#people want answers and at the same time don't

[1864reruns]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ monster trio & kissing

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

includingㅤ━ㅤmonkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, sanji vinsmoke

tag(s)&warning(s). drabbles, gn! reader, sfw, fluff?, what constitutes as fluff idk girl, established relationship w/ zoro and sanji, luffy is a secret third thing i guess?, stray 'kms' threat in sanji's part

from vyon. big up to alex turner and no. 1 party anthem; luffy's is marginally longer because he's my most specialiest boy and he deserves special treatment and i struggled way too hard with characterising sanji in a relationship aside from all the embarrassing simping stuff, he's just amazingly pathetic, i don't wna talk about it, the main star here is luffy

like a lot of other things, kissing comes easy to luffy. though he's never had any couples around him as he grew up, he's been on enough adventures to catch a number of couples share a few quick pecks here and there. sabo's once mentioned kissing as well— a sort of distant memory that comes back when your lips first land on his cheek on your supposed first date. it might be sabo's fault, or his parents, that luffy believes kissing to be bleugh before he's tried it. though in sabo's defence, there wasn't a child in the world that would want to see their parents kissing. still, it isn't as bad as sabo made it out to be, luffy thinks as his wide–eyed gaze follows you back onto the sunny. there's something in the shape of your lips sunburnt onto his cheek, crisp just underneath the scar he'd gotten as a child.

the old scar is a smudge between a burning hypersensitivity and a cold unfeeling stretch of skin; your lips brush against the scar and it tingles itself into simultaneous death and rebirth. burning, melting— luffy presses a hand against his cheek and feels full. then his lips pull into a grin and the burn of your lips spreads out, pushing through every fold of skin as his hand reaches out for the sunny and he flings himself into the air, allowing the feeling to crawl through sinew.

luffy is no stranger to touching— he does it in painstaking excess, but there's a childhood teaching in him that kissing is not the same as touching. he stares at nami for a while, wondering if the instinct to feel her is the same as it is for you; she gets annoyed by his unwavering stare and swats at his head. he decides it's a no.

kissing is meant to be con... consumption? conservative— constellation? no, it's one of those 'c' words that he doesn't really remember, but he knows that he's supposed to ask you if you want him to kiss you. he doesn't understand the idea of waiting for permission but he'd really hate it if you were grossed out, like ace once told him would happen if kissing happened unconventionally(?) (that's not right he thinks), so he asks you one day.

as simple as he gets, luffy comes up to you and asks. "do you want me to kiss you?"

you splutter in shock and you hear movements on the deck still. luffy thinks he'd maybe forgotten something that the people in foosa village taught him but he waits for you to answer anyways. it doesn't come because sanji is aiming a kick at his head and shouting at him about the delicate intricacies of romance and courting. through all the dizzying flips of colour as he jumped away from sanji's attack, a kaleidoscope of the things he loves the most (the sea, his ship, his crew) in his eyes, he sees the hesitant embarrassment that colours your cheeks in. the burn that you've placed in him sparking up a fuse between the two of you at the slip of his tongue against gums and he laughs, swinging away and crash landing on whatever usopp was building out of sticks.

you return to him at a more private time, slip up next to him wordlessly— he doesn't say anything so you fear that he'd forgotten.

"do you still mean it?" your shoulder knocks against his.

"mean what?"

you turn to look at him, your eyes flickering down. "when you asked if i wanted you to kiss me."

that gets his attention, his head turns to you with a flexibility only he has— his eyes blinking at you carefully. "i did, did you make up your mind?" his lips pulled up into a grin, "you want me to kiss you now?"

you wish he had a less abrasive way of asking, but the answer is the same regardless. you nod and luffy takes.

you're not sure what you're expecting at this point. you know how luffy is about psychical touch, he's no stranger to it— everything he's ever known, he's ran his hands over. the amount of times you've been knocked down to his reckless habit of flinging himself into your back, you expect the same thing here.

luffy inspects you for a moment, the corners of his lips pulling down before twitching into a pout, "it's not gonna hurt, silly, why'd you look like that?" he shifts his body to face yours, his knees knocking against yours as he pushes his face closer.

then, his lips stretch outwards— his damn devil fruit— and it's so comical how his puckered lips pulled towards you to press gently against your cheek that you're laughing when it snaps back into place. luffy laughs along with you for a moment. a gooey comfort strained inside of you, your hands pressed against his cheeks— you find a simple joy in pulling his face, and then you find a better joy in leaning yourself closer to press your lips against his.

you're giving so luffy takes. he shifts onto his knees for better leverage to lean into you— the movements are stiff and careless. he's less kissing you and more just pushing his face into yours but you can feel the strain of his smile against your lips so no matter. being luffy, he pushes and he pushes greedily until your hands move from his face to the deck to keep yourself from falling.

it's so stupid how, even though this sucks, you want to make an occupation of kissing him.

it becomes a habit for him to kiss you no matter how far away you are by taking advantage of his devil fruit. eventually, he does get better; you realise why after a pointed comment from robin that hints to the fact that he'd asked her for kissing tips.

zoro is all lingering touch, heated spaces, and fizzling affection. it's not often that he gives you the pleasure of being skin close with him— not that you mind. he's eye candy enough, grunting and sweating in a handstand with barbells methodically placed on his feet and boxes of miscellaneous supplies for added weight. he's never been the type to need the world in his life; everything he's done has always been to prove a sick something to himself, to his strength.

his devotion is similar. there's no place for prying eyes in your relationship when there's you, the fulfilling adoration, and zoro. sometimes, there is also his swords and other times, there is an overwhelming luffy (who knows no boundaries).

