#no major mistakes the first time i posted it not at all

[arttsuka]

Season 3 confirmed let's go

Totally the first time I'm posting this haha

[tenrose]

I hate living in this world.

[svbhuman]

idk man. i should be humble and whatnot but i have to defend myself

[nuadaargetlamh]

One is a convicted criminal that wants to:

Institute a dictatorship “on day one only” (with majority support from his party!)

Give a greenlight to Project 2025

Use a weakened Schedule F to install THOUSANDS of cronies

Institute military tribunals for his political enemies (and allies!)

Gun down “enemies from within”

Support Russia in wiping Ukraine off the map

Use the combo of the removal of the Chevron deference/the Supreme Court allowing people to openly bribe them/Schedule F to extend the far-right’s reach into every government agency and deregulate everything to the benefit of his rich capitalist buddies

Has gotten total immunity for “official acts” (what counts as “official”? Whatever his Schedule F appointed judges choose of course.)

Already took away so many freedoms from racial minorities/queer people/women/anyone-that-isn’t-a-rich-white-man that it would take ages to list them all in this post

and so so so so SO MUCH MORE.

The other is a typical neoliberal politician.

Remember also, you’re not just choosing a president, you’re choosing their cabinet, potential Supreme Court justices, federal employees as well. With the above listed ALONE, Trump would do so much more damage than just what he can do himself. That’s not including everything else his Federalist Society Supreme Court would and have given him on a silver platter. Supreme Court Justices are for LIFE, and we’ve already seen the potentially irreparable damage this far-right activist court has done to the fabric of democracy.

Project 2025 really deserves a part to itself just to list some of what it includes: complete abortion/contraceptive ban (no exceptions), destroying worker’s unions and protections, remove Social Security/Medicare/Affordable Care Act, end civil rights protections in government, ban teaching the history of slavery, remove climate protections while gutting the EPA, end equal marriage and enforce the “traditional family ideal”, use the military to gun down protests, mass deportation of legal immigrants (especially Muslims), ending birthright citizenship, pack the lower courts, and plenty more. The far-right wasn’t able to take full advantage of Trump’s presidency the first time since it was so unexpected. They’re preparing so that they won’t make the same mistake again. THERE ARE OVER 900 PAGES OF POLICIES AND PLANS THAT THEY ABSOLUTELY WILL IMPLEMENT IF THEY WIN. READ IT. Anyone that says they won’t is either a liar or already drank the Kool-Aid. Isn’t it interesting that every politician that supports it, including his vice president, wants Trump to win?

Not to mention, if you care about Palestine (like I do, a lot), Trump would be MUCH WORSE for Palestine than the other candidate, supporting Bibi going “from the river to the sea” and already cut off millions in aid to Palestine in 2018 (which Dems reversed!). If you support a free Palestine and don’t vote blue, you have categorically hurt them more than if you did. Even Palestinians themselves want the Democrat candidate over Trump. There is no quick and bloodless peace deal that both Palestine and Israel would ever agree to. The road to an end of the Palestine-Israel conflict is going to be long and difficult, probably decades of dedicated de-radicalization in both states, and will involve far more than one person’s decisions in the end. Unless Trump takes power, and avoids all that by sending enough bombs to turn the Gaza Strip into dust.

There are a few reasons you would choose to vote third party in a FPTP system (support ranked choice voting btw) or not vote “in protest” while ignoring all the state and local elections that affect your area more than the president. Either you’re privileged enough to not be affected by what Trump would bring, you’re ignorant of the consequences, or you care more about doing nothing perfectly rather than doing something, anything that isn’t 100% ideologically “pure” to fight against the far-right fascist movement.

Am I a democratic socialist? Yes. Am I a realist? Also yes. In every single down-ballot race, and through my activism, I will fight for the rights of the oppressed and working-class. But the Presidency isn’t fucking winnable right now, and probably won’t be for decades. Pro-corporatist/anti-worker sentiment is baked into the fucking bones of this country and its people. A majority of eligible voters wouldn’t vote for Bernie, and he’s barely center-left. Voting for anything other than one of the two big parties is a useless feel-good gesture at the moment. Or you’re a dumbass accelerationist, and if you are, honestly go fuck yourself.

Let’s say you want a socialist revolution, full-tilt government takeover. I want that too, in my wildest dreams! We’re on the same page there. So how are you going to do it. How? HOW? What pro-worker activist groups are you working with? Are you encouraging your workplace to form a union? Volunteering for/donating to your local farmers’ co-op? Canvassing for pro-worker legislation? Hell, even something as small as distributing free copies of high-school/college textbooks, so that those of poorer means have a better chance at affording advanced education? Are you doing anything to help? Any praxis at all, rather than typing wishful thoughts of revolution alongside insults to people who aren’t as “correct” as you on the internet?

Every voter that still supports Trump is energized by every cruelty he enacts, while millions of Democrats and third-partyists care more about purity tests and manifesting socialist revolution tulpas than avoiding a fascist dictatorship.

Have a brain, touch grass, and vote blue all the way down that fucking ballot.

[mesetacadre]

107 years ago today an organized group of workers in the Russian Empire decided they had had enough of war, misery, the oppression of women, and of a corrupt democracy that had promised much and changed nothing, the Tsar still in his palaces, the workers still giving their life for a cause foreign to the working class of Europe and the world. Most bolsheviks were industrial workers, with an insufficient formal education, precarious salaries and conditions. The working class in the Russian Empire had tried liberal democracy, had seen its hipocrisy in the months following the election of the provisional government, and understood their historic goal of progressing further beyond the democracy of the landowner, businessman and aristocrat. It wasn't the first time the proletariat had attempted to take power, both worldwide and in the Russian Empire, but this time they were ready, educated, an organized enough.

The armies of 14 imperialist powers combined could not stop the will of a mass of workers that had realized their worth, their potential, and most importantly, their dignity. They no longer had to bow down to paternalism, electoralism, and the capitalists to whom they sold their labor, no armed intervention, no amount of propaganda, no adventurist distraction, could take away from that fact. This isn't a fantasy, it isn't idealistic, it's a historical fact, that revolutions are possible, have happened, succeeded, and that the opportunity presents itself sooner than most expect. The only task at hand is to organize towards it. Agitation, education, an actual dual power structure predicated on a unified will, not on voluntarism and horizontalism.

I understand the topic at hand for the last 2 days and many more to come will be the results of the US election. But the US is not the only liberal democracy that increasingly creates disappointment among the social majority. After all the posting about the various liberals that make up the US electoral environment, it is imperious that nobody falls into despair. Not in a self-care way, not in the way most left-liberals have been talking about, referring to an abstract sense of "preparing", but because of the simple necessity for this election to further erode any popular faith in reformism, whether it's Trump's reforms, Harris' reforms, Bernie's reforms, or Stein's reforms. Wallowing in despair is as useful as placing yet more stake into whoever is wheeled out next to promise even less, in what will most certainly be also called the most important elections of our lifetimes.

Return to the working class of the Russian Empire, of a fractured and hungry China, to the colony of Indochina, to the plantation island that was Cuba. And I urge you to exercise some perspective. These masses of people had suffered more than you for longer than you. Nobody's asking you to feel guilty about your economic position in the world, we're asking you to realize that, for as long as there have been modes of production predicated on the exploitation, division and discrimination of a producing class, there have always been options, better options than sinking into despondent depression. They have managed to cast off their yoke and build towards a society not based on exploitation. They're not utopias, and mistakes have been and will be committed, but they all realized and understood that it's better to commit our own mistakes, than to toil under the rational oppression by another class for any longer.

[hexhomos]

Hello fellow Jayce defender.

First off, virtual kisses on both your cheeks for your Arcane analysis. They're refreshing to read, and insightful as well.

Something that's always bothered me about the way fans interact with Jayce is assuming that he's always the one making the mistakes in any of his relationships. It's almost funny in a way how they strip other characters of their autonomy and arcs just so they can point out how Jayce is failing his partners.

With Mel and Viktor especially, there's this narrative that Jayce simultaneously ignores both of their needs while also prioritising one over the other. Either he neglects Viktor to go and swoon over Mel, or he abandons his relationship with Mel to go play science with Viktor, or he neglects both to go do his own things while they suffer through their own plots.

And it's fascinating how incredibly mistaken these people are, and also how they reduce his character to only being important when he's in a relationship.

I'm here like, "hey, do you wanna discuss the reason for how Jayce seemingly knows how to navigate the ways of high class society very easily is probably because he's had to rely on sponsorships and donations for most of his youth to find his research because his house is too poor to be able afford it?"

Or "It's canonical that Jayce only ever had one friend in his youth before Viktor, and that was the daughter of his main sponsor, do you think it's interesting that this indicates he probably had difficulty making or maintaining friendships and that this is possibly a symptom of the Academy mainly housing elite and rich students so they couldn't relate to his struggles and he couldn't relate to theirs?"

But no, people just want to hate on him for not being the picture perfect boytoy in a relationship.

And I mean, it's not like it's just reduced to Jayce either. So many other characters have had similar treatments where they're reduced to either their most basic qualities or mischaracterised entirely. And I'm really not trying to be the fandom police or whatever - everyone interprets differently - I just find it frustrating is all.

Anyways, you're cool.

YES I never have time to talk about this bc people don't give a fuck but in Jayce's journals we even see him stewing with envy and petty rage at this star-rising student on the academy that he sees as the example of a perfect prodigy (in opposition to how much Jayce fucks things up...)

It also strongly suggests he's on a scholarship, which ties into his suicide attempt.

Jayce is keeping his experiments a secret from everyone to avoid the blowback and isolating himself further and further when they don't work. Jayce is flawed! He's proud of his dream pitch to the point of hilarity. Jayce doesn't like socializing, he does it out of obligation! Even when he's being raised to a councilor position in s1 he's PANICKING. He doesn't want the fucking job, he doesn't like the parties nor the people, his truest honest self is that moment in season 2 where he declares the lab was always his home, and so was Viktor.

But even then he subsumes his own wants spends most of s1 trying to attend to the needs of other people. He routinely asks Viktor if he's alright, if he wants to come up to do the presentation, if he's sure those experiments are safe, etc. He tries to make Heimerdinger proud despite his constant rejections of their projects, and only turns on him when he threatens viktor's wellbeing. The reason why he doesn't announce anything on progress day is that he Was listening to Heimers so-called wisdom and it only bit him in the ass. Jayce gets himself in trouble with the council by being too naive and assuming his new post will allow him to crackdown on Piltovan corruption aided by the Hexgates. Majority of the complaints wrt relationships I see people making of him are just wildly exaggerated. "He was neglecting viktor" bro he talks about viktor in nearly every scene he has with mel 😭 viktor is the one who isolates himself and randomly disappears at times bc he's a grown man with his own boundaries.

Jayce's entire life is defined by the transactional nature of his existence, his work, the patronage receives - all depending on how much he can play the showpony role without fucking it up. It's not a comfortable position. Jayce is stressing out the whole damn show because if one person isn't pissed at him, someone else will be, and it always comes down to revokable money, investments, social standing. if he really was as uncaring and well-off as some claim he wouldn't give a shit. He could just coast along life, but that's not what he's doing ever. He only 'frees' himself in season 2 by abandoning his life's dream and the rotten reality that existed around it. Which is kind of bleak, but at least its over.

[phantasm-echo]

POV: you wake up in the middle of your own autopsy with force powers then immediately get brainwashed into falling to the dark side

I was reminded of the fact that I haven’t drawn inquisitor!fives’ autopsy scars in way too long so here I am, delivering a few too many Fives 💀

Anyway I know I don’t post much about the AU on here so props to anyone who knows what’s going on here even slightly, I’ve decided to nerf siren!echo (who WAS part of this AU yes I know quite random) but since him being turned into a siren kinda limits what I can do with him story wise he is now an AU of the AU.

That means the name I came up with for the au (dead mean walking/swimming or dmw(s) as I’ve been tagging it) is kinda irrelevant. I’ll just call this the inquisitor fives AU but if you have any AU name suggestions feel free to drop them.

Here are some of the major factors of the AU:

It gets worse before it gets better

(WARNING: there are quite a few heavy topics covered in the AU such as torture, dehumanisation and su*cidal thoughts, so pls read at your own discretion)

- fives wakes up in the middle of his own autopsy with force sensitivity, then gets brainwashed into falling to the Dark Side by Palpatine. As an Inquisitor, he does not remember anything about his life because those memories were blocked by Palpatine.

- Palpatine discovers that Fives is essentially immortal, and any injuries inflicted on him will heal no matter how bad.

- when echo gets rescued from skako minor, he is recalled to Kamino for experimentation, first of all so they can figure out what the Techno Union did to him, second of all to see how he survived his injuries. Nala se, who knows that fives came back to life, theorises that since he and echo were tube twins they share the “immortality”. He is kept on Kamino for VERY extensive experimentation where terrible things happen to him (cough vivisection cough lobotomy) and so never joins Clone Force 99 even if he did work with them on Anaxes.

- Fives in this time is sent out on many missions by Palpatine that involve him unaliving many people, and after the rise of the Empire he hunts a few Jedi.

- Fox, who throughout the war had experienced many blackout missions where he woke up afterwards covered in blood, is the last living Coruscant Guard commander. (Thorn dies, stone vanishes one day, Thire mistakes Vader for a Jedi and pays the price) Despite the best efforts of his son secretary Dogma (no way!?) Fox has very little will to live, is extremely depressed and borderline suicidal, he would like nothing more than to bite the dust, but still feels he has a duty to the very few remaining corries and so tries to keep it together (he is failing)

- one day Palpatine decides he doesn’t need Fox to do his bidding anymore since he has much better assets at his disposal (Fives), and decides it would be ironic to sic his pet clone inquisitor onto Fox. Fives still doesn’t remember anything, and only knows that Fox is responsible for the main scars on his body and believes fox is the reason he doesn’t remember most of his life, and so sets out to kill fox. They battle it out (ref to that one animation wip I posted) and fives is on the verge of killing fox (who didn’t really try to fight that much, like I said he would very much like to die and dying at the hand of the vod he “killed” seems fitting to him) when he gets a sudden vision of echo.

- all fives knows is echo is extremely important to him and must be rescued and that snaps him out of palpatine’s control. He knows he probably can’t rescue echo alone, and since fox has already been betrayed by the empire he decides “fuck it” and basically kidnaps fox and they run. They make a deal, that once echo has been found, Fives will put Fox out of his misery (fox feels that fives should be the only person to kill him, and only goes along with the plan because he refuses to let anyone else kill him)

- fox and fives proceed to go on an intergalactic road trip to “rescue echo” even though neither of them know how to do that. They become closer friends throughout, and fives slowly regains bits and pieces of the Before

- meanwhile during the destruction of Kamino, the bad batch stumble on echo and rescue him and he stays with them for a little bit before leaving with Rex

- meanwhile Dogma helps the rest of the remaining Corries desert, kills too many storm troopers, and tries to go after his buir fox and the bastard inquisitor who kidnapped him

This is the main stuff you need to know for the AU haha so if you’ve got new name suggestions I’m all ears ty!!

[blue-jisungs]

love.

[ song inspo ! ] love. by wave to earth

[ author’s note ! ] i literally had an idea and started writing this fic on 25th of november 2023. its 22nd of november 2024 btw. ANYWHO. i do hope you enjoy it BC I SURE DID. treat it as a small warm up for whats abt to come in the summer (hopefully). a bigbigbiiig shout out to my bby @fairyhaos who proofread it and corrected my silly mistakes. yena i love you with my whole heart im so grateful you managed to stay sane while doing that <3

[ summary ! ] mingyu is VERY whipped for you ever since first meeting and he shows it through his actions, rather than words.

[ extras ! ] idol!mingyu x animal shelter worker!yn ft wonwoo the bestie. mostly fluff but there is a bittersweet moment (read: a pinch of angst and whole lot of comfort)

[ warnings ! ] mention of animal death, abuse and poor keeping conditions; swearing, food (i love soup if u couldnt tell), alcohol mention, couple of swears, wound and blood (nothing major though), reader is said to have a period (idk if thats a warning but i figured id list it too),,, painfully cute n teeth rotting <3

[ word count ! ] 12k

the coldness in the room made you shiver, despite a hoodie and blanket on your lap. with a heavy heart you looked around all the cages and then at the old dog napping on your lap. 

“i’m sorry baby” you mumbled and with shaky hands clicked ‘post’. 

putting your phone away, you focused on petting the grey-furred dog. you’d start working once she was awake.

“okay, time for a break!” hoshi yelled out and ran to grab his water. 

wonwoo slumped his shoulders, only to stretch them afterwards.

“any plans for today after this?” mingyu asked, approaching his friend. he shook his head as a no, brown hair falling on his face. “i thought we could go out and grab something to eat. there’s a new ramen place that opened up.”

“sure, why not” wonwoo smiled and reached for his phone. mingyu noticed the slight change in his friend’s features as he looked down at the device, the corners of his mouth dropping down slowly.

“what happened?” mingyu tilted his head. wonwoo typed something quickly on his phone and a small sigh left his lips. 

“remember my friend, y/n? she sometimes swings by” he asked, putting away his phone. mingyu nodded “she’s having some financial difficulties.”

“aw man, that sucks” mingyu grunted, genuinely feeling worried. a friend of a friend was someone who he’d help, even if he doesn’t know you well. “what happened?”

“it’s a long story…” wonwoo mumbled and suddenly his eyes sparkled. “maybe she’ll tag along with us for the ramen? i’ll pay for her. but maybe it would take her mind off things…”

“sure, no problem!” mingyu grinned. “and i’ll finally get to properly meet her”

“just… please don’t scare her” his friend snickered and mingyu just rolled his eyes playfully. 

arriving at a small but cozy restaurant, you took off your coat and hat. the delicious smell of food filled your nostrils and you went further inside, looking for wonwoo and his friend. finally, you found them in a small private room. you smiled upon noticing mingyu. 

“oh, y/n! why didn’t you text me when you arrived?” wonwoo asked and you just shook your head.

“my fingers froze, i literally couldn’t type” you giggled and noticed his friend standing up. “also, hello. mingyu right? hi. i’m y/n.”

“hi, yes, i’m mingyu. it’s nice to finally meet you, y/n. i’ve heard a lot about you” the man smiled, his canines showing. he reached his hand out to greet you and you had to pull yourself together. 

“good things, i assume?” you chuckled and shook his warm, large hand. 

since he and wonwoo were roommates, you sometimes bumped into mingyu when you were visiting your best friend. but it was usually just ‘hi’ or some small talk. you were basically strangers. however, it was no secret that mingyu was your type; even wonwoo knew this. (which was why he was always putting off the meeting of you two or told mingyu to stay in his room when you were visiting). you were always too shy to make a move though.

“as if there were bad things about you, y/n” wonwoo cut in, patting the place next to him. you finally tore your eyes away from mingyu and sat next to your friend, smiling at him. “have you guys ordered yet?”

“no, mingyu insisted that we wait for you” wonwoo tapped the menu in front of him and handed it to you. “but we’ve already decided what we want.”

while you scanned through the positions on the menu, mingyu couldn’t take his eyes off you. sure, he’d seen you a couple of times but only for a mere moment when passing you in the hallway. you looked so cute right now… with your cheeks dusted pink from the cold, some snowflakes still resting atop of your head (but they melted within seconds). your brows knitting adorably while you were focused on the menu and–

mingyu felt wonwoo’s gaze on him. he gulped and smiled awkwardly at his friend, looking away from you (temporarily).

after ordering, you started chatting about some casual stuff: your work, their preparation for comebacks, what was the latest and all of that. once your ramens arrived, you knew that the topic would eventually come out.

“and what about your shelter, y/n?” wonwoo asked, digging into his meal. his ebony eyes looked at you tenderly from above his steamed glasses. mingyu tilted his head, like a curious puppy. you sighed and shook your head, slowly stirring the warm soup. noodles and toppings swirled and interlocked with each other.

“for context, i do volunteer work at a shelter outside the town” you explained to mingyu. he was listening carefully, picking the meat in his ramen. “and i’ve been doing that for like five years now. each winter was harsh but now…”

you bit your bottom lip and sent him a reassuring smile. your chopsticks kept stirring softly, absentmindedly. the bottle green shaded seaweed tangled with the fresh egg yolk spilling into the broth.

“for a while now, the animal food has been becoming  more expensive. and so have the bills. during summer, there was an accident, and we had a flood because one of the pipes broke down. on top of that, one of our doggies had to be taken to urgent care… it all cost us so much money that now… we barely can pay bills” you mumbled, staring at the droplets of fat swimming in your ramen. “i’m doing my best, working two, three jobs at a time but…”

“but it’s not enough. you posted an announcement about closing down, right?” wonwoo asked and mingyu’s eyes went wide. three jobs? at a time? that sounded like a nightmare. you took a bite and nodded sadly. 

“if nothing changes by the end of december, we’ll have to. i don’t even want to think about what we will do with all the animals” you sighed and looked at mingyu “but hey, life. rich people will go buying purebred dogs or puppies meanwhile… i'm not saying it’s bad, but you know how it is.”

“could i go see your shelter?” mingyu suddenly asked, causing wonwoo to frown. you nodded, taking a sip of the warm soup. your friend fixed his glasses, hiding his puzzled expression.

“it’s an hour drive, though” he chimed in, reaching to pour you and mingyu some tea. 

“i don’t mind. i’d like to see it and if you need some help, just let me know” mingyu offered and flashed you a toothy smile. you saw him frown a little and suddenly grab his phone. he tapped something twice and returned his attention to you.

“i really appreciate it” you responded, looking the man in the eye and sending him a genuine smile. mingyu’s gaze lingered on you for a while longer before you suddenly heard wonwoo choking on ramen.

mingyu never would have thought that he’d be spending a free weekend (a rare occurrence!) in the suburbs, ankle deep in snow. the animal shelter was in front of him and he could already get a whiff of the… not so pleasant… smell of wet fur and dog food. 

suddenly, he heard wonwoo laughing. 

“the look on your face” his friend snickered. “better start getting used to it.”

wonwoo insisted on tagging along with mingyu. knowing you, you’d get him to help you with some stuff. he reasoned the more hands you had to work, the quicker the job would get done but the truth was that he didn’t want to leave mingyu alone with you. yet. 

it’s not like he didn’t trust him, obviously. it was just… you were his friend… and he was his friend… before he started playing cupid, he had to test the waters. 

barking of dogs ripped through the air, echoing in the silence. 

“yah, yah! bunny, calm down!” 

wonwoo nudged mingyu and they went into the direction of the noise, snow crunching underneath their feet. 

they saw you with a big, white dog almost blending with the snowy landscape. your hat almost fell on your eyes, a big scarf covering your lips. 

“stop it!” you grunted and yanked the leash. the dog stopped in its tracks, ears pointing up upon hearing the strangers approach “oh, you’re here!” 

the dog barked but stood still in front of you, as if ready to protect. 

“hi!” mingyu waved, instantly feeling stupid. this was dumb. and embarrassing. 

you cracked a smile and fixed your scarf, waving back. 

“let’s go back inside” you said, tugging the leash. “i think bunny had enough.”

“bunny? what a cute name” mingyu murmured.

“she’s white and fluffy… and jumps. she jumps so much” you breathed out the last part and started going back “follow me!”

“are you alone today? or is someone with you?” wonwoo asked. the dog indeed skipped a lot, white tail whooshing in air with excitement. 

“all alone” you answered. 

you were inside in no time, the smell hitting mingyu more clearly. he scrunched his nose and ignored wonwoo’s yet another snicker. they watched you put the dog back in the cage – which was hard due to its resistance. however, mingyu was impressed. one sharp look and a pointer finger was all it took for bunny to obediently sit inside the cage. 

you stayed in jackets because the heating had to be used reasonably. you brought tea in a flask that you made beforehand and some snacks. you sat in the office that all the workers shared. 

mingyu noticed you had a fleece pullover with the logo of the shelter sewn on your right. 

”thank you for visiting, i really appreciate that you wanted to spend your precious free time with us, here” you smiled and poured them the steaming tea. its faint but pleasant smell filled the room.

“no, no. the pleasure is all mine, i promise. there’s other workers too, right?” mingyu asked and looked around. there were a lot of pictures framed, mostly of the staff with the animals. but there were some of you and wonwoo. cute. 

“yeah but i usually take the weekend. my other friend will be here in a couple of hours. you see, they’re all students so they appreciate their free time and we’re volunteers, after all” you explained. “i can handle working and going here, the commute is just a joke” 

“oh, where do you work?” mingyu asked, genuinely interested.

“i’m a vet. i finished my studies and stayed in the field. because of that i can help here too” you explained and saw how his face morphed into an impressed one.

“woah. good to know, i’ll call you if there’s something wrong with my dogs” he smiled and wonwoo mirrored the gesture.

“you have dogs? can i see them?” you shifted in your seat, sparkles of excitement in your eyes. mingyu thought it was absolutely adorable – but hey, he loves dogs too, he would react the same way. 

“they're called aji, bobpul and bobtori!” he grinned and showed you his wallpaper. 

“oh they are so cute, what the hell?” you whined, a pout forming on your lips. “ i love them.”

mingyu sighed, heart beating hard against his rib cage. wonwoo just rolled his eyes playfully, crossing his arms on his chest.

“you love all animals” he snickered.

“i do, you caught me. do they live with you?” you asked, leaning forward in curiosity.

“no, they live with my parents. i sadly don’t have much time to take care of them and i don’t want to leave them all alone in my apartment” mingyu said softly. wonwoo nodded and stood up.

“before we get to work i’ll go use the bathroom real quick” he said and left. mingyu watched his silhouette disappear and once his friend was gone, he leaned forward to meet you halfway. you matched his mischievous smirk that came about on his features.

“let me use this opportunity to ask you one thing: can i have your number?” the corner of his lips rose up and your cheeks dusted with pink. “just, you know… i’d love to help more, i love animals. and this grumpy cat would bite my head off if he knew i asked you.”

“oh yeah. he’s a real meanie sometimes” you chuckled and nodded. “sure, i’ll give you it. some extra help will always be appreciated… i hope you won’t change your mind after today, though.”

you winked and he just chuckled, giving you his phone to type your name. you could be sure he wouldn’t, even if he left exhausted.

mingyu was whipped. he knew it was wrong – you were his best friend’s best friend, he shouldn’t really feel this way. especially only after two meetings. but not only were you mesmerizingly pretty, your heart was also so pure. his plan on obtaining your number worked perfectly, so now he could text you whenever he wanted. 

and he was so smitten that he did. you basically texted everyday so he was aware of all the hard work you were doing for the animals. 

he wanted to help, he really did, but comeback preparations kept him busy too. so he observed slightly from afar, checking on the shelter’s instagram for any new information. he also spread the word amongst his friends and left some hints for carats. 

but nothing seemed to change for you, bills still being quite overwhelming. 

“i’m just so tired, you know?”

one day you called him while you were alone in the shelter to guard over the animals before your colleague arrived. 

“i work my ass off but no one seems interested in adopting the old doggies or cats. they all care about puppies” you sighed, looking at the calendar. it was halfway through november so still a lot of time left until you’d have to shut down.

“i’ll take one” he blurted out, not entirely processing what left his mouth. 

“don’t you already have three dogs…?” you hummed, amused.

“well… yeah…” mingyu chuckled, melting upon hearing (and imagining) the smile that formed on your lips. 

“i’m not stopping you but consider your dogs too, though. i don’t want you to do that for me but rather for the dogs” you hummed tenderly “but i appreciate it, you’re really sweet” 

he grinned and caught a glimpse of his face in the reflection of a nearby window. his smile dropped, shaking his head aggressively.

pull. yourself. together.

“i’ll think about it. maybe an old senior dog would like to spend its years with some energetic friends? trust me, my babies would entertain anyone” mingyu puffed his chest proudly upon thinking about aji, bobpul and bobtori. “oh, by the way my next weekend is free. i’ll stop by to help then, if you'd like?”

“oh, that’s great! we’ll have a cat food delivery so some strong arms would be useful” you explained excitedly and mingyu huffed, pleased, already thinking of ways in which he could flex his biceps. 

if he had listened more carefully, he wouldn’t have had to curse mentally at his own stupidity. 

mingyu was scared of cats. not that he didn't like them, they just… were evil. and can freak out with their cold stare… 

which was why, right now, instead of being happy that he was alone with you… he was… scared.

“cats?” he repeated after you. 

“cats. they're a bit further so that’s why you didn’t see them last time… and i’m happy you agreed to help me with them because i’ve got loads of work” you hummed and rubbed your arms. 

(actually he was the one who proposed helping and you agreed.) 

“yeah. sure. of course… no problem” mingyu chuckled nervously, hair rising on his neck at the mere thought of touching a cat.

you turned around and scanned his face. 

“what?” he asked, blinking slowly.

“you don’t like cats, do you?” you raised an eyebrow and he gulped. guilty.

“no, of course not. love those little fellas, actually” he shook his head and was taken by surprise when you grabbed him by the arm and led to the section with cats. 

some of the felines started meowing, some of them not caring at all. 

“good… i’d have to tell wonwoo if it were otherwise” you snickered and pointed at a green bag in the corner “would you mind carrying it over here? i might as well use your muscles while you’re here. it’s not like i haven't told you that those will come in handy, by the way” 

mingyu grinned and obliged. the bag with cat food was really heavy so he was a bit shocked.

