max...

it felt like you were stuck in a loop.

a never-ending, bad performing loop.

you didn't know what to do, you ate those sleeping pills like candy and they did nothing.

nightmares were more frequent now, having them almost everyday. the stress was slowly getting to you and you could see it in your performance.

you spent that night going over the data and simulating your races. your best tracks, worst ones and picked apart what you could do better.

every race, even your best tracks. it ended with something stupid.

understeering, oversteering, bumping into your own teammate, bumping into sim max, bumping into literally everything that wasn't supposed to be bumped into.

it was supposed to be flawless— you were supposed to be flawless.

what the fuck happened?

you knew the answer to that but didn't dare answer it for yourself.

"it's not working," you whispered to yourself as you took off the headphones and practically slammed it against the desk you were currently occupying. it was useless.

everything was fucking useless when it came to you.

your relationship with max was strained, he wouldn't even look at your direction, let alone talk with you. while him and charles were celebrating most of their podiums in the cooldown room, you were stuck here, overanalyzing whatever the fuck you did wrong.

rubbing your face with your hands again, you had barely heard someone come into the room with you with a sympathetic smile.

"it's one of those slumps, is it?" charles' voice had flowed into the room and it startled you, nearly jumping out of your own skin.

"jesus fucking christ, charles. knock," you rubbed your temples, your sleep-deprivation had earned you major migraines, they were practically permanently thumping in your skull now.

"sorry, i overheard fred talking to you earlier. then he told me that you might need a little help..." charles trailed off as he noticed the mess all over you, it was late and your flight for the next grand prix was due tomorrow morning.

"it's fine— i'm fine. i am not a child that needs to be babysat," you spat out in anger, "if he wants to get rid of me, he can. fucking coward," you growled the last part under your breath but charles was still understanding your situation.

"you know y/n, it's okay to ask for help sometimes—"

"i don't need help! i just need to sleep for once in my life," you closed your eyes, hoping for the thumping in your skull to just go away.

"are—"

"just get out."

first simulation, crash, dnf.

second, collision, dnf.

third, mistake on the curbs, p9.

fourth, spun out, dnf.

fifth, minimal mistakes, could be better, p2.

80% of your simulations ended in a crash.

"how the fuck did i do so well earlier this season? fucking shit ass car, shit ass team, shit ass driver—"

it was max.

"shut up!" you screamed out loud at your brain.

you were spiraling, it was obvious to everyone else but yourself.

being behind the wheel only a week after your kiss with the barriers had unnerved you.

was it even legal to drive an f1 car being this sleep-deprived?

you didn't want to know the answer to that.

"just focus on the race yeah? don't stress yourself out on anything else, just do your best—"

"i don't need your shitty peptalks before my race, anthony," you warned your race engineer and he didn't say anything remotely encouraging for the rest of the race.

your performance this time around was better than the rest of the races you overanalyzed a week ago.

p3.

podium.

more humans to interact with... yay.

if there was a time where you wanted to die, this was it.

max was in the cooldown room with charles.

you were dreading it.

"good job on the podium today! i knew you could do it," charles flashed you a big smile, you could only give him a small smile back.

this wasn't your peak performance, you knew it but you didn't want to say anything snappy, feeling bad for the words you yelled at him the other week.

you weren't doing good, and he knew so he always gave you some grace.

you didn't utter a word in that cooldown room, feeling lightheaded from the adrenaline and the lack of sleep.

you couldn't even feel the cold champagne on your skin when it came to podium celebrations, you were just thankful it was time to go home back to monaco when the race was over. autumn break was in full-swing and you wanted to sleep the entire break over.

THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE IM SORRY. i have been very busy :[

[wizard-on-whales]

I need back shots from him...he's so large (he probably makes that face while he comes.)

Just his heavy body bending you over, he's got your ass up the air, your face shoved in the pillows. One of his hands is splayed on your lower back, his other one wrapped around the base of your neck, his weight pushing you down further. You were practically suffocating but he didn't care, his only worry was seeing just how hard and fast and deep he could slam into you.

The noises from between your legs would be so obscene, your slick dripping all down your legs, getting on James, and soaking the bed. Your body writhing under him and your uncontrollable moans would only spur him further. You'd be in tears as you hit your 5th orgasm that night but he keeps going, only caring about chasing his own high and not the fact that you were practically unconscious at this point.