he's always more forgiving with you, but he draws the line at excessive pda and you respect that boundary. fleeting contact has never been zoro's strong suit, he's an all or nothing soldier so when it comes to kissing, he likes the ready privacy that allows him to indulge. so he ignores the pointed staring, how you've made yourself comfortable on the benches in the crow's nest; your body sprawled out following the curve of the seats as your face turns red from how you have your head hanging off the cushioned planks.

he grunted, turning his head back down to the floor before he loses his balance.

you start counting, "one, two, three." he's well past those measly numbers but he lets you do as you please. "four, five, one, three, sixty–five, twelve, two, negative five, twenty, fourteen, nine—"

he folds his legs down against his chest, letting the weights fall to the floor with a thud. "alright," he straightened up, "you've made your point." an unimpressed look crosses his face.

your lips curled up into a grin and then you pull yourself up, throwing his towel at him. he takes the hit to the face and presses his hand over the fabric to wipe away the sweat and falls next to you, sliding his body down for his head to lay on your thigh.

"ewwww," your face scrunched up, "you're sticking to me." his hair is clinging to his forehead, interrupted strokes of green paint against his temple.

"shut it."

a laugh is quiet on your lips as zoro falls into the comfort of the moment, his eye closing. you trace over his face and then you crane yourself down, ignoring the ache in your spine and neck, your lips fall onto his forehead, "one." you counted. then onto the space between his furrowed brows, "two," his nose, "three". over his eye, "four." you pull back just in time to feel his lashes scratch over your lips.

a heavy judgement in his eye, stern and serious— he curls an arm up to press against your nape and pulls you down. there's a weight that's tethering you to the moment in the curves of his arm and a light–headedness that makes the stillness burst at the seams as zoro ignites everything alive. it's a slow and careful thing, how his head rises to meets yours and then how it tilts so he can slide his lips onto yours.

his arm drags across your neck until you feel moisture in the contour of his calloused hand, fingers pushes into your hair as zoro leans back from your lips, humming. "five." he says, a whisper of a smirk on his lips. a flicker of tender violence in how he fists your hair at its base and pulls your head back to give himself access to your neck. all or nothing, you're reminded, he drags this kind of simple affection into long, several moments.

he continues counting, picking up where you left off until you both hear luffy calling for zoro to help him fish and your relationship mellows back down, protected in loud secrecy.

there's always a strange line to tread when it comes to sharing intimacy with sanji. he's the quickest to melt when it's passing pecks, a second touch of your chapped lips against his cheek.

it depends on the atmosphere of the moment. just as quick as you can puppeteer him to pliant stuttering, sanji is more than capable of wearing you down to your barest core with his appreciative methodical gestures.

what everyone else is most familiar with are the fast moments of sanji softening when you offhandedly touch him. a simple smile on your lips as he gracefully sets your plate down in front of you, ease in the way your head turns to face him and you give his cheek a grateful peck, a quick kiss against his lips when you're splitting ways upon docking on a new island. it's enough of a spectacle that luffy makes the same laughing racket when you kiss sanji casually to see him twirl with new founded energy and hearts in his eyes; that zoro has a trademarked insult ready on his lips whenever it happens; that nami owns a jar that sanji has to put money into whenever he starts his weird dance.

it's almost easy to forget how sanji reciprocates. love has always been a second language to him— it's burrowed in his every unhurried moment when cooking, it's a burn that drove an abscess in him when he was younger, it's straightened postures and the clean lines of his stature for every perverted thought that plagues him. his every move carries an echo, a drumming confession that rings i love you, i love you, i love you until the words are bleeding raw into each other and you feel undeserving in his passion that stinks of cigarette smoke.

the disturbance of the lit end against a clear canvas of blue skies, his arms folded over the handrails of the sunny, the strokes of grey smoke that taints the pristine clouds that rest languidly; a rigid lock on his features until you're brought to his attention with your shoes clicking against the deck. his face shifts into something more delicate— full of feeling that's different from his usual excitable manner.

"bad for you," you begin with a light–hearted scold, plucking the cigarette away from his lips. he turns to you, his back against the handrails.

his restless hands search for touch and find an answering comfort on your skin, turning up and down over the shape of your hips until his thumbs dig into the waistband of your bottoms. "don't," he pleads, "you know it kills me when you're disappointed."

your lips turn upwards, "should i cry?"

"please." his voice wavers between a weak warning and aching desperation as his head falls onto your shoulder, pulling you closer.

the smell of smoke is cauterised into his skin— you don't mind it and you don't mind him smoking, but you think it's funny to act like you do if it has sanji like this. his hair scratches against your skin, tickling an itch he'd placed in you long ago and you thread your straying hand into the strands as his fingers press demandingly into your hips. following your motion, sanji turns his head to look up at you.

a furrow in his brows and a plea in his eyes.

"you know i'm teasing," you lean down, pressing a kiss against his lips as an attempt to appease him, "but you know i'll have to kill myself if chopper comes and redirects his disappointment at me again." you sigh, weary at just the topic. "i mean seriously, he looks at me like i'm the one shoving cigarettes into your mouth and forcing you to inhale."

sanji tries to focus on your words but your lips have left him cold when you pull away; suddenly, being skin to skin isn't enough and he's trying to placate the greed that is curdling inside of him. it works for the better half of a second, his thumbs pull out of your waistband and his arms wrapped around you, one around your waist and the other dressed against your back.

he ducks his head down and settles his craving.

sanji is gentle all around, careful to make even his affections palatable. he starts slow, testing waters that he's skinny dipped in previously and when he finds no rejection, he moves in deeper. he's a lifelong hunger that can never hope to be satiated when close to you, unwavering in a promise that has wedding bells ringing deep in your bones.

there's a new memory of a life he wishes for you, brought to life and fed by the taste of you. for now, he has to pull away as the ship rocks into a tempestuous sea and panicked feet disrupt the echo of the bells. nami starts to shout orders. he pulls away. his heart stutters in time with the unpredictable storm. sanji trips over his feet on his way to pull up the sails and he starts twirling when it makes you laugh.