“don’t tell me you carry it yourself… “ he whispered, shocked and you smiled, opening it once it was close enough.

“a girl gotta do what she gotta do, especially when i’m alone here” you shrugged “but hey, i don’t need to go to the gym because of that”

you shared a laugh and you kneeled.

“now, we’ll feed them first. just do that, easy” you hummed and showed him. 

you opened the cage and grabbed an empty bowl. quickly closing the cage again, so the cat wouldn’t escape, you scooped a handful of cat food with a small shovel. at the sound of the snacks rattling against the bowl, all the cats started stirring and meowing in unison. then you opened the cage and swiftly put it back where it was. 

“when they’re busy eating, i also refill their water. i usually put it in the other corner because cats in their natural habitat don’t drink in the same place where they eat… but it’s okay if you put it next to the food” you shrugged, grabbing the water bowl. 

“that’s all. easy, right?”

right.

you stood up and patted his back encouragingly. 

“you do that row, i’ll do this one. also, do you mind if i play some music? i usually do that when i’m here…” you asked a bit shyly.

“sure, no problem!” mingyu smiled and stared at the next cat he was supposed to feed. its’ green eyes scanned his… threateningly… 

the sound of wave to earth discography ripped gently through the halls as you began work. mingyu gulped and shuffled closer, hand resting above the lock of the cage. 

he kept opening and closing his palm in hesitation. there’s nothing that could go wrong. it was just a cat. a poor, homeless cat… that just wanted to be fed. nothing more. 

mingyu took a deep breath, as if preparing to dive head first into a freezing cold ocean, and rapidly opened the cage, grabbing the bowls. 

the cat sent him a judging stare, not moving from its place. refilling the bowls, spilling a bit of water and food, he noticed the animal’s nose twitching curiously. 

then he opened the cage and put them back in. the moment the container with food touched the blanket, the feline rose up and approached it. mingyu closed the cage a bit too harshly, a loud clunk disturbing the peaceful atmosphere. 

you turned around to check what was going on and noticed his buff chest rising up and down a bit irregularly. 

“is everything okay, mingyu?” you asked worriedly. he looked at you, a boyish smile painting on his lips. 

“yes, absolutely. i was just scared it’ll escape…” mingyu chuckled anxiously and calmed down, especially after hearing his name coming from your lips. it sounded so… nice and delicate. 

“don’t worry. even if, nothing will happen” you hummed and got back to your task. 

mingyu let out a shaky breath and looked at all the cages he had to do as well. 

welp, one done. now rest of the row…

mingyu clenched his fists, trying not to be clumsy. he heard you humming along to the songs and immersed in the intimate setting of this situation. just the two of you, dimmed lights in the room and outside – snow falling, dancing and twirling in the dark sky. 

out of the blue, when he was about to close a cage, the cat inside of it slipped away. it was smooth, liquid-alike, when squeezing through a really small gap. a yelp left his lips and he started at, falling on his back. 

you whipped your head around and notice a blur of a grey tail.

“are you okay?” you asked, walking up to him. he simply dusted off his pants and nodded, a bit too stunned to speak. when he noticed you were reaching your hand out to help him stand up, there was a loud meow. “come on, let’s go find that trouble maker.”

your hand was soft and warm against his (and he thought he saw a faint blush forming on your cheeks). he stood up. you were calling the cat and pspspsing at it.

“tualha, come on! your friends want to eat too” you called gently. mingyu observed you, walking right behind. you were calm and composed - not angry at him nor the cat, not rushing. 

“tualha? that’s an unusual name” he tilted his head and saw your grin.

“a really good friend of mine came up with it” you explained. “she’s cute and fluffy but can be a meanie sometimes.”

mingyu tried to copy your actions and started calling the feline as well, the sound alerting some of the dogs. 

only when barks reached your ears were you able to localize the escapee. you noticed the grey furred cat sitting afraid in the corner of the room, pupils thin as a needle. quickly scooping the cat into your arms, you tried to calm her down.

“she has trust issues, that’s her biggest con, to tell you the truth. people get impatient when she doesn’t cuddle with them after a week or two. that’s normal but they don’t see it” your words echoed quietly against the empty corridor as you walked back.

mingyu scanned the feline. indeed, she was fluffy and majestic-looking, definitely an expensive breed. her eyes were a shade of light green, fading into faint yellow. her cute, beige nose was crunched. 

“it took her two months to open up to me” you murmured and he noticed how feather-lightly you were caressing the cat’s chin and head. you noticed his focused gaze and smiled. “she’s pretty, huh?”

to be honest, he abhorred cats. they were scary and mean. dogs, for him, were infinitely preferable. 

but maybe… well, tualha was pretty. but not as pretty as you. well, of course, you’re a human and not a cat– what was he even thinking about? 

he nodded shyly, not having enough courage to say it out loud. you came back to her cage and kneeled down to put her in. mingyu rested his hand atop of the doors, holding them open for you. 

and just when you left tualha in the cage and mingyu was about to close it, she jerked forward and with a mean hiss, swung her paw.

mingyu didn’t even feel it at first, too focused on closing the cage. it was only when your hands grabbed his with a yelp that the pain struck him like bricks falling down. 

a scratch was stretching from the knuckle below his index finger to a little below his wrist. it was deep and bleeding and he hoped it was not too serious. his face twisted in a grimace but he remained silent, mirroring your reaction.

“i knew it, she was too calm. i’m so sorry” you said, voice full of sadness. there was a pang in his heart; he did not like the emotion soaking your voice, at all. “i’’ll patch you up.”

“don’t apologize. it’s fine. it’s not like my hand is gonna fall off, hm?” he teased and followed you to the office.

“well, our cats are vaccinated so you’re going to be fine” you grinned and sat him down on your chair whereas you rushed to grab the first aid kit. his ebony eyes followed your moves. he noticed your hands were littered with scars and cuts as well. some were fresh, some faded out. there were even a couple of bite marks peeking from under your long sleeves. 

you noticed his gaze and just smiled, finally fishing out the saline solution. 

“i work with gloves but as you can see, it’s inevitable” you sent him an encouraging smile and rose your arm up, the sleeve of your hoodie rolling down and revealing more of the former injuries. “i guess that’s what our jobs have in common, the risk of getting hurt.”

you grabbed his hand and sent him a small smile. he was so focused on your glowing beauty that the next words you said only hit when he felt them.

“this will sting.”

he hissed, the feeling setting his teeth on edge. 

“you’re a big boy though, it’ll just be a short while” you teased and he scoffed. 

“will i get a band aid?” mingyu pouted dramatically and adored the way even your eyes smiled.

“oh you will. believe it or not but it has dogs on it!” you opened your mouth in a fake shock expression and you two laughed, the pain somehow… disappearing into thin air. 

not even once in your life had someone picked up a phone call from you so fast. 

“hello?” mingyu’s voice was energetic despite it being 9am on a thursday morning. 

“hi, mingyu! that was quick” you chuckled, pouring hot water into your cup. before he could answer, you continued. “i was wondering if you’d want to accompany me–“

“yes” 

a laugh left your lips and you put away the kettle, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand. that man was impossible. 

“you didn’t even let me finish, dummy” you fought a grin (unsuccessfully – it spread on your lips widely).

“so? i’d like to accompany you to whatever. even if you were offering me to clean all the cages or dig through trash” his nonchalant voice rang in your head and you had to breathe in. why was he like this…? 

“well, luckily for you it’s none of that. i’m going shopping for supplies. food, toys, bowls, medical equipment, all of that. i just figured… i’d ask if you wanna tag along” your voice grew small, overtaken by sudden shyness. 

“of course. is that a date?” his question was followed by a somewhat nervous laughter. 

“yeah, sure” your voice was calm, emotionless even. however, inside you suddenly got all warm and giddy. 

“great, i’ll see you later then!” you could swear that what left his lips was a squeal but he hung up so quickly you couldn’t really process it. 

and neither the fact that you haven’t given him any details. 

and yet, somehow, you managed to meet him. after texting him the address, mingyu arrived at the parking lot. 

he rushed to you, a huge checkered scarf covering his cheeks. 

“i hope you hadn’t been waiting for too long! it’s freezing cold, let’s go inside!” he gasped dramatically “also, hi” 

“hi!” you grinned and met his joyous expression. he looked really adorable all cozied up with a puffy hat and red nose. 

snow swirled around you two before you reached the store, pleasant warmth hitting you upon entering the building. 

you grabbed the cart and whipped out your phone to look at the checklist you made. 

“thank you for coming with me. these tasks can get a bit boring alone” you hummed, leading the way. aisles of animal food were spread out in front of you, different brands displayed on the shelves.

“oh, i heard that one is bad for animals, isn’t it? it contains too much wheat and it can be harmful” mingyu pointed at a specific, ruby colored bag. you looked at him amused, blinking in awe. 

“what a smart cookie you are” you teased, nodding your head “and obviously as for sugar…”

“corn syrup” he puffed his chest and you giggled, walking up to the trusted brand displayed.

“and do you know which chocolate is the worst for dogs?” you asked with a cocky smile. his, on the other hand, dropped gradually. he pushed the cart closer to you and stood walked up closer.

“white, duh. it has the most amount of sugar!” he rolled his eyes, a confident smile forming on his lips.

“actually, no” you laughed and stood on your tippy toes to reach the animal food bag. it was just out of your reach, and your fingers merely brushed against it. “it’s the safest, if i dare say. it contains the least amount of cocoa powder which is very toxic for dogs-”

you felt mingyu’s hand on your waist as he stood behind you and reached for the item. you stuttered, falling flat back onto your feet.

“i, uh. that is why the darker and bitter chocolate is the uh, the-” you stumbled over your own words as he pulled down the food effortlessly. “the more danger it is to, um, the dogs.”

“hm. i didn’t know that” he tilted his head, canines poking out as he gave a smug smirk. you shook your head gently and huffed. so that was the game he was playing. 

as he loaded five more of those bags into the cart, you tried to wipe out the memory of how gentle his touch was. 

“okay, ma’am. what next?” he asked enthusiastically and you smiled, taking him by the arm. mingyu pushed the cart, following your lead. 

“some toys and blankets. we are running out, you know how it is with the cats…” you sighed and showed him the target aisle. it was full of various colorful toys in different shapes and sizes. you kneeled down to the lowest shelf and grabbed a cherry-shaped squeaky toy. you looked up at mingyu, exchanging grins. “one thing i never do is limit myself when it comes to these. i like to think that, you know… pets are like kids. they definitely have their favorite toys and blankies. maybe this will be the one, you know?”

“you’re right. even my dogs have their faves” he hummed and kneeled down to match your level.

gently taking the cherry-shaped toy, he squeezed it once. it made a loud noise and your face flushed red with embarrassment. the man just laughed wholeheartedly at your cute reaction.

“look, you’re matching shades now!” he put it next to your face and you slapped his hand with a laugh.

“shut up”

you spent an hour or so in the aisle, goofing around with the silly toys. mingyu picked a lot of cute ones (and some ugly too - but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that), whereas you focused on warm blankets. all of them had small drawings of cats, dogs and different animals. 

“before we go to check out, let me grab one more thing!” you announced suddenly, running off. mingyu was left flabbergasted but stayed in place, patiently waiting for you to come back. in the meantime he checked his phone and his eyes widened upon realizing a couple of… aggressive messages have been sent from wonwoo.

hello we were supposed to play today ?!

brother ?!?!?!?!

now hold on where are you 

what the fuck

why and for what reason is your and YNS ICON BOTH IN THE SAME PLACE

MINGYU. 

HELLO ??????

mingyu panicked, just remembering that wonwoo and him had the ability to see each other’s location on find my app. and, apparently, he had yours too. heart beating like crazy, finger hung up in the air above the keyboard, thinking of a response. 

“boo!”

he yelped, almost dropping his phone. you let out a gasp and helped him catch it mid-air, eyes wide.

“i’m sorry! i didn’t think you- you’d get scared like a little girl” you choked through laughter, grabbing his arm. he let out a shaky breath and couldn’t help but laugh too; it was just too contagious. as you clutched your stomach, the cute sound escaping your lips, his phone started exploding with notifications. 

“it’s… you caught me off guard, you jokester” he mumbled shyly as you calmed down, finally looking at him “and by the way, wonwoo knows we’re here right now”

he watched your eyes widen and smile drop. pointing at your face with a snort, he nodded.

“now that was funny” mingyu snickered and slowly started looking for the checkout.

“you’re going the wrong way! and also, what do you mean he knows?” you asked, snatching his arm before he could wander too far. 

“he texted me” mingyu shrugged “i didn’t reply though. someone prevented me from doing that” he pointedly nudged your elbow and you rolled your eyes. 

you arrived at the cashier, loading all the products at the pay desk. you were so focused on hiding the thing you’d snatched at last second that the words ‘cash or card?’ hit you too late.

“card!” you said loudly and whipped your wallet, looking for your credit card. when you finally found it amongst all the other cards, you put it to the register… but were met with a soft clink of plastics bumping. 

mingyu put his card down first with a satisfied smile. 

“consider it a non-anonymous donation for the shelter” he winked at you and started packing the bags. you blinked slowly, frozen. “chop, chop, y/n. the kitties are waiting”

“asshole” you grumbled and helped him put the stuff into bags. 

you just grabbed a box of chocolates you snatched earlier. you thought that’s the least you can do to repay the favor. you put them aside and joined mingyu in packing the items into the car trunk.

“i’d love to help more but i promised something to wonwoo so i need to go” mingyu sighed, stealing a glance at you. you looked hesitant. 

“it’s okay, you already helped enough. no one likes the shopping duty” you giggled and reached for the box. “i was gonna give that to you later but since you’re going, here” 

you pushed the box of sweets into his hands a bit awkwardly but now he didn’t have the ability to decline since he was already holding them. he looked at you stunned, mouth slightly falling apart. his heart skipped like crazy. 

“thank you for today. and you really didn’t have to pay, like i know you have a lot of money but…” you joked. 

“hey, give me a call and i’ll buy the shelter for you” mingyu pursued his lips in a teasing manner and you just laughed. 

realization sank in and your eyes widened. 

“you don’t mean that” you huffed, shaking your head. that’d be too much for one person… realistically speaking, investment in the shelter (that wasn’t even yours) was just pointless. it was on the verge of closing for a reason. 

mingyu got scared he pushed the line and made you uncomfortable. it sounded as if he was bragging about his money… do you hate him now? do you think he thinks he’s better than you?! just wanted to hide his embarrassment, trying to think of an excuse, answer, explanation… anything!  

“i mean, thanks but… no, i mean… that’s…” you started stumbling over your words yet again that day. this man was going to be the death of you. 

“you know, the offer stands. i’ll get going now, bye!” he blurted out hurriedly and leaned in. 

his cold lips pecked your equally cold cheek and he walked away in a rush. 

you watched him disappear into his car, snow falling on your face. frozen, you couldn’t believe what he just did – or rather, how awkwardly cute the gesture was. 

a few, long moments passed before you closed the trunk with a loud, fond huff, fighting back a huge smile. 

“...no, i won’t, mom” you groaned, drawing hearts and dogs in the snow with your free, gloved hand “he’s just helping me, that’s all. since you, by the way, couldn’t”

“first of all, im busy. he recorded his parts earlier. and i think he was the first one to do so, which is… strange” wonwoo’s voice echoed in your ear “second of all, even if he’s just helping, he’s a man”

“so are you” you snickered and doodled a small cat with glasses, reassembling wonwoo. 

you looked up with a smirk and met mingyu’s amused face. 

“wh– well, yes. he’s… just… i don’t appreciate that. at all” he sighed and you could practically see him fixing his glasses in sheer frustration. 

“what? me making friends with your friends?” you teased and mingyu drew a small puppy next to cat wonwoo. you watched him do that with a cute smile. 

“he’s just a friend?” wonwoo asked and you fell silent, feeling caught in his trap. 

mingyu sent you a puzzled look and you just shook your head. 

“don’t you have games to play? shut up” you grunted and lifted your phone to hang up. “love you, stinker” 

“now that was ru–” your best friend’s voice was cut off by you ending the call. 

a small crease formed between mingyu’s brows as his finger halted movements in the cold snow. ‘love you’. something bitter spread out over his heart and he couldn’t put his finger on it but– 

“he’s such a mom” you let out a deep sigh and tucked your phone away, standing up “let’s go?”

obviously after your shopping date with mingyu, wonwoo was all over it. asking questions and making comments, he was either preventing you from further meet ups or encouraging them. suggesting some, even. you couldn’t crack this sneaky cat’s plans but one thing was for sure: he planted an idea of having a crush in your head. and you weren’t sure how to deal with that. 

mingyu grabbed the leash of four dogs. he had three larger stray dogs: a beige and black stray called toffee, a gray-furred tramp who looked just like he was taken out from lady and the tramp, and nami who was a somehow ginger and somehow blonde furred dog that loved to steal. he was also walking bunny, the jumpy samoyed he had met before. you, on the other hand, were walking with six smaller dogs as that was the limit. your group contained of two chihuahuas that were taken away from a puppy mill, minnie and mickey, a chaotic abandoned shih tzu named rocket, a white stray with couple of black spots which were the reason for naming him pongo (mingyu started noticing a pattern of the animals being named after movie characters… and he found it beyond cute), and last but not least – a three legged dachshund that was named slinky (after the famous toy dog in toy story series). 

“you name them all?” mingyu asked as you began the walk to the nearest park. usually volunteers from high schools would come and do this but due to it being the winter holiday, most of them were unable at this time. hence why you asked mingyu to help (which sounds rather silly but is the truth). 

“usually. when people drop them off, they rarely have name tags. we often give them cute names or names after characters because… you know, look at pongo. he’s not a dalmatian but just looks like a shrunken version of him” you smiled, snow crunching under your feet. the dogs were calm;  even though they were excited — they loved whenever they could leave the shelter — they were trained to be calmer on such walks. 

you looked at him shyly, poking your cheek with your tongue. 

“and also i’m a firm believer that they need cute names. and i just like animated movies, sue me” you murmured and he giggled at your adorable face.

mingyu tilted his head suddenly and pursed his lips. 

“but there are some other cats and dogs not named after anything, right?” he pointed at rocket. “like this little fella here” 

you giggled. the cold bit your cheeks gently, falling snow swirling in front of your eyes. 

“that’s right. rocket or like… coco, have you met coco?” you asked and he shook his head. even if he did, he probably wouldn’t know. “some of our pets got here because their owners had to part ways. maybe they moved out, maybe they were too sick to take care of… they don’t always tell us. so we just take them in. or sometimes we just take strays that do have name tags on… like teddy! we also call him stinky but, uhm… he doesn’t stink, don’t worry”

“i see” he hummed, rubbing his hands. the dogs were really friendly and calm, making him smile in amusement. and, regarding stinky… maybe that’s just a nickname. you called wonwoo ‘stinker’ earlier…

“my three babies wouldn’t be so peaceful. by the way, i think my parents are coming over soon! if they take aji, bobpul and bobtori with them” mingyu puffed his chest out like a proud dad and you were weak in the knees for such a sight. “i’ll send you photos”

“you better! they seemed so cute” you grinned. 

“do you have a pet at home?” he asked, chilly air filling his lungs. 

“ah, i wish. i’m too busy to have one on my own. but these are my kids, so i don’t mind” you grinned.

the walk was peaceful,  the doggies were very obedient, as usual. you even made small snowmen – well, snowdogs – with mingyu. you giggled as the pets sniffed the creature you made out of snow. 

the way your hands occasionally brushed against each other as you shaped the snow dog’s face made you blush… and you thought he was red too but you blamed it on the cold. 

mingyu was rolling balls of snow to form the body of a dog and his four-legged friends were running after him, a chaos of swooshing tails and mingyu’s cute giggles causing you to grin. 

you managed to make four snowdogs and you snapped a picture of your masterpiece before heading back since some of the smaller dogs started shivering a bit. 

“we’ll warm them up” you hummed. “and, us too. i’m taking you to grab some hot tea and i don’t take no as a refusal”

mingyu just sighed dramatically but nodded. 

“sure, whatever you– ah!”

“rocket!” you yelled out as the dog suddenly jolted forwards. it saw a squirrel coming down from a nearby tree and decided to chase it. other dogs must’ve caught his energetic spirit and followed him, dragging you two. 

“what’s-” mingyu was flabbergasted but suddenly saw the ginger rodent running away.

“ya, guys! stop!” you ordered with a stern voice. and it was just pure chaos. 

rocket stopped, his leash getting tangled with your legs. the squirrel made a u-turn and started running the other way. toffee was the first one to notice and jumped forward, causing mingyu to fall on his back.

“mingyu!” you gasped and wanted to help him stand but the restraining material tied around your legs caused you to tremble when slinky stood between you two, which you haven’t noticed before. mingyu sat up and you yelped when you lost control over your own limbs. 

mingyu tried to catch you but you just fell next to him. snow stuck  to your clothes and the dogs who had been pulled by the sudden crash continued nagging incessantly.

“sorry, i’m sorry” you groaned and tried to stand up but tramp made a circle around you two and started barking, entangling you further. you got pushed onto mingyu, who fell onto the slippery ground again. your hands rested against his chest as you almost fell on him fully. 

you locked eyes with him and one look was all it took for you to start laughing out loud.

“i’m so, so sorry! i don’t know what has gotten into them! they never… react that way!” you gasped out amongst your giggles and mingyu just kept laughing.

you carefully unwrapped yourself (with mingyu’s help) from the leashes and he helped you stand up, offering his gloved hand. then, finally, you began to make your way back to the shelter.

what you only noticed after opening the main gate was that you were holding hands with mingyu. you must have forgotten to let it go… and he hadn’t said anything.

as much as you loved winter and cold days brought you comfort, today was a literal reflection of your mood. dark, freezing, distanced. 

with shivering hands you dialed wonwoo’s number, the cold stone steps making the shaking of your body worse. your tears were probably frozen on your cheeks, nose runny both from crying and the temperature.

“y/n, i’m kinda busy. what’s up?” your best friend picked up and you could hear various voices in the background. he was probably out, it was a friday night after all. 

“sorry, it’s nothing, then” you said, trying not to sound off.

“are you su– ya, asshole!”

“hi y/n!” 

you subconsciously smiled upon hearing mingyu’s excited voice. you sniffed and pulled yourself together.

“hello, mingyu. how are you?” you asked, staring at the swirling snow in front of you.

“you sound a bit off… is everything okay?” he asked, genuine worry in his voice. that was your breaking point and you couldn’t help but break down again into tears, trying to pull away the speaker “wa… y/n, you’re crying? hey, what’s happening? wonwoo-!”

your best friend was quick to snatch his phone back.

“y/n, what’s going on?” wonwoo asked, voice dropping due to worry.

“it’s nothing, i just… everything just sucks today and i’m stuck” you choked through your tears “at the- the shelter”

“fuck. mingyu, have you had anything to drink?” wonwoo asked, a soft rustle coming through the speaker.

“no, i was supposed to drive chan home” mingyu’s voice sounded further away but you could still faintly hear him. frostbite started sending needle-like pain in your hands, skin drying.

“go get y/n then. i’ll order an uber for chan, he’ll understand. y/n, stay there, okay? mingyu is on his way” wonwoo told you gently. “stay on the phone with me” 

“nooo, you’re busy. don’t worry, it’s just my dramatic period ass” you mumbled, wiping your runny nose. the sole thought of mingyu seeing you in this state made you cry even harder. there goes a good impression.

“hey, it’s fine. mingyu will be there soon… nooo, why are you crying even harder?”

twenty minutes later, a car pulled into the shelter’s parking lot and you heard the creak of the main gate being open. there were the crunching footsteps of someone running in the snow, dogs barking at the sudden presence and… then, finally, mingyu stood in front of you.

“aigoo…” he whined upon seeing you all shivering, red faced. eyes swollen, nose as vibrant colored as a cherry, cheeks wet. “let’s get you home”

you shook your head.

“i locked myself out. with keys to the shelter, my car and my place. i’ll get them back in the morning when the first shift comes in” you said, voice hoarse. mingyu took off his puffy jacket in a hurry and put it over you before you could protest. then, he also took off his scarf and hat, forcing them gently on you. they were undoubtedly oversized and fell on your eyes but you looked cute. and needed warmth, of course. 

“my place, then. don’t protest, we need to warm you up” he ordered and reached his hand out. once you grabbed it, you both gloveless, he hissed at the coldness. “asap”

“asap baby…” you hummed the newjeans song and mingyu laughed, helping you stand up. then, he wrapped an arm around you and quickly wiped your cheeks. 

“you’re freezing. come on”

you let him guide you to the car. mingyu wasted no time in driving back home (not before turning up the seat settings so it warmed up too), already thinking of what kind of soup he’ll be able to cook for you from the stuff he has in his fridge.

“do you like miso soup? i was planning on preparing it for my parents’ arrival so i have ingredients” mingyu asked, finally stopping at red so he whipped his head to look at you. 

a huge grin bloomed on his face, canines poking out. 

you were fast asleep, snoring softly. your breath fogged the window that you leaned your head against.

you stirred awake, a sudden aroma hitting your nose. you slowly opened your eyes and stretched. you were… comfortingly warm. looking around, you realized you’re… in a bed. in a bed that was not yours. furrowing your brows, you suddenly remembered. your period in the morning… the bad news… you locking yourself out… existential crisis… and finally, calling wonwoo… and mingyu. mingyu arriving, picking you up and then- 

oh.

you were in mingyu’s bed. 

it was comfy, warm and very snuggly. lots of pillows and fresh covers. you noticed you even had a hoodie on, it was definitely his. it was a plain navy shaded gap hoodie with a zip on, he probably took the first one and quickly put it on you for more layers so you warmed up. but why did that make you all warm inside? 

you slowly put your feet on the floor, meeting a fuzzy carpet. you looked around the room and smiled at how pretty it was. 

the sudden feeling of being an intruder in this place washed over you, causing you to head out.

you decided to follow the delicious smell that woke you up and you were led to the kitchen. it was quite big, well organized and– then it hit you. wonwoo and mingyu were roommates. that thought had originally intimidated you: countless times you were over and you just greeted each other. you were just a friend of a friend. 

and now… he was something more than a friend. at least, you want him to be. 

“hi” his voice called out and you shot him a small smile. 

“hi” you replied, watching his tall figure roam around the kitchen. he looked so comfortable, just like a fish in the water. 

“i made some soup, i was planning on cooking it up tomorrow either way” mingyu said and placed down two bowls. “you woke up just in time” 

you hummed and sat down, wrapping the big hoodie tighter around your body. mingyu noticed and only smiled a bit. then, he sat down next to you. 

the goldenish liquid sat there steaming, pieces of emerald colored scallion and wakame algae. tofu was swimming in there happily as well, along with some mushrooms. 

your stomach let out a loud growl, almost sounding like one of the dogs at the shelter. you exchanged amused looks with mingyu and were about to dive in when your hair got in your way. it must’ve fallen from behind your ear.

before you could reach and tuck it away, a larger and rougher hand did it instead. 

you looked up and locked eyes with mingyu, who leaned a bit closer to help you out. 

your heart skipped a beat and heat rose to your face. your head was working like a steaming machine: why, why, why did you feel this way? why did such a small gesture make you all fluttery inside?

because it was more than a silly crush. it struck you. you’re seriously in love. love was such a weird word, very basic in english. greek itself had at least 8 types of love, like eros, agape, pragma or ludus. and for sure one of them reflected how you felt about mingyu. head over heels, yearning, in love, even a bit intimidated; even wave to earth sung about love that endured through hardships, and how it could be seen in small things. because who would make you soup? who would want to spend their free time just to help you? to care about you in a way that’s intimidate but not sexual?

“eat up” he hummed and brought his hand back, reaching for his utensils. you realized time froze only for you and mere had seconds passed, so you nodded and decided to consume the meal.

a variety of tastes hit your tongue and you just let out a dramatic groan, sending mingyu a thumbs up. you almost wolfed down the soup but tried to savor the effort he put in. hunger was stronger, though.

“this is so delicious, oh my! you never told me you’re such a talented cook!” you grinned. you tried to be normal, trying not to act in a way that screams ‘i like you!’. now that you were aware, it suddenly became like a part of you that you had to carry. 

mingyu seemed flustered, shrugging shyly. 

“it’s just a soup” he mumbled and you swore you saw a hint of red on his face. you let out a deep sigh.

“either way, it was the best thing i’ve ever had in a while. wonwoo is one lucky guy” you chuckled and mingyu nudged your arm, giggling. 

“now, tell me. what’s up? something tells me it wasn’t just you locking yourself out” the man asked softly, going back to his soup. he still had some left. 

“it’s just… everything fell on me, you know. i also just started my period this morning so i’m extra emotional. the keys were the breaking point but… i received some news earlier today. one of our doggies had to be put down and… it just made me extra sad. teto was with us for almost seven years. i wish he could’ve passed in a loving home– fuck, i’m gonna cry again” you scoffed, looking up to avoid the tears from gathering. taking a deep sigh and allowing yourself to calm down, you felt the comfortable silence between you two. 

you swallowed and returned to look at him with a sad smile. 

