#just purring up a storm

[mary-and-annie]

She makes it so hard to get out of bed when she is so cute and cuddly...

[plaidpyjamas]

I wonder how the Yautja view depression (is there any canon evidence of them dealing with someone with depression? 👀)

Do they see it as a weakness? Or would you be thought of as more tough because you manage to fight off suicidal ideation and unpleasant symptoms all day every day, on top of functioning in the world? What about the days when you just.... can't? What would your yautja s/o do - would they do whatever they could to help you? Or would they leave you be, watching from a distance, until you got back on your feet?

Maybe one day, after a few days of being stuck in bed after an even worse couple of weeks, you wake up to a clean new skull on your bedside table. You'd been feeling a little extra sad with your partner gone (especially since you weren't sure where he was) but this gift puts a smile of your face for the first time in days. So he was on a hunt, off finding you a suitable trophy in an attempt to cheer you up. And it worked, if only a little. When you finally get up, wrapping yourself in a blanket and heading out to the kitchen, you see your Yautja there cooking something. Whatever it is it smells fantastic. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, stretching a bit to try and clasp your hands together. He huffs out a small laugh at your attempt and places a hand over yours. The two of you stand there in comfortable silence while your Yautja finishes cooking. You feel a bit better, for the time being.

[hisbutleronhiatus]

It has been 23 days since the Kuroshitsuji hiatus was announced.

Sebastian has permitted himself a rare moment of reprieve to cuddle with Wolf on the couch, and the weary demon is already drifting off to sleep as he rests his head on the mortal’s chest, that most commodious of pillows.

[fullmetalhearts]

Someone handed me a kitten at Safeway

[relicsongmel]

Getting pretty near to my bedtime and Jolene has not budged from laying on my bed for the past hour and a half. The question now is do I kick her out or let her stay

[rowanwolf]

I swear this is like a roller coaster. I thought I was okay. I thought I was past the worst of this. I thought it was going to be better. And then I broke down crying for like an hour and a half. I just feel absolutely lost. Not to mention overwhelmed. And isolated as hell.

I really ought to know better. Recovery - any kind of recovery - is not a straight line. Never has been, never will be. I know that. It's just been a lot lately. And on top of that, I feel isolated from most people. I feel muzzled. Most of my friends in general and all of my offline friends are not part of the alterhuman community. There is a grand total of one person I did not meet through this community who knows I'm a therian. I want to talk to my best friend about the alters. I could really use the support. I just don't know how to talk to her about it. I don't know how to talk to much of anybody about it. That all just makes me feel isolated and lonely and lost.

Recovery isn't a straight line. There is no magical fix to just be okay. There will always be strife, there will always be hardships and challenges, there will always be bad days. No matter how far down that road you are, there will always be bad days. It's just a matter of remembering the storm will pass. The sun also rises. The light is not gone. Sometimes it's just hard to see it from where you're standing.

I just need to keep reminding myself of that...

[victorborkowski]

i think cuddling has clicked for my other old cat and i'm so 🥹🥹🥹🥹 he keeps coming in to sit with me on my pc chair it's so so cute...

[kashverse]

things people should know:

do not mess with your cat.

do not mess with your sukuna.

you thought this was common sense. apparently, it wasn’t.

it started when you left sukuna in the waiting area of the vet clinic, because you needed to pick up some medication for your cat—bless his furry little soul, the bravest warrior you know, who had just survived a vet visit with minimal casualties. sukuna, being the grumpy menace he is, had grumbled about waiting but ultimately sat down with your cat carrier beside him, arms crossed, looking like a bouncer for a very exclusive club. and that’s when they appeared.

the poodle posse.

a group of women with perfectly manicured nails, dressed like they were about to star in a reality tv show called luxury lives of lapdog owners. their poodles were equally pampered—fluffy, primped, wearing tiny designer jackets that probably cost more than your rent. you weren’t there to witness it, but based on sukuna’s expression when you came back, things had escalated.