[fx1600]

To everyone in the comments saying "UuUUuum actually it's because tiktok will take down/suppress your views!" Genuinely shut up everyone fucking knows WHY people are doing it. But that doesn't make up for the fact that instead of using the million other euphemisms that already exist for these things that still take them seriously "Took his own life" "In a better place now" "lost his battle with" "touched with out consent" "harassed" "didn't take no for an answer" "x rated movies" "adult films" These are the same thing of avoiding saying the words directly but you know what the difference is? THEY STILL TAKE THE SUBJECT SERIOUSLY! They still add gravity to the situation!

Unlike some random person using stupid ass nonsense baby words which are typically used NOT just to avoid censors but to avoid FEELING BAD! Talking about this stuff in complete seriousness gives people bad icky feelings that they don't want to dissect so you know what's easier?? Using words like "grape" so people can completely remove themselves from the gravity of what happened and not feel bad while wanting to listen to these topics. AND THAT'S NOT GOOD YOU NEED TO HAVE AND DEAL WITH THOSE ICKY FEELINGS OTHER WISE YOU ARE SAYING THAT SOMEONE ELSES TRAUMA SHOULDN'T BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY SO YOU CAN LISTEN TO IT EASIER WITHOUT HAVING TO ACTUALLY DIGEST IT

THAT SOMEONE ELSES TRAUMA NEEDS TO BE FILTERED AND ALTERED INTO SOMETHING EASIER FOR YOU TO LISTEN TO IN YOUR FREE TIME SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

”pdf file” “unalived” “grape” “corn” what if i killed myself right here right now

[3amfanfiction]

You wrote this about Simon: “At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.”

I’d LOVE to read more of this - i wanna be the one to offer him the soft touch he wants so badly, maaaan! He’s just so big n’ strong but i want to let him curl up against me while i pet him until he stops shivering

This came through at the perfect time. I had the desire to write but I was picking at all my wips half heartedly bc none of the them were what I wanted.

But this? This I wanted.

So thank you again and please enjoy 1.5k words of acclimatizing Simon to soft touches.