“no tears left to cry, hopefully. i cried a whole river while waiting for you” you tried to crack a joke. mingyu mirrored your small smile but pure compassion was written all over his cute face. “and then the keys… and i just felt so helpless. and cold… and you know, there’s only a week left to get the money and we still need a lot to afford all the bills. just one word, in the end: overstimulated. so don’t worry, i’m fine”

mingyu listened to you, his ebony irises holding a small, sad glint. you could see the tiny crease between his dark eyebrows. he really cared.

suddenly he scooted closer and trapped you in a warm, tight hug. your face got smushed into his arm and you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his waist. 

you stayed silent, not knowing how to respond. this was nice. 

he rubbed your back softly but you sensed some nervousness in his movements. maybe he was scared he crossed the line.

“thank you” you whispered. 

once you did that, his fingers halted momentarily. then, he rubbed subtly bigger circles on your back with more confidence yet in a solacing manner.

you found yourself sitting on the couch, rubbing bobtori’s belly gently. wonwoo looked at you with a soft smile.

“thank you for agreeing, i couldn’t ask anyone else” mingyu said, putting on his elegant shoes. well, he looked very handsome.

“no biggie. consider it a favor after all the help you gave me” you hummed and wonwoo sent you a confused look. you just shook your head.

“another thing is that i just don’t trust my other friends. maybe cheol, he’s such a dog dad. but he was busy today” mingyu sighed and brushed his hair back again. “okay, i’m ready. we’ll pick up my parents, eat out before finally coming back. they are sleeping at our place so don’t get shocked when we’ll return with them… you know what i mean…” 

“you’re rambling. let’s go” wonwoo sighed and you saw a flash of a smile on his face. 

“yes,, i’ll call you if anything happens. have fun, boys!” you grinned and watched wonwoo push mingyu out of their place. he was looking over his shoulder and his mouth was open as if he wanted to say something but the sound of doors falling shut behind silenced him.

you hummed happily and stretched your legs on the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket. 

mingyu asked you to watch over his dogs for a night out with his parents. you felt proud he chose you… even if he had other friends. 

you came to an agreement with yourself that you shouldn’t do anything about your growing feelings towards mingyu. it had been five days since mingyu picked you up and took care of you… and your realization. it was mindblowing how such a simple gesture of someone tucking your hair away could make you aware.

logging onto the netflix account that you shared with wonwoo, you decided you’d watch an episode or two of your favorite series and walk the dogs out. they were really cute, just like mingyu. but seeing the three white, fluffy dogs had made you laugh. kpop idols have a soft spot for them, apparently. 

you took them on a walk while the evening sky made the city turn into a purple lake. deciding to keep the walk short and sweet, you grabbed a snack as well and just let yourself immerse in the peaceful atmosphere of the walk. unlike the one you shared with mingyu and your animals. he had been wrong though, his girls were very calm. 

wave to earth played in your ears, shutting off your brain completely. you just walked mindlessly through the nearby park in the neighborhood, observing the dark shades blending, creating a starry sky above you. once city lamps lit your way and you decided to head back, to warm up. it was slightly windy, the weather pinching your cheeks like an old aunt that hadn’t seen you in a while. and even though you had dressed up the dogs (mingyu insisted), you’d forgotten your hat. you were just wearing a checkered scarf.

you looked down at it and caressed it with your free hand. brows knitting, you realized it wasn’t yours. well, you probably took a random one from the stand. 

returning back, you warmed up the dogs a bit and dried them off with a towel since it was snowing a bit. you ate your snack and sighed, reaching for your phone. 

deciding to check if someone donated money, you saw that mingyu was calling you. 

“hello?” you answered, surprised. it’d been only two hours since they left.

“hi, i’m totally not checking how are you but… how are you?” he breathed out and you huffed a laugh. 

“i’m fine. and your babies too, we just got back from a walk” you smiled and observed the three white as snow dogs roam around the room. 

“good, okay. we’ve just had our meal and we’ll gonna grab some dessert. do you want anything?” mingyu asked and your mouth fell ajar. how was this man still single? 

“i, uh… that’s really sweet of you, mingyu. but i don’t need anything, go back to your parents” you giggled. here are that swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

“riiight. i’ll take something either way. i’ll text you once we’re on our way back. and i’ll drive you home” he announced and hung up before you could protest. 

“asshole” you grumbled with a smile and noticed aji jumping to join you on the couch. “do you want to watch something too? you won’t believe this, girl. there’s this cartoon show for dogs, mhm?”

you put on bluey and snuggled into the couch. you read somewhere that bluey was dog-friendly: the cartoon is made with such a color palette that dogs can enjoy it too (considering their different way of perceiving colors). you had tested it on some of the dogs at the shelter - whereas some watched, intrigued, like small kids, others didn’t care. maybe it depended on the personality.

you felt your eyelids getting heavy, especially with aji’s comforting weight on your tummy, and gradually, they closed. a quick nap wouldn’t hurt anyone.

mingyu stepped in and wonwoo went to show mingyu’s parents the guest room. in the meantime, he went to look for you since you hadn’t replied to his texts. he heard a quiet noise coming from the living room and walked in, noticing the tv was on. then he saw it.

you were asleep with his dogs snuggled with you. of course, bobtori woke up once she heard the doors opening but was too lazy to run up and greet him. 

his heart swelled in his chest, a smile blooming on his features. he watched you snore quietly. 

quiet footsteps brought him back to reality and he saw his mom.

“oh, she’s the friend you like?” she asked and giggled. “she’s cute!”

“mom” he groaned, feeling like an embarrassed teenager. sure, he’d mentioned you a couple (a lot) of times but–

 “what? and our babies like her! that’s just so cute. i wanted to meet her but let her rest, don’t wake her up with your clumsiness” she shot him a sweet smile and patted his shoulder before walking away. “good night, son”

“sleep well, mom” he hummed and watched her walk away. then, his gaze returned to you. he was debating whether to wake you up or not but aji suddenly stirred awake. she jumped down and barked, mingyu’s eyes widening. 

“shush, aji, everyone is asleep” he whispered and kneeled down. aji wagged her tail excitedly and leaned on his knee. “hi baby, i hope you were good”

“they were angels” 

mingyu looked up and saw you rubbing your eyes, bobpul licking your face. he gave you a toothy grin and scratched aji behind the ears. 

“i’m glad. sorry for waking you up” he said, remembering his mother’s words. 

“it’s okay” you hummed and turned off the tv, fighting a yawn. 

“do you want some hot chocolate?” mingyu asked suddenly. you nodded, your hand gently landing on top of bobpul’s head. you petted her gently with love in your eyes. 

mingyu sighed, the sight in front of him just heartwarming. he could get used to that. 

“how was it?” you asked, turning your attention to him (yet you didn’t stop petting the dog). you noticed he’d taken off his blazer and loosened up the buttons of his shirt.  

“really nice. oh, right, there’s some food i brought. and my parents are asleep in the guest room, wonwoo probably in his already, too. you know how he is after social gatherings” mingyu chuckled and started working on the hot beverage 

“out like a baby, i know” you laughed and the thought of mingyu’s parents presence suddenly made you nervous. “i’ll keep going once we drink it. i don’t want to take up any more space or the free time you set aside for your parents”  

“no, it’s fine! don’t worry about it now” he looked over his shoulder and adored you for a moment. then he returned to the hot choco recipe his dad taught him. he heard you shuffle around but focused on the milk in the saucepan, turning it up so it was on a medium heat. 

next, he whisked cocoa powder and a bit of sugar. while the beverage was still warm, he added chocolate chips that added more flavor. whisking again, the faint sound of metal clinking mixed with your footsteps. he felt your presence behind him before he felt your soft breath hitting his arm. you were peeking curiously and exchanged looks with him. 

he reached for vanilla extract and added a splash to add a little more sweetness. 

“can you get me two cups?” mingyu asked and you nodded. you grabbed your favorite mug (of course in a shape of a dog’s head, mingyu thought with a huge grin) and one that had some flowers on it. 

he poured the liquid from the saucepan directly into the cups, not even spoiling a single drop. 

“whipped cream?” he asked, looking at you for an answer. you nodded enthusiastically, sparkles of joy in your eyes. you felt like a little kid at christmas. 

mingyu added the whipped cream and finished it with chocolate sprinkles on top. 

“wait!” you gasped and opened their snack drawer. at first he was surprised you knew where it was but then he remembered you’d been here countless of times. 

you grabbed a blue colored packet and shook it with a chuckle. 

“i bought it once on my way here” you hummed and opened it. those were… animal shaped marshmallows. 

mingyu closed his eyes and scrunched his face. could you get any cuter?! 

once he opened them again, you were just finishing up placing the sweet decoration. 

“and done. let’s sit down” you offered and grabbed the mugs, placing them down on the table. you had a sense of deja vu – sitting at the table in the same place, something warm in front of you. mingyu next to you and a panoramic view of the city surrounded by night darkness. 

mingyu was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“what?” you asked softly, taking a sip of the hot choco. the sweetness exploded on your taste buds, making you hum in sheer delight. “ah, that’s delicious” 

he suddenly gulped, putting down his cup with a soft clank.

“i think i like you”

the silence was so loud you could hear wonwoo’s snoring from his room.

panic settled in mingyu’s body after realizing he blurted it out loud. he was just thinking about how caring you were towards his dogs and how pretty you were and… it just slipped out. his pupils were blown wide, chest rising up and down irregularly in panic. 

he felt your hand brush against his shoulder before you shook him.

“hello?!” you whisper-yelled, him finally snapping back to reality. “i was saying: ‘are you serious?’”

mingyu blinked slowly, unable to look away from your e/c eyes. he nodded slowly, almost hesitantly. your face broke into a smile, a visible wave of relief washing over you.

“mingyu, listen. i like you too. i realized it a while ago. don’t freak out, okay?” you giggled upon seeing his face twist in shock. his mouth opened and closed simultaneously like a fish out of the water, brows furrowed.

“you like me?” he repeated. a loud snort left your lips.

“dummy, you always were my type. i think i’ve had a crush on you ever since i bumped into you for the first time in the hallway. i was just too shy to strike up a conversation. but now that we got closer i just… the feelings got more serious” you explained slowly, calmly. it was comforting, the silence of the room combined with the warm lighting of the kitchen. “because what do you mean a busy kpop idol would spend his free time with me? picking me up while i’m locked outside in the other side of the city… or helping me and the animals i take care of, especially cats, of which you are terrified of”

“you noticed?” he breathed out shyly, a deep red shade decorating his cheeks. 

“i’ve dealt with people scared of cats before and you perfectly fit the description. that’s why we finished early that, i let you go out of pity” you giggled and took your arm away. “what i’m trying to say is that... you have a really pure heart and because of that, my own heart is going crazy”

“are you insane? it’s you who’s the kindest person i’ve ever met” mingyu was flabbergasted, shuffling closer. the hot choco was slowly getting cold, the sugary dog-shaped marshmallows dissolving in the liquid. he grabbed your hands and drew circles on atop of them “you are such a beautiful human being, i aspire to be as kind as you. there’s love in everything you do, you care about the pets like they are your own kids and i just–”

“just kiss already, brats” 

you both jolted up from the sudden voice. 

mingyu’s dad carried on walking and ignored you two, passing you by. he grabbed a glass and filled it with water, and then as if nothing happened, slowly padded back to the guest room. you kept staring at the dark corridor from which he had suddenly appeared, making sure he was gone. only when you heard a distant soft click of the door closing did you turn your head slowly to mingyu. 

once you locked eyes, you two burst out laughing. you leaned forward, resting your head on this shoulder. his chest was vibrating with laughter, the cute sounds of his chuckles making you laugh even more.

“he’s right, i should kiss you. but i wanna do it properly, if you don’t mind” he said after he calmed down a bit. you leaned away, tilting your head curiously.

“fine. let’s go on a date, then. no helping me, no shelter. just… a normal date” you decided, puffing your chest out. his eyes twinkled with excitement as he nodded eagerly. 

“deal. now let me drive you home” mingyu hummed and grabbed the cup.

maybe he was hallucinating but he thought one of the marshmallows melted and shaped into a heart.

mingyu was staring at you in awe, literal hearts in his eyes. he couldn’t take his eyes off you, still not quite believing that you were currently on a date with him. additionally, he finally got to see you in something else than work attire or jeans. you had put on a pretty black dress and some jewelry that shone in the candle light.

“admit it, you’re whipped” you chuckled and heard your phone buzz from your purse. 

“no, i’m casually admiring. totally normal” he hummed and nodded. “shall we get the bill?”

while mingyu settled the check, you quickly went to see the notification. your eyes widened. 

you heard him stand up and walk up to you. 

“is everything okay?” mingyu asked, slightly worried. you just nodded, standing up with a slight smile. 

“let’s go outside” 

once you were dressed up in your winter coat (and mingyu’s scarf that apparently was the one you accidentally put on before - and took it home, unaware), you strolled down to another place to get some dessert. 

it was the end of december, so the city was prettily decorated with ornaments. fairy lights shone with a yellowish glow, underlining the falling snow. people were walking around you, their chatter sounding in the background.

you took mingyu by his arm, snow crunching underneath your feet. the moon was also visible this night, curiously peeking from behind a cloud.

“you said you were just casually admiring, hm?” you asked tauntingly, causing him to frown. some snowflakes landed on his dark hair. 

“duh. i totally casually normally like you” he answered.

“riiiight. and the money transfer that was made last minute by an anonymous donor on the funding site was, perhaps, not someone i know?” you laughed, peeking at him curiously. 

mingyu bit his lower lip to prevent himself from smiling. oops.

“listen, i… sorry if that’s weird i just…” he stuttered “truth be told… i’m kinda crushing on you, heavily”

“i noticed” you snickered and he just rolled his eyes. 

“uh, yeah. it was me.” he added shyly. but he’ll keep one thing to himself, though. 

he already made the money transfer when you two and wonwoo went out to eat. he just set it to go through at a later time, so it was made during the last, final day of fundraising. he didn’t want it to seem suspicious but he had no clue it’d turn out like this. that you’d connect the dots so fast and, well, on a date with him.

“mingyu?” 

he blinked twice and stopped in his tracks once he noticed you stood in place.

“hm?” he hummed, frowning. 

you sent him a warm smile and before he could realize, you were standing on your tippy toes. 

your hands slid up to interlace behind his neck, your soft but a little cold lips brushing against his.

“thank you” you whispered, not quite kissing him yet. “for everything”

he closed the very minimal gap between you two and kissed you gently, sending shivers down your spine. you felt warmth and the slight taste of wine you had shared earlier. 

but most of all, you felt love.

svt mlist | event mlist

taglist. @rubywonu ,, @tricky-ritz ,, @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,,

@nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,,

@laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,,

@mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee ,, @wheeboo

[glossdebut]

study break | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t. As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

✧ TAGS: college au, smut, fluff

✧ WARNINGS: oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, slight overstimulation

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so this is NOT price of fame chapter two, nor is it the seokjin fic that i’ve been teasing for weeks. this is instead a secret third thing, inspired by my own post that has been living rent free in my brain for the past couple of days. i promise POF2 and the seokjin fic are both coming, but i had to get this out before i lost my damn mind. not beta read, so feel free to inform me of any mistakes i missed. P.S. i know the header isn’t debut yoongi, don’t fucking @ me about it!! i had this photo on hand ):

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.2k words

Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t.

As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

Things were so much easier when you—wrongfully—assumed he was an asshole. At least then, the arrangement was clear: you met him in the library, tried not to get annoyed at what a know-it-all he seemed to be for an hour, and then went back to your dorm with a slightly easier method of memorizing the circle of fifths under your belt. It went on like that for weeks. Quick and effective, mostly painless.

But then, when awkward small talk developed into genuine interest, you got to know him.

You learned that the reason he never takes notes in class is because he doesn’t have to. He taught himself all of the basics of music theory years ago, could’ve tested out and moved on to a more advanced class, but he wanted an easy A in his course load. You learned that he’s a classical piano major. He likes it just fine, but it’s really a means to an end. You learned that he writes his own raps, performs them at underground shows with a group of friends some weekends, that that’s what he really wants to do. You learned that he’s not an asshole and he’s just shy, that he’s been working up the courage to ask you out all semester.

You learned even more about him on your first date.

Such as: he’s the self-proclaimed master of grilling meat, and he’ll load up your plate for you before he even thinks of feeding himself. He may act like he’s not interested in going to the noraebang, but with just the slightest bit of insistence from you he’ll fold like a piece of paper. He thinks it’s cute when you snatch his snapback right off of his head and put it on your own. Even cuter when you fumble through a verse of Epik High’s ‘Love Love Love,’ squealing happily when he joins in. 

And: he kisses like he’s got something to prove. Knows all the right ways to use his tongue. Makes a low noise in the back of his throat when you do something he likes. Isn’t the slightest bit shy about pulling you into his lap, nor about slipping his hand into your panties right there, Epik High forgotten in favor of making you cum around his skilled fingers. 

So. Yeah.

Yoongi is no longer an effective tutor, because instead he is a fucking distraction.

You’re supposed to be studying. You had been studying, both of you putting up a valiant effort for a full hour and a half. But just as you’d gotten a firm grasp on the seven musical modes—Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, Locrian—-Yoongi was whining, insisting on taking a break. You tried to put up a fight, but you’re especially weak when Yoongi gets all sulky, soft pink lips pulled into a pout.

Notecards tossed aside, your fifteen minute study break quickly devolves into half an hour of making out on Yoongi’s bed. As soft music filters into his dorm room from his laptop, you lose track of time with his tongue sliding against yours, the occasional sting of his teeth on your bottom lip because he knows you like it. When you feel his erection pressed against your hip it quickly becomes very clear that you’re both done studying for the time being.

The way Yoongi kisses you never fails to make you crazy. His lips on yours are gentle but commanding at the same time, his hands in your hair holding your head exactly where he wants it as he licks into your mouth like he owns it. When he pulls away, you barely have a chance to catch your breath before he’s trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Your hips rock up against his, desperate for friction. 

“Baby,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin. His hands slide down from your hair to gently tug at the waistband of your jeans, an index finger circling teasingly around the button. “Wanna eat you out. You want that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, gasping when he nips at the underside of your jaw. Your voice is high, needy, foreign to your own ears. He’s good at that—at pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t know you could make.

He wastes no time in peeling your jeans down your legs, tossing them off the bed and out of his way. Yoongi likes to have as much space as possible when he eats you out, you’ve learned. He likes to take his time, spread you out as much as he can on his shitty dorm-provided twin size mattress. Just because he can make you cum in record time—and he can—doesn’t mean he likes to. Not when he’d much rather drag it out, savor you in every imaginable way until you can’t take it anymore. 

You know you’re in for it when he doesn’t take your panties off right away. Instead, when he settles between your thighs, all he does is look for a moment, his gaze laser-focused on the growing wetness seeping through the cotton. 

It lasts long enough that you start to squirm, his eyes flicking up to meet yours at the sudden movement.

“A-are you…?” you start, but you trail off, suddenly feeling way too fucking shy for something you’ve done with him more times than you can count at this point. 

“Yeah,” he hums, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “Yeah, I’m getting to it, sweetness. I just wanted to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”

You shiver, swallowing thickly as you nod.

“You sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, so close to where you want him. “You don’t have anywhere better to be?”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” you complain, sitting up for a moment to flick him on the forehead.

“Yah, so disrespectful,” he admonishes with a bite right where he’d just kissed. “I’m just playing. I know you don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I don’t,” you agree, suspicious. He’s up to something.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi hums knowingly, holding your gaze as he presses a kiss right to your clit. It makes your breath hitch, even with your panties subduing the feeling. “Because you love the way I eat this pussy, don’t you, baby?”

The answer is yes, of course. Yoongi always makes you feel so good no matter what he’s doing, but eating you out is definitely where he excels. But something about how cocky he’s being makes something stir inside of you—-makes you feel a little bold, a little mean. 

“When you actually get around to it, yeah.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hip. When he lifts his head his eyes are all pupil. “It’s like that, huh?” he asks, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Maybe,” you say, goading.

He clicks his tongue, dipping down to lick a broad stripe over your pussy without any warning. When he reaches your clothed clit, he wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, tearing a surprised moan from you.

“F-fuck!” Your fingers tangle in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, but the overwhelming pleasure is gone as quickly as it came.

“Such a brat,” Yoongi mumbles, sinking his teeth into the softness of your inner thigh again, harder this time. “Just wanted to take my time, treat you nice. But if you want it like this, fine.”

Mercifully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He roughly drags them down your legs until they’re thrown onto the floor, out of sight just like your jeans.

You gasp when his fingers instantly slide over your slippery cunt, making you gasp. “You get this wet just from pissing me off?” he scoffs, and you shake your head. 

“N-no,” you whimper.

“No?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head at you with a smirk. You feel like you’re going to die when his fingers find your clit, rubbing in punishing little circles. “Tell me what gets you this wet, then, baby.”

“You!” you moan. It feels embarrassingly fast, but you’re close. You’re gonna cum before he even gets his mouth on you properly. Maybe that’s his goal. “You, fuck, Yoongi.”

“That’s right,” he purrs. “You gonna cum already, pretty girl? Before I even get to taste you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Motherfucker. 

You wouldn’t be able to protest even if you wanted to, your brain already succumbing to the pleasant buzz of your impending orgasm. All you can do is squirm and rock up against Yoongi’s fingertips, completely at his mercy.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi continues, unbothered as you shake and moan in front of him. “I know you can give me another one. Go ahead, sweetness. Cum for me.”

Your release tears through you, sudden and intense and all-consuming. You’re sure there are words coming out of your mouth, but between the heat spreading through your body and the static buzzing in your ears, you honestly have no idea what they could be. Yoongi’s fingers keep rubbing at your abused clit until you’re trembling, gasping for breath between moans.

“Filthy girl,” he hums. Whatever you said must’ve been good, because he sounds almost proud of you as he runs his hands over your thighs. “You gonna let me take my time now?”

“Yes,” you gasp, still reeling from your orgasm. Yoongi taking his time is exactly what you need right now, or else you’ll go into complete overdrive. Absently, you think that was his plan all along, but that thought melts away as soon as Yoongi dips down and delves his tongue into your cunt, slow and thorough. 

Your brain? Empty. Brain so fucking empty.

“Shit,” he groans against you, his voice so low and gravelly you can feel the vibration of his words against your pussy. “You always taste so fucking good after you cum for me.”

You thread your fingers through his hair again, moaning long and low as he spreads you apart with his thumbs and dives back in. His nose nudges just slightly against your clit as he licks into you, the barely-there contact making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Yoongiiii,” you moan, earning an appreciative moan from him as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

Your first orgasm took you by surprise, but you can tell already that this one is going to be a slow burn, tendrils of heat that never really got a chance to fade spreading through your body, adagio.

As promised, Yoongi takes his sweet time. He sets an agonizing rhythm: licking into you, dragging his tongue up your pussy, gently sucking your clit into his mouth, over and over again until you’re practically a puddle on his mattress.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” you mewl, your thighs shaking around his head. You’d blush at the sounds he’s producing between your legs, slurping and sucking at you, if you weren’t so fucked out. Instead, all it does is turn you on even more, make you even wetter for him. 

Yoongi pulls back, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. “You ready to cum again?”

Wordlessly, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. Two fingers tease at your entrance, getting nice and wet before Yoongi slides them in, and just like that, you’re ready to burst.

“Nnngh—fuck, ‘m so fucking close,” you slur, grasping at his hair as he pumps his fingers into you.

“Give it to me,” he says, before sucking your clit into his mouth again and making stars burst behind your eyelids.

His fingers curl just right, and then you’re moaning brokenly, bucking up against his fingers and mouth as you cum again.

It feels like it lasts forever. Yoongi moans around your clit as you clench around his fingers, squeezing tight tight tight as heat crashes over you in waves. You feel his fingers withdraw, and then his tongue is fucking into you again, licking every last drop he’s earned from you.

He only breaks away when you’re pushing at his head, overstimulated and spent.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he rumbles, climbing up the bed so he’s on top of you, bracing himself on his elbows. He’s one to talk. He always looks so good like this—swollen lips and dark eyes, the bottom half of his face slick from eating you out so fucking well. “You can just cum and cum for me, can’t you?”

“You are insane,” you breathe, grasping at the strings of his sweatshirt to pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. 

Yoongi chuckles, pulling away just to press his forehead against yours. “You like it,” he says.

“I like you,” you correct, closing your eyes. “Even though I’m going to fail my final because of you.”

That earns a real laugh from Yoongi, his nose scrunching. “You’re not gonna fail.”

“I am,” you say, nodding sagely. “But it’ll be worth it.”

“That so?” He presses another kiss to your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Besides, I’ll just find a better tutor next semester when I have to retake.”

That earns you a sharp jab of Yoongi’s fingers to your side, but he’s got one of those gummy smiles on his face as you squeal under him, so no harm done.

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[anemoiashifts]

what to do if you’ve been trying to shift since 2020.

if you haven’t shifted yet & you’ve been here since 2020 or for a long period of time, waking up in your bed the following morning after a method & your doubting that shifting isn’t real then that’s simply not true. you are not doubting in shifting, you are doubting in yourself. if you doubted in the belief of shifting or subliminals or working towards a goal, you would have walked away from it a long time ago. you wouldn’t still be here if it was really all for nothing. you still have hope. there is something keeping you here.

you are looking for exterior validation that you shifted & that’s normal. it’s human to look around for confirmation for our manifestations. it’s hard to believe in something we cannot see. what you have to do is recognize that you are the creator of everything you have ever achieved, done & acquired in your life. because you are waiting until you are in your desired reality to recognize your progress, you are giving your “failures” attention.

when we give our failures attention & dwell on what we lack & what we want, we start to see it more. i mentioned this a while back in one of my very first posts but i really wanted a volkswagon beetle & i started seeing them everywhere. this is because your subconscious is showing you what you desire. the cars (your desired reality & manifestations) were always there, the issue is you don’t believe they are yours yet. shifting is a success other people have achieved. not you.

so what’s the issue ? how do we fix this ?

let go of wanting to shift. why ? because you have it. people who have things already don’t sit around & say “i want a million dollars in my bank account” because they already have a million dollars in their bank account.

instead of focusing on what you don’t have, see what you do have. you were born into a life where shifting was brought to your attention. a lot of people don’t even know what shifting is & half of the people that do know what it scoff at it & don’t ever try. be grateful that you are not letting yourself become one of those people. the fact you are trying & attempting this is a testament to you bettering your life & by extension bettering yourself. if you look at your shifting journey, what is working for you ? what methods do you like ? recognize that the universe may be trying to help you out by delaying you being in your desired reality.

people seem to not like to acknowledge the concept of divine timing & how important it can be. there is a time & place for everything we do. between when you first discovered shifting to now, you would have missed out on so many lessons & experiences that are needed for growth. majority of us look at our first script & cringe. if your someone who scripts, reflect on how many’s scripts you had. did you look at how much your desires & maturity changed through those ? the universe — god, your spirit guides, whatever higher power you believe in — may be protecting you. there could be something in your script that you could not handle, there could be a toxic relationship that you may have suffered from if you had shifted successfully & it would’ve done more harm then good.

shifting will always be there; no matter your age, what you go through. you have all of eternity to figure it out. there is no time limit. nothing is worth rushing into. if you want something don’t well, take the time to do it correctly. while there is no “correct way” to shift take a look at yourself. are you nurturing yourself ? are you depressed ? are you in a stable headspace ? the only thing you have is this moment. the moment you are reading this on tumblr or tiktok, this is the only point you have control over. are you going to scroll away ? have you already gave up on reading this long of a post ? are you thinking about the past & your past shifting attempts or mistakes ? why are you thinking about them if they have nothing to do with your future ? if you know you will shift or manifest a job or money or whatever it may be — why are you giving something attention that goes against that ?

what’s the conclusion ?

look at what you have & how you’re still here. start small, recognize that this post came to you for a reason. recognize that this is something you manifested based on content you’ve put energy towards. this post is proof that you are capable of manifesting shifting, even if it isn’t your desired reality directly.

also, this reality is a desired reality. maybe not in the same way as another desired reality you may have but you have manifested plenty in this reality & that’s what shifting is. if you think you haven’t, guess again, because I’m sure there’s one thing you can find that you truly believed in & it became physical right before your eyes.

[neowinestainedress]

wave | lee donghyuck

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, mentioned weed consumption, alcohol use, fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, jealous sex, bickering, 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: 22.4k (out of 42k)

a/n: finally i’m back! i started this fic more than a year ago so seeing it finally come to life means everything to me. i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you’ll love it too. please, let me know with comments, reblogs (that also help reach more people), or anon. i love knowing what you think. enjoy! also if there are formatting mistakes please let me know cause i’ve been having problems posting this and i copied it without editing it once again.

masterpost (with visuals and playlist) (i can’t post the link or else the post doesn’t show up in the tags, but you can find it on my profile)

Being number one in your academy isn’t a want, but a need.

You didn’t spend your entire life crafting your skills and splitting yourself between the books and the training room for all of that to be swept under the rug when you finally made it to your dream university; Neo Arts Academy.

Surely, with the prizes promised to those on top, you aren’t the only one with that racing passion to drive you through each day. Tons of people try their best, and even put their health at risk to reach the biggest success, but you manage to focus on yourself and keep your life in a pretty healthy balance.