“oh, wow, such a strong, brooding man,” one of them had probably purred, leaning into sukuna’s personal space. “is this your cat? he’s so cute!”

bad move.

your cat is not "cute"—your cat is a warrior. a veteran of the battlefield (otherwise known as your apartment). he has fought many enemies (the vacuum, a particularly aggressive curtain, and one unfortunate houseplant that did not survive). and most importantly, he is loyal to you. so, when a stranger’s hand reached out to pet him?

he hissed. and not just any hiss—this was a legendary hiss. a hiss that spoke of betrayal, of fury, of how dare you touch me, peasant. and sukuna? sukuna looked at them like they were the scum of the earth.

"ya deaf?" he had grunted, because subtlety has never been his strong suit. "he doesn’t like strangers."

but did that stop them? oh no. if anything, it made them more interested.

“aww, he’s just shy! maybe he just needs to warm up to us!”

and that’s when your cat, your beautiful, petty little creature, smacked their poodle in the face.

gasp. horror. scandal.

the poodle recoiled like it had just been personally insulted. its owner gasped, clutching her dog like a victorian maiden about to faint. "your cat just hit my precious baby!" she shrieked.

sukuna? sukuna had the audacity to laugh. “good. he had it coming.”

the poodle posse was outraged. they tried to guilt-trip sukuna, fluttering their lashes, attempting to appeal to his (nonexistent) softer side.

“you know, a guy like you shouldn’t be wasting time with a cat person. dog lovers are way more fun.”

mistake.

because that’s when sukuna turned to them, his usual mean grin stretching across his face, and said, “you think i like cats? nah. i like my girl. the cat’s just part of the package.”

devastation. utter defeat.

when you finally came back, you were greeted with the sight of the poodle posse storming out, their spoiled dogs in tow, throwing death glares at sukuna—who looked smug as hell. you raised a brow at him. "what did you do?"

"nothin'," he said, draping an arm over your shoulders. "your little monster defended his honor. i just enjoyed the show." meanwhile, your cat, still sitting in his carrier like a king on his throne, looked very pleased with himself.

moral of the story?

don’t mess with your cat. don’t mess with your sukuna. and definitely don’t mess with both at the same time.

[hassiegfrieddoneanythingwrong]

Got reminded of Summer Abigail's cats Nosh and Luthar. Decided to look up videos of cat antics.

And now I can't help but think the two cause chaos all over Chaldea.

Case in point - having Luthar jump on Siegfried's back in the library while he's not expecting it while Nosh stares ominously from the background. They planned this. I just know it.

Absolutely best part: they're both capable of turning into cute eldritch flower cats at will.

Many Servants (and some staff) are, in a way, glad that there's only two cats running around Chaldea. Siegfried is one of those Servants.

I can just imagine that after the "let's jump on his back for funsies" stunt, he just suspiciously side-eyes them, in a "if you two don't behave I'll let Abigail know that you've been very bad cats" way. I can also imagine that eventually it becomes something like this.

[cascadianights]

There's a perch right above the heater with a weighted blanket lying on it, and a view of the entire bed, waiting for my cats.

Its been open for weeks but they never used it. Then my senior cat went to sleep there, looking out over her entire family. She never woke up.

That day my other cat groomed my hair for 30 minutes straight, and has slept in that spot constantly since.

[felifeltfrog]

You can tell Loke knows I'm anxious cause he cannot seem to chill out and is practically glued to me atm

[simonbrain]

cw omegaverse, noncon touching, neglected!reader

you're slowly convincing yourself that your pack is trying to get rid of you. they've been acting off around you for weeks, and you aren't sure why you've been pushed to the side.

john snaps at you more often now, even during downtime when you're seeking comfort from your head alpha. the soft look he usually directs at you has been replaced by a scowl, and you're not sure if it's from the tedious amount of work and stress that weighs on his shoulders or if it's because you pop into his office every few hours to check on him. maybe you're just making it worse for him—you don't miss the way his face scrunches up whenever you appear in his doorway—so you visit him less often. hopefully he'll appreciate it if you take your sad, sour scent somewhere else.

which leads you to simon, who doesn't seem to notice you at all, not until you approach him first, and then you regret your actions when he greets you with nothing more than a grunt. there's that distant, eerie look in his eyes as he impatiently stares down at you, cocking his head to the side as your words get caught up in your throat. he's been easier to aggravate lately, and unfortunately his irritation doesn't evade you. you can't remember the last time you saw him this guarded around you—maybe when you first joined, although it wasn't this bad—but it still stings nonetheless.