<33

Ask referencing this post.

~~~~

He scared you, the first time you saw him.

Not because of how big he was (tall, thick, muscular) or the look in his eyes (cold, dismissive, too watchful), not even because of the scars themselves (numerous, expansive, tragic).

It was because you knew any interaction would come across as a threat. He had that look in his eyes that said he'd seen the worst of what the world had to offer and he persisted through luck and spite equally. Now he was sat in front of you, too disciplined to let his skin shiver but hating being seen. Hating that you were looking.

When you met him it was through a friend of a friend sort of thing. One of your friends was seeing a Scottish boy and invited you out for drinks with them. You had no reason to say no so you found yourself sitting at a high-top doing your best not to bother the man sitting quietly to your right.

His gruff, Simon, during introductions was the only thing he had said in the last hour, content to sit quietly and watch. Almost outside of the group even though he was sitting at the same table. You made sure to include him when you were speaking to the group, your eyes darting to each person as you spoke, not leaving anyone out. But you made sure to never direct a hard question at him that required an answer. It was all, I bet you never have a problem seeing over the crowd. or I'll grab everyone a drink while I'm up or Sorry, I'll be out of your space in a moment, my jacket was getting a little warm.

He would look at you. Every time you spoke to him he wouldn't shy away from eye contact but that was where his involvement ended. Never a head nod or shake, never a verbal answer.

By the end of the night you were positive he didn't like you. He didn't dis-like you but he didn't like you, you were pretty sure. That was okay though. You'd done your best not to infringe on his space, not wanting to step on his toes. You thought you had done a good job all around and put it out of your mind, the interaction over and done with and no longer needing to be reviewed.

What you never realized was Simon's shoulders lowered a whole inch throughout the course of the night.

\\\

You called your friend out on the number of times she invited you to hang out with Johnny and Simon, flat out asking if she and Johnny were trying to set you and Simon up through subtle double-dating.

"No!" She leaned forward grabbing your hand, her eyes looking earnestly into yours, "I promise it's not like that. Johnny told me he's pretty much all Simon has. Well, their team is. So they're always together when they're home. I don't want Simon to feel like a third wheel or left out or anything."

And you believed her. This was one of her strong suits, always looking out for others. That's probably why you two got along so well, a pair of givers, the both of you. And she had a point. The idea of Simon sitting awkwardly with the other two as his only companions made something twist in your stomach. You didn't want that for him.

So you kept seeing Simon and you kept doing your best to give him space but include him at the same time. You were shocked the first day he spoke to you but the fact that it was a bad joke made a sort of perfect sense.

"What's the best way to carve wood?"

You looked over at him in shock that this was what he chose to break the ice with. At the same time you were delighted and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of Simon telling you a joke. A bad one by the sound of it.

"How?"

"Whittle by whittle."

"That was absolutely terrible."

He smiled to himself if his eye crinkles had anything to say about it. That giddy feeling bubbling up inside you was getting unsettlingly big right about now. You looked at the ground and bit your lip to keep from a cheesy grin of your own breaking out.

Before you knew it he had no problem speaking to you. While never particularly verbose, he would respond to comments directed towards him, offer his opinion if options were offered, and kept telling awful jokes.

You were hopelessly charmed.

You broke your own rules and reached for him first.

You were sat next to him on a bench, the sun setting and the evening air cooling further. He had told you another one of his god-awful jokes when you unthinkingly swatted out with your hand, brushing his arm. His muscles jumped and his arm tensed right before you made contact as if bracing for a hit. An involuntary reaction to someone reaching for him. It was a horrifying realization.

You sobered quickly and your chuckle died off awkwardly. You turned to face forward, looking out at the street, watching for any sign of your friend or Johnny who had stepped into the store for a quick moment leaving you and Simon to find a bench while you waited. You hoped that if you didn't draw attention to it then your faux pas would pass unmentioned.

You let out a relieved sigh when Simon continued with another comment, not taking your overstepping to heart. By the time the other two had rejoined you the whole situation was forgotten, water under the bridge. You didn't think of it again until it was the end of the night with everyone about to go their separate ways.

When you said goodbye to Simon he said it back, reaching out to brush his hand down your arm in return in almost the exact same spot as where you'd touched him earlier.

Your heart skipped a beat before picking up a double pace. You couldn't help but beam at him, a wide grin splitting your face even as he grunted and turned away, likely embarrassed by your show of emotion.

Today had been a good day after all.

You thought you had ruined it for a moment there, thankful when Simon seemed to brush past it. You hadn't expected him to reciprocate in the same manner though.

Maybe he really did like hanging out with you. You never doubted it for a second.

\\\

It took time–a slow steady build to where you ended up, curled up on the couch together with Simon laying on top of you. You both had your tops off to bask in a little skin-to-skin time.

You'd been together for a few months at this point and it was like night and day to compare him to the Simon you met all that time ago. This one couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. It was a slow warm-up to get past his walls in a way that wasn't upsetting to either of you. Soft touches that slowly built, leading to hand holding, to hugging, to kissing, to this.

You dragged your fingers slowly up his back, fingertips catching on raised scar tissue before continuing on, ever moving. He hummed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his face when you switched from fingertips to nails, gently scratching the skin.

You loved spending time like this, feeling Simon melt into you, eager for every touch he could get. If you were sitting still and Simon was in the vicinity you could bet that he would be pressed against your side before too much time had passed. Eager for the soft caresses you always had for him.

He was starved for touch and you wanted to feed him.

So you offered, again and again in the beginning–most times with no luck, to let him touch you. On the couch watching TV? Your arms would open, inviting a hug when he walked by. At the table? Your head was tilting up for a kiss if he wanted one. Passing each other in the hallway? You'd raise your hand and hold it in front of you, letting him press his big barrel chest into your palm if he wanted.

It was a slow acclimatization that brought you to today and the taste was all the sweeter for the time you had poured into it.

You lifted a hand to drag it through the spiky hairs at the back of his head, enjoying his groan of contentment. It sounded like he was already halfway asleep and you knew you wouldn't be leaving this spot for a while.

Might as well settle in and get comfortable. You familiarized him to gentle touches, now he was insatiable for them. He would be consuming them from you greedily for as long as you offered.