You managed to focus on you… until something, well, somebody, started to come into your way.

Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, his stage name —if he ever made it big in the industry he wanted to be already known.

You never paid him much attention. Honestly, you never paid attention to anybody, your only goal was to take care of your small garden and top everybody else, but when his competitiveness got the best of him, you just couldn’t push him in the back of your mind.

Apparently, his goals are the same as yours, and that isn’t a nice thing considering how competitive your world is. You first truly glanced at him during a songwriting lesson, when he huffed a bit too loudly behind you while he announced to his friend, probably named Mark, that he sucked at writing songs. However, you only chuckled mindlessly that time and went on with your day.

That was your first year there and everything went fine. Then the second year arrived and you applied for your minor degree in dance and that was when Donghyuck’s presence started to be louder. You had nothing against him, but you quickly learned he couldn’t stand you for some reason. Rumours were quick at flying around, being passed from mouth to ear and you knew them.

You simply couldn’t care.

Yet.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. He could never do that. After all, he doesn’t even know you. But he does know something about you. He knows your name, and how it is always on top of his in any ranking. He knows you will always win the contests he wants to win so badly. He knows you are good at theory and practice. He knows he just can’t win with you.

He also knows nothing can touch you. Not because you are unreachable and believe you’re superior to others. Actually, you are very modest about all your academic success, but you always walk straight on your road with the goal perfectly in the line of view.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. Though, lately, he has a strange feeling in his body every time he sits at his desk to study and his only motivation is to surpass you. Nothing different than the first months there, he got pretty soon you were going to be a tough but nice competitor, but fuck he never imagined you would be so hard to beat. Now that after a year he never won or got the top grade and always came second after you, you aren’t motivating him, you are driving him insane.

He doesn’t have many distractions, but he has friends, some hobbies outside of university, and even a part-time job. But you? Is there something that is distracting you? Is there anything that could distract you? He has no idea, not now that he is watching you walk into the room, ready for the classical ballet history class —yes, of course out of all the minors, you had to choose his— and sit a few rows in front of him, all alone as always, taking out your lilac book note and your pen.

Haechan has no idea, but he is going to find out something that can easily distract you and push out of your path.

You know people think of university as a moment to socialise, but being on your own has never been a problem for you. You have contacts with some of your hometown friends, and most importantly, you don’t mind doing things alone; you can go to the cinema when you want, you can pick whatever restaurant you like, you can take a walk, or stay at home.

You’ve always been comfortable in your bubble, and you’d like to keep it that way, but life has strange plans.

“Damn, always on a rush.” You recognize Haechan’s voice, but you don’t bother turning around because you’re sure he’s not addressing you. You think it’s weird he’s sitting next to you, but you blink the surprise away and grab your tablet from your bag. “Whoever put music theory at 8:30 in the morning on a Monday needs to go to jail.”

You chuckle at his comment, subtly rolling your eyes before opening the note app to go where you left it in the previous lesson.

“You write a lot.” This time you’re quite sure he’s talking to you, so your neck turns to look at him and you find him closer than you’d like him to be.

“I annotate, it’s just the essentials.”

He scans the notes quickly before scoffing. “The essentials? I don’t write as half as that.”

“Well, I think this is essential, but we all work differently,” while you’re answering him, you don’t even notice that his friend is not beside him, and you get lost in him for a second, mostly in the scent that’s filling your nostrils now that his brown jacket is so close to you.

“The professor talks too fast, how the fu— how do you get everything?” He stops himself from cursing and backs away, finally making you breathe some air that is not filled with his intoxicating perfume.

“I rewrite phrases. And, to be sure, I record the lessons, so I can re-listen to them in case something doesn’t make sense when I study them. And then I also re-write the not—”

“You record the lessons?” He almost snarls with his eyes bulging out of his skull as he, once again, stands too close to you.

“Is it illegal?” Your head tilts to the side as genuine curiosity blooms on your face.

“No, it’s… it’s…” he sighs, throwing his head back and cursing something under his breath in a tight dialect you don’t recognize. “I never thought about it.”

“Oh, well, it helps me a lot. Sometimes when I’m too tired to read I just play the lessons and memorize stuff while I do other things,” you smile, moving your hair to one side of your neck before grabbing the pen when the professor walks in. “You should try.”

“Oh, you can be sure I will.”

Haechan can’t be so stupid. He can’t believe he can be so stupid. Why didn’t he ever, ever, think about that? That’s a smart idea, better than crying and cursing when he tries to understand what he wrote down on paper when he revisits the notes, or asking Mark if he wrote some phrases he had marked down with several question marks or dots to fill —dots that he never fills.

But he’s still sure he can’t be a terrible student, he had always been on top of his classes, always aced them and his study method worked… but what if yours worked better? Given the results of the past year, and the start of this one, the answer is clear: yours do work better.

But he doesn’t think that it’s the only reason you are beating him in everything. What if you have other tricks?

Haechan is going to find out.

You always believed your only competition was yourself. You never liked to engage with other people and fight them or fear them. But Haechan had given you no choice.

It was an open threat at you when he purposefully told you a different day to turn in an assignment when you were sick, you had no choice but to fight back.

That was when Haechan truly became your rival. He had always been, you two were always at the top, fighting for the first place and the big prizes, but now it was a matter of pride.

Haechan had officially made it on top of your blacklist, at least he could arrive number one in something, not like there was a big competition to be in there, in fact, you didn’t even have one before he pushed your last nerve.

Fucking it up with you wasn’t Haechan’s plan, he wanted to befriend you and trick you into giving him some magic tricks, but things went… wrong. With Mark by his side, it was impossible to sit next to you. During songwriting you got up and sat on another seat in the middle of the lesson with the excuse of ‘not seeing from afar’, and he couldn’t approach you in any other circumstances. So, when you got sick for three days, he thought he could, for once, steal your spotlight.

He wasn’t sure you were sick, but he was sure enough you weren’t going to miss lessons days to study or work on projects; you never needed extra time, unfortunately, he knew it well. So the only thing that could lock you in your place was an illness of some kind. He did feel bad when you came back four days later and asked him if you missed something, he could see you still weren’t at your best, and he could’ve tried his luck by telling you the truth, hoping that the precarious state you were in was going to make you come up with a terrible essay on an instrument of the 18th century, but his eagerness got the best of him, and he lied.

So he had officially screwed his plan of getting closer to you.

“You are an asshole,” you scream, slamming the books in front of him on the table in the garden, not caring about his friends staring at you in shock. “And don’t look at me with that face of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ because you know what I’m referring to.”

“I don’t, though…” he whispers, trying to keep a distance between you because you look scary —half bent on the table, furrowed forehead, pointing finger— and he thinks you are very motivated to reach over his neckline and strangle him.

You roll your eyes, groaning in annoyance. “You told me Professor Kim left an essay for Monday, I thought I could use the weekend to do an amazing job and he called me to his office because I was three days late.”

Haechan gulps, and the table goes silent, you feel his friends’ gazes on you but they are the last thing in your mind.

“Mind to explain?”

“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”

“You have to ask me if you are an asshole because your mother didn’t put a brain in your skull?”

“Hey, take it back!” He warns with a pointing finger, glaring at you.  

“No,” you retort, crossing your arms on your chest and standing up straight. “You sabotaged me.”

“You are making things up. Maybe you should be in the creative writing major,” Haechan taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.  

You gasp offended, clenching your fists to avoid wrapping your hands around his neck. “You — you — ugh,” you huff. “This paper was graded! And you knew it, it’s part of the mid-course work he adds to our final grade. Why would you do that to me?”

“You think I did that on purpose?”

“When did you turn it in?” You ask and when his eyes widen you scream at his face. “See! You turned it on time. I fucking hate you!”

“I didn’t answer,” he tries to defend, a challenging edge in his voice, getting to your nerves more than the look on his face.

“First of all, I can see it in your face. You’re trying to look surprised and even scared, but you’re having the time of your life because, guess what, you can’t surpass me if you don’t play your stupid games.”

He snorts offended, gulping before leaning closer. “You think I can’t beat you?”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what the rankings say, it’s what our professors say, and it’s what all the external opportunities I’ve got say. But if you want to try to prove facts wrong, bring it on,” you shrug, grabbing your things and taking a step back. “No more dirty games from now on, Lee Donghyuck. Trust me, you don’t want me to start playing them too, you might not even see the top three if I do.”

The months to come are fire. You should keep minding your business but as soon as he opens his mouth in class you can’t press your lips together and fake it. You try, every time, but you fail.

“I just mean that the melody is what attracts people,” he argues during a discussion in the songwriting class.

You huff, shaking your head. “People care about the lyrics more.”

He scoffs loudly and the professor glares at him for the reaction but he still goes on. “People won’t listen to a song if the production sucks.”

You turn around, eyebrows pressed in a furrow. “And they won’t listen to a song if the lyrics are dumb, or tell a bad message.”

“Really? Catchy pop music is a thing even if you want so badly to maintain the purity of the art of music with only lyrical depth.”

“I love catchy pop songs, but there’s something objective in music and something subjective, if you paid attention to any of our classes you should know, right?”

The class holds back a laugh and the professor coughs, making you utter an apologize, more addressed to her than your enemy.

“Oh, trust me, I paid attention to class,” he retorts, mockingly smiling at you. “And we’re not talking about the quality but the appeal. People remember the rhythm of the song or the tune more than they remember the words.”

“And words can hold so much meaning for someone they will stick to them forever. Also, lyrics can have different interpretations and if you’re a good writer you can make one song fit for more occasions.”

“That’s dumb,” he says, looking at you up and down after scoffing. “Notes can transfer different emotions, what you said just doesn’t make sense, please.”

“Can we tone it down?” Professor Park warns, glaring at the both of you.

You nod and mutter another apology before speaking up again, “I believe that a good melody can easily attract people at first listen, but if we talk about the long run, a memorable song also needs good lyrics. And Mariah Carey herself said how being a songwriter makes your career last more, so I think it’s telling coming from one of the best voices ever.”

“I think you both make a great point,” the professor cuts the conversation off before you can jump at each other’s throat again. “It would be interesting to make a deeper analysis and maybe break down songs and compare data over time. If it was possible to keep the decorum…” she whispers the last word and you want to disappear because you hate the scene you gave. “But we need to move on with our lesson, so, as I was saying…”

Out of all the heated discussions you had in class, the one about the importance of production and lyrics, led to your worst nightmare, working on a project with him. Professor Park was so nice to pair you together because she wanted to see how your different points of view would’ve worked in the song you had to write and produce and even if you smiled and said, ‘it will be really motivating,’ to avoid yelling at her face, now you want to die.

You’re sure the first two knocks on the door don’t even reach the other side; your hits are too weak and the small apartment in that complex is too loud for anyone to hear. Is this the environment you have to work in today?

You roll your eyes and knock again, this time making sure it’s impossible for them not to hear you. You wait there only for a few seconds and then the door opens, revealing a boy your age you can’t remember.

“Oh, hi,” he cheers, big toothy smile beaming at you. “You must be here for Hyuck, right?”

You hum, nodding and murmuring, “Yes, I have to work on a project with Haechan.”

“Come in.”

You step inside the house and look around briefly before your eyes fall on the table in the small living room; there are books everywhere, headphones on the ground, boxes of food and empty water bottles, and most importantly talks too loud for four boys that were supposedly studying.

“Mark, can you lower the music?”

“Music is what I’m studying, I can’t,” the man you know well replies. “Why don’t you keep your pencil close to you? Jesus, there’s graphite everywhere.”

“You’re so annoying, I can’t go in my room, Jeno still didn’t take down the light boxes,” the brown-haired replies, sending a death glare to the boy at his side who quickly replies to his defence.  

“Hey, I finished shooting half an hour ago and now I have an essay to write, leave me alone.”

“They’re entertaining, aren’t they?” Haechan’s voice brings you out of the haze of his bickering friends, their conversation fades in the background while your anger level rises just seeing his face when you turn around.

“Surely more entertaining than you,” you retort before taking a step forward, pretending to know where to go in that house.

Haechan rolls his eyes, thanking his friend who opened the door —Jaemin— and coming next to you. “You don’t know where my room is yet, so if you’d like to follow me.”

You trail behind him, waving at the men around the table but it’s clear that none of them even noticed your presence. Luckily for you, Donghyuck’s room is at the end of the corridor and the mess that goes down in the other room is not hearable enough to make your day a living hell.

“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks after you sit at one of the chairs at his desk.

You shake your head, fixing your skirt and pulling out some things you might need from your bag. “Wanted to hear from you first. Since the melody is so crucial, we should start from that,” you mock in a fake-sweet tone, and you feel his glare on your skin.

“You truly are a pain in the ass, you know?” He scoffs, moving his hair out of his face, gaze fixed on you.

“And for what? Because I agreed with your theory?”

“If you have a melody in mind it’s easier to make the words flow.”

“If the melody has nothing to do with the idea, you only have some notes and not a song.”

Now that there aren’t rows of chairs dividing you, the heated argument has led you face to face, literally. And you feel your heart pound in your chest from the anger and, also because it’s weird to be this close to a stranger you can’t stand.

“Okay, Miss Taylor Swift, why don’t you enlighten me and show me what you got?”

You glare at him but he’s unfazed, holding the eye contact proudly. “My lyrics will be better than your production.”

“And are those lyrics in the room with us?”

“God,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air and your head back. “You drive me insane.”

“And you are pretentious and still never prove all the things that that little, bratty, annoying mouth of yours says.”

Deep creases show on your forehead, and you have to turn around because if you see his face for a second more you will slap him. But you want this project done, you have four weeks to turn it in, but you want this torture to be over as soon as possible, so you know you have to put the pettiness aside.

“If we want a great result and good grades, we need good lyrics and a good melody,” you say, calmly facing him again, slowly watching as his face softens. “My words and your production. I don’t care what comes to us first, if you think it can be useful, we could even brainstorm some tunes and catchphrases and then build it around it.”

“Now you’re making some sense,” he exclaims, smiling widely before patting the top of your head. “So that head is not empty.”

“Oh, seriously? I’m trying to have a truce, and you fuck it all up again?”

“No, sorry, I just think you’re really smart when it comes to college but a bit annoying when it comes to life.”

“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”

“I can,” he retorts smugly.  

“Then why don’t you do it?” You tease, cocking your head to the side.

Haechan scoffs, lips twitching in a quick smirk before he wets them. “I didn’t yet, but are you so sure I won’t?” He whispers, breath colliding with your lips and nose brushing yours, your brain doesn’t even register his hands on your legs right away, only when his fingers caress your bare skin right above the hem you wake up from the haze of having him so close.

“Time will — time will prove us,” you say, turning to the desk and scratching your neck. “Time will tell us, not prove us.”

Haechan snickers, moving closer to see on your tablet where you opened the notes, and smiles smugly. He thinks he found a way to distract you.

The project isn’t done in the first week, and to put a cherry on top, Professor Park decides to make it the big project for the end of the class, adding a cover for the single, a plan to sponsor it, and, if someone feels brave enough, even to record it. Even if you wanted to, a thing this big, and now with so much weight on the final grade, can’t be done in one week.

Yet, you think you’ll have to deal with Haechan only on your weekly meet-ups for that project and during lessons, you never imagined you would have to deal with him even during your library study on Wednesday.

“Why are you studying in the middle of the week?”

“You know, if I had to replicate a sound every time we start a conversation it would be ‘and now, I just want to sit back and relax and enjoy my evening, when all of a sudden I hear this agitating grating voice,’ and that is the sound that plays in my mind, actually.”

“Grating? Really?”

“Well, it’s the quote but it fits,” you reply sternly, bringing your attention back to the book. “Also, the question is not, why am I studying, but why aren’t you? How will you beat me if you don’t?” You wink, laughing under your breath. You don’t even need to see his reaction; you know his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare for a brief second every time you tease him.

You hear the chair in front of you scratch on the floor, and deeply hope he’s not sitting on it. But Haechan is sitting on it, staring at you as if he could steal the information from your brain and pass it to his.

“I am studying.”

“No, you’re not,” you reply, eyes widening when he rips a page from your notebook and a pen from your case. “So, what have you learned since now?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes to the sky and instead run a hand on your face while sighing deeply. There’s just no way to get rid of him, right?

“You don’t even know what I’m studying.”

“Sound design,” he replies promptly, and you look down to see if he could’ve gotten a grasp from your books but there’s a paper on it and there’s not much written on it. Haechan smiles and moves to the chair next to you. “It’s because I started it too, there are too many notions, it would be a suicide to wait for the finals.”

“Oh, so you do something else other than think about me,” you tease, nudging him with your leg.

“Hey! I don’t think about you,” he replies firmly, frowning.

“Sure,” you huff, waving him off. “So, what do you know?”

“Well, all the basis we learnt last year, so the definition of sound, the path it follows, how it’s perceived based on the medium and how fast it travels through them, slowest through gases, faster through liquids, and fastest through solids, and that temperature effects it as well.”

You smile, content with the reply but you want to test him more. “What about the five characteristics of sound?”

“You think that’s a difficult one?” He asks, almost disappointed at the easiness of your question.

“Well, if you want to impress me so bad, I could ask you to list all the types of compressors?”

“You already know that?” He questions, quirking a brow, trying to think why he doesn’t remember them. “Wait, we didn’t do that in class.”

You laugh. “See, you’re witty. No, we haven’t done that yet, but since you love producing so much, I thought you knew it as personal knowledge.”

“Why do you talk as if you don’t want to do the same job as mine?” There’s a bit of annoyance in his tone, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes.

You shrug, pressing your lips together before diverting your gaze.

Haechan gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you want to do, yet, because I won’t believe it.”

“It’s not that I don’t know,” you reply, a low huff leaving your lips. “I’d like to try different things out, being a PR manager sounds interesting too. And I’m also pretty good at dancing, so that could be a career path.”

“It’s a shame we didn’t start practical courses, I would love to see you dance.”

“Yeah, sure, so you can mock me some more,” you groan.

He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t enroll in a program if you weren’t absolutely perfect at it, so I can’t come at your skills.”

“You’re so kind, I think I might love you,” you mock, moving closer to him and pouting before pushing him away with a light push on his chest and focusing on your papers again.

“And by the way, I know the characteristics of sound,” he says, right next to your face.  

You smile and think to yourself that this might be fun. “Good, go on and tell me.”

You don’t get why Haechan’s roommate bicker so much. Not that you could lecture them when, as soon as you walk inside his room, your talks won’t be much different than theirs (worse, probably). But you think you and Haechan, at least, have a reason to fight so much. His roommates are… weird. They are close. They all are, in an annoying way almost, always moving in packs and breaking their back to meet up even if their institutes are scattered around in the Academy. Yet, they get heated pretty easily when they sit in the living room, and you can only blame it on stress as you chuckle, standing against the countertop with a glass of water in hand.

“Donghyuck left you all alone?” Jeno enters the kitchen, distracting you from Renjun screaming at his painting and Mark cursing while he tries to come up with a melody for a small assignment you decided to not worry about —you have Haechan to worry about now.

“Yep, told me to be here at 2 pm just to be in the shower instead,” you reply with a tight smile on your face that makes him laugh and scroll the black hair out of his face.

“My fault,” he explains while pouring himself a glass. “I convinced him to stay at the basketball field when we finished and he couldn’t meet up with you smelling like rotten leftovers forgotten under the august sun.”

“Creative writing?” You ask after you chuckle at his description.

“Nope, photography, Renjun’s worst nightmare.”

You laugh. “It’s because you leave all those big things around his room, right?”

“Our room,” he says, empathising on the first word.

“Okay, communism king, your room but I don’t think your comrade is happy about it.”

Jeno laughs, and hums before gulping down a sip of water. “I’m not rich yet to afford a studio so he’ll have to deal with his bestie working, sweating, and crying his way to the top.”

“You could’ve been a nepo baby and have everything handed to you.”

“Sucks not to be one. I wouldn’t even bother being in Uni, just leaving my best life with my camera and daddy’s money.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Haechan says entering the kitchen, hair still damp and casual housewear on.

“None of your business,” you reply, placing the glass in the sink and walking to the door. “Come on, we have a song to create. It could be our first Billboard number one.”

Haechan sighs, snatching the bottle of water from Jeno’s hand, briefly confused at his grinning face, and then follows you quickly.

“Are you trying to hit on my friends?” He asks, closing the door behind.

“Would you mind?”

“Yes, I’d hate having to deal with you in our group hangouts.”

“You already deal with me. More than you should since you always come to me even when we could not be together,” you say, tilting your head to the side, and sitting on your assigned chair. “Are you perhaps jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”

“Nah, you can go and fuck all of them right no—”

“Okay,” you don’t even let him finish and you’re at the door, but he springs after you and stops you.

“What are you doing? I was kidding!”

“Why? Since when you can tell me what to do?”

Haechan groans and drags you back to your place, but he doesn’t sit just yet, he’s bent over to be close to you. “I need you here with me to work on this goddam song, and then you can go and have a gangbang in the living room, I don’t care.”

“You’d be mad you won’t be part of it,” you joke, having the time of your life watching his pissed-off expression as he stomps loudly back at his place. “Accept that you will never win with me, and maybe you won’t be so triggered every time we talk.”

“Shit, it’s late,” you murmur, lifting your head from the lyrics you’re trying to write down. Now you got the theme —it’s a love song that you hope won’t turn lame— and even a faint idea of a tune, and while Haechan tried to get inspired by other songs and tried instruments he wants to add to the track, you worked on the words.

“Don’t you think we’re trying too hard?” He whispers, placing the guitar on his bed before standing up and stretching.

“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your neck so you can look at him after you turn around on the rotating chair.

“Music should come to you, it should be… spontaneous.”

You’d want to roll your eyes, mostly for the spontaneous part, but he’s right. Most artists don’t think about the songs they make, the song comes to their mind when they’re not thinking about it.

“Yes, but do you think we’re doing such a shitty job with this?”

He shakes his head, walking closer to you. “Not totally, I just think that if we want to be on top, we have to work around it differently.”

You gulp when he hovers over you and grips the side of the chair tightly. “Like?”

“We should… relax. Take our mind off of it and just wait for it to come,” he glances at the desk, studying the crumpled tries you gave up on and the only three phrases you were happy with written on the tablet. “We should get inspired,” he whispers, and you’re once again so focused on his face that you don’t feel his hand on your thigh, under the long black skirt you’re wearing, it surely must’ve been on you for a while if the fabric was already crumpled up and his fingers teased the hem of your panties between your hips and stomach.

“Is — is this how you inspire people?” You ask, glancing down with a rising chest but for some reason not pulling away.

“Don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” he chuckles, slowly moving closer to your core, observing the small signs of your body. “Should we see if it works?”

You hate him. You should be working on that lyric for the last half hour you have left. You hate him. He’s making it impossible for you to stick to your ‘minding my business’ plan that had worked through all your school years. You hate him, you do, and yet you nod, humming a feeble ‘yes,’ in response.

“Good,” rolls out of his lips, and it sounds so different from his usual tone, you can’t help but feel hot.

Your nails sink in the chair when his fingers slip right against your clit after he had your consent and starts teasing it.

“So, it’s a love song…” he says, and you frown, heart pumping louder as for a second you think he led you on and you looked like a pathetic horny loser, but his hand is still playing with your pussy and his face is still close to yours. “Chose that because you have somebody in mind?”

“We literally picked it for a reason last week, you —”

“God,” he shushes you up, pushing the panties to the side and teasing your entrance, it’s already damp, but not enough how he wants it. “Can you stop being so rational for once? I know why we picked it; remember I’m trying to inspire you.”

“Wait, you really think some fingering can inspire me to write a love so—” your words shut down when he places a hand on your mouth, eyes widening but pussy leaking an embarrassing amount of cum.

He quirks a brow in surprise and, shortly after, a smug smirk curls his lips. “Oh, so you’re into that?”

You can’t reply, but even if you could’ve, you’re not sure you would’ve said anything.

“So, anybody in mind?”

You shake your head. Your love life has been anything but exciting, and after a few tries, you were sure it wasn’t what you needed to focus on, especially because nobody sparked your interest. Nobody was worth moving your focus from your studies.

“Great, so I guess that’ll have to be me.”

“What?” You mutter muffled, closing your legs and moving on the chair.

Haechan rolls his eyes in his skull, keeping you in place. “Oh, come on, you can fake it for a few minutes. Don’t act disgusted, I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he says.

“Not yet.”

“I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he retorts after he pushes into you with two fingers, staring right into your eyes.

You bite back a moan and a curse under your breath. “Fine, but I don’t want to think,” you say. “Just, prove it to me. If you’re good, I’ll be inspired and I’ll come up with the lyrics, if you suck, we’ll go back to our original method.”

Haechan hates that he constantly has to prove things to you, and he hates even more that he does it, almost as if he’s your dog and he has to follow your orders while you keep him on a leash. But if this will work to come up with a great song, and in his outer-songwriting-course-plan to distract you, he won’t complain.

Honestly, he couldn’t complain even if it only meant to finger you. He might want to fight you every time he sees your face but, damn, what a face.

“Shit,” you moan. You don’t want to give him too much satisfaction, but he knows what he’s doing and it’s been way too long since someone touched you like that. Damn, even since you touched yourself like that. Maybe the whole ‘staring at your goals’ was taking some funny things away from you.

“Do you want to turn the song into a Hozier song?”

You huff, you just asked him one thing and his mouth is running again doing the opposite. “You wish you were this good to inspire a Hozier type of song.”

“Really?” He taunts, pressing his thumb on your clit, starting to tease the throbbing nub in circles.

“Yes,” your voice trembles, but your face shows confidence.

Haechan snickers, quickening the pace of his fingers, watching you fight against yourself to not show how much you’re loving it. “One second of this mouth on your pussy and I’d make you change your mind,” he whispers right against your ears, hot breath fanning your skin. “It’s a shame you don’t deserve it.”

You groan, head rolling back in disappointment, and that makes him laugh.

“You have to think twice before running that mouth, babe. Especially with me.”

“Never,” you talk back, opening your eyes and regretting as soon as they meet his. His gaze is too intense, and your brain is too far gone to keep it up.

Haechan only grins, enjoying your wrecked face and the sounds your pussy is making as his fingers keep working on you. You might try to deny him, but your body is speaking to him, and deeply so are you. It’s in your eyes, and your lips trembling, and in the beautiful moans that are rolling out of your tongue.

“Are you close, brat?”

You don’t have it in you to complain, or retort, the orgasm is right around the corner and you fear he would ruin the experience if you said something out of line.

“Answer me,” he orders, lightly slapping your thigh.

“Yes,” you breathe out, biting your lower lip to prevent the whole house from hearing you.

“Good,” he replies, smiling proudly and starting to move faster in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he reaches the base, and torturing your clit with his thumb. And when it’s too much for you, you come. Body trembling against the chair, and legs pushing up as the shocks of pleasure run through you.

“Acid when you talk but sweet to taste,” he hums after pulling out his fingers from his mouth and you only glare at him as you quickly try to get yourself together again. 

“It’s late,” he says, staring at the clock. “Go home and let me know if this was useful somehow. And not by replaying it in your mind at night wishing I was there with you.” He winks and you slap his shoulder hard. “What the hell!”

“I won’t come up with anything on purpose, and I swear if you keep being so annoying, I’ll be terrible at this.”

“You would never, this makes up like 80% of our final grade.” He challenges you with a glare.  

“If I go down, you go down with me,” you retort, face to face, fiercely looking into his eyes.  

“It’s not smart of you.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you smile sweetly before it drops from your face. “It’s a threat.”

It’s not like you’re trying to avoid him after what happened, but that’s exactly what’s going on. You don’t regret the act per se, you just can’t believe it was so easy for you to agree to do that with him. And you know he will use it against you for eternity.

A very dumb move from your side to give him the possibility to tease you even more and about something you couldn’t defend yourself from.

But if you try your best to change corridors when you see him from afar, walk quickly back to your dorm room, and sit on the opposite side in class (you fail at keeping your mouth quiet, but you need to discuss with him during lessons), it seems like he’s doing everything he can to be on your path.

“I’m starting to believe you’re a stalker,” you huff, clearly scaring him when you stop abruptly in the middle of the library and make him stop in his tracks.

“I’m not.”

You raise a brow, staring at him until he huffs and throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, fine, I was following you but only because I wanted to know what you will study.”

“Why do you care so much about what I study?”

“So I know how to beat you?”

“Isn’t it more exciting if you beat me only using your brain by putting some knowledge in it without seeing my cards?” You say, pushing a finger on his chest and making him walk backwards until his back hits the bookshelf behind him.

“I think sneaky games are funnier, though,” he whispers, hand moving to rest on your side. “Especially with you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, and taking a step back, freeing yourself from his hold. “The games you’re playing are not sneaky. Why are you always in my business?”

He shrugs. “Why not? So, what are we studying today?”

“We are not studying together.”

“Why? Isn’t it funny? The same study method, same hours, but one of us will be better than the other. That’s a truly equal comparison.”

You run a hand on your face and keep walking to find what you need. “If you didn’t distract me every two seconds, I would’ve already been like five pages into my studying session.”

“Oh, please, you are wondering around the library anyway. I’m just keeping you company.” His body follows yours like a shadow, his heat radiating so close to your skin that you think you might go insane.