"spit it out, peanut. i don't 'ave all day." your silly callsign rolls off his tongue less affectionately than usual, and you try to scrape up a reason to talk to him, as if being his mate isn't enough. when you finally ask if he's seen the other sergeants, he only scoffs and shakes his head, stalking right past you.

the blatant disregard from both your alphas has your chest aching uncomfortably and your throat winding up tight, but you walk off to somewhere else, wanting to find some dark corner so you can cry all of your frustration out.

you know you should be happy when you bump into your other two mates, grateful even. johnny crowds your front while kyle embraces you from behind, the two of them cooing at your weepy state and promising to make it all better.

but their touches are rougher than you want them to be, and kyle's grinding on you with more hunger than you can handle right now, and johnny's nosing down your neck, whispering promises of turning you pliant and brainless in a second, and you're growing more stressed each time they paw at your body as if you're just their little fuck doll—

you wrestle out of their grip and shove them both away before storming off to your room, leaving the two of them to simmer in the remnants of your stressed and upset scent, the sourness of it hitting them both at the same time. whatever heat they were feeling before is replaced with alarm, and when they try to follow you, you slam the door in their faces, choked-up sobs leaving your mouth as you slump down on your bed.

no one checks up on you that evening—not to apologise, not to see if you're okay, not even to ask if you're hungry. the smell of a distressed omega seeps out of the cracks of your door and wafts around your room, but no one comes. they must really not want you, then.

you tell yourself you're too needy. you're a strain on your alphas, always demanding their attention. you feel like an embarrassment compared to johnny, who, despite being another young omega, can get by with a simple pat on the shoulder, purring away in satisfaction. you're not levelheaded like kyle, or grounding like simon. obviously, if you were, your alphas would be all over you.

the nasty thoughts haunt your mind until you're quietly getting out of bed and walking down to john's office. you know you smell pathetic, but you keep your head down as you walk past other soldiers, who are no doubt pitying you right now.

still, you keep on walking. you need to tell john to break the bond, to rid the pack of you. it needs to be done, even as your heart squeezes painfully and you're close to letting out a sob.

you don't bother knocking, but when you walk in to the sight of kyle sitting on john's lap while simon and johnny stand on either side of their captain as they converse among themselves, you wish a hole in the ground would just swallow you up already.

john notices you first, but you don't catch the way his gaze softens at the sight of your weak state. you know that they all can smell the distress on you, but you try to steady your voice and wipe the tears that are beginning to form again.

"i want to break the bond."

four pairs of eyes zero in on you, and despite the tension in the room and the seriousness of your words, despite your anger and hurt, you can't help but relax slightly as the anxiety gradually melts away. finally, they're paying attention to you.

[nat-20s]

Forever obsessed with Donna just straight up having a fully domesticated time lord in her house. You know she's posting pictures of The Doctor napping, Skimbleshanks loudly purring on his hip, with captions like "the oncoming storm and the cat he said he didn't want" to the companions group chat

[sunarc]

Exes who convince you to get back with them by fucking you until you’re cumming and making a mess on his cock. He’ll have you in a mating press just so he can get a perfect view of how your pussy clenches around him. He knows every spot to make you tremble. He’s cocky about it. It’s almost a cycle for him. You’ll storm out telling him how you’re done with his shit. You'll slam the door telling him you never want to see him again. Yet somehow you always end up in the same position, ankles resting on his shoulder taking his cock babbling about how you love him so much.

“Mmh, I love you so much baby” your words are a memorized pattern that you always find yourself drooling whenever you’re with him.

He chuckles, eyes never leaving the area where you two connect. The squelching sounds of your hole are almost as loud as your moans

“You love me baby?” he groans “ This pussy loves me too, listen to how she’s purring”

His thrusts are rough. You’re almost positive the neighbors are sick of the two of you. He’s in a trance. All he can think about is making you cum on his cock. The way your hole squeezes him only fuels him. He can’t help but admit how much he missed this. The way you call his name is like music to his ears. He hasn’t heard your pretty voice beg him to let you cum in so long. He’s savoring this moment. His hips meet your roughly grunting each time he bottoms out.