[cuntdevil]

★ PRETTY BROWN EYES !

he hoped to swoon you with his gorgeous brown eyes and bright personality ─── never mind the fact that he has a girlfriend.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, takuma ino, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 5,017 words !

╰┈➤ takuma ino & shy student!reader, college!au, infidelity, virgin!reader, yapper!takuma ino, corruption kink, slight public groping, car sex, fingering, unprotected sex, pussyjob, creampie, momentary cockwarming, etc.

( anonymous said . . . ) okay, so i was wondering if you could write for takuma ino. the idea was that reader was a shy new student and he immediately becomes obsessed and wants to be with her, but he's currently in a relationship . . . smut with corruption, loss of virginity trope, and some angst . . .

╰┈➤ author's response: i've never written for takuma before so please don't shoot me if you don't feel like the characterization is correct. i was trying to go with possessive while trying to feign like he was a good guy. hopefully you like it because it was a lot of fun writing this fic!

Men are such easy creatures that it’s no wonder that they’re closely compared to animals when it comes to their instincts. A woman can be nice to them once and they’ll take it as a sign that they’re flirting when it can be the very opposite. Takuma always thought of himself as a better man, but he’s proven wrong when you call for attention. Your shadow shields him from the bright lights within the large room, where you didn’t say much to him at all. In a soft voice that barely raised above a whisper, you simply asked, “Is anyone sitting here?” 

He could tell that you were a timid thing, just by the way you instinctively crossed your arms, waiting for him to answer. He thought he was a better man for always being respectful, abiding by people’s boundaries and giving women their space. He was a sweet thing and according to his girlfriend, he could make any girl swoon with his pretty brown eyes. Boyish features that are so adorably hot that he could bag any woman he wanted— according to his girlfriend. And he never took her seriously, fanning off her words, but here he is right now, wondering if he could potentially “bag” you. And he should feel guilty, he really should, but he wants to take it as a conquest now. His curiosity gets the best of him as he asks himself, could he? 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you until you feel a sense of discomfort, squirming at his wandering eyes. “I’ll just— I’ll just go find another seat…”

“Wait! My seat’s—” he blurts in an effort to call out for you, but you ignore him and try to find the next open seat with someone else. He curses under his breath, the professor walking through the door and asking everyone to get in their seats. Takuma slouches as he frowns, his bottom lip jutting out as he spins back in the swivel chair as he opens up his iPad. He knew what his girlfriend said was too bullshit to be true. 

The next time Takuma sees you is at the courtyard. He was supposed to be meeting up with his girlfriend for a study session as they share a few classes together under the same major, but you had completely shifted his train of thought that he made a bee line straight towards you instead. Sliding into the vacant seat across from you, he drags your attention away from your laptop and the tupperware of sushi sitting next to it. Your curious eyes quickly turn to a grimace that you best tried to hide when you saw that it was Takuma. “...Hi?”

“Hi,” he responds back in a more chipper tone, though his insides said the very opposite as his heart panged against his chest. “I wanted to apologize about what happened the last time. I was being a creep.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected that, the apology catching you off guard that you didn’t know what to say, but when do you ever? He stared at you with those brown eyes. He was cute, you can’t help but admit, but there’s still something unsettling about him. You’re not quite sure if that’s your anxiety talking or just how he shamelessly sat across you, startling your peace. He had good intentions, though, so you tried your best to not put too much thought into it. At the fact that he has yet to leave, you expect that he’s waiting for your forgiveness. “It’s okay.”

However, to your dismay, he’s getting himself comfortable at your self-acclaimed table for the time being, loosening one of the straps over his shoulder as he slings his backpack onto his lap and unzipping it. He asked no questions on your preference, just making himself comfortable as he pulled out his laptop and set it open on the table. His eyes glancing over at you periodically. “Hey, what’s your major? I don’t really recognize you… but then, this is a large campus, so maybe we’re just running into each other this year.”

Should I answer him? The question rang inside your head over and over, a heavy rise in your chest coming to stand as you felt at a loss of breath. He was only trying to be nice, you figured. And it didn’t hurt to be nice back, your inner monologue reminding you. “I’m a… transfer student.”

His eyes brightened at that, eyebrows rising at the newfound information. “A transfer student, oh really?”

He went on like that for the next hour until you saw a figure coming in your direction. A girl with shoulder-length hair that shimmered from a black to a blue. Piercing brown eyes that seemed deadlier than Medusa the moment they landed on her boyfriend before her eyes found yours. They shone of unfamiliarity before they sparked to anger, her perfectly threaded eyebrows knitted together before stomping towards the both of you. “Ino, what are you doing here?”

Face contorting into confusion, Takuma turns around in his seat. Having forgotten all about his girlfriend, he nearly jumps out of his seat at the sight of her. His first instinct is to reach for the phone, the quick glance leading him to curse. “Fuck. Kazua, I’m so sorry… I—”

“Don’t worry about it.” In a flash, the young man— Kazua— brushes her boyfriend off. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You could’ve sworn you heard her say, I probably wouldn’t have gotten a thing done with you there anyway. She shoots you a nasty glare as she storms away, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Takuma doesn’t hesitate to run after her, but his footsteps stagger as he takes a second to look back at you. His movement stops, where his feet shuffle and he’s unsure what to do. It takes him a moment to muster out a “sorry!” before rushing after the angered girl to explain his side of the story. Which turned out useless as Kazua had given Ino the silent treatment— this time, he’s not sure how long for.

Takuma realizes that he really doesn’t have much charm to him in ways that other men have. He learns this through every interaction that he has with you in comparison to every other guy that’s come to approach you. From what he sees, they’re flirting with you — your eyes would light up and you would smile politely as they slid in the seat next to you. They’d spark up a bit of conversation and actually get more than an ounce of words out of you. Every time he approaches you, there’s a grimace in your eyes. Or, maybe it’s all in his head. 

He never notices how you’ve come to make space for him when he approaches. Simply sliding in the seat across from you and talking your ear off. He doesn’t pay attention when you’re starting to pay a bit more attention, your hums of ‘mhm’ are soft, but still a tell-tale sign that you have been listening— that you are listening. And if he had been truly paying attention, he’d notice the small twinkle in your eyes whenever he’s near and the way your lips curve upwards when he says something interesting or humorous. He’s so caught up in his nerves that he’s blinded by anxiety.