And fuck when he finally does cum there'd be so much. He'd grip your waist, pulling your ass tightly against his hips to lock you there, his body convulsing slightly as he pumps you full of his seed. It would be spilling out of you, dripping down your legs but he'd just push himself deeper, not wanting to waste a single drop. It was his way of telling you that you were his, claiming your body as his own.

Despite your shaking body and your aching cunt you loved every second of it, missing the feeling of how good he stretched you the second he pulled out. And you can guarantee he's going to watch his cum pool out of you and make a mess of your lower half and the sheets.

✭-----------------------------✭

Phew someone come sedate me before I go hunt James down and leap on him

[solkver]

airdrop ⋆·˚ ༘ *

chapter 16... ᝰ.ᐟ are the gays done fighting yet?

content warning! written angst under the cut, violence/fighting, slight mentions of blood, lots of profanities, anton and y/n massive anger issues lol

✄┈┈┈┈ october 26, 2024 – 9:27 pm

"y/n" anton begins, hands on his hips, "what the fuck is going on with you and sohee?" a frown graces his features, clearly displeased with the situation.

"nothing" you answer clear as day, eyes honest. it makes anton fume, what do you mean nothing?

"I'm not playing y/n"

"I'm not either" you respond back just as quickly as anton retorts at you, "why are you always playing dumb with me y/n?" anton groans, a hand running through his tousled hair, "just answer me for real"

"nothing, anton. sohee and I are nothing."

anton sighs, frustrated as hell, "so, what? you guys sleep next to each other as friends?" anton dryly chuckles, "hell, you guys aren't even friends" and maybe anton was right, but something about hearing it from him irks you to your bone. but this is anton, your brother, you're never going to succumb to him, "yeah, basically"

"what?" anton asks, stunned.

"I said, we fuck around but thats it"

that seems to hit a nail in anton's head, his brows shoot up and his pupils are blown wide, "get your shit together y/n! he isn't one of your boytoys like before"

you frown at the term used, evidently offended. fuck, it makes your blood boil that anton had been digging at your past relationships from the get go, "sohee is my best friend, y/n. he's not some boy you meet at the bar and bring home"

you click your tongue, stepping closer to the fuming boy, anger levels slowly matching one another, "what if I want him to be my boytoy, then what chanyoung?"

that really does it for the younger, his hands flying to grab at the collar of your shirt, practically puncing on you "don't fucking call me that"

what kind of man were you if not pounce back at your brother, right? you snatch at his wrists and push him back, "what? chanyoung?"

really, you should've just stepped down from the pedestal of your pride because you're reminded just how much stronger anton had become when his fists meet your cheek, "I'm not fucking around, y/n. do you like sohee or not?"

you huff, your left hand cradling your punched cheek while your right grabs at the front of anton's shirt, your faces barely centimeters apart, "it's none of your business" you seethe, spitting a mix of drool and blood on the sand, a couple getting on anton's face before shoving him away and going back into your cabin.

no matter how angry you get at anton, you know better than to hit him back. you were better than that, way better. but with the bruise forming on your cheek, you really second doubt your choices. sigh.

𓏔 i. MASTERLIST 𓏔 ii. BACK 𓏔 iii. NEXT

synopsis! bored sohee decides that airdropping memes at his best friend's gig would be the best way to kill the boredom. much to his luck, the drummer of his best friend's band, who he's been crushing on for years, is the one that got his meme airdropped to.

author's note! DONT JUMP ME FOR THE ANGST AND FIGHTING GUYS 😞😞😞 taglists still open!

taglist! @pinklemonade34 @luvkyu @naseobseob @kmusicreblogs @desafortuno @dontwannaexsist @onementally-unstabel-kid @kaijunodos @kaiyunsim @xavi-in-kpopland @prettybluei @gnusihcom @shuaeunie @leoleoleone @nootnootpinguuu @conwunder

© solkver 2024 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms. thank you.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?!・l.f.

—Even after your bodyguard saved your life you insist that you don't need his help, maybe you feel a little different after he drops his weapon in the middle of a fight—and forces you to admit you need him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・lee felix x fem!reader // 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・action, fluff, crack, enemies to lovers // 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・cursing, death of bad guys, blood, cursing, guns, knives, felix being a little shit, did i mention cursing?? (its my mother tongue)

𝐚/𝐧・BOO BITCHES!! haha i'm back after being gone for a... month...yeah...sorry. this is just something silly i had originally planned to put into my bodyguard!lix fic, but i ended up changing the plot so i can no longer (maybe) use it, though i loved it so much i just decided to post it :)) alsoooo does anyone want to be tagged in bodyguard!lix fic??