“Thought you said you were done with me” he knows he should be thankful he has you back but he’s so cocky he can’t help but tease you a little. You look away embarrassment flooding through you.

“Look at me baby” he growls “ Look at how much your pussy missed me” his eyes are trained on the way you suck him in.

“You missed this cock didn’t you?” He knows his words are getting to you. Your whimpers grow louder. All you can do is give in and admit your truth.

“Missed you so much baby” your voice is shaky. Your eyes meet his and he has a smirk on his face hearing your words. He places his hand on your stomach, feeling where his cock is.

"You feel that baby?" his eyes switch back and forth between the creamy mess your making on his cock and the bulge that shows where his cock presses inside of you.

He leans down to put his head into your neck to leave wet kisses. His hands wrap around you pulling you close. His groans fill your ears and for a moment you want to never hear anything other than that again.

“You’re mine” his words match his thrust You can feel yourself growing closer to your orgasm. "Say it" he growls. His thrust are sloppy. His mind floods with his claim over you. You want to speak, to give him an answer but you feel so fucked out of your mind all you can do and whimper and moan. He chuckles watching you practically go dumb from his cock.

“I guess i gotta fuck you until you remember who’s pussy this is”

Matsukawa, Atsumu, Kuroo, Osamu, Suna, Sukuna, Toji, Gojo, Tsukishima, Semi, Geto

tag: @smoothopz , @ykimobessed , @mizloca

let me know if any of you would like to be added to my tag list for other works

[aceyalonso]

your brother won't like this - MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing : max verstappen x norris!reader kinktober day 13 - deepthroating

summary : max can't seem to escape the norris' after that terrible race in Austria. The only difference? Y/n was actually worth Max's time (and stamina)

warnings/notes : story is set during the Austrian grand prix, swearing, drinking, smut, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!) choking, slight overstimulation, praise kink, degrading kink, name-calling, squirting, creampie, dirty talk

word count : 3.4k

a/n : god i love this trope

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

After Lando and Max's disappointing crash in Austria, Max was fuming as he stormed into the hotel bar near the pool, his 5th-place finish feeling like a bitter defeat. As he approached the bar, he collided with someone, spilling his drink.

"Watch where you're going!" Max snapped, glaring at the person. But as he looked closer, his anger faded, replaced by surprise. Standing before him was a stunning young woman who looked remarkably like Lando.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," she apologized, her voice soft and melodic. She bent down to help clean up the spilled drink, giving Max an eyeful of her ample cleavage straining against her low-cut dress.

"Let me buy you a drink," Y/n insisted, her dark eyes meeting Max's gaze. "I should have been paying more attention. Please, allow me to make it up to you."

She gestured to the bar stool beside her. "Have a seat and let me buy you a drink. It's the least I can do."

Max hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and sat down, intrigued by this mysterious woman who seemed so familiar. As she signaled the bartender, he couldn't help but admire her figure, her curves accentuated by dress that she wore.

"I'm Y/n, by the way," she introduced herself, extending her hand. "And you are?"

"Max," he replied, shaking her soft hand. "Nice to meet you, Y/n."

As the bartender brought over their drinks, Y/n leaned in closer, her perfume tantalizing his senses. "So, Max, what brings you here tonight?" she asked with a playful smile, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm.

He sighed and took a swig of his drink, the cool liquid soothing his throat. "Just a rough day at work, you know how it is. Some asshole really got under my skin today."

Y/n nodded sympathetically, her dark eyes filled with understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that. Work can be so stressful sometimes."

"What about you?" Max asked, curious about the beautiful stranger. "What brings you to Austria?"

"Oh, I'm just passing through," Y/n replied casually, sipping her own drink. "Visiting my brother actually. He's here for some kind of race or something."

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Figures. Seems like everyone and their brother is in town for that damn race."

As they continued to chat, Max found himself drawn to Y/n's warm personality and easygoing nature. She had a way of putting him at ease, her laughter like music to his ears.

As the night wore on, Max and Y/n continued to drink and converse, their initial tension melting away into a comfortable camaraderie. The alcohol flowed freely, and soon they were laughing and joking like old friends.