It catches him off guard when he finds you perched at the far corner of the bar, barely noticeable if he hadn’t known you. A bar well-frequented by students of the university, Takuma liked to come here particularly after his Friday classes in the evenings to blow off a little steam. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, it was as if you had miraculously appeared there the moment his vision cleared. It was a perplexing sight because he’d never take you for someone to go to bars. However, there you sit, dressed in a spaghetti-strapped top and a denim skirt that falls a few inches below your ass. 

There’s a shred of confidence that rises within Takuma then as he walks up to you. And he falls into routine, grabbing the vacant stool right next to you. The legs scrape the ground and make you jump in fright. Turning your head, your glare quickly turns into a gaze of familiarity, smiling when you see Takuma. “Oh, hi!”

This time he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your gaze. Have you always been looking at him that way? 

Truthfully, while this had been a Friday night where he’d have come to the bar, he had another reason to be here. His girlfriend had finally messaged him, wanting to speak about things from their short break. And usually, when this arose, he wouldn’t hesitate to meet her here, but now that he was, he didn’t feel any hope in their relationship anymore. His phone buzzed in his back pocket, but he ignored its small tickle as he was completely transfixed on you. “I didn’t peg you as someone who goes to bars.”

“I’m not,” you admit. “But I needed to get out of my dorm room… and my roommate was having some guy over.”

Takuma laughs. “The roommate kicking you out sounds more like what happened.”

You nudge him, despite the bemusement in your eyes. From finding him to be a small nuisance to accepting and genuinely enjoying his presence, you’re grateful that Takuma had shown up tonight. You had felt so out of place and your drink tasted horrible. However, you didn’t want to ask for another and waste it. It wasn’t your first time at a bar, but your first time at one alone. While you were one who enjoyed solitude, the bar wasn’t one of those places where you typically sought it. You felt stupid for coming here. Now, Takuma washed away all of those nerves.

Time washed away to something nonexistent. Takuma had ordered you something that tasted sweeter, better than your other drink. He spoke up for you when you were afraid to do it for yourself, and as the night had gotten later, he had grown more handsy with you. A subtle shift in him that you left unquestioned when you felt his hand touch your thigh, him scooting a tad bit closer to you, his legs unparting yours. He continued talking to you, eyes never deterring away from yours and you couldn’t help yourself from the captivation they held. 

Was this what they called liquid courage? You asked yourself. You hadn’t had much of either drinks, an unfamiliarity swirling inside of you as you weren’t aware whether the attraction you felt towards him was genuine or what you���ve had to drink. These emotions had been sweltering inside of you for a while, but what makes now so different? Why does this patter in your heartbeat feel more distinct than the rest?

Is it the hand that continues to be so daring as he leans closer to you, invading your personal space? How he remains so nonchalant, continuously sporting that boyish charm he possesses while he talks to you. Your skirt’s risen up significantly from its original length, and the lights have dimmed to the point where no one can really detect his movement. They can’t really see how he’s gotten his hand slotted against your inner thigh, creeping closer to what he so desires right now. 

He’s stopped talking at some point, but you can’t tell when. Fingers prodding at your clothed pussy, running smooth and tandem circles right against your clit as he watches you try to keep your composure. Your posture’s become slumped, breath becoming more jagged when he applies more pressure. He has to hop down from the stool to pull yours closer, making the wood touch each other as he’s given you no time to react. Your heart simply races as you come to gasp. He tastes sweet, but you’re even sweeter. Sweeter than he’s imagined. 

Nights where he’s spent thinking about you instead of Kazua, concealing his moans and breathy grunts as his fist is wrapped around himself. Oh, how his cock leaked deplorably to the thought of you underneath him. How he’d love to be sheathed inside of your pussy for hours on end, rutting inside of you until your sweet cunt ached and only begged for him. The smell of him was so pungent that the next day, his roommate didn’t need to hear him to know what transpired during his slumber. 

You were such a cute and quiet little thing that managed to get him so worked up, that he wanted to do the same for you. He should’ve felt ashamed the moment the bartender had interrupted, asking the both of them to leave, the moment things became too obvious. His cheeks should’ve reddened like how grew flustered and didn’t want to look anyone in the face on your way out, but he felt so accomplished within himself that he couldn’t. 

You let him lead you to his car, the small silver automobile that was parked not too far from the entrance. His mind led him to contemplate, to wonder what he should do to you, where exactly should he bring you to, but the moment he heard the click of his doors open, he grabbed your hand and let his cock do the thinking for him. You landed on the leather seats with a thud and a yelp falling from your lips, Takuma hoisting you further inside by the hips as he didn’t hesitate to reattach his lips against you. 

Your skirt no longer covered your ass, hiked up so high that it was around your waist now, your bare legs ready for the taking. The heat of his hands travel up and down your thighs, your moans sounding in the car. The moment you feel his erection ground against your core does this all feel too real. Your breath quickens, but not in its haughty need but with anxiousness as a lump starts to form. Suddenly, you’re not kissing him anymore, finding the strength within you to push him off. It has him taken aback, pulling away in concern. That hunger slowly dissipates as he searches for the problem. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I—” You diverted eye contact, finding entertainment in the back of the front seats instead as you struggled to let your confession out. When you do, it’s below a whisper, hard for Takuma to hear with the sounds of the bustling night, but he catches it— “I’m a virgin.”

It should be shameful for the way he felt jovial at the confession. Something that felt so embarrassing for you to admit was something that ignited something deep inside of him. It made him realize that he truly was no better than any other man with the way his cock stirred and how suffocating the air felt even more for you. Those beautiful brown hues within his pupils pool with a darkness that’s so carnal that it has you shrinking within his hold. “Ta—Takuma?”

He snaps out of it, leaving that headspace and returning back to normal. He gets it now — why guys find it so hot to be with a virgin. That feeling of superiority and power over someone so innocent. Gosh, he should’ve expected it. Everything about you screams the word itself. He brings himself to smile, his pearly whites seeming to dazzle in the dim lights of the street lamps shining inside the vehicle windows. Your eyes— those pretty pretty eyes look up at him with concern, but his smile makes it all go away as he utters out, “That’s fine. I’ll take good care of you.”