“I don’t want your company,” you say, moving your eyes swiftly over the books in front of you as you try to find what you are looking for in the sociology section. When you finally find it, reminding yourself you have to buy it so you can annotate directly on yours, you walk back to your table, but Haechan is still beside you like a puppy on a string. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I could, and I’d want to, but I can’t,” he says, sitting at your side, smiling widely when you glare at him.

“This is a useless lesson for you,” you try to dismiss him.

“Is it? Because we have the same ones.”

“Jesus, okay, fine,” you give up, throwing your head back and raising your voice enough to make some heads turn in your direction. His biggest talent is to exasperate you. “But we give ourselves a timing, and then when we’re done, we’ll have to answer five questions.”

“And who answers to them all?” He asks, there’s a taunting edge in his voice, and a grin on his face.

“Is the best,” you reply as if it’s obvious.

“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”

“Being better than you is the prize.”

Haechan scoffs, and he hates to admit in his mind that he finds your snarky remarks so fucking hot, if you weren’t in a public library and if his job on earth wasn’t to detest you, he would’ve already had you bent on the table.

“I love how you’re always so sure of being better than me.”

You snicker and send him a flying kiss. “Honey, I am better than you.”

“Wait, I just left out a detail!” You almost scream when you compare your answers for the nth time because you can’t believe he has done slightly better than you.

“That detail is important,” Haechan replies unfazed by your indignation.

“No, it’s not. We would have the same score if this was graded,” you insist, feeling more angered than you should. It’s nothing serious, it shouldn’t be serious, but with him, there’s your pride on the line.

“But this is between me and you, so I win. Also, my phrasing in the second answer is better than yours.”

“Shut up, it’s not.”

“It is, and you just have to admit you lost,” he insists, leaning over, staring at you with a challenging raised brow.  

You swallow, eyebrows furrowing, and then you sigh. “Your advantage is minimal. And you only won a battle, because I’m winning a war.”

“Fine, Napoleon, I still won and you’re coming to my place even Saturday so we can do this some more.”

“Hey, Napoleon sucked! He lost the most important battles, the only ones he should’ve won.”

“That’s why I called you that,” he winks, clicking his tongue mockingly.  

“Oh, you think you will win the war? You’re wrong, honey, Waterloo is yours.”

Haechan laughs, standing up after putting his things in his bag. “I’m waiting for you on Saturday…” he says and before you can complain he starts singing, “Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…”

“Oh, shut up!” You say, hitting his arm as you push him away, but he giggles and walks away continuing with the tune.

“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to…”

And you think that if only he didn’t try to sabotage your final grades in Music History, you might even find him funny.

Haechan hates you.

If he was sure he didn’t before, he is sure that he does now.

He can’t wrap his head around the fact that you, Miss zero social skills, and negative 100 friends, can be so good at debating. On every fucking topic. You’re well-spoken, witty, smart, somehow it looks like you know everything about everything. And even when you don’t know (and you always specify it — which he shouldn’t find so hot, but he does) you always come up with perfectly thought theories and analyses coming from the small knowledge you have on the topic. The thing he also hates is that you never sound like you’re showing off your skills, it’s just really nice to listen to you and —when he’s not the one intervening against you— you’re the sweetest person ever and everybody in every class absolutely adores you.

He wonders if you’re a robot. Maybe you’re some sort of artificial intelligence sent there to conduct studies on humans’ stupidity, and he was unlucky enough to start a fight with you. You just don’t seem real. And he’d love to dig deeper but he doubts he will find anything relevant.

You might be smart, but you also look incredibly boring. He tried to find out if you had interests, or anything that could distract you, but his research led nowhere. The biggest problem is that he hates you, but not to the point that he wants to get you suspended from University, so he has to find another way to make you slip.

Apparently, you’re playing the same game, but even at this, you are thinking faster and smarter.

“Where the fuck are all my anthropology notes?” Haechan mutters as he looks through his library, moving books and notebooks around, thinking he has gone insane. “Mark!” He screams, rushing to the desk to search again but he knows where he left everything; on the second shelf of the small library in his room, on top of the music theory book that hasn’t moved since a week.

“Yes?” His housemate peaks from the door only with his head.

“Did you mistake our notes?”

“What notes?” Mark furrows, backing away from his friend who looks out of his mind.

“The anthropology notes,” he says, voice full of annoyance because, why does Mark never know anything? He’s in the same course and, yet, he’s always somewhere else with his head. 

“Man, I don’t even take notes during that lesson.”

“What do you mean you don’t? Ugh, never mind,” Haechan groans, rolling his eyes because he can’t believe he can’t count on anybody. “Have you seen them somewhere?”

“Nope,” Mark replies, entering the room. “I mean, I don’t know what they look like.”

“You know right we have a test tomorrow? The winter break is close, and some courses have it. You are studying, right?”

“Yeah, just not every…thing…”

Haechan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Why don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s not really music related but it teaches you so much about other cultures and there’s a whole part about how music is different from culture to culture.”

“Next semester, we didn’t get there, yet. It’s a bunch of complicated terminology and theories I just don’t get,” Mark defends. He never understood why Haechan loved studying so much. He is only there for the music, and a few other theoretical lessons, but some courses don’t make any sense to him.  

“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”

“I just want a decent result; I don’t strive for perfection like you and your girlie.”

Haechan almost chokes on his saliva. “My girlie? Who’s my girlie?”

“That girl in class you always get into heated arguments with, and then she comes here and I’m pretty sure you make out when no one’s watching,” Mark says so calmly it infuriates Haechan more than if he was teasing him.  

“Shut the hell up! She’s my mortal enemy and while you have been paired with Yangyang for the song project, Professor Park thought it was nice putting her and me together.”

“Yeah, you can still make out with your mortal enemy,” he snorts, hitting his friend with a playful elbow hit.  

“Mark, shut up and leave, I have to study,” he tries to cut short, pushing his friend out of the room.  

“With what notes?”

“I don’t know. I left them on the shelf, and nobody entered my room since Saturday when she — Oh, my God.”

When your name resonates in the empty classroom after you’ve taken the anthropology test, your blood freezes for a second.

“Haechannie,” you cheer cheekily, turning around and pushing your tote bag far up your shoulders.

“Don’t,” he warns, lifting a finger to stop you from starting anything. “I have to talk to you.”

“Sure, the test was easy, right? You might have beaten me this time,” you say but you have to hold back a laugh when you scan his furious, pissed-off expression.

“Yeah, if you studied, it was,” he retorts venously.  

“And you surely studied,” you say, faking innocence.  

“You can study when you have something to study on,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, and you do,” you still play dumb, but when he calls your surname, you know he’s not joking anymore. “Yes?”

“Do you, perhaps, know where the fuck my notes are?”

You look around, shrugging. “Where are your notes, Donghyuck?”

“I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason,” he retorts, plastering a fake smile that doesn’t reflect in the darkness of his pupils.

“They might’ve mixed up with my stuff when you invited me over Saturday?” You sing-song, tilting your head to the side and shrugging.

“Might’ve,” he repeats, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “It was just a coincidence.”

You shrug again, pushing your lower lip in a pout. “Sometimes… things happen.”

“And if it wasn’t on purpose, why couldn’t you just text me?”

“Because I didn’t notice,” you reply innocently, batting your lashes, knowing it will get on his nerves even more.  

He groans, closing his eyes to calm himself down before he speaks again, “then how do you know?”

“Don’t know, just making assumptions,” you say. “It turns out I’m really good at it.”

“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”

“To what? Choke me because I got my revenge? Oh, it turns out it’s really not that funny when someone plays with you?” You mock, and in doing so you get closer to him.

“Goddamn,” he groans before your back meets the hard wall of the room and his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, his hands on your body and yours limp at your side as you’re too shocked to react. “I want to — I want to kill you, actually.”

You smirk, chuckling straight at his face. “Filled the space with the wrong letter, ‘cause you’re kissing me.”

“Maybe my kiss is lethal, maybe there’s poison on my lips.”

“Oh, you’re so romantic you’d die for me?” You coo, placing a hand on your heart.

Haechan groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you always so, so, so, God,” he curses, running his fingers in his hair. “I want my notes back, now.”

“I don’t have them,” you say, grinning because he looks wrecked. You know it wasn’t very morally mature for you, but it was only fair. Also, you know he doesn’t arrive last minute with anything, he had already studied everything and you’re sure he had answered everything on that paper, he just couldn’t revisit.

“My notes back when you pass by for the project or it’s war.”

“It’s already war,” you retort when he walks past you to leave.  

Haechan turns around, locking his gaze with yours. “Oh, honey, it can get so much worse than this.”

You felt like testing your luck when his notes weren’t back on his desk, but you had no idea it could get worse than that, until it got.

When he deleted an essay from your computer and you had to remake and finish the work of five days in five hours, so you cancelled a project he was working on for another assignment you had. And then he erased the recording of a course from your phone, so you ripped his notebook in front of his eyes (and his roommates too). The list of petty things is long, and you’re not really proud (you’re sure not even Haechan is) of what you did, especially when things started becoming personal. You two want to destroy each other, but you are honestly just killing yourselves in the meantime.

Your book slams closed so hard that you almost zip your hands in it, and by protecting your fingers you lose track of where you’ve been. “Get lost,” you whisper bitterly as soon as you recognize the hand that did that.

“No thanks,” he replies, sitting next to you.

“I’m trying to read a book in the quiet of the library, so can you leave me alone?”

“It’s a public space, I can sit wherever I want,” he replies, leaning back into the chair, and widening his legs under the table. You know ‘cause you feel his knee push against yours and you have to retract your leg to avoid the contact.  

You glare at him, breathing deeply through your nose because you can’t make a scene here. You two almost got kicked out of a class two days ago, and that was humiliating enough. So, you think that ignoring him is the best thing you can do.

“Wow, so you have a bit of self-control and don’t talk back. Never thought I’d see that day,” he replies sarcastically to your silence with an amused grin that curls his lips.

You hold back a scream and huff loudly, “I truly need you to get fucked right now.”

“Nevermind,” he jokes, pulling a tight forced smile and you close the book again, now too annoyed to even focus on the words on the paper. “I came here in peace, by the way.”

“Yeah, your peace is war in my country,” you reply bitterly, trying to shift away but those damn chairs make the loudest sounds at the smallest movements.  

“That’s because you’re full of prejudices.”

You inhale deeply, rubbing your temple to soothe the headache you know is about to arrive. “Haechan, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”

He smiles, happy you are finally willing to listen, before he clears his throat. “Okay so, I have to say that some of this is funny. I mean, only the debates and these random talks, but I’m not the biggest fan of all the other stuff we’re doing, so why don’t we bring it back?”

“Bring it back? As in?” You question, raising a brow in confusion.

“I liked it better when we would just compete without tearing ourselves down. If you cancel, ruin, or save one of my projects with the word boobs in it before sending it to the professor another time, I will go insane.”

You hold back a chuckle. You have to admit it was your lowest move, but it was quite funny when Professor Choi had a whole talk in class about being careful before sending out finished projects and exposed him in front of the class.

“No, it wasn’t funny,” he mutters sternly, watching you fight with all the muscles of your face to don’t break into a laugh.

“No, sorry, it was,” you defend, voice trembling, threatening a chuckle to come out. “Like Iloveboobsdemo1 is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. That could be the title of our song.”

“If you want to get expelled from all the academies in the world that would be a perfect idea,” he says, trying to be serious because seriously it wasn’t funny, but when you stare into each other’s eyes for too long none of you two can hold back the laughter anymore. “Okay, fine. It was funny, but I don’t want that to happen again.”

“So? Do you give up?” You taunt, tilting your head after placing it on your palms.

“I’m not giving up, we are changing strategies of our combat.”

“Oh, okay. You will lose anyway in the end, so if this can be more beneficial for me in the meantime, it’s fine.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples, and you chuckle. “Don’t laugh,” he whispers distraught. “I… could you sometimes at least pretend to give me some kind of chance of winning with you and not feeling like you’ll always have the last laugh?”

“I just replied.”

“No, a reply would’ve been ‘Yes, Haechan, don’t worry, we can change it.”

“Too wordy,” you comment, waving him off with a movement of hand.

“You said like ten words more,” he replies, voice breaking in his throat in a whine, but you decide to act as if you don’t notice.  

“It still flowed better. See, that’s why the lyrics are in my hands. You’re really not good with words.”

“You keep doing that,” he groans, slamming a hand on the table, attracting some curious eyes on you before you glare them away. “But it’s fine, okay, so… no more dirty games? No more sabotaging?”

“Yes, no more. Well, not like this, but we can still play a bit, right?” You ask, retracting your hand right when you’re about to hold his to seal the deal.

“Yes, but nothing weird, or you know what I mean.”

You hum, reaching out again and shaking his hand. “It’s a deal, then?”

“It’s a deal.”

The deal somehow turns into Haechan always being next to you. He’s like a shadow, sitting next to you in class, studying with you in the library, and so on. You don’t mind him when he minds his business, but he rarely does. Especially during lessons when you need to focus on what the professors are saying.

You roll your eyes when Haechan sneaks a paper next to your notebook and you read ‘how would a dog wear pants’ with two badly drawn different options on it.

“Does it look like the right moment?” You whisper under your breath, side-eyeing him, and trying to keep your focus on the lesson. You see him nod and decide to mark the second option, thinking that he’d be happy with it, but he has the urge to hear a whole dissertation on something that will never happen, right now.

“Why?” He asks as if you’re not in the middle of a lecture.

“Not now.”

“But this lesson is boring,” he whines, poking your side with his elbow.  

You huff, covering it with a cough when you realize it is too loud, and then take a sip from your bottle of water.

“You didn’t answer,” Haechan insists, this time poking your arm with the cap of the pencil. 

“I picked one,” you mutter, pointing at the paper with your head.  

“Elaborate and change my mind.”

“You think it’s the first one?” You say in disbelief, the utter shock causing the tone of your voice to be louder than you expected.

“Any problems there?” The Professor asks, and you feel your blood freeze.

“Mh, no, nothing, my pen has no more ink, I was asking for another one,” you lie, thanking God you two are sitting far in the back of the class and the Professor can’t hear and can’t see that your pen isn’t dead at all. So, with a suspicious nod, the middle-aged man goes on with the lecture while Haechan giggles beside you.

You glare at him, and he shrugs raising his hands. “If you kept quiet, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you let me concentrate on the lesson instead of asking dumb questions, it wouldn’t have happened,” you retort, and he laughs under his breath again, but doesn’t ask more questions. He still ruins your notes with ugly flowers and other drabbles and you let him be because at least he’s being silent and paying attention.

“So, you really are giving up,” you say when the bell rings and the class starts emptying.

“What makes you think that?” He asks, putting his things in his bag, just like you.

“You didn’t write anything down.”

Haechan shrugs. “Why would I? I have your notes.”

“No, you don’t,” you say but before you can realize he rips the notebook from your hands and snaps a picture of the two pages you wrote. “Hey! That’s not fair. That’s my work.”

“Your amazing summarizing skills and my artistic skills. I don’t gift beautiful sunflowers to just anybody.”

“Beautiful sunflowers?” You snicker, starting to walk down the stairs, pushing the notebook into your bag as Haechan follows at your side. “If Renjun saw them he would have a heart attack.”

“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”

“Keep Picasso out of your mouth,” you say threateningly.

“Still, aren’t you happy you will think of me while studying?” He bats his lashes, and you hold back an entertained grin.

“Can’t wait to go through the absolute most painful ulcers every time I glance down on those things.”

He gasps offended, bringing a hand on his chest. “See, this is what happens when you spend all your days on socials and your brain doesn’t know how to appreciate real art anymore.”

“You are so annoying, and distracting. Next time if you sit next to me, I’ll push you off the chair,” you warn, and only when a colder blow of wind hits you, you realize you’re walking back to your places together.

“Right!” He says and you think it’s the good time he leaves you alone, but no, he’s not done. “You didn’t explain why the dog would wear it only on its hind legs.”

“Is it really that serious? Why do you want to know so badly?”

“It’s funny. I’m sick and tired of hearing you only discuss music, sociology, and the media and other stuff.”

You sigh. But you still have a bit to walk, so you might as well have to deal with him and his hypothesis about dogs. “Because pants have to cover your lower body, so legs, and ass and everything else. If you wear them like the first option, half of the ass is out. And also, the back limbs correspond to our legs, we’re divided in half horizontally, not vertically.”

He doesn’t reply right away, processing your answer. And you think you broke him.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “Zootopia, animals wear clothes like the second picture.”

“Really? You had a whole statement that made perfect sense and then you added a cartoon to your thesis?”

“But it still makes sense,” you argue back. “And, most importantly, I made you agree with me,” you wink before stopping when you reach your complex.

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” he gives up before looking behind you. “You live here?”

You nod, searching for the keys in the tote bag, and you think it’s time to stop pretending that’s Mary Poppins’ bag and throw away some useless stuff.

“I thought there were only rooms here,” he states, looking at the big complex a few meters away from the university.  

“There are common dormitories, and then there are some one-room flats. I got one with a scholarship when I graduated. It’s less expensive than an apartment and I get a small place all to myself.”

“Oh,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he thought you had roommates. “So, you’re alone, alone?”

“No, you can’t come in,” you say.

“I didn’t ask that,” he frowns, offended you would even imply that. “I thought you… well, oh, never mind.”

“Yes, I’m alone, so I can do whatever the hell I want. If I want to cook, I cook. If I want to stay up all night to study, I do that. If I want to dry the clothes in the middle of the living room, that is also the bedroom and the kitchen, I do that.”

“Is it really that small?”

“It’s decent, I guess. It’s spacious enough to live in it comfortably but not big to the point I have to waste days cleaning it.”

“Maybe we could study there, no loud roommates screaming in the living room.”

“I like the mess of your place, and I’ll be there Friday.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Come on, I hate the library. Can’t we for once study at your place?”

“I never invited you to my studying sessions,” you groan.

“But you love it.”

“No.”

“Yes, you have an orgasm every time you know something better than me.”

“Please, shut up,” you wave him off, starting to walk away.

“I don’t care, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he screams when you’re too far, clearly running away from him.  

“And I’ll be at the library!”

You never go to the library, to be honest, you were just unlucky enough that the washing machine thought it was the right moment to leak all over the floor and Haechan found you at home with your coat on the couch, the tote bag next to the door and your jeans half soaked as you tried to fix the mess on the pavement.

From that moment, your meet-ups become more and more periodic, whether it’s at your place, his or at the library. You hate to admit it, but the competition drives you forward, and you love seeing his face every time you defeat him somehow.

“Are you busy this Saturday?” He asks while he strums with the guitar to come up with a chord progression for your song.

“Yeah, why?” You reply, poking the cap of the pen to your cheeks, drifting your eyes on him.

“Want to go out with me?”

“What? Saturday is my day to study and do my things like I want to,” you say. It was the only day, along with Sunday, you had to fix all your notes without being wrecked from the lessons of the day, or listen to lessons while cleaning the house, and so on. You tried to squeeze everything there so Sunday could be your free day and you could dedicate it to your hobbies and to write for the magazine you worked for, nothing too serious, just some money to add to the survival costs that your parents would send you, and the monthly entrance you had when you would get called to help a dance studio downtown.

“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”

You huff, slumping back on the chair. “No, we’re not. I’m busy.”

“You can take one afternoon for me,” he replies, placing the instrument next to him. “Come on, it will be fun.”

“Where would you even take me?”

Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”

When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.

You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.

When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.

“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”

“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”

Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”

“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”

“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”

“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”

“You have a car?”

“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.  

You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”

“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.

Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”

“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.

“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.  

You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.

“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.

“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.  

“Wanted to take the metro?”

You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”

“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”

You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”

“You have a car?”

“No, I have a driving playlist.”

“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”

“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.

Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”

“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’

“Oh God,” he whispers.

“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.

“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”

You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.

“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.  

“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.

You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”

“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”

“Once,” you reply immediately.

“Twice, with the kiss…”

“You did that to shut me up.”

“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”

You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.

“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”

“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”

“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”

“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”

He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”

“And attracted to honey.”

“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”

“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”

You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”

“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”

“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”

The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.

“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.

“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”

“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”

“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”

“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.  

“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”

“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”

You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”

“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”

“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”

Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”

“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.

“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.

You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.

“But it was still better than this, I guess?”

You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”

He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”

You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”

His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”

“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”

Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”

“I have some notes to edit and —”

“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”

You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”

It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.

“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.

“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.

“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.

“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.

“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”

“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture. 

Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.

“Haechan, what are y—”

“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”

You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.

“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”

“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”

“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.

He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”

Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”

“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.

You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.

“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”

He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”

“What if they lock us inside?”

“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”

You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.

“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”

“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.

“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.

You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”

His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”

“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”

“Yeah, until you forget everything.”

You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.

“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”

You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.

“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.

Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”

You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.

His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”

You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.

“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”

“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.

“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”

“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.

“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.

“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”

You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”

“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”

You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.

He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”  

“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”

“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.

“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”

“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”

Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.

“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”

“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.

His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”

“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.

“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.

You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”

You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.

“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”

“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”

“Stop mocking me!”

“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”

You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.

“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.

“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.

He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.

When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.

“Eager, honey?”

“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.

“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.

You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.

One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.

Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.

“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.

“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”

“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.

“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”

You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.

“Yeah? And who’s that?”

“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.

“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”

You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.

“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”

“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.

Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”

“You’re not the professor so…”

“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”

You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”

Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.

“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”

You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.

Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”

“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”

When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.

“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”

You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.

“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”

“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.  

“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”

“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”

Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”

You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.

“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”

“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.

“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”

You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.

“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.  

“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”

Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.

“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”

“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.   

“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”

You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.

“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”

“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.   

Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”

“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.

“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.

“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”

“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face.  And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.

“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”

You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.

You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.

“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.

“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.

“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.

“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.

“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”

You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”

Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”

“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.

“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”

You chuckle, deciding to believe him.

“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.

“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”

He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”

“They locked us in!”

He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”

“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.

“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”

“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.

“No,” you say resolutely.  

“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.

“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.

Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.

And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.

When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.

You can’t believe you followed him blindly.

Your hands are still intertwined.

With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.

There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.

Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.

Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.

He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.

You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.

But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.

“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.

“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”

“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.

What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.

“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.

“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.

You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”

“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.

“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.

“Are you hinting at something?”

“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”

“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”

“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”

“Do you?” He winks.

“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.

“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”

“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.

He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.

But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.

“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.

“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”

You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.

“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”

Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.

“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.

“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”

“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.

“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”

“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”

“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.

He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.

You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.

His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.

“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”

“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.

Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.

“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.

I played with your heart.

And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.

“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”

“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.

“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.

“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”

“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”

He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”

“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”

“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.

“That’s a crazy choice.”

“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.

“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.

One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.  

“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.

“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.

Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”

You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”

“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”

“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.

“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.  

“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”

“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.

“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”

Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.

“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”

Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”

You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”

“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”

You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”

He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.

“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”

He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.

You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.

You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.

“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”

You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.

You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.

The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.

“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”

“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”

“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.

“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.

“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.

“Yeah but —”

“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”

“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.

Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.

And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.

Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.

“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.

The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.

“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”

You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.

Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”

Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.

He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”

Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.

“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.

“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.

It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.

“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.

When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”

You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”

When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.

“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”

You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.

You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.

“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”

You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.

There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.

“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”

Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.

“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.  

You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.

“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”

You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”

“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.

“Yeah, just coffee.”

He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.

A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”

“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”

“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.

“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”

“Who’s fucking?”

“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.

“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.

“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.

Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”

“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.

“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”

“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.

“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.  

“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.

“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”

“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”

“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.

You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”

When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”

You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.

“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”

“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”

“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”

you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)

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© neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 

[dark-konohagakure2]

Fugaku Uchiha mistakes his daughter for his wife and ravages her pussy without shame.

tw: incest, father/daughter, accidental incest, noncon, drunk sex, abuse, cheating, somnophilia, manipulation

All characters depicted are 18+

Fugaku is a very busy man, being the head of the Uchiha Clan, a husband, and a father of three, it can get very stressful, and while he's usually able to take it in stride, even he can get stressed out a times, to the point where he could really use a drink to take the edge off. He only really drinks when Mikoto is out of the house, he doesn't want his beloved wife to worry about him after all. Fugaku was only planning on sharing a few drinks with the police force, but one thing leads to another, and now he's coming home drunk in the dead of night.

He isn't terribly disoriented, but the liquor has made his mind a bit hazy, making it difficult to see, especially in the dark house, not only that, but the effects of the alcohol have gone straight to Fugaku's cock, leaving him with a leaking hard on that only his wife can fix. He knows how understanding and eager to please him Mikoto is, so he'll drunkenly look for her before quickly finding her. Fugaku's befuddled mind doesn't question why she looks a bit shorter, or why she's in their daughters bed.

Being drunk off his ass, Fugaku isn't really thinking straight, instead letting the head between his legs do all the thinking for him, a rare moment of irresponsibility for the clan head as he clumsily sheds his pants, just barely able to line up with the correct hole before thrusting into his 'wife' with a moan. All is well at the beginning, he's feeling relief for the first time in weeks, but he pauses for a moment upon realizing that it's not his wife he's fucking, it's his daughter.

If Fugaku was sober, he might consider stopping, but he's not in a sober state of mind, the only thing on his mind right now is getting off after such a stressful week, and if his wife isn't available, his daughter is the next best thing. She's old enough to get fucked, and inbreeding isn't very frowned upon in any of the major clans, so Fugaku feels no shame about what he's doing.

"Fuck... My mistake... you just look so much like your mother that I thought you were here... You're just as beautiful as her... and even tighter than she is..."

He's now completely aware that he's fucking his own daughter, but he's either too drunk or too horny to care. Fugaku has been needing this release for ages now, so surely his girl can be a good girl for her daddy and take whatever he dishes out, for his sake. He'll also cover her mouth with his hand as he's ravaging her pussy, he doesn't want her brothers hearing what he's doing to her, or gods forbid her mother walks in.

Fugaku is usually a precise and coordinated man, but all of that goes out the window when hes inebriated, his hips are shaky and sloppy as he pounds her into the mattress, his moans slurred while he practically drools over him. He's still able to maintain a small modicum of his usual strict personality despite his intoxication, reprimanding her if she struggles too much or makes too much noise.

The alcohol will loosen his lips somewhat, making Fugaku much more talkative than usual, although his words are slurred and just hardly legible, he'll switch between praising and degrading his daughter as he's recklessly pounding her tight cunt, letting her know how good her pussy feels compared to Mikoto's and how badly her daddy needed some pussy after the week he's been having.

He won't pay much mind to where he finishes, if he cums inside of or onto her body is of little concern. His main priority is getting to cum, and where he does it is of no consequence to him. In a moment of post orgasm clarity, Fugaku will have enough clarity to give her a demand before leaving her be for the night.

"That's my girl... Always so eager to please her daddy... Now don't tell your mother about any of this... We don't want to cause even more problems for the clan now do we..?"

Mikoto is going to start wondering why her husband has been so distant with her lately, rarely getting intimate with her anymore. Fugaku will assure his dear wife that their clan needs him now more than ever and that he's been too busy working on creating a better future for all of them, when in reality the true reason is that he's found a much tighter hole to stick his cock in every night.

[atalana]

also as a further addendum to my bill made a huge mistake underestimating stan post - i was recently listening to the commentary for sock opera

and like everyone and their mother can draw the parallels between ford/dipper and stan/mabel, it's one of the major themes of the show

bill gets the first half of the equation just fine - he thinks dipper can be manipulated in exactly the same way as ford, and while dipper will grow past that by the end of the show, in this episode, he's right. the best ways to get dipper to do what he wants, are to tempt him with all the secrets of the universe, and to remind him that he doesn't owe mabel anything, when mabel's done nothing but hold him back and cause trouble for him. it's probably exactly how he talked about stan to ford back in the day, who was still nursing those grudges and wanted to be the one to discover things no one else had

but the fun thing alex hirsch mentions in the commentary for that episode, is that bill doesn't see mabel as a parallel to stan (bc lbr he barely even recognises stan as a person). he sees mabel as a parallel to himself. yeah dipper and mabel are a good team together, but ultimately when it comes down to it, mabel is a powerful creature of chaos who would choose her own happiness over anyone who relied on her. (alex hirsch at this point jumps into bill's voice to say "how about instead of doing something lame, you do something fun, and crush whoever you want in the process!", and that bill genuinely thinks that is going to work, because it would work on him)

he doesn't expect mabel to destroy all her hard work and crush her own dreams just to help dipper. when he says "who would sacrifice everything they worked for just for their dumb sibling?", he's speaking from experience. he wouldn't. ford didn't. given the type of people bill considers worth talking to, i doubt he's ever come across that type of loyalty before

but the audience has, plenty of times, and will see it even harder by not what he seems. because while mabel does have some of the anarchy and selfishness bill sees in her, that kind of loyalty is a huge part of what she shares with stan

and like in a lot of the commentaries the writers say they weren't sure at first if bill would be the big bad, or how exactly the ending would come together, but in retrospect it never could have been anyone else, and there never could have been anyone but stan to defeat him

because so much of this show is about the relationships between family (including found family), what you would or wouldn't give up for them, but then how much better your life is when you value those relationships over temporary personal gain

so of course the main villain is someone so incapable of understanding that that he is utterly blindsided by the person who embodies it the most

[thenameswinterfics]

SCIAMACHY

Fandom: House of the Dragon Pairing: Cregan Stark x DragonDreamer!Reader Settings: Season 2 and post season 2 Summary: As the second child of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn, your father arranged your marriage to the young Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark, in the guise of an arranged marriage that would strengthen the bond between your Houses. But you are haunted by visions of a bloody war shaking the Seven Kingdoms, and the seeds of your doubt are sown when your sister's claim to the throne is challenged. Word Count: 4,4 K Warnings: Angst, mention of death, mention of grief, mention of character(s) death(s), mention of child loss, mention of sibling loss, major spoilers from the book "Fire and Blood" (if you're only following the show please do not read this fic). A/N: I'm back! (sadly for you) This is my very first fic I've written for the HOTD fandom and the very first fic of Cregan. I'm nervous, maybe even more than when I posted my first Sihtric fic, probably because the fandom is vast. It came out different of what I've planned in my head and I lowkey hate the last part, but I hope you still could enjoy it! A special thanks to @foxyanon and @zaldritzosrose for helping me with clearing my outline and for the title, and for her and @legitalicat for the quick beta reading.