Y/n regaled Max with tales of her travels, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she described the various places she'd been. Max, in turn, shared stories from his own life, the stresses of work momentarily forgotten in the company of this captivating woman.

Their knees brushed under the table, sending a jolt of electricity through Max's body. He glanced at Y/n, noticing the way her lips curved into a coy smile as she caught his gaze. The air between them crackled with a palpable tension, a mutual attraction that was becoming harder to ignore.

Y/n leaned in closer, her hand resting lightly on Max's thigh. "You know, Max," she purred, her voice low and seductive, "I've really enjoyed talking with you tonight."

Her fingers traced lazy circles on his leg, inching higher with each pass. Max swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he met her smoldering gaze.

"I've enjoyed it too," he managed to say, his voice rough with desire.

Y/n's hand slid further up his thigh, her touch bold and unapologetic. "Maybe we should take this somewhere more private," she suggested, her lips hovering mere inches from his. "Somewhere we can... get to know each other better."

Max's breath caught in his throat, his body responding eagerly to her advances. He nodded, his eyes dark with lust as he imagined all the delicious things they could do together.

Without another word, Y/n stood and took Max's hand, leading him away from the crowded bar.

As they waited for the elevator, Max's hands found their way to Y/n's waist, pulling her close against his body. She let out a soft moan as his lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of her throat.

Y/n tilted her head back, giving Max better access to her neck as she pressed herself against him. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she lost herself in the sensation of his touch.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal an empty car. Max swept Y/n inside, his mouth never leaving her skin as he backed her against the wall, his body pinning hers in place.

The doors closed, and the elevator began its ascent to its destination. But Max and Y/n barely noticed, too consumed by their growing desire for one another. Max's hands roamed her curves, squeezing and caressing as Y/n arched into his touch, desperate for more.

The elevator reached their floor, the doors sliding open with a soft ding. Max and Y/n stumbled out, their lips locked in a passionate kiss as they made their way down the hallway to her room.

Max pushed Y/n against the wall as soon as they entered her hotel room, his lips trailing hot kisses along her shoulders. He tugged at the straps of her dress, letting them fall to the sides, exposing her smooth skin.

"You know, you never gave me your last name," he murmured between kisses, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. "It's not fair, since I gave you mine."

Y/n let out a breathy moan, arching into his touch as his hands explored her body. "Mmm, maybe I wanted to keep some mystery," she teased, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He nipped at her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "Well, I think it's time you revealed all your secrets to me," he growled, his hands sliding under her dress to cup her ass.

She hesitates for a moment, moaning as his lips make contact with the skin on her neck. "Norris," she breathes out. "That's my last name."

As Max's lips trailed along Y/n's neck, leaving a path of hickeys in their wake, the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "Norris... as in Lando Norris's sister?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Y/n's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and guilt flashing across her face. "You know my brother?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Max chuckled darkly, his hands gripping her hips possessively. "Know him? That asshole is the one who ruined my day," he growled, nipping at her sensitive skin. "But it looks like his sister might just make it all better."

Y/n let out a breathy moan, her head falling back as Max's lips and teeth worked their magic on her neck. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

Max led Y/n to the bed, sitting down on the edge and pulling her to kneel between his legs. He leaned back, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked down at her with a hungry gaze.

"I want you to make me feel better, Y/n," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I want you to show me just how sorry you are for your brother's behavior."

Y/n bit her lip, her eyes dark with desire as she looked up at him. Slowly, she reached for his belt, her fingers making quick work of the buckle. She tugged his pants and boxers down, freeing his hard, throbbing cock.

"I'm so sorry, Max," she purred, her hand wrapping around his shaft. "Let me make it up to you."

With that, she leaned forward, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. Max groaned, his head falling back as he savored the sensation of her warm, wet mouth on his most sensitive flesh.

Y/n released Max's cock from her lips, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to the tip. She placed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, her tongue swirling around the sensitive skin.

Max watched her through hooded eyes, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she worked her way down his length. Her hands gripped his thighs, her nails digging into his flesh as she took him deeper into her mouth.

"Fuck, Y/n," Max groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily as she deepthroated him. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."

Y/n hummed in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. She bobbed her head up and down, taking him to the back of her throat with each movement.