His fingers are back to prodding at your panties, pretty pink cotton with a wet patch right at the center. He can feel your arousal bubble at every press of his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles and the infinity symbol into you. You’ve a God-given gift bestowed to him. A blessing you truly are to be splayed underneath for the taking. You moan, every action causing a reaction as you buck your hips, begging for more. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt and to his skin, tugging him closer to you. You can’t think straight. There’s an ache in your back, pressed deep against the leather of the seats and the tight space is all too much. 

When you imagined this moment, you never imagined it in the back seat of a car, but you want this. You’ve convinced yourself of this and so have those eyes of his. You feel no shame anymore when he parts your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb pushing deep against you. Your juices seep from you, coating his digit in your delicacy as he goes up and down, up and down, up and down. Your inner thighs quiver, the feeling of someone’s touch much better than your own. 

He’s gentle— for the most part. He’d nip at your pump bottom lips, making them swell when he sucks at it. He marks up your skin, creating deep and dark blotches on your flesh that are too high up to be hidden with a shirt. And now that his index and middle finger have entered the mix, teasing the entrance of your sweet cunt, he’s ready to bully your insides with them in his greedy attempts to take care of you. 

He tells you, “gotta stretch you out,” when you whine. When in truth, he’s gluttonous for the sounds that you make. How, your voice gets all high-pitched and your nails dig past the fabric and more into his skin that it’s enough to bruise. However, he’ll be bashful to wake up to them. 

“Ah, Takuma!” you cry out, back arching against the seats as your chest presses into his. Bottom lip still caged by him, he bites down harshly against them and causes you to mewl out in pain. Slowly do those moans become whimpers as he batters your poor pussy with his fingers and the gnawing of his teeth against your supple flesh. It feels like a mockery when he sees you crying, cooing at you ever-so-gently as he asks, “Aww, why are you crying? I’m giving you what your pussy needs.” 

He comes to kiss them away, detaching himself from your lips to taste the salt of your tears and further soothing you with gentle kisses that contrast the drilling of his fingers. He fucks you with those two simple digits, ignoring the way your legs would flex and contract, squirming against his hold. The discomfort of the car soon went on ignored from the immense amount of pleasure, your slick drooling down his fingers as they twisted and twirled inside of you. 

A euphoric dance the two of you partnered in. It never slows down until that knot inside your stomach starts to form, a twinkle of light sparking deep inside of you as your walls pulsate around Takuma and you’re stammering out on your words. “Ino, it feels s–so good… Please, I think ‘m about’ta—”

“Yeah, yeah…” he chuckles. “I know.”

You cream all over his fingers, your body instinctively rolling your hips in efforts to feel the way you do now. He finds you beautiful like this, face contorted in immense pleasure as you gasp out an ‘Oh.’ And fuck, it’s so hot how you paint his digits in a white, that he ruts against the car seat, bashfully tasting your release. His pupils dilate, humming in delight as he presses himself down further into the seats. You’re forced to watch in awe, not that you’re complaining, bucking your hips upward in a silent plea for more of Takuma.

“God, you’re just perfect, aren’t you?” he breathes, not wasting another second with his cock concealed in his jeans. Within the tight confines of the car, Takuma shimmies out of his pants, pulling his underwear down along with it. You’ve maneuvered yourself to lean against the car door, your elbows helping you hold your weight up as you watch Takuma’s cock spring free from the tight fixtures of his pants. It’s pretty, just like him— sporting an average length and exceeding in girth. His uncut tip leaks of arousal, twitching in the stuffy car air as it wants nothing more but to feel your tight walls cage him inside. 

He bet it's nothing like his girlfriend’s. He already knows that you’re sweeter than his girlfriend’s. Your moans are even prettier and more sultry than hers. Because you have something against her, an innocence that still ties you down. And unlike his girlfriend, he’ll be the first to break it. Kazua was always straightforward, never wanting to engage in any foreplay. Never would sex last long with her, but with you? He can take his time.

Precum continues to leak from him, his mushroom head glistening in his arousal as he spreads it. So sensitive from its neglect, he hisses when he touches it. His fingers cold as he wraps his fist around it, giving it a few pumps before hovering more over you. It’s dark outside, minus the street lamps illuminating its light inside of the car. Fortunately, no one has come to see them inside. Takuma can see how your pussy still shines from your orgasm, your pussy lips parted with your creamy essence as you occasionally clench around nothing. 

His thumb has become familiar with you, pressing into your hole and eliciting a twitch from your body. He grabs your leg, a hearty grip on it as he drags you down without warning. You squeal, heart racing as your head hits the leather. Your eyes widen as both of his hands meet your hips to make the both of you further connect. He’s got your legs wrapped around him as he plays with your panties, pulling it back and letting it snap against your pussy. He watches how you flinch when it harshly makes contact with your clit, the slight jump making his cock do the same. 

With his length slotted in between your legs, he moves himself perfectly in between your folds. The pressure of his cock maneuvered in between them, alleviating an ache that was there but never to its fullest degree as you still anticipate for more. For that pop of your cherry. However, he teases you and ultimately himself. With the way he presses his tip right at your clit, letting them kiss whenever he glides upwards. 

“Please…Ino…” You beg, feeling ready for him, like you could take this big leap within your sexuality, you arch your back upwards and press it against him more. The fabric of your top and the friction of both of your chests against each other, tickling the dark nubs of your nipples and overstimulating you even further. You whine and whimper out in need, trying to pull him down and coax with the sensualness of your actions. But to no avail, he holds some restraint over himself. He wants to see how messy that pussy can get— just for him. 

Your slick drools and stains his seats, but he can’t be mad at you. How could he when he’s the cause of all of this? Outside the scene of a noisy Friday night, Takuma can hear how sloppy and loud your cunt is, how your juices sound from the motions of his cock pressed against you. The two of you is all that can be heard, yours and his wanton moans and the wet sound of your tantalizing cunt painting his cock in all that is you. It makes it all the sweeter when he finally prods at your entrance, the head of his cock barely stretching it out before you’re tensing up all nervously.

He tries his best to console you, tries telling you that you’re in the best of care, but who is he kidding when all he wants to do is ruin you. But, he still does, hushing out your nervous cries as you hold onto him so tightly. 