How the fuck did you manage to get yourself into this situation? Is all you can think of as the room swarms with men, all armed with various weapons, effectively backing yourselves into a corner.

Well, shit.

The walls are cold and hard as you fight your way to the door, driving your throwing knives into any vulnerable place your enemy shows. Men are falling all around you both by your hands and Felix's. It's all a blur—arrows wizz by your neck, mallets swinging around your head.

"Watch out!" Felix shouts. He places his hands around your waist. You are in the air before you can even blink. An arrow hits the cracked cobblestone where your forehead would have been.

Holy shit.

"Thank you," you throw over your shoulder, yanking the arrow out of the wall, launching it into the final man's chest fumbling with his bow right before he collapses. "But I didn't need your help."

Felix barks out an incredulous laugh, pressing his tongue into his cheek. Momentarily he is baffled before something else passes over his expression.

"Fine," he rests his back against the wall, dropping his bloody knife onto the floor, much to your horror.

"Felix, what the fuck—" you don't even get to complete the sentence before another man is sprinting towards you, appearing from the entryway red-eyed and vengeful, fueled by the death of all his comrades. You launch a knife at his jugular. He crumples like a rag doll.

"Felix, pick the knife up," you shout frantically, watching as six more men swarm into the hallway charging toward you. They really don't seem to like you. You move to pull more knives out of your seethe only to find you have four left.

"Felix, this isn't funny, pick the fucking knife up," you demand, far too afraid to be ashamed about the slight trembling in your tone. You send him a look over your shoulder, their stomping growing closer, too close, way, way too close.

"Are you going to admit you need my help?" Felix's obnoxiously smug voice sounds from behind you, practically tasting the smirk in his voice. You grit your teeth so hard they feel like they are going to fall off, but the steps grow louder, too loud.

"I need your help." The words taste so foul in your mouth you almost want to throw the "I hate you" that follows right back up. He smiles, back to his happy, cheery, you-want-to-smack-him-in-the-face-so-bad self.

"Atta girl," he purrs. "Now duck."

You obey.

Two guys breach the entrance, announcing their presence with a deafening battle cry. In one swift motion, Felix pulls a gun from thin fucking air and levels it with their heads. Taking in the mountains of dead bodies, they choose to listen to the barrel of his gun, halting instantly.

"Do you mind? The adults are talking," he chastizes, rolling his eyes as though he is talking to a petulant toddler instead of four knife-wielding guards.

"Where the hell did you get that?" you gasp, pointing to the that in question. He tilts his head, a slow, serpentine smile spreading across his lips. "Oh, this thing?" he flashes it in the light. "I got it from the guard at the gate." You're going to kill him. You're going to take this knife and shove it straight through his stupid, stupid head.

"You've had a gun this entire time?" You seethe, your eye twitching. For a moment, you're so pissed you completely forget about the men awkwardly waiting by the door two seconds away from sprinting.

"I thought you said you didn't need any help," Felix smirks.

"And you chose now to hold me up to my word."

In some half-baked plan to escape, the group charges forward, not before Felix pulls the trigger, shooting all four members square in the forehead—all without ever leaving your gaze. He rolls his eyes, shooting you a look like, 'Do these guys ever learn?' Then, as if nothing ever happened, he says,

"You seemed very adamant."

You were going to punch him, really, truly, you were going to put your fist through his annoyingly beautiful face. Instead, you yank the gun from his hands, clicking the safety and sliding it into the belt of your pants. He doesn't complain as you drag him out of the room, stepping over thick puddles of blood and tangled limbs, cringing slightly as red stains the bottom of your shoe. You wipe it on the floor when you step into the hallway, tiptoeing down the corner.

Somewhere in the distance, murmurs of voices catch your attention. Hiding behind a corner, the shadows cloak you, protecting you from unwanted eyes. The voices loom closer, almost close enough—in complete silence, you could make out the words.

"Hey love, your shoe's untied," Felix speaks from behind you, so loud you spin around, pressing a finger onto his lips in a rush, slowly realizing what little distance is left between you. He smiles against your finger, bringing his tongue to lick a fat stripe up the skin. You fight back a disgusted shriek, instead resorting to a harsh glare and a defiant middle finger.

"I really, truly, to the deepest depths of my soul, hate you," you say, wiping the saliva off your skin.

"Yeah, yeah, save it for the bedroom."

Tonight was going to be a long night.

cookie owns this