Y/n took Max deep into her throat, her nose pressing against his pelvis as she swallowed around his cock. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth, coating his shaft in a glistening sheen.

Max's hands flew to her hair, gripping the silky strands as he guided her head, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take it all like a good girl."

She moaned around his cock, the sound muffled by his thick flesh. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as her tongue swirled around the sensitive head. Her hands slid up his thighs, fingers teasing the sensitive skin behind his balls.

Max looked down at Y/n, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her worship his cock. "Fuck, Norris," he growled, his grip on her hair tightening. "You look so pathetic like this, choking on my dick."

Y/n's eyes watered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gagged on his length. But she didn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts, determined to prove herself to him.

Max's hips rocked faster, fucking her face with abandon. "I bet your brother would be ashamed to see you like this," he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "His precious sister, nothing more than a slutty little cocksucker."

Max's eyes glinted with malicious glee as he continued to fuck Y/n's face, his grip on her hair unrelenting. "Keep this up, and maybe I'll let your brother win the damn championship," he sneered, his words laced with cruelty. "Wouldn't that be nice? To have your slutty little mouth wrapped around my cock, all for your brother's success?"

Y/n whimpered, the sound muffled by his thick shaft. Tears streamed down her face, her mascara running in dark rivulets. But she didn't resist, instead hollowing her cheeks and sucking harder, desperate to please him.

Max's hips snapped faster, his cock hitting the back of her throat with each brutal thrust. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groaned, his head falling back in ecstasy. "I might just keep you as my personal little cocksucker."

His thrusts became more erratic, his balls tightening as he neared his climax. "I'm gonna cum down your throat," he warned, his voice strained with impending release. "And you're going to swallow every last drop like a good little slut."

Y/n moaned in response, the vibrations pushing Max over the edge. With a guttural groan, he exploded in her mouth, his hot seed filling her throat. Y/n swallowed greedily, her tongue lapping at his shaft to catch every last drop.

Y/n released Max's cock from her lips, a mixture of cum and saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with a heady mix of submission and desire.

He grinned down at her, his spent cock still twitching with aftershocks of pleasure. "You did well, Norris," he praised, his thumb wiping away the stray drops of cum from her lips. "Maybe your brother will have a shot at that championship after all."

Max pulled Y/n to her feet, his hands roaming her curves possessively. "If you really want your brother to win though, you'll have to do more than just suck my dick," he growled, his eyes dark with lust.

He pushed her back onto the bed, crawling over her and pinning her wrists above her head. "I want this tight little pussy," he demanded, grinding his hardening cock against her clothed core. "I want to fuck you until you're screaming my name."

Y/n looked up at Max, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I don't care about my brother's career," she declared, her voice strong and unwavering. "He's his own person, and I'm mine. My pleasure is what matters to me right now, not his success on the track."

She bucked her hips against Max's, her core aching for his touch. "Fuck me because you want me, not because my brother pissed you off and you want payback," she demanded, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Make me feel good, Max. Make me forget about everything except the feeling of your cock inside me."

Max captured Y/n's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he ordered, "Take that dress off. I want to see every inch of your gorgeous body."

Y/n sat up, her hands trembling with anticipation as she reached for the zipper of her dress. She pulled it down slowly, revealing the creamy skin of her back inch by inch. The dress fell away, pooling at her feet and leaving her clad in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching panties.

Max's eyes roamed over Y/n's body, taking in the constellation of moles that dotted her skin. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to each one he encountered, his lips lingering on her sensitive flesh.

She shivered at the sensation, her body responding to his touch. She arched into him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. "Max," she breathed, her voice heavy with desire. "Please, I need you."

Max stood up, his eyes hungrily devouring Y/n's exposed body. "Get on your hands and knees," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see all of you."

Y/n complied, positioning herself on the bed as instructed. Max stepped behind her, his hands gripping her ass and spreading her cheeks apart. He pulled her panties down, exposing her glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his fingers dipping between her folds to tease her entrance. "I can't wait to bury my cock in this tight little cunt."

He thrust into Y/n with a single, powerful stroke, his thick cock splitting her open. The combination of her wetness and the leftover saliva from her earlier ministrations served as a makeshift lube, allowing him to slide in deep.