Dedicated to my beautiful Cregan wife @sylasthegrim

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Sciamachy: (n), a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadows.

An unfamiliar chill ran down your spine as you walked through the dark corridors of the Red Keep, the place you were born but never called home. The soft crunching of the snow under your boots was the only sound you could hear as you juggled in the darkness, the faintest light in the form of rays filtering through the cracks in the walls and allowing you to see a little. 

The sight was vivid, far too vivid, and all you could do was rub your eyes vigorously, hoping that when your vision cleared you would find yourself surrounded by the crackling fire and warmth of your room in Winterfell, the place you were sent against your will but would be forced to call home once you became its new lady. 

But no matter how hard you tried to clear your vision: you would still recognise the long, oppressive corridors you had walked as a child, emptied of the countless soldiers of the Kingsguard that guarded it. Each step became an echo of the memories you thought you had buried with time, but which rose to the surface like a breath of fire from the dragon's jaws. 

You could still hear the voice of King Viserys, the father who despised you from the moment you took your first breath, guilty of stealing your twin brother's life and living in his name. A father that neglected you for not being born as a man.

You could still hear the voice of your sister Rhaenyra, sweet as honey and warm as a mother's embrace you had never known. You were the little sister she always wanted, the glimpse of freedom amidst her duties to the Crown and the relief from the pain of losing a childhood friend. And it mattered not that you were the quietest of her family, avoiding banquets and receptions in the throne room and sneaking out whenever you could, collecting the brightest bugs and muttering meaningless words, flinching when someone touched your hand: you were still her perfect little sister in her eyes. 

And her love was all you wanted right now. 

Your bittersweet thoughts were interrupted by a loud roar from outside, the sound so loud it made your head spin and your stomach churn. You quickened your pace, hoping to find a larger crack in the wall to see what was happening outside. And there you found a vision that made you freeze.

You saw two dragons, an older one and a younger one, chasing each other across a stormy sky, their dragon scales glowing under the lightning and thunder as their bodies pursued each other in a majestic yet macabre dance. It seemed an innocent game between them, but the claws and talons of the older dragon prevailed over the younger, and you watched helplessly as he fell to the ground like a comet from the sky, swallowed by the sea.

You walked on, your eyes never leaving the scene outside, wanting to help the little dragon disappear into the water. But the more you crossed the corridor, the heavier the air you breathed became, and roars of pain, of burning lands and clashing swords filled your ears like a cursed chant. 

You covered your ears and closed your eyes, stopping your journey towards the throne room. When you opened your eyes again, you saw a room far different from the one you were accustomed to: the vibrant and noisy ambience turned into a ghostly one, the faint rays of moonlight illuminating the Iron Throne. A bloody crown, Jaehaerys' crown, lay abandoned on the throne, rivulets of blood running down to your feet, two dragons lying restlessly behind it. Two children stood before it, their backs to each other, holding each other's hands; you could feel their tortured gaze as they watched the bloody chair, and your heart broke at the sight. 

As you approached, trying to touch the crown, soft footsteps made you turn and you heard a wolf howling in the distance.

And then you woke up. 

Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honour must pay its price. 

These were the words that came out from Cregan Stark's mouth as he escorted Jacaerys to the Wall. They were a testament to how the men of the North were bound by his rigid code of values and honour, and how none of them had ever forgotten or wavered from an oath. 

And when the Stark were called upon to renew their allegiance to House Targaryen, nothing would make them waver.

His father Rickon had already done so when he was summoned to King's Landing and bent the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and a few years later it was Cregan's turn to renew the oath by accepting King Viserys' offer of marriage to the new lord of Winterfell. The young wolf had recently been freed from the regency of his zealous uncle Bennard, and an arranged marriage to a Targaryen princess would strengthen the bond between the two houses since the times of Aegon the Conqueror and Tohrren Stark. 

But when he saw the melancholy in your lilac eyes, Cregan realised that politics was nothing more than a sweet lie masking a more sinister purpose: you were no longer welcome at the court of King Viserys, no matter how much your sister begged to keep you under her protection, or how much Alicent Hightower dared to show a glimmer of mercy. You would have been a young dragon raised by a pack of wolves, and as his future wife it would have been his responsibility to look after you.

And now he was called to be sworn to House Targaryen again, on the brink of a civil war that could involve the North in Southern affairs. 

“The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oath sworn to King Viserys and to his rightful heir,” Jacaerys announced solemnly, walking through the narrow corridors of the Walls, Cregan at his side. The Lord of Winterfell was holding Ice over one shoulder, the sword as heavy as the title inherited from his father. 

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince,” Cregan retorted, occasionally bowing his head to some members of the Night’s Watch, “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South,” he added, a hint of heavy responsibility in his voice. The threats in winter were much greater than in summer, with the Night's Watch and the men of Winterfell stepping up their activities on the Wall, ready to turn back any outside threats. Furthermore, it was rare to see the intervention of the North in matters concerning the South, but Cregan could not ignore that oaths were broken. And traitors had to pay for it.

“War is coming to the whole realm, my lord,” it was the Prince of Dragonstone’s turn to retort back, “Whilst your men plan to raise guards against wildlings, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. My mother’s claim has been compromised, and little I believe your lady wife could turn her gaze away,”

The words that escaped Jace's mouth left Cregan in a state of astonishment, his brows furrowing and hardening his already stern face. He had never expected the prince to use his wife so cleverly, even though she was a trusted member of his house whom he had sadly never met in peaceful circumstances.

“The Queen has not forgotten the love she has for her sister, and King’s Landing will welcome her again once my mother succeeds in keeping the realm united,”

“My lady wife has her sister's fate very much at heart,” Cregan continued, his gaze softening a bit at the thought of you, “and you arrival put her in a state of worry, my prince,”

The two young men then stood on the Wall, looking out over the untamed land, now covered in white snow. A biting wind whipped around them as Cregan explained how such powerful creatures as the dragons refused to cross the spaces beyond the Wall, highlighting the dangers of the unknown that folded these lands, while he and Jacaerys negotiated the number of men willing to aid Queen Rhaenyra's cause. Cregan himself knew the importance of keeping an oath to a man's moral integrity, and while his duties were tied to the Wall and the threat of the wildlings, he could not ignore the dispute over the king's word. 

“My lord,” one of Cregan’s men arrived, forcing the two young men to interrupt their conversation, “Urgent news from Dragonstone,” 

The Wolf of Winterfell took the parchment in his hands, and from the brief glance he shared with one of his men, he knew the contents were far from frivolous. He let the paper slip from his hands to read the message, and a sense of astonishment struck him like the chill of the North: his lips curled into a grimace, his eyebrows furled slightly as his grey eyes scanned the words printed on the paper. He could have thought it was an unfortunate joke, but the seal of House Targaryen only confirmed what he had read: 

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Cregan lifted his gaze to rest on Jacaerys' brown eyes and watched as the young prince's face contorted in confusion, then grief as he glanced at the parchment in Cregan's hands, and hot tears watered his eyes, streaming down his sharp face until two small rivers crossed their path on his chin. The young lord watched helplessly as the Prince of Dragonstone staggered backwards, clutching his chest in a tight fist as if trying to hold it together; it was a sight familiar to Cregan, for he had also lost his younger brother and remembered the same sense of helplessness creeping through his veins. 

But as Jacaerys collapsed in grief, a new weight hit Cregan's chest, a sense of dread blossoming in the centre of his stomach as he steeled himself for what was to come. 

He would have to inform you and to bring the news of Lucery’s death. And it wouldn’t be easy.

The bright orange sun hid behind the imposing mountains of the North, its last rays illuminating the tops of the peaks and tinting the snow a soft pink. As the light faded, a few amber rays filtered through the windows of your chambers, illuminating them with a soft glow - the gentle warmth of the sun blending with the heat of the great fire in the centre of the room, accompanied by the soft crackle of the wood.

You sat quietly at the foot of your bed, embroidery hoop in hand, watching your son Rickon play with his wooden toys beside you. A few handmaids moved about your chambers, preparing the large table for the dinner you and Cregan would share that evening. Your lilac eyes rested on the small figure of your son, who returned them with a broad smile. But as you raised a hand and gently rubbed his swollen cheeks, you were seized by a sense of unease. 

It had been a long time since you and Cregan had been married, and from the first night you spent in Winterfell your mind had been haunted by dark omens hovering over your family name. Glimpses of what had happened in the past and what would happen in the future passed before your eyes like dancing shadows, sometimes appearing even when you were fully awake. You could still hear cries for help filling your ears, dragons fighting in the sky with claws and breath of fire, and sinister whispers plotting an overthrow of power, the image of your father's bloody crown on the throne still vivid in your mind. 

The people of Winterfell had always regarded you with suspicion, for you were far from the Targaryen princess they had always imagined. But Cregan had never dared to question your tastes, however strange they might sound, and whenever the duties of lordship allowed him a moment's respite, he would gladly accompany you to the far reaches of the North and catch whatever bugs you wanted. In winter, when the temperatures were too harsh and the bugs were nowhere to be found, he would wrap his great arms around your form and listen to your strange rhymes as he gazed into the fire. 

Your prophetic dreams ceased after you gave birth to Rickon, but they returned when a raven came from Dragonstone with grim news: the death of your father the King, the usurpation of your sister's claim by the Hightowers, and the loss of Rhaenyra's only daughter. Fear settled in your heart as you remembered the figure of the young dragon swallowed by the waves of the ocean, and you wondered if even innocent children would fall victim to this dangerous game of power. 

The doors of your chambers swung open and Cregan appeared. The handmaids greeted him with a nod of respect, and you gave him a small smile as you watched Rickon rise and reach his father, who scooped him up with his free hand and kissed his little forehead.

But it was when he looked at you that you realised something was wrong. His eyes, softened by the sight of you, held a pain that seemed to be fighting him. It was as if he were carrying a burden too heavy for him to bear, heavier even than his duties as Lord of Winterfell, and the sight surprised you: you had never seen Cregan so troubled by anything.

"Leave us alone," your husband's voice echoed in the room, once again wearing his mask of severity, "I need to have a few words with my wife in private,” 

The handmaids bowed their heads and quickly left the room, one of them holding Rickon in her arms. There was an unspoken tension in the air as Cregan cautiously approached you and sat in front of you. He had always been an attentive and protective husband, showing a side that differed from the stern image he gave his men.

“You seem quite troubled, husband,” you spoke softly, your voice faltering slightly. Cregan replied with a heavy sigh, covering your hands with his larger ones and rubbing them with his calloused thumbs.

“Dreadful news came from Dragonstone, my love,” Cregan said in a hoarse voice, choosing his words carefully, as if talking to a wounded puppy, “Your sister, the Queen, lost a child again,”

You felt the ground beneath your feet, surroundings had become as muffled as your husband's voice as he recited the contents of the parchment:

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Feeling like you were about to pass out, you rolled over onto your side and gripped the wooden footboard in a tight vice. You immediately covered your mouth and looked down at your feet as your mind slowly processed the news, but the shock was so strong that no tears came. Your mind raced back to the dream you'd had weeks before Jacaerys' arrival, seeing pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite understand until now: Lucerys was the dragon that fell from the sky, and Aemond was the other one who sank his jaws into his flesh.

You felt Cregan's worried gaze on you as one of his hands moved to your arm, rubbing it gently in a soothing way. “It pains me to see you so devastated, my sweet wife,” he spoke quietly, breaking the wall of silence between you, “but you must know that House Stark will stand against-“

“I need a moment, please,” your trembling voice interrupted him as you found the strength to stand at your feet, your thick robes swooning with every step you took in the room. You paced back and forth, one hand rubbing the bridge of your nose while the other supported your lower back, grief and confusion mixing in your head as you felt like you were about to succumb to madness: for a moment you wondered if Rickon would fall victim to the Dance as well, but no bad omen was attached to him and that brought you a moment of peace.

Your restless walk ended as you approached the large window of your chambers and saw Vermax flying restlessly outside. It pained you to see such a magnificent creature as a dragon so distraught over the loss of his kin, and it pained you even more when a flash of his fate crossed your eyes as you saw the dragon dancing among hundreds of arrows.

“It is said that dragons can feel their masters’ emotions,” a rough voice came from behind, and you saw Cregan looking outside like you, “They feel their pain, their turmoil, and they share the same grief.” 

“He is preparing for his last flight,” you murmured quietly, turning your head slightly and locking your lilac gaze into his grey one. You felt Cregan’s hand resting on your waist, allowing him to pull you closer and join your foreheads together. 

"Winter is coming, my love, and I need my men here to defend the Wall," he spoke softly, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt the warmth of your skin against his, "but House Stark will pledge its support to Queen Rhaenyra by sending her thousands of Greybeards to fight in her name. Your sister's claim will be upheld and your nephew will succeed her," 

"Jacaerys will never be King of the Seven Kingdoms," you confessed defeatedly, looking down at your feet, "the only kingdom he will see is of sea and salt. He will never see his mother sitting on the Iron Throne. I have seen it,"

Your words brought a heavy silence to the room and you both withdrew into your thoughts. You saw how quickly Cregan and Jacaerys had bonded, how they spent their days hunting and drinking together while they negotiated the terms of war. Luke's death would not be an accident, and you hoped your words would reach your husband, that he would understand the destructive force dragons could be once they went into battle.

Instead, Cregan's only words were his arms wrapped around you, sealing your body in a protective embrace. He whispered words of comfort, kissed your temple and promised victory over the usurpers.

But deep in his heart, he knew it would not be easy.

Grief and anger were the emotions Cregan felt as he rolled the parchment in his hands, his eyes darting over the words written in pitch-black ink. He cursed himself for not believing the signs of your dreams, for thinking that fear had created them for you. But even this time you were right.

The Battle of the Gullet had been costly for the Blacks, and the death of Jacaerys Velaryon was a low blow the queen would not forgive her usurpers. It was Cregan again who had the task of bringing you the unfortunate news, and his eyes would forever be haunted by the sight of your grief: he saw you holding Rickon as the news of blood and cheese reached Winterfell's ears, and those same dull eyes came back to you as you leaned against the wall at your nephew's death.

Not even the news that King's Landing had fallen into the hands of Rhaenyra and Daemon could ease the paranoia you lived with, but it only served to fuel your dark prophecies. Few letters were exchanged between Cregan and Rhaenyra, with the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms constantly asking for her beloved sister and inviting her to return to court and serve if she wished. But Cregan always refused her invitation. 

For the truth was that you were safe in the great lands of the North, surrounded by nothing but the love of Cregan and Rickon, far from that viper's nest that was the Red Keep. It took time for you to adjust to the harsh cold of Winterfell and the coldness of its people, but your calm and gentle nature opened a breach in the heart of his hardened lord, and with it, the people began to love you. 

The night was cold, and the heat of the fire was not enough to protect them from the blizzard raging outside. Cregan could not sleep, tossing and turning, hoping that the Old Gods would grant him some much needed rest. It was only after tossing and turning on his side for the umpteenth time that he saw you awake too, your platinum curls falling gently to your shoulders and your lilac eyes gazing absently at the small bed where Rickon rested. 

The young wolf wrapped his naked arms around your waist and pulled you close, his chest pressed against your back, the layer of your nightgown the only thing separating your bodies. "Sleep seems to have left you too," he said in a harsh voice, his lips brushing against your neck. You closed your eyes and let out a shuddering breath. 

"I have no reason to be asleep, dear husband," you replied absently, the softness of your voice melting his heart. Cregan knew that your mind was far from him, and he feared that your prophetic dreams had imprisoned it again. He let out a long sigh before speaking again.

"A raven came from King's Landing in the morrow," he spoke quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Rickon, "your sister will be pleased to welcome you to the capital and give you all the honours of a Targaryen princess,”

He felt a small chuckle escape your mouth and lowered his head, resting his newly bearded chin on your collarbone, "If it is your wish to reach her, I will order some of my men to arrange a safe journey south for you." Cregan went on, his voice faltering at the thought of leaving you alone while Rhaenyra dealt with her opponents. But you were his wife and the light of his eyes, and if you wished to regain your lost time with your sister, he would accept it without objection.

But the slight shake of your head surprised him, "It wouldn't change anything. Rhaenyra would be dead the moment I reached King's Landing, and the gods know what horrors await there.”

Cregan's brow furrowed, and for the first time he seriously considered the words of your prophetic dreams: if the Dragon Queen was indeed about to die, what would happen if he left his wife alone in the grasp of the Greens? A shiver ran down his spine, anger boiling in his chest at the thought of you being taken prisoner by Aegon the Usurper. 

"That will probably not happen," the Lord of Winterfell scoffed, tightening his grip as if he secretly feared you would disappear in his arms, "You have nothing to fear, my dear woman. Your sister is Queen now. Once the usurpers and the breakers of the oath have paid for what they have done, there will be a reign of peace and prosperity. 

"It will not be her," you murmured, rolling to the other side to face Cregan. You leaned your hand against his cheek as you looked at him with your melancholy eyes, "Rhaenyra is the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but a crown of ashes will adorn her head and a cloak of fire will wrap her body.”

Cregan leaned into your touch, but he could not quite relax at the grim revelation you gave him: he wanted to find comfort in your presence, but your words were as hard as boulders, carrying a heavy weight he wanted to lift from your shoulders.

"I can hardly see it," he murmured, his voice tinged with doubt, "Rhaenyra is a strong woman, gathering as many noble men as she can for her cause. The kingdom will be stable under her leadership."

You shook your head slowly again, your eyes filled with sorrow, "But the Dragonfire is stronger than she is, and what she has built will crumble with her," you paused for a moment before continuing, "A throne of iron swords will give way to a wooden one, and only when the cripple breathes his last will a child step in, wearing Rhaenyra's crown like a burden.”

Cregan closed his eyes and tightened his grip, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face as he slowly digested what you had told him. He had learned over time that your dreams were not mere hallucinations of a daydreaming mind, but a prophecy destined to come true, no matter how hard you tried to alter the course of events. The deaths of Jacaerys and Lucerys were living proof. 

“I swear on my honour that I will keep raising my banners for the rightful queen, no matter how gruesome our fates will be,” Cregan retorted, lowering his head more until your foreheads met again, “What will be of us?”

"You are bound by your honour and will fight for Rhaenyra until your last breath, my love," you murmured, absently tracing circles on his cheek with your thumbs, "The wolf will cry in the dragon's nest, and his wolf will be heard in the darkest hour. And only when order is restored will the wolf return to his pack."

Cregan stood in silence, his chest rising slowly as he held his breath, the realisation dawned on him: the intense activity on the Wall and the organisation of the harvest had always prevented him and his men from making a proper march on King's Landing, hoping that the Greybeards he had sent would be enough to fight for Rhaenyra's cause. But your words have confirmed that his men will march on King's Landing, and he hopes to find a less devastated city than the one his wife has described.

“Cregan,” your gentle call awakened him from his thoughts, his head resting on your hands, “promise me you will come back to me and Rickon. Swear it,”

The young wolf stood silent for a moment, his eyes drinking in your beauty: it would be painful to leave you behind, but if your prophecy came true, he would be forced to honour his oath and fight for his queen. And so he took your head in his hands, closing the distance and sealing the promise with a long, bittersweet kiss, tasting of farewell but full of hope.

“I swear it.”

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

Cregan Stark Taglist: @sylasthegrim @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

[almostempty]

Something in your mouth

(joel miller x f!reader)

The third installment of  Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel

WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date

Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit  

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine

Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth

major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect

thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo

it really takes a village or whatever they say <3 

*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and  Part 2 a read for a refresh <3 

*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know 

okay, it's starting now:

You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual. 

When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…

Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice. 

Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him. 

Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist. 

You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text? 

No. No, no, no. 

You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right? 

The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway. 

A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you. 

Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it. 

“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great. 

“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face. 

“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down. 

“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug. 

“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.” 

You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her. 

You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up. 

You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking. 

“What did he say?” 

Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately. 

“Who?” 

Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety. 

You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.  

Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks. 

“Oh, you meant Joel?” 

You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought. 

“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?

You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh. 

Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it. 

So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason. 

“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.

“What?” 

“You’ve got that look on your face.” 

You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?” 

You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it. 

“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust. 

You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out. 

“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.” 

Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up. 

“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—” 

“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.” 

“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask. 

“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod. 

“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”

“A date?” you echo. 

She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late. 

Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.

The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him. 

Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world. 

Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers. 

Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat. 

You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn. 

You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you. 

Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench. 

Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp. 

“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.” 

“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work. 

It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie. 

There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man. 

You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong. 

Except for, well, everything. 

You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day? 

When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem. 

Joel’s text comes through late in the evening. 

Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again? 

You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later. 

Joel: More 

You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise. 

You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line. 

You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more 

Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.

“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative. 

“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day. 

“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.” 

Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason. 

You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store— 

“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply. 

“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”

You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly. 

Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that. 

“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.” 

You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone. 

“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.” 

He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door. 

It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.  

“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone. 

“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”

You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”

“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”

There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.

“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.

“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”

“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”

There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you. 

“Jesus,” he grumbles. 

Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh. 

“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies. 

“Yep.” 

You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.

……..

It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name. 

You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes causin’ trouble.” 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 

His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”

“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once. 

“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work. 

“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”

You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.” 

There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”

You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”

“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?” 

You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.” 

“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.

“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. 

His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”

The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.

“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.

“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.

Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now. 

The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.

“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”

He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently. 

It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations. 

The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you. 

You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head. 

There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.

The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together. 

And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you. 

At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out. 

You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want. 

He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine. 

It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.

He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt. 

By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic? 

You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.” 

Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening. 

Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain. 

You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted. 

“How did you know?” 

“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.” 

You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?” 

“Don’t.” 

She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket. 

You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering. 

You: You been thinking about me? 

His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed. 

Joel: Maybe 

Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already? 

Joel: Have you? 

He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous? 

You: A little  

You figure you’ll give him the same treatment. 

Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby 

Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond. 

Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away 

That has you shaking your head. 

You: Patience is a virtue 

He’s quick to respond again. 

Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man 

That makes you genuinely laugh. 

You: Good 

……

By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting. 

You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous. 

You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery. 

Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath. 

It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good. 

But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly. 

It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam. 

“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him. 

“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon. 

You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan. 

They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore. 

Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?” 

“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms! 

You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you. 

The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable. 

There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace. 

Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers! 

You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research. 

You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback. 

You're so much cooler

When you never pull it out

Cause you look so much cuter

With something in your mouth

It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it. 

“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.” 

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night. 

…..

The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips. 

The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that. 

“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts. 

You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should. 

He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”  

You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself. 

“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists. 

“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“They have food, too.” you counter. 

“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head. 

He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it. 

“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.” 

It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it. 

….

It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions. 

Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening. 

Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up. 

You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?” 

His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.” 

He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.” 

You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first. 

“Relax,” you purr. 

Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax. 

“Do you have cash?” you ask. 

“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused. 

You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows. 

“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’. 

You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.

“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter. 

You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”

“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same. 

Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts. 

The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize. 

I’m loving what you wanna wear

I wonder what’s up under there 

Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue 

You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts. 

You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick. 

You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold. 

You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles. 

Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach. 

“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”

Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”

“Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush. 

Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?” 

The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul. 

“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.

Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous. 

“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”

He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe. 

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”

Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”

He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp? 

Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.

“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”

“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”

He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear. 

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”

His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties. 

“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.” 

“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off. 

His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”

Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up. 

“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”

He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”

Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue. 

Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date. 

But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right? 

You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking. 

You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. 

“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.” 

“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.” 

“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 

Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.” 

You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild. 

It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. 

His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you. 

“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.” 

The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control. 

“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back. 

He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow. 

“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly. 

“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?” 

“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.” 

“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.

Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.” 

The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams. 

“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”

Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”

“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”

He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.

THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOYED OR HATED ANY OF IT <3

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

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[elllisaaa]

LOST THE GAME - JAKE. S

SUMMARY : what was supposed to be the least interesting class of your semester turned out to be the most passionating one when you met jake sim and his tendency to tease. but two could play a game, right ?

-> pairing : college mate!jake x fem!reader

-> words count : 15k

-> genre : college au, smut

-> warnings : switch!jake x switch!reader, teasing, dirty talk, sexting, phone sex, mutual masturbation, praising, dry humping, marking, hair pulling, doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, use of 'good girl', 'good boy' and 'slut', oral (f. and m. receiving), deep throating, cum play, manhandling, quick mention of choking, fingering, begging, riding, panties sniffing, jake is down bad for yn (yes, that's a warning), nipple play, jake is asking consent a lot and it's sexy.

+ the way i'm depicting jake does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> author's note : here we are, my not so little gift for you for valentine's day ! i hadn't planned something at first, but it turned out that i finished this not too long before so i decided to post it on this day. it's the first really long fic that i'm posting here, but i enjoy writing them so much ! shoot out to @xhdream that started it all by sending me a gif of jake during our christmas family gathering and messed with my mind 😭😔. this ended up being really self-indulgent but i hope you'll like it as much as i do !

-> masterlist | enha masterlist

PLAYLIST

🎵 lost the game by two feet

🎶 meddle about by chase atlantic

🎵 i'll make you love me by kat leon

🎶 more by i.m

🎵 it's not easy for you by misamo

🎶 more than friends by isabel la rosa

Leaving all your friends and family for college was not easy. Your freshman year was really hard, having to manage your classes and doing a part time job to be able to afford your rant, and being in a brand new city you didn’t know anything about, nor had any friends to help and support you. You felt on the edge of giving up just before your finals, but that was when you met your best friend, Yeji. She really was a gift, always smiley and willing to cheer you up. Without her, you really didn’t know if you could have continued university, or got your life back together at all. 

But now, here you were, currently in your third year at college, happy and confident about your future. And you really didn’t want to mess it up, so you remained serious, and worked hard to have the grades you got. Even if for some people, psychology was not a “real” major, it was for you, and it was what you wanted to do for your whole life. And you sometimes wondered how they could say that when you had to take science classes. At first, you were not so excited to follow them, thinking that it would be just another thing you would have to study just for the exams and never remember again, but someone made you change your mind. 

Jake was not in the same major as you, that was why you didn’t see him before the start of this semester but he immediately caught your eyes. Well, it would have been hard not to notice him, or you would’ve been blind, because he was really good looking. He was the cliché of the hot college fuckboy, the one so many rumors were spread about, the one who had supposedly hooked up with half of the campus. 

Despite that, you were not one to have prejudices against people you didn’t know, so you gave him a chance, mainly because he was attractive and exactly your type, and also because he seemed to be the only other student to be invested in this class. Surprisingly, he was always participating, sometimes before you even had the chance to do so, and he was doing his work everytime. And so on, he became even more your type because smart people were automatically the most fuckable in your eyes. 

However, you tried to not let your interest in him show. It seemed like he already had an ego, you were not here to fuel it even more. So you stuck to staring at him during your shared classes, under the excuse that you were only closely listening to his answers to your professor's questions. That was until he suddenly decided to sit down by your side on one random Thursday. 

“- Is that seat taken, or can I ?”

You lifted your head, even if you had grown familiar to the sound of his voice by now, seeing Jake, waiting for your approval with a grin on his face. Well, he was asking kindly and really, you could not refuse to have your crush sit with you. You simply nobbed, taking off your bag from the chair so he could sit down. 

“- Thanks !

- No problem.”

Regardless of the confidence you were trying to keep on, you were feeling incredibly nervous. It was the first time you and Jake were this close. Sure, you had talked to each other before, picking up on something one of you had said in class to add other information or to correct each other. But that was it, nothing more. So to suddenly have him so close to you was very strange, but at the same time, you were giddy, like a high-schooler confessing her love to her first crush. 

“- Did you understand the paper we had to read for today ?”

Jake's voice straddled you as you were lost in your thoughts, but you quickly composed yourself again, doing your best to hold his intense gaze. 

“- Yeah. Or at least, I think so, but I struggled a little bit at first. Why did you want to know ?

- Well, you’re the only one except me that seems to give a damn about this class, and you’re smart, so I thought that maybe you could help me, because I didn’t understand anything !”

You chuckled at the defeated tone he used for his last words, perfectly getting his disappointment of not assimilating a new thing immediately, it was frustrating. But at the same time, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought of Jake having noticed you. And he was saying you were smart on top of that ? What started as a not so good day was turning into a much better one. 