Y/n let out a sharp cry, her body struggling to accommodate his impressive size. "Slow down," she pleaded, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. "You're so fucking big."

Max paused, giving Y/n a moment to adjust to his size. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he whispered in her ear. "Relax, baby," he cooed, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her hips. "I'll make you feel so good, I promise."

With that, he began to move, his hips rocking against her ass in a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through Y/n's body, her walls clenching around his thick shaft.

Max picked up the pace, his hips slamming against Y/n's ass with bruising force. The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard banging against the wall as he fucked her with wild abandon.

"Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he grunted, his fingers digging into the meat of her hips. "So fucking tight and wet."

Y/n could only moan in response, her body rocked forward with each powerful thrust. "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," she cried out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the sheets. "Ruin me with that big fucking cock."

Max obliged, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his release. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their moans and grunts of pleasure. Y/n's pussy clenched around him, her orgasm building with each stroke of his cock against her G-spot.

Y/n's moans grew louder, her curses echoing off the walls as Max pounded into her. He brought his hand down on her ass, the sharp slap of skin on skin punctuating his thrusts.

"Fuck, you're so loud," he growled, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can't have you alerting the whole hotel to what a dirty little slut you are."

With that, he wrapped a hand around her neck, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp for air. Y/n's moans turned to whimpers, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm as Max continued to fuck her through it.

Max's grip on Y/n's neck tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he growled, "Shut the fuck up, you dirty little slut."

Y/n whimpered, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. She tried to nod, but the lack of oxygen made it difficult. Her vision began to blur, the edges of her consciousness fading as Max continued to pound into her.

Just as she thought she might pass out, Max released his grip, allowing her to gasp for air. "Breathe," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I'm not done with you yet."

Y/n gasped for air, her lungs burning as she struggled to fill them with much-needed oxygen. Her moans mixed with her ragged breaths, creating a symphony of pleasure and desperation.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her body trembling as another orgasm crashed over her. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

Her words dissolved into a scream as she squirted all over Max's cock, her pussy clenching and fluttering around his thick shaft. The sensation pushed Max over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him like a freight train.

Max fucked Y/n through his orgasm, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied himself inside her. His cum flooded her pussy, so much that it began to leak out around his still-twitching cock.

Y/n whimpered, her body overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled so completely. She could feel Max's seed dripping down her thighs, marking her as his.

Max collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He nuzzled into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her sweat-slicked skin. "Fuck, that was intense," he murmured, his voice hoarse with satisfaction.

He noticed Y/n's labored breathing, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. He pulled back, his eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "Did I push you too far?"

She shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "No, I'm fine," she assured him, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "It was intense, but in the best possible way."

Y/n's body went limp, her thighs quivering as she collapsed onto the bed. She cursed under her breath, her words a jumbled mix of expletives and praise for the mind-blowing sex she had just experienced.

"Fuck, that was so good," she moaned, her hand reaching down to touch her sensitive, well-fucked pussy. "I can't believe how hard you made me cum."

Max laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked down at Y/n's trembling form. "I may have gotten a bit carried away," he admitted, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. "Your brother really pissed me off today, and I guess I took it out on you."

She shivered at his touch, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, if this is what happens when you're mad at him, maybe he should piss you off more often," she teased, her voice still hoarse from her earlier cries of pleasure.

Max chuckled, his hand sliding up Y/n's side to cup her breast. "Careful what you wish for," he warned, his thumb brushing over her nipple. "I might just have to find more reasons to get angry with your brother."

Y/n arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips, "As long as it means I get to feel this good, I think I can live with that."

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

kinktober masterlist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf

[hoshifighting]

Racer!Reader x Racer!Mingyu 一 Rivals to Lovers

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

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

WC: 8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now, the moment has arrived.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s odd, almost synchronized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

The box, with his things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?" one of them asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mingyu’s is smug. “I know I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

And you were, for real. 

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

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

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

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

“Where. Are. You.”

“Hell, I’m at my dorm, wassup?”

“Open the door,” you demanded.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

''R-right here! Please!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But seriously, Mingyu, your bed—"

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

Letting the image speak for itself.

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

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

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

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

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

But you don't bother to check it.