“- Of course, no problem. We have some time left before Mr. Lee arrives, so maybe we could go over the paper and you stop me every time there’s something you didn’t get ?

- Works for me ! Thank you Y/N.”

The way he said your name had you fighting demons not to blush and try to concentrate on bacteria and immune system instead of his bright smile and beautiful face. But it was not easy to stay focused when he brought his chair closer to yours so he could have a better view of the drawings you were making to materialize what was explained in the paper. You could feel Jake’s warmth through your clothes and it was so hard to resist the urge to turn your head and just look at him. Thanks to some magical forces surely, you got to the end of it when your professor entered the classroom, greeting his students. 

“- It’s so much easier when you explain everything to me, you’re very good at that, you know ?”

And he was at it again with the compliments, and you were trying to repress a stupid smile from eating up your face once again, whispering when you answered him in order not disturb Mr. Lee, who had already started today’s lesson. 

“- I’m glad I could help.”

Jake's response came in the way of a smile before the two of you started to take notes of what your professor was saying, not having much time to discuss throughout the class. These lectures were always very intense but also very interesting, so you didn’t mind the fast rhythm with which you were approaching each subject. You thought about asking Jake his number at the end of the class, just in case he had another problem with something related to this class of course ! A few years back, you wouldn’t even have dared to consider something like that, but right now you were thinking “why not ?” If anything, he would say no and end of the story. So as you were packing up your things, you started to get your phone out when you were interrupted by Jake once again.

“- I have a class now, but if I could have your number it would be very helpful, because there’s still some things I can’t get a grasp of, if you don’t mind of course !”

You smiled back, taking his phone and typing your number in the new contact he had created before handing the device back to him.

“- Actually, I was going to give it to you anyway. You’re pretty smart too, and you’re funny so it’s not a waste of time.”

Jake chuckled as he put his phone in his back pocket after checking the time. He was going to be late to his next class, but who cared when he finally got to talk to the girl he had a crush on since the beginning of the year ? Certainly not him. 

“- I’ll make it worth it, promise ! Huh, I really have to go but I’ll text you later pretty.”

With a wink, he was gone and left you behind with a beating heart and a stupidly big grin stretching out your lips. 

From this day on, Jake sat next to you every time you shared your science classes. And even if the seat was empty last week because Yeji was sick that day, she happily let the guy take her place with a knowing look on her face, wiggling her eyebrows every time he walked in and greeted you. You acted annoyed every time, but really, it was funny how supportive she was - sometimes, you worried that she was more excited about the whole situation than yourself. 

“- Is it Jakey again ?”

You rolled your eyes as you picked up your phone from the kitchen counter where Yeji and you had spread all your work sheets and textbooks to study. It was Sunday, and you often reserved it to work together and then relax with a movie, while doing each other's skincare and gossiping. 

When you first came to the city for college, you had rented a small apartment with another girl you didn’t know. At the end of your freshman year, she left and since Yeji was searching for a new place to stay because her last roommate was insufferable, you had proposed to her that you live together. She really was the best friend you could ask for, and also the best roommate. But sometimes, just sometimes, you wished she didn’t know you so well as she fake gaged when you laughed at the last text Jake had, indeed, sent to you. You wrote a quick answer before going back to your cognitive psychology assignment. 

“- And what if it is him ? You’re jealous ?

- Of a man ? Never !”

Both of you laughed at her remark, not able to hold back yourselves after being focused for such a long time and having spent the whole afternoon studying. 

“- No but seriously, what do you think of him ?”

You were not one to let other people direct the way you acted or lead you on to choices you wouldn’t have made by yourself but you valued Yeji’s opinion, and she always had something to say about your crushes. Sensing that the subject was no longer meaningless, your best friend put her pen down, thinking for some time about your question.

“- Well, you know all the rumors about him right ?”

You nodded. Of course you knew, especially since you started to talk with Jake two months ago, you paid a lot more attention to the conversations of other students about him. They were all saying that he was a typical frat boy, going to parties, not caring about going to school, and fooling around with every girl he found attractive. But you already knew that a part of that was not true. He was often sending you some parts of texts or lessons he didn’t understand for you to explain, he was really invested in what he was doing, and he had even told you that he was not here to skip classes.

“- And you also know that Lia is friends with his roommate Jay ?”

Again, you nobbed. You knew Lia too, because she was one of Yeji’s childhood friends. You were a little less close to her but she really was a very sweet girl, and you loved to spend time with her. 

“- She told me that Jake was not how everyone is depicting him. Apparently, it’s only because he’s spending time with Heeseung and his frat, and because he hooked up with a random girl at a party during our freshman year. And from there, people created him a reputation, and he never really tried to deny it because, well, everyone would assume that based on his looks and who he’s hanging out with. 

- I guess, yeah. I thought that too when I first met him. And that doesn’t surprise me, he cares too much about his studies to be a frat boy.”

Yeji laughed again, detaching her long, ginger, hair from the hair clip that was holding them in place.

“- I agree, he’s too smart too, and too sweet with you. He genuinely seems like a good guy, and not every guy out there gets your humor so…”

You threw a random highlighter in her direction, pretending to be vexed by her comment.

“- And I didn’t see you smile so much since that dick left you this summer, so I sadly have to validate him.”

Yeji let out a defeated sigh while shaking her head, making you smile again. It was true that you had a hard time because of your “ex”, if you could really label him like that. He was just a guy you met at a party just after your finals were over, and from there, you started to be in some kind of situationship, that was becoming serious for you, but not for him apparently since he left you over a single text and not even an apology. But you were fully over it now, and ready to welcome someone in your life - and bed - again. 

“- I’m glad you’re thinking the same.”

She simply gave you a smile before stretching her arms over her head, repressing a yawn as she did so. 

“- I’m thinking about wrapping up this study session and getting on to the movie.

- Oh my god, yes, thank you ! My brain stopped working one hour ago !”

You both started to tidy up the counter, putting your sheets back in your binder and your pens back in your case. 

“- You order while I’m hopping in the shower ?

- No problem ! Pizza and sushi ?

- You know me so well !”

You giggled as Yeji disappeared in her room, closing the door behind her and letting you finish with your mess. When your phone received another notification, you picked it up again, not holding back your smile when you saw Jake’s contact name popping up this time. 

jakey :  wow ! working on a sunday ? you have a stronger will than me ! you :  ahah only because i’m not doing it alone !  otherwise, i would lie in my bed all day, not doing anything lmao what are you doing ? jakey :  [attachement : 1 image] just relaxing while watching a movie it’s pretty boring tho…

You were not expecting this photo to be a shirtless one of Jake, sprawled out on his bed, and looking at the camera with a pout on his face. You had to pick up your jaw from the floor and mentally stop yourself from drooling over his abs, and his chest, and his arms, and the gray sweatpants hanging low on his waist. Was that flirting ? It was, for sure. Why would he send you that if it wasn’t ? But how could you respond to that ? Sending a picture of the same type seemed a little too provocative, and you didn’t want to interpret the signs wrong. If he was doing this after only two months, what would he be willing to do in a few weeks ? You were curious to see how far he would go to seduce you. 

jake :  why are you not answering pretty ? too busy checking me out ? 😉 you :  in your dreams. jake :  oh yeah, don’t worry about that, my dreams are already filled with your cute face.

You didn’t dare ask him what he meant by that, busying your mind by ordering your dinner and trying to get the image of Jake’s chest out of your mind.

The whole task of not getting your hopes up revealed to be a lot more difficult than you thought it would be when the universe seemed to team up against you. Or at least, you saw it like that as your professor was listing the groups for the new project of the semester.

“- Y/N and Jake, I want you two together for this. Usually, I’d put you in a weaker group to help but I’m very curious to see what you can do when working hand in hand. And that’s all for today everyone, I’ll see you next week and don’t forget to tell me the angle your presentation will address.”

You couldn’t believe that Mr. Lee really did this. It was not that you were horrified by the idea of having to work with Jake, it was the contrary, really, but it also meant spending a lot of time together, because you wanted your presentation to be perfect. You would have to go to the library together, or go work at his dorm, or invite him to your apartment, and all that will certainly not help you to stop your little - or rather big - crush on him, and neither will it help you to stay focused. 

“- You don’t seem so delighted by the news, pretty.”

His voice interrupted your thoughts, and you lifted your head to meet his pouty face, the one he always had on when he was trying to get your attention. It was cute. And his puppy eyes were too. And there, you were feeling all fuzzy inside once again.

“- Who would be delighted to know that we have a presentation that counts for half of the final note to do before the end of the month ?

- When you put it this way… But I was not really talking about that.”

You sighed as you stood up, checking the time because you had to join Lia and Yeji at your favourite café soon. 

“- I know Jake. I have to go but I’ll text you later to let you know when I am free so we can start to work on that. Bye.”

Jake stood there, mouth slightly open as if he wanted to add something but couldn’t with how fast you left. All this made him wonder if he read the signs wrong or not. He didn’t imagine the way you were often staring at him. He didn’t miss the few times your eyes flicked down to his lips when he was talking to you. He didn’t imagine the way you were shivering every time he touched you, intentionally or not. He didn’t miss how you were always smiling when he was teasing you, even if you tried to look annoyed. 

Or was it only pretending ? Jake didn’t know anymore. But you were not the type of girl to do that, right ? He watched you from afar since he saw you for the first time in this science class, noticing how kind you were with everyone, how funny you were, how pretty you looked, and he also noted how many boys tried to hit on you, and how many of them you sent away. 

That was why he approached you as a friend. Because at least, even if he didn’t succeed in charming you, you could be friends. And it worked until now, you were getting closer and he even saw you blush one or two times when he made a flirty joke. So he didn’t understand why you were like that today. Maybe it was only a bad day for you, you seemed off and didn’t participate as much as usual. It should be that, yeah. That, or Jake was a total fool. 

“- You know the rules Y/N ! You’re late, you pay !”

You sighed but got your wallet out. You were rarely late anyway, so it was not often that you had to pay for the three of you. Your two friends had already ordered your favourite drink and you made your way to the counter to pay before returning to your table and finally relaxing for the first time since you woke up. 

“- You seem exhausted today.”

You nodded at Lia’s word, taking a sip of your caramel latte before answering her indirect question. 

“- I am. I’ve been running all day ! I was late to my first class because my bus times changed and I didn’t know, so I had to wait for the next one and you know Mr Kim, he hates it when we are late and he literally humiliated me in front of the whole class. Then, I realized that I had forgotten the assignment that I had to hand back for one of my lectures, so I had to rush home to get it on my lunch time and couldn’t eat. And the cherry on top is that Mr Lee paired me up with Jake Sim for our next presentation.

- Wow ! That’s a lot, my dear !”

You nodded again, leaning against Yeji’s shoulder to seek some affection and comfort. 

“- Well, all that sucks, but I don’t see how having to spend more time with your crush can be a bad thing ?

- It’s not ! That’s the worst part, I think that he thinks that I don’t want to work with him because I was so dry when I talked to him today, and he looked like a kicked puppy and now I feel guilty.”

Lia reached over to stroke your arm and try to make you feel a little bit better. She knew that you could spiral about the smallest thing you were saying or doing sometimes, overthinking every interaction you had with other people.

“- Just apologize next time, and that should be good. This is nothing that you can’t fix.

- Why are you always right ?”

The blonde shrugged before taking a sip of her own drink, while Yeji led the conversation to how her own day went. But you couldn’t stop thinking about how Jake’s smile fell when he sensed that you were not as enthusiastic as him to work together. You took your phone out, opting to send him a text now, even if you knew that he would not answer right away because he still had some other classes. 

you :  i am free this weekend and wednesday afternoon to work on the project. and sorry if i was too harsh earlier, i just had a really bad day, it was nothing against you. 

You shut off your phone, not expecting a notification to light up the screen just seconds after your last message, trying to hold back a smile from stretching your lips. 

jakey :  this weekend seems good, but i’m going back to my parents so we’ll have to facetime 😉 don’t worry about that pretty, i figured it was not me you were mad at i’m here if you need to talk. you :  i’m good now, but thank you, you’re sweet i’m staying here so call me when you have a moment. and stop texting while you’re in class, idiot !

As he answered you again just to tease you, the weight on your chest flew away. Jake really was a sweet guy, you just couldn’t believe that he was interested in you. He was popular around the campus, whether because of all the rumors about him - mostly false, but they were spreading fast - or because he was incredibly handsome, and a lot of girls were after him, numerous of whom were prettier than you. That was why you had so much trouble understanding why he chose to text you so much. It was not like you to doubt yourself like that, but for some reason, Jake was making you really nervous. Maybe because it was the first time in a while you were really interested in somebody, past just physical attraction, and you didn’t want to fuck it up. 

You read Jake's last text again, the one in which he was telling you that he was going to call you in five minutes, just the time for him to gather all the things he needed to work, and you couldn’t stop biting your nails. There was no logical reason for you to be so stressed out about facetiming with him, especially since it was only to talk about a school project, but you were. You checked your appearance in the little mirror above your desk one more time, but didn’t really get the time to fix your hair, your phone ringing straddling you as you picked up the call immediately, setting up the device against your laptop so it would stay in place without you needing to hold it. 

“- Hi pretty !

- Hi Jake, how you doing ?”

You tried to ease your mind by making small talk with him, but you were distracted every now and then by how veiny his hands were, or by how comfortable his thigh looked to sit on, pressing your own together to stop the warmth spreading in your lower half. It was really not the moment to think about that, even if it was not the first time nor would it be the last. 

“- Did you have an idea of how we could talk about this in an original way ? Because I’m warning you, I don’t want this to be only a boring, classical presentation.”

Jake's deep voice as he chuckled sent your mind to other places you shouldn’t go while working on a science group project. 

“- I should have known you’ll be like this. I’ll send you the research I’ve done so far and you tell me if you see something interesting.”

This was enough to get you to concentrate back on what you had to do, and as soon as you chose your angle, you started to work properly, sometimes making comments that made the other laugh. However, Jake was not able to focus on the article in front of him, too immersed in the contemplation of your figure to get anything done. 

Why did you have to wear this fucking top ? The straps wouldn’t stop falling off from your shoulders, showing a little more skin of your cleavage everytime it did, before you’ll put them in place again. And he could see that you were not wearing a bra, your nipples poking through the material of your top, allowing him to think about how much he wanted to see you naked, how much he wished he could touch them, lick them, suck on them. Your hair were put up in a messy ponytail, and with your glasses on and the serious look on your face, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to fuck you from behind for some obscure reasons. 

And well, it seemed like he got a little too entranced by his own thoughts because Jake could feel his cock twitch in his pants. Swearing under his breath, he turned around in his desk chair to grab a pillow from his bed and put it on his lap. He didn’t want you to notice that he was hard, the risk being that you would take him for a pervert, which he maybe was but he didn’t want you to think that of him. He was trying to be the perfect, sweet guy. He wanted to take you on proper dates, and offer you flowers before initiating anything sexual between the two of you, even if it was you he saw every time he was jerking off, even if he sometimes had to go to the bathroom after your shared classes because the vision of your thighs in a skirt was enough to make him pop a boner. 

Sadly, the shuffling sounds he made while reaching for his pillow intrigued you enough for you to lift your head and look what Jake was doing, seeing him quickly put the cushion on his lap before going back to taking notes about the article. You weren’t thinking about something naughty for once, only up to tease him a little bit. 

“- What’s with the pillow ? Are you hard or something ?”

Your smirk widened when you saw his ears grow red. It was the first time you were witnessing a blushing Jake, and well, the view was interesting and too funny to let it slide. 

“- Don’t tell me you really are ?”

Jake didn’t dare to look at you anymore, his gaze lost in contemplating one of the posters on his walls, so much more interesting right ? How could he explain himself to you without saying anything disrespectful, because the thoughts he was having just before weren’t really ones a well-mannered and polite guy should have. All he wanted right now was to be swallowed by the floor and bury himself six feet under.  

“- What were you thinking about ? Me ?”

At the way Jake lowered his head even more, you figured that it was, in fact, you that got him hard. And what was supposed to be a silly little joke turned into a whole lot more. The way your laugh died in your throat when you realized made Jake feel even more nervous that he had really made you uncomfortable and that you wouldn’t want to see his face ever again. 

“- I-I am really sorry… Please, don’t think that I'm a creep Y/N ! It’s just… Fuck ! You’re just so hot with your glasses, and your top won’t stop showing your skin, and that’s so embarrassing but it turns me on how smart you are and you explain to me all these things like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever come across.”

You couldn’t believe what you just heard, and it was apparently showing as Jake spared you a glance and turned away immediately, groaning about how stupid he was, and that you could insult him as much as you wanted if it made you feel better. 

“- Jake, just stop and look at me.”

It took some seconds for him to do so. It was a good thing you didn’t decide to end the call and your friendship with him already, he was not going to talk again and push his luck. When his eyes finally landed on you, he gulped loudly, trying to stop himself from getting turned on even more by the intense look you gave him. 

“- Show me. 

- W-What !?

- Show me what I do to you. And maybe I’ll show you what you’re doing to me.”

It was Jake's turn to not believe his ears. He must have looked so dumb, with his mouth hanging open and blinking repeatedly without saying anything because you chuckled cutely at him, pushing your chair back a little. And this time, when you let the straps of your top fall down, it was done on purpose, encouraging Jake to throw away that damn pillow and allow you to take in the appealing view of his boner. He was wearing these grey sweatpants again, and you couldn’t help licking your lips when you imagined how big his dick would be. 

“- I wanna see more, this is not enough for me to forgive you.”

Even if his heart was about to burst out of his chest, a little smirk started to spread on his face. He wasn’t in a position to negotiate, but he liked the game you were leading him into. And your wish was his command. Without a word, Jake got rid of his shirt, throwing the piece of clothing away before looking back at you, happy to find you biting your lips while checking him out. 

“- Like what you see ?

- Don’t be so cocky, you still have to make it up to me.

- And what do you want, pretty ?”

You pretended to think about it, using it as an excuse to drool over his abs a little longer. Because yeah, Jake was insanely hot, and even if you didn’t want him to see how affected you were, your drenched panties should be enough of a clue. 

“- I want to see you jerk off for me. And I want you to tell me all the things you’ve been thinking about doing to me.”

Jake immediately stood up from his desk chair, throwing his sweatpants and boxer away while a quiet “fuck” fell from his lips, bringing a smirk to your face. This was getting way more interesting than science. When he sat down again, you only needed to tilt your head to the side for him to start stroking his cock slowly, releasing a sigh that had you pressing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure you felt building up. Your eyes couldn’t leave his hard dick, wondering about how good he would fill you up, how good he would feel inside of you. 

“- So ? Aren’t you going to say anything ?”

The sound of his hand around his cock was starting to resonate in his room, spreading his pre-cum onto his shaft and going faster. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about you wanting to know his fantasies about yourself, sitting there so prettily but still fully clothed, while he was jerking off for your eyes only. 

“- I-I thought a lot about… About fucking you, especially when you’re wearing these damn skirts.

- What about my skirts ? Don’t you like them ?”

If he wasn’t already blushing, he was definitely right now, not only because of his confession, but mostly because your pouty lips had him thinking about sliding his cock between them and he felt close to cumming already just because of this, just because you were playing with him and he loved it a little too much.

“- Fuck ! I do, I do, but they make me want to eat you out so bad, you have no idea how hard it is to sit next to you when you have them on.”

Jake closed his eyes for a few seconds, missing your proud smile as you watched his face scrunch up in pleasure. Since he did nothing but listen to you – and make you even more wet –  you decided to reward him by removing your tank top, letting him finally see your breast. 

“- You’re so hot Y/N… I wanna touch you…

- But you’ll just have to watch for now, okay ?”

For now ? Jake didn’t want to dig on what you meant, too entranced by the sight of your hands coming up to play with your nipples like he dreamt about doing, forcing another moan out of his mouth. How bad he wished he was the one massaging your boobs right now, how bad he wanted them in his mouth and your hands tugging on his hair. 

“- I want to see more of you, pretty, please…”

Your eyes shifted from his dick to his face, your mouth watering at his fucked out look zeroing on your hands on your chest and fingers pinching your nipples. But hearing Jake beg for you was too pleasing, you needed more of his pleas, more of his airy moans. It was like a drug you were slowly becoming addicted to. 

“- Beg some more, and I’ll think about it. 

- Please Y/N, please, it’s not fair, I want to see your pussy, been dreaming about it, please.”

The fact that he didn’t even hesitate before doing it made your head spin with want, clouding your mind with lust as you got rid of your clothes too and sat down in front of the camera again. 

“- Shit ! You’re so fucking hot pretty, making me want to fuck you so bad. 

- I really wished you were here Jake, wished you could be the one touching me like that.”

As you were talking, you spread your legs for him, your feet sitting on your desk so he had a full view of your soaked pussy and your little fingers playing with your clit. 

“- Is it enough for you ? Or do you want even more ?”

The way Jake’s tongue poked out of his mouth to lick his lips had you thinking back to him eating you out, and how good that would feel. A soft whimper escaped you when you slipped two fingers into your hole, too excited to wait for his answer. The way he was lazily stroking his cock was driving you insane, and you didn’t care if you looked desperate for him anymore, because you were and all you wanted was him right now. 

“- Would feel so much better if it was your fingers…  

- You don’t know how much I want that… You’re so wet, you’re dripping everywhere baby, fuck ! I want to lick your pretty cunt so bad….”

Another moan rolled off your tongue, closing your eyes for a second before opening them again because you didn’t want to miss the show Jake was putting on for you, his hand moving way faster now that he got to witness your naked body and the sinful vision you offered him. Your fingers couldn’t reach that spot you knew he could have, knew that his long hands would be perfect for you. 

“- You want that pretty ? Want me to eat your pussy ? 

- Oh god, yes ! Please Jake, I need it, I need you…”

The way you were saying his name, full of lust and desire, had him coming close to the edge already. He wished he was with you right now, wished he could hear you scream it again and again, wished you would beg him more and more. 

“- I need you too, need you to sit on my cock and ride me.”

He was sitting in the perfect position for you to do just that, and the image wouldn’t leave your mind. You abandoned your nipple to play with your clit, your thighs shaking as you approached your climax. 

“- I’m so close, feels so good… 

- Me too… Cum for me Y/N.”

This was all you needed for your orgasm to wash over you, clenching so hard around your fingers you could barely move them anymore, circling your clit until it felt too much. Jake had to bite his lips and quickly remind himself that he was not home alone to hold himself back from releasing a litany of filthy moans as he spilled all over his abs, covering them in his release that you wanted to lick off from his body so badly. 

During a moment, the only sound was the one of your heavy breathing, trying to get a hold of what just happened. As you were about to say something, a knock against your door interrupted your thoughts, eyes widening in surprise. You rushed to end the call with Jake, not even taking the time for a goodbye before dressing up quickly and trying to not look like you just had the best orgasm of your life as you opened the door of your bedroom. 

“- Are you alright ? I thought I heard you scream…”

You smiled innocently at your Yeji, hoping that she would not interrogate you further because your legs were still weak and trembling and your face was obviously flushed.

“- Oh, yeah, I just hit my toes against the bed, that’s why.”

Luckily, she seemed to accept your excuse and you plopped down on your bed after closing the door behind you. What the fuck just happened ? Did you really have sex over a facetime with Jake ? It was usually something you dreamt about but that never occurred in real life. But with the way he was blowing up your phone, there was no way this was not true. 

If you thought that this would ease the tension between the two of you, you were definitely wrong. Because when you saw each other for the first time after this one call, you felt ten times more attracted to him than before, almost getting wet just seeing him smirk at you as you entered the classroom. Sure, you had texted each other during the week, but neither one of you dared to address the subject directly, too embarrassed and afraid that it would ruin everything. 

But you couldn’t lie : you wore the shortest skirt you owned today on purpose, only because you wanted a reaction out of him. And a reaction you got. As soon as Jake took in your entire outfit, his gaze darkened, mouth opening just enough for his tongue to dart out and lick his lips as if he wanted to devour you. If you weren’t wet already, now, your panties were definitely soaked with the way he was eying you up and down. 

“- Hi Jake ! How was your weekend ? Must have been great to see your parents.”

He didn’t expect you to strike up such a casual conversation with him, but his mind was already far away, staring at the way your skirt rode up your thighs when you sat down, revealing even more of your skin. Jake had to turn his gaze away from you for a few moments to focus back on how to form sentences and answer you. 

“- It was cool, yeah. And how was yours ? Did you have fun ?

- Actually, it was very fun. Something interesting happened.”

The grin stretching out your lips didn’t go unnoticed, Jake’s eyes zeroing on them and wishing he could kiss you right now, wishing he could have you grinding down on his lap and making out with him. He was snapped out of his daydreaming when Mr.Lee entered the classroom loudly, as usual. 

“- Hello everyone ! Today you’re gonna work on your projects, and I’ll come see where all of you are so I can help you if you need it.”

Working together turned out to be way more complicated than you thought it would. Jake wouldn’t stop subtly caressing your arms or your hands, coming way more closer to you than necessary when you had something to show him, his thigh pressed against yours underneath the table. But two could play a game, right ? Too bad you dropped your pen on the floor and had to get up to pick it up. Too bad your skirt was so short that when you bent over, Jake could catch a glimpse of your panties. Too bad the hand you landed on his thigh to get his attention was so close to his crotch. 

By the end of the class, you were just dying to come back home and relieve the unbearable heat you were feeling, almost squirming in your chair. If he had you wrecked with only that, you didn’t dare to think of how good he would actually be able to ruin you. But what was infuriating was how he didn’t even seem to be affected by the whole situation, despite his leg bouncing up and down, and his lips swollen from biting them. Still, you wanted to get back at him. After all, it was his fault if your call took another turn, and it was his fault your panties were ruined right now. 

With how fast you escaped the classroom, Jake didn’t expect you to ask him to meet up, especially in an area he knew was unknown by most students. His body was tingling in anticipation, wondering what you were going to do next. Maybe he loved this little game too much, and maybe it was risky because he almost popped a boner in class, but it was worth it if it was for you. 

“- What do you want pretty ?

- Give me your hand.”

You could see that he was confused, but he did what you asked nevertheless, so you could place something in his palm, closing his fingers around what seemed to be a piece of fabric, which was a little damp. 

“- You feel how wet you made me ? This is what you do to me Jake. Now, enjoy your next classes.”

He watched you go away, definitely hard this time when he realized you really gave him your panties, and that the material was, in fact, soaked in your juices. Behind you, you heard him swear loudly and rush to his class to not be late, a smirk spreading on your lips. It was his turn to suffer a little. 

Jake didn’t even take the time to greet his roommate when he came home, tracing a beeline to his room and locking the door before he dropped his bag on the floor. He got out your panties that were stuffed in his pocket, the fabric still a little wet. You were the reason he didn’t pay attention to his last class of the day, not able to understand a single thing his professor was saying. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to jerk off with them, couldn’t stop thinking of you going home with nothing underneath your skirt. 

That was enough to make him hard all over again. Quickly, Jake got rid of his jeans and underwear, laying down on his bed with a hand already wrapped around his painfully hard dick. Without an ounce of shame, he lifted your panties to his nose, inhaling your scent and immediately moaning. He was already addicted to this, to you, to the way you were playing with him. 

Jake could already feel his tip leaking pre-cum, and he knew that he was not going to last long, especially after you had edged him all day. It was as if he could still feel your hand on his thigh, too close to his crotch for his sanity. And every time you touched his arm to have his attention, it was like your fingers were leaving a trail of fire behind them, a shiver running down his spine every time your warmth left him. 

The smell of your juices was driving him insane, sticking his tongue out to lick it off the material. He sped up his movements unconsciously, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, incapable of holding back his moans anymore. He didn’t care if Jay could hear him or not, he didn’t care if what he was doing was disgusting, if he was a creep for loving it all. You already tasted like heaven like this, and he knew that as soon as you’d let him go down on you for real, he would never want to pull out from your pussy ever again. 

Once he could taste nothing but his own saliva that had completely drenched your panties, he wrapped it around his cock, the friction feeling so much better than his own hands, but not coming close to what yours would feel, he knew it. His mind couldn’t stop drifting away to a sick scenario in which you were watching him do all that, in which you were telling him how disgusting he was, in which he was begging for you to touch him. The thought was enough to push him over the edge, moaning your name loudly as he came all over this stomach and your panties. 

“- Fuck…”

Without a second thought, he reached for his pants on the floor, getting his phone out to take a picture of the mess he had made. The material was still wrapped around his cock, making sure you had a great view of his abs covered in his cum and his tip still leaking. As soon as he hit “send”, Jake plopped down on the sheets again, closing his eyes for a while. He knew he had to get up, take a shower and do his homework, but the only thing plaguing his mind was you. Only you. 

Of course, the teasing didn’t stop there, neither of you being able to stop. You had sexted each other during classes, not paying any attention to the actual lesson, too busy telling the other the dirtiest things. It felt even better when Jake did it during your science class, blowing up your phone with messages filled with praises of how gorgeous you looked today, of how your outfit was suiting you perfectly, of how much he wished he could fuck you on your desk right now, of how much he just wanted to get out of here and show you how good he could make you feel. 

You had not given up on your skirts and dresses, which were getting shorter and tighter as time went on. And Jake had not given up on putting his hand on your thigh, which was getting closer and closer to your core everytime you were sitting side by side. The flirting comments he whispered in your ears got more and more unhinged, and the pictures you sent to him got more and more revealing. Jake had started to save them in a locked file, but always making sure to send something back so it was fair - and not at all because he loved the idea of you drooling over his body, or touching yourself while looking at his nudes. 

And even if Jake loved the game, he couldn’t wait for the moment he would finally have you. Because he was so close to breaking down the act when you sent him an audio message of you moaning his name, going on and on about how much you wished he was with you right now, about how much you needed him. It was late at night, and Jake was ready to go to sleep, but he was quick to slip his hand in his underwear, jerking off to the sound of your whines and begs that he listened to on repeat from this moment on. And he was seeing so clearly the sinful image of you fingering yourself that hadn’t left his mind since this video call, the same image that was imprinted in his memories. 

He was almost ready to go out at 1am and come to your apartment, but he was too tired and mostly, he wanted to win, even if it was pointless because he knew that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. So he settled on sending you a video just when he was coming, while telling you how bad he wished you could be riding him right now, how bad he wished he could fill you up with his cum. And you replied with a close up of your wet pussy that ended up in his locked file. 

It was also very fun to talk casually in front of everyone else, as if Jake wasn’t fucking you with his eyes, as if you hadn’t sent him another filthy text last night where you were calling him your good boy. The sexual tension between you and Jake was so high that neither Yeji or Jay could even bear to look your way without being disgusted - their words, not yours. And the way you were both always smiling, giggling and blushing everytime the other sent you something had your two friends desesperate for you to finally fuck each other and stop flirting in front of them - again, their exact words. You knew Yeji was happy for you and just liked to tease, but you were just as eager as her to get laid. 

But you will not be the one to give up. You wanted Jake to surrender before you did. Why ? Just because it was much more fun that way. Hence why you were standing so close to Jungwon. And Jake was clearly not having it, watching the two of you from his seat in the classroom, jaw clenched and gaze burning a hole in your friend’s back. The way you were touching his arm and laughing at his jokes shouldn’t have made him jealous. After all, you were not his, you were not his girlfriend, and he didn’t even kiss you yet. But still, it didn’t stop him from wanting to swat Jungwon away from you when he hugged you. 

Your innocent smile as you sat next to him and asked him how his day went so far did not help. He could see right through you, could see that you did that on purpose. And this time, it worked. Jake didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want this to stop, but he had to do it or he would go insane. While you were cautiously taking notes, he took his phone out, accustomed to texting you during class by now. During a little break, you looked at your phone and grinned seeing a new message from Jake, asking you to join him in the same corridor you gave him your panties a few weeks before. You had to bite your lips to not let a big smile invade your whole face, because you knew very well what it meant, your body tingling with excitement. 

At this point, Jake had no self control anymore. All he wanted was you. All he needed was you. And he was not going to survive if he didn’t actually have you in the next few minutes. However, a small part of him was anxious, overwhelming him with the doubt that maybe, just maybe, you really only wanted the game, and not him. He should have heard your footsteps resonating in the empty hallway, but he was into his thoughts and only did acknowledge your presence when you came into his view, not letting him utter a word before you grabbed him by his jacket and kissed him. His brain stopped working, wide eyed and not moving until you let him go. 

“- Are you okay ?”

Jake shook his head at you, before reaching to grab your waist, pushing you against the nearest wall, lips only inches away from yours. 

“- No… You’ve been driving me crazy since the first day Y/N, I want you.

- Then take me.”

That was all he needed to lean in and kiss you again, harder, messier as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You moaned against his lips, tugging him closer to you by his jacket and he took the hint, pushing his body impossibly close to yours. The way he was kissing you, as if he had an insatiable hunger for you, had you wet in seconds, and you could feel his boner pressing against your thigh, an obvious proof that you were just as desperate for this to happen. 

Neither one of you was thinking about the fact that you were in a hallway, and that anyone could walk in on you, heavily making out. It didn’t matter to Jake, too lost in the taste of your lips and tongue against his to care about anything else. He finally had you all for himself, finally had you where he wanted, finally had a taste of you. And he already knew that he was going to get addicted, that he wouldn’t want anyone after you because it was like you were made for him. Eventually, you needed to breathe and had to detach yourself from his lips, Jake chasing yours and letting a quiet whine escape him when you started to grind your hips against his. 

“- Fuck… Do you feel how bad I need you pretty ?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself with making sentences, not when he was holding your gaze and all you could see in his eyes was lust and desire. This look alone made you want to drop on your knees for him right now, and the way he started to pepper your neck with his kisses didn’t help either, taking a hold of his hair and moving faster against him. 

“- I need you too Jake… Need you to use me…

- Don’t say that if you don’t want to get fucked for everyone to see.”

His voice had dropped lower, his hot breath fanning against the skin of your neck where you knew for sure he had already left some hickeys. And he didn’t feel guilty at all. He wanted everyone to know you were his, even if you technically weren’t. Jake knew that if he didn’t leave now, he would never have the strength to do so. 

“- I have to go pretty…

- I know…”

You knew but you kissed him again anyway, hoping that the taste of his lips against yours would linger for as long as possible. When Jake finally had the courage to stop you, he was already ten minutes late for his next class and cock hard as a rock in his pants, but who cared if he got to have you all needy and desperate for him - as if he wasn’t just as needy and desperate for you. 

“- Come over at mine tonight, okay ? I’ll kick Jay out, and I’ll be all yours pretty.

- Okay, text me later ?

- I will.”

Jake pressed one last kiss on your forehead before he started to run for his class, praying that it would be enough for him to calm down and stop thinking about all the things he was going to do to you. 

Jake was probably more nervous right now than he had ever been in his entire life, and he had had many situations to be anxious about. However, the fact that you were going to come over in less than five minutes made his palms sweat and his heart beat faster. He didn’t really know why he was feeling so panicked, because you obviously showed him on numerous occasions how much you were yearning for him too, there was no way you would stand him. But if he did something wrong ? If it was not what you had expected and you decided that you didn’t want to see him again after that ? 

This last idea in particular was running in his head. Because he didn’t want to have you just for one night, he didn’t want to fuck you and then let you walk away as if he wasn’t crazy over you, as if you didn’t make him feel shy everytime you smiled at him. But the more he was thinking about it, the more his heart ached at the scenario. So he stuck to trying to distract himself on his phone until you arrived. 

He didn’t really do anything in particular, didn’t litter the whole place with rose petals and candles, but everything was cleaned perfectly and he even cooked so you had something to eat if you happened to be hungry. It was strange to be suddenly so anxious about meeting up with you. Because he was not nervous when he texted you all his fantasies about you, he was not nervous when he sent you pics and videos of his dick, he was not even nervous when he made out with you in this corridor later. But now, he could feel his hands shaking as he tried his best to open the door for you without looking like a complete idiot. But how was he supposed to stay calm and collected when you were standing at his door, wearing a little black dress that took his breath away. 

“- Are you going to let me in or not ?”

Jake finally snapped out of his haze hearing your teasing tone, and he had to mentally restrain himself from letting his eyes wander all around your silhouette. And immediately, he forgot all about being anxious, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you inside, closing the door and pushing you against it quickly. Your whole body felt on fire from his hands on your waist alone. 

“- I’ve waited so long for this, pretty, wanted you since the first day.”

Your own hands came to play with his hair, bringing his face closer to yours, grinning as he tried to focus on your eyes and lips at the same time. 

“- Yeah ? Wanna show me how much ? 

- I’m going to make you feel so good, make you scream my name for all the neighbors to hear.”

You licked your lips, your gaze locking with each other. Slowly, Jake’s face got closer to yours, one of his hands leaving your waist to rest on your cheek, tilting your head up so he could kiss you. He wanted all this to be perfect, wanted to take his time with you, wanted to hold you close to him and satisfy every one of your needs. But as soon as he got another taste of you, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more, all the teasing from these past months reaching its climax as he devoured you, his tongue passionately dancing with yours. 

You couldn’t hide anymore the effect he had on you, the slightest brush of his thigh against yours having you sighing in his mouth. But you needed more, needed to feel more of him, more of his skin against yours. That was why you let your hands drop from his neck to the hem of his shirt, sliding your fingers underneath the material, finally able to touch the beautiful abs you could only see in pictures and videos. 

Jake’s eyes landed on the hickeys he left earlier, smirking at the fact that your dress didn’t hide them at all. And he made it his mission to cover the other side of your neck as well, his kisses trailing from the corner of your mouth, along your jawline and finally landing on the sensitive skin that he immediately started licking and nipping at. He was used to hearing your little whimpers of pleasure, but it was even more addicting to hear them when he was the one provoking them, even better when he could feel your hands tugging on his hair, even better when he could grip your ass at the same time. 

“- Jake… I need you…

- Mh ? But you have me pretty…”

You could feel his grin against the skin of your neck as he kept sucking on it, his hand slipping underneath your dress to feel your bare skin. He could be as cocky as he wanted, in the end he was getting even more hard just by kneading at the plush flesh of your thighs. And you knew that, and you wouldn’t let his arrogance be. One of your hands came up to grab his jaw, forcing him to look you in the eyes while the other slid down to his crotch, squeezing his hard on enough for Jake to let out a gasp of both surprise and pleasure. 

“- Don’t get so confident baby, you know how good I am at edging you and you don’t want that now, do you ?

- No…”

His voice was barely above a whisper, lips parted, breathing heavily and eyes wide open. You were sometimes getting more assertive in your texts, but to really experience it was different. He loved when you were begging him, but if you wanted him to play in your fantasy and dominate him, you could bet that he would be the best sub ever. 

“- Good boy. Take me to your room.”

That was all Jake needed to carry you through his apartment, managing to get to his bed while kissing you again, and again, and again. He laid you down on his sheets, unaware of how hot you thought he was for being able to do that so effortlessly. You wanted to get on top of him and worship him all night. But for now, you simply watched him discarding his shirt and sweatpants on the floor, biting your lips at the sight.

“- Come here.”

And he did it, caging you in with his arms before going back to kissing you while you let your hands roam around his body, touching up every inch of skin you could reach - his back, his arms, his abs, everything. You needed to have his skin against yours, to really feel him. His own fingers were sliding underneath your dress, caressing your thighs, your ass, your lower back. But all these clothes were getting annoying, he wanted to see you, have your whole body in display for his gaze only. He needed to see in person what you had shown him so many times in pictures and videos. 

“- Can I take these off ?”

You simply nodded, a sigh of relief coming out of your mouth when Jake helped you get rid of everything you were wearing, starting from your jacket that you didn’t even have the time to discard because he immediately jumped on you. Then, he threw away your little boots and your socks, and finally your dress, revealing the black, laced lingerie set you had on. Another smirk played on your lips when you saw shock as well as lust play in his eyes. 

“- You like it ?”

His hands were almost shaking as he put them back on your body, grazing the skin with his fingers slowly. If he liked it ? He could feel his cock twitching at the view alone. You were like a sinful goddess, and you were here for him only, sprawled out on his bed, waiting for him to make you feel good. 

“- Fuck, yes, you’re so hot pretty… Can I touch you ?”

You smiled at him, finding his carefulness even more attractive. As an answer, you took his hands in your own, guiding them to your breast, letting him massage it over your bra as he looked at you like you casted a spell on him. And truth be told, you might have done just that because he soon found himself unable to keep his hands for himself. In the span of a few seconds, Jake had pushed your boobs out of the coffin of your bra, his lips coming down to play with one of your nipples while his fingers were giving attention to the other. 

Your hands quickly came back down to grab his hair, whines leaving your mouth every time his own closed around your nipple. Your mind was already clouded with pleasure and desire, having waited for too long for exactly that to happen, and you didn’t have any patience left : you wanted his cock, and you wanted it now. In one swift movement - and because Jake didn’t expect you to do that - you managed to get him on his back where you were laying seconds before, straddling his lap. Immediately, he found your waist again, his big hands tugging you closer to his cock, where he needed you.

“- If you wanted to be on top, you could’ve just said that, princess.”

You wanted to kiss that stupid, proud grin out of his face, but instead you decided to strip him from his underwear, finally getting to see his cock for real. And it was even more pretty, even more bigger, even more perfect for you. 

“- I just need your cock, I don’t care how, I just need it.”

How eager you were to touch him too had Jake groaning and releasing a moan as soon as you started to stroke his cock. He loved the fact that you simply took what you wanted from him, and he was ready to let you use him in any way you wished if that made you happy. However, all the times he imagined how your hand would feel around his dick couldn’t compare to how it really was, to how good it really was. 

“- Do whatever you want to me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice to lower your head and be at the same level as his cock, sticking out your tongue immediately and coming to lick his flushed tip. The sight was unholy, tempting him to push the rest of his shaft in between your lips right now. Jake couldn’t even recall all the times he closed his eyes and thought about your mouth closing around his dick instead of his hands. And now you were really there, spitting on it and spreading your saliva before taking him in your mouth. 

He couldn’t help but throw his head back, his hands coming down to take a hold of your hair, following the movement of your head. The feeling of having you suck his dick couldn’t compare to anything he had fantasized about before. And if you weren’t so busy trying to fit his big cock in your throat, you would have teased him because he looked so fucked out already and you hadn’t done anything yet. Little by little, you managed to fit all of him down your throat, and the moan he let out at you hollowing your cheeks, making you even more wet if possible. 

“- Fuck ! Your mouth feels so warm, so good…”

Even when you started to bob your head up and down, he didn’t look down at your face, but you wanted his full attention, wanted to see him lose all his composure. Your hands were resting against his thighs, and you started to graze his skin with your nails, effectively getting him to open his eyes and focus on you again. Another moan left his lips just from seeing you like this.

“- Please, don’t stop…”

And you didn’t, feeling his grip on your hair tightening as you took him all the way down once more. If Jake wasn’t trying to not lose his mind over how well you were taking him, he would have loved to wipe the smug expression out of your face. But for now, all he could do was moan and whine and look at you through hooded eyes, loving how much of a mess you were, with a mix of saliva and pre-cum dribbling from the corner of your lips. He couldn’t resist anymore the urge to thrust his cock up in your mouth, closing his eyes again at the feeling of your tight throat around him.

“- Wanna cum in your mouth so bad pretty, can I ? Please, please, let me…”

You hummed in agreement, far too fucked out yourself to do anything else than taking what he was giving to you. At this point, he was simply using you for his own pleasure but you just let him because you loved it, loved how he claimed you by ruining your throat. 

“- Shit Y/N ! Gonna fill you up, yeah ?”

A moan escaped you, the vibration sending Jake over the edge, his hips halting their movement, buried deep inside of your warm mouth and spilling his load right there, your eyes watering as you tried to swallow it all. Jake felt on cloud nine, and he knew that he would not need anyone else for the rest of his life because you were definitely made for him, perfect for him. You got one second to breathe when Jake pulled on your hair, taking you away from his cock and bringing you up to his lips, kissing you deeply and tasting himself on your tongue, loving the nasty mix of both your saliva and his cum. When he finally let you go, you couldn’t help but zeroing again on his red, swollen lips that he was biting while looking intently at you.

“- You did so well for me, pretty, such a good girl.”

His forehead was pressed against yours, cupping your face, thumbs whipping away the tears who had rolled down your cheeks. You felt even more turned on by how thoughtful he was, by his praises, by his sweet gestures despite being so rough with you.

“- Need you Jake…

- Want me to return the favor ?

- Yes, please…”

You felt so desperate for any kind of touch, your body tingling with anticipation as Jake switched position and laid you down on the bed again. He’ll get you to sit on his face another time, when his mind will be clear enough, when he’ll have the patience and self control to make you cum at least two times. He quickly got rid of your bra, even if you looked heavenly in them. But the sight of your naked body was even more appealing. Soon, his hands were all over you again, roaming around your skin and making you shiver. His lips found purchase on your neck again, littering it with more of his kisses and marks. 

“- Don’t tease, please, I want you so bad…”

A single swear escaped Jake’s lips as he helped you out of your panties, bringing them to his nose and making a show out of sniffing them and groaning at the intoxicating scent, allowing you to picture how he looked when he had jerked off with your ruined underwear. Then, he threw them away somewhere in his room, not caring where it landed and grabbing you by your thighs to bring you close to his face, holding them wide open for him. The view of your bare and wet pussy had him getting hard all over again. 

“- Such a pretty cunt baby, bet you taste just as sweet.”

His praises had you shying away from his dark gaze, but you were not able to hold back your little whimpers. Jake chuckled lightly before diving straight into your wet folds, having had enough of teasing you when he was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel him. The second he licked up your wetness, it was over for him. He could be as cocky as he wanted but not when he felt his cock throbbing only at the taste of your pussy, not when you were invading all his senses as he buried his face between your plush thighs, sucking harshly on your clit. 

Every moan that came out of your lips only spurred him on to continue, to go harder. When he felt you squirming around, he made sure to grip your thighs and keep them in place for him to have better access to your cunt. The way his skillful tongue was taking turns between playing with your clit, licking up your folds and going inside had you losing your mind already, both hands coming down to tug on his hair as if you wanted to keep him there forever. 

“- Fuck ! Jake…”

He opened his eyes again at hearing your cries of his name, diving in your lustful gaze. Your parted lips allowed you to whine out everytime his mouth was on you, your cheeks were dusted pink because of the unbearable heat of your body and your hair was a tangled mess, thanks to Jake’s hands earlier. But to him, you never looked better, an heavenly sight for only him to witness. 

“- Feels good pretty ?”

You nodded along, a quiet whimper echoing through the room at the loss of contact with his wet muscle. 

“- Yes ! Yes, so good…”

Jake knew that, but to hear you say it had a smirk playing on his lips, and you couldn’t even be mad about it because he was looking insanely hot doing it. You could feel the pad of his fingers creeping up the skin between your knees and hips, so slowly it made shivers come alive on your whole body. And when he was almost touching your wet folds, he started all over again with your other leg, this time going as far as debuting at your ankle, and coming up even more lazily. 

“- Please…

- Please what, pretty ?

- You know what I’m talking about !”

Your pouting face was too cute for Jake to not want to tease you more. He loved it when you made him go crazy, loved when you were getting him hard in the most inappropriate situations because you sent him a picture of your boobs. But it was also enjoyable to have you in the palm of his hand, dying for him to touch you. He rested his hands on the insides of your thighs, so close to where you needed him and yet so far away. 

“- Hum, I don’t think so baby, you need to use your words if you want something.”

The grin on his face got even wider when he witnessed the way your hole clenched around nothing at his demanding tone, at his deep, low voice. He suspected that you had a thing for it since you were always biting your lips when he facetimed you early in the morning or late at night with his hoarse voice. 

“- Come on, don’t get shy on me now, you told me a lot more worse before.”

You did. You definitely did with all the filthy texts you exchanged, and all the photos, videos and audios you sent, and your panties which were still sitting in one of his drawers like the ultimate proof of how naughty you were. 

“- Want your fingers…

- Here we go. That wasn't so difficult, princess, was it ?”

You shook your head no as Jake dived back into your cunt, his lips finding their spot back on your clit, while his hand finally reached your wet folds. His touch was as light as a feather, but still enough to tear a noise out of you, still enough to make you crave more. All it took was a slight tug on the strands of hair you were still gripping and suddenly, you could feel one of his fingers entering you slowly, so as to not hurt you. 

“- Good ?”

You nodded energetically, releasing a sigh of relief to have something filling your empty pussy, and you didn’t even need to tell Jake for him to understand that you wanted more, inserting another finger while still playing with your clit with his tongue. And when he started to pump his fingers in and out, you knew that you wouldn’t last long, especially not when he seemed to have figured out exactly how to make you lose your mind. You couldn't stop the noises from coming out of your mouth anymore, pushing Jake's head even closer to your core if that was even possible, grinding on his face as pleasure coursed through your veins and the knot in your stomach snapped. 

Your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and you almost didn't feel his gentle kisses on your inner thighs to help you come down off your high. What you did feel though was him pulling out his fingers and bringing them to your lips. He smiled sweetly at your obedience, watching you through his lashes as you opened your mouth and let him bury them inside, even moaning around his fingers just like you did around his dick.  

“- So good for me, fuck, you're so pretty…”

He wanted to lick off your lips the string of saliva connecting them to his fingers, wanted to make out with you and your pussy for the rest of his life. Silence came back in his room, only broken by your heavy breathings, looking into each other's eyes as if you could read your minds. 

“- You’re gonna fuck me or not ?”

Your teasing smirk and the challenging tone of your voice brought a grin on his face, which widened at the strangled moan you let out when he grabbed your hips and forced you to turn around, getting you on your knees, ass up and pushing your head down his pillow. He was doing with his hands everything he did with his words : ordering you around, telling you how to place the camera so he had the best view of your dripping cunt, not letting you cum before he did. Without letting you have any more time to think, Jake was pushing the tip of his cock between your folds, sliding right in with how wet you were. You couldn’t see him from your position, but you could hear his deep groan as you clenched around him. 

“- All you need is a little bit of dick to shut your big mouth uh ?”

You wanted to protest, to say no, to answer something that would have made him shut up, but all that came out of your lips was a cry of his name as he thrusted all the way in. If he wasn’t holding your hips up, you would’ve collapsed, overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure in your body at feeling so full suddenly. 

“- Yeah, that’s it, just a slut who needs to be fucked.”

As much as Jake wanted to sound composed, his voice was shaking, and the moan that left him just after was really far from composed. The feeling of your tight, warm, velvety walls had him wondering why he waited so long before fucking you because it had to be what heaven felt like. Slowly, he pulled his cock out, only to thrust back inside roughly, the sound of your whimpers mingling with his deep groans. 

“- Fuck ! You’re perfect for my cock, pretty little pussy.”

At this point, you could only whine in his pillow, mumbling on and on about how good he felt, about how you had wanted this for so long. And Jake wanted to be cocky about it, wanted to tease you for being so desperate for his cock, but he wasn’t doing any better, barely resisting the urge of painting your walls white on the spot. You had told him so many times over text and even during your calls how much you wanted him to fuck you raw, how much you needed him to fill you up to the brim, it was the only thing he could think about right now. 

“- You want me to fill you up with my cum ? Is that what you want ?”

You moaned in response, your brain too mushy to think about anything else than the way the tip of his cock was hitting your sweet spot over and over. But that didn’t seem to satisfy him as he pulled on your hair, yanking your head back. Another noise fell out of your lips at his rough actions and you could feel the smirk on his lips when they brushed against your ear while he was talking. 

“- Words pretty.

- Yes, fuck ! I want your cum Jake, want it all, please !”

- Such a good little slut, shit !”

You felt your eyes watering again with the increasing speed of Jake’s thrusts, the rush of pleasure through your body too good to resist anymore. Your orgasm washed over you before you could even register it, leaving you a moaning and incoherent mess in his hold. The feeling of your cunt getting even more tight was enough for Jake to cum too, spilling his load inside of you with a throaty groan. 

You were tired, but still, the tingling sensation in your core was there. You wanted more of his cock, more of his moans, more of his hands on you, more of him. A quiet whine fell from your lips when Jake started kissing your back up and down, his hands caressing your hips to soothe the skin he had marked. And you knew all of this was supposed to be sweet and caring, but all it did was turn you on even more, your cunt squeezing his cock that was still buried inside. You felt some of his cum spilling out and sliding down your thighs, followed closely by a swear from Jake.

“- You’re getting me hard again pretty…”

You turned your head to look at him, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy, lips swollen and red from his kisses, and hair a mess because of his hands. And Jake could swear it was the most divine you’ve ever looked - when he had just ruined you.

“- Let me ride you then. 

- Fuck, yes.”

You chuckled at his eagerness when he pulled out from your leaking cunt, trying not to drool at the sight as he plopped down on his bed, grabbing your thighs and bringing you on his lap. But you couldn’t really make fun of him when you had dreamt about this for just as long. You traced along the marks that already started to blossom on his skin, grinning proudly at your work and loving how sensitive Jake was, taking a deep breath as you took his cock in your hand, brushing the tip against your entrance. 

“- Y/N… Please…”

The way the word came so easily to him paired with his whine of your name convinced you to not make him wait any longer and to sink on his dick instead, both of you moaning at the feeling. It felt so much deeper this way, and you knew only from the photos that he was big, but you were only acknowledging just how much now. 

“- Feels so good Jake, love your big cock…”

He desperately wanted to answer something, wanted to tell you how delicious you were, but you took his breath away when you started rocking your hips back and forth. And suddenly, the only thing he was able to think about was you. His hands were on your waist, but he didn’t have enough consciousness left to even help you bounce up and down, simply staring at you, mesmerized. 

A flood of dirty words was coming out of your mouth, praising him and his dick, telling him how good he felt, how handsome he was. And Jake loved the attention, loved to feel your hands dangerously close to his neck, close enough for him to want your fingers wrapped around his throat, close enough for you to purposely restrict his breathing a little without really choking him. Only the squelching of your mixed juices and the ones of your cries of pleasure could be heard in the room, both of you too fucked out to care about anything else than your release. 

“- Can I cum inside again, pretty, please ? Please, let me…

- Yes, want it so bad !”

Jake closed his eyes as he felt his orgasm approaching, lifting his hips to meet your thrusts. He was only able to do it a few times before his cock twitched, cumming deep inside. He kept you down on his lap until he felt on the verge of passing out. The erotic moans and whimpers he let out triggered your own climax, and everything was even more intense because of the slight overstimulation. You grinned your hips against him a few more times before your arms and legs gave out and you collapsed on top of him, his arms immediately wrapping around your sweaty body. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, and you were almost ready to fall asleep when Jake moved you off of him and stood up. You whined and grabbed him by his wrist, trying to pull him back to the bed with you. 

“- I’m just going to take something to clean us up pretty, I’ll be quick, promise.”

Jake smiled fondly at your pouty lips before kissing them and running to the bathroom to find a towel. He rapidly cleaned your skin, delicately whipping it down and handed you one of his shirts to cover up when he saw you shiver. He discarded the towel on the floor, not having the energy to do anything else than going to sleep with you in his arms right now. He slipped under the covers after having put on some shorts. 

You directly snuggled up to him, hiding your face in his neck and breathing his scent in. And Jake couldn’t help the big smile stretching out his lips when he tightened his hold around your waist and distinctly heard you hum against his skin.

“- Y/N ?”

You lifted your head when he broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, taking in his soft smile, his shiny eyes and his disheveled hairs. Maybe he had looked more put together before, but to you, he was the most beautiful like this. 

“- Will you be my girlfriend ?”

And you couldn’t help but reciprocate his smile and shake your head. Sometimes, he was very silly. Sometimes, he could be considered childish. But he was able to bring back sunshine when your days were filled with gray clouds, and he could make you laugh anytime you felt down. Your hands came up to cup his face, delicately brushing your thumbs against his cheekbones. 

“- You know, you’re very charming Jake Sim, it’s hard to resist you.”

This time, it was him who hid in your neck, holding you even tighter if it was possible. And you giggled heartedly, a sound that Jake would never get sick of hearing. And maybe he had lost your game, but he had won something even more precious. 

BONUS : 

You picked up your phone when getting out of the store, holding a little plastic bag with everything you needed to cook a delicious breakfast for you and Jake. Speaking of whom, you had a bunch of messages from him, asking where you were, and if you had ran away. Texts saying how sorry he was if he was too pushy last night, that he would let you as much time as you wanted if it was what you needed. And endless apologies, over and over. You only answered with a quick message letting him know that you would be back quickly.

Meanwhile, Jake was really panicking. When he woke up and felt the space beside him empty and that your clothes weren’t littering the floor of his bedroom anymore, all remnants of sleepiness left his body, immediately looking around the apartment to see if you were anywhere. It was stupid, he knew it, if you had left, it was certainly for a good reason, but he couldn’t help asking himself if maybe you had come to the conclusion that you didn’t want to be with him. He sat down on one of the kitchen stools, biting his nails while waiting for you to say something else but you didn’t, and stress took over him again. 

When you pushed the door open, you were only met with Jake's worried look waiting for you in the kitchen. He was only wearing the same pair of gray sweatpants as last night and you couldn’t stop your mind from going back to how good it all felt, but the object of your fantasies stopped your thoughts from going too far.

“- Where were you !? 

- I was at the store down the street, to buy us breakfast.”

You lifted your bag and dropped it on the kitchen counter before making your way over to Jake until you could run your fingers through his hair. The hands of the boy came up to rest on your waist, only noticing now that you were wearing his clothes, his heart beating faster at the view. 

“- Didn’t you see my note ?”

You looked around and saw that it was still where you had left it, immediately showing it to Jake who was getting more and more embarrassed for getting so worked up over something so stupid. 

“- I’m sorry, I just thought that maybe you didn’t mean what you said last night and that you realized that this morning and decided to leave…”

Jake hesitantly looked up at your face to find you smiling fondly at him. You leaned down to place a kiss on his lips, and another one, and another one, until you had peppered his whole face with kisses and made him giggle shyly.

“- You’re an idiot if you think you’re going to get away from me so easily, I’m not letting you go. 

- Good, because I don’t want you to.”

-> i don't allow any copies, translations or reposts of my post.

-> moon dividers by @samspenandsword

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