“Shhh…” he draws out. “You’re in good hands here—” Slowly, he enters you, careful enough not to scare you away, but still rough enough to where you’re shedding more tears than necessary. Yet, you convince yourself that it’s all part of the process, that truthfully, Takuma didn’t find pleasure in your pain. Part of it is true when the boy can’t make himself go any further the moment that he’s fully sheathed inside of you, waiting until he feels the hammer in your heart die down and until the grip on the back of his neck loosens and those pretty pretty eyes, all teary for him, finally blinks back open and a gentle nod gives him the okay he needs to keep going. 

It’s a pain that stings you at first, filled with nothing but discomfort the more he rocks his hips. But that same pain dissipates moments later, camouflaging itself with pleasure as your legs tense around him and captures him closer to you. When you cry his name, it’s no longer from the pain in your voice, but a plea for more, an approval to his ego that he’s been successful.

The rock of his car is finally the tell-tale sign that calls for people’s attention, the fog within the glass being evident to what’s happening inside. Some people hurry off in disgust, heading straight to their destination without looking back, others lingering as they find out a new kink about themselves, arousal pooling inside of their pants as well. Through all the commotion outside of the bar as people enter the establishment, whispering about it in disgust, it calls for Kazua’s attention as she’s grown mighty impatient about her boyfriend. He has never been late to the bar, but then again, he’s never been late to a study date. 

The past weeks he’s been occupied with that damn person that she never bothered learning the name of, simply looking at them and finding visceral disgust with them. It only made Kazua more upset at how Takuma wasn’t running to her anymore, pleading for forgiveness. No, he had found company in someone that wasn’t her. It made her furious. Furious enough to where she wanted to break up with him, but also not enough where she had the energy to. 

Standing from her seat around the bar, in the far corner where you previously were— with said boyfriend— Kazua calls it a night, pulling out her phone to text Takuma and tell him off and vent about how he’s such an asshole, but the whispers of some stranger before her called her attention before she clicked send. 

“They’re fucking disgusting,” a feminine voice scoffed in disgust. “Fucking like that in the parking lot— it’s not even empty!”

“Yeah, like, have some decorum and try to find somewhere more secluded at least,” their friend agrees, chiming in. “I don’t get people and their kinks these days. They’ve lost the art of shame.”

More and more people come in, speaking on the same subject, naming that the disgusting culprits aren’t too far from here. As a matter of fact, they’re a couple of steps away. In the pit of her stomach, Kazua has a feeling— a feeling that it could possibly be the man she’s been stood up by. However, she tries to convince herself that it was her nerves, her brain playing tricks on her. Nonetheless, she walks through the front door of the bar, eyes looking down both sides of the parking lot before she spots some passers-by, who just so happen to be pausing by a vehicle. They try to squint, peeping inside before they give up. 

Kazua squirms as she tries to decipher if she should seem like a perverted prick or if she should let ignorance, in fact, be a bliss. However, her feet move for her involuntarily as she clutches herself in the chill of the night. The streetlamps overhead illuminate, brightening itself on the all too familiar vehicle that belongs to her boyfriend— Takuma. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at this feeling of bliss, back no longer on the bottom of the seats as Takuma plunges within you with all of his strength. You’ve exceeded his expectations, proving better than his wet dreams about you as he fucks into your pussy in delight. His moans become louder than yours as he bashfully meets your pelvis with his. Your slick, copious amounts pour from out of you, dripping between the crevice of your ass. That familiar coil in your stomach returns once more, a reminder of what’s to come.

“Ino,” you cry, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Fuuuuckkk, I’m about’ta—”

He kisses you, swallowing your warning whole as well as your moans. He feels his cock twitch inside of you, his pace slowing when he pulls away. “Shit, me, too. Fuck, fuckin’ cum with me. Please.”

You nod, a high-pitched ‘mhm’ falling from you as your mouth goes dry. You clench around him, locking his cock to you as your pussy creates rings around the base of him. Simultaneously, you milk him dry, your pussy swallowing every bit of his release until it’s forced out and dripping down. The both of you pant from exhaustion, Takuma stilling his actions as he’s buried deep inside of you still. 

Those brown eyes of his. They look into yours with glee, the corners of the glistening as he smiles. One last chaste kiss he plants, gently gnawing down on your bottom lips as he’s about to fall against you. However, before he could do so, he heard heavy pounding against the glass. It calls for the both of you to sit up, desperately gasping for air as the two of you immediately suspect the police. However, the feminine voice that rings out in anger halts the male more than it does you. “Takuma!” Kazua yells from the outside, calling even more attention to the both of them now. “You better open up this door right now!”

( author's note. ) please let me know what you thought in the comments. i was a bit nervy writing this uwu.

[ranticore]

some more horse guy fashions, specifically historical

erased the mandolin for this one goodbye mandolin i couldn't be bothered drawing you

so my thought process for this is like what would a society of, lbr, british ppl who are horses value and how would that translate into what they wear if they specifically don't have a taboo against nudity. these fashions are pre-florian conversion (florian was the guy who gave them all government-mandated shame) and considered traditional (the full coverage dresses are also traditional but to a post-florian period so those would be called like. idk. classical). they were still in use in the enclaves north of ironwall for quite a while. anyway returning to the point, the answer to 'what they value' is movement. in actual horses, herd hierarchy and social function is based off movement - free movement for animals for whom the flight response is so strong is an incredibly important thing. dominance in horses is expressed and reinforced by controlling and curtailing the movement of subordinates. for these people, free movement was enhanced by kinetic fashion - free-flowing garments like capes, loosely-pinned headgear with feathers and floaty cloth, and noise-generating devices like bells and chimes were all used to elaborate and enhance the appearance of somebody's gait. the overall look was mostly based off of morris dancers (pheasant feathers, bells on the legs, handkerchiefs) because i like the tie-in to suppression of folk dance by puritans. i think these guys would have some great folk dances

in much the same way trainers are just normal everyday footwear now, game kerchiefs/flags were worn in non-sports contexts because it suffused into the mainstream and became Cool. the flags were used in a game similar to tag rugby if you've ever seen that played (where snatching people's flags is used instead of full contact tackling, forcing someone who's been 'tagged' to stand still until the flags are returned). as i said before somewhere, centaur team sports go incredibly hard.

the tail ornaments were status symbols and in appearance a bit like the traditional show turnout of shire horses. woven grass and straw could be used for a temporary ornament like these, but metal or carved wood were really impressive, and very common gifts of favour between romantic partners. more flags could be hung there if you wanted to be really cool

variations of this style of mane décor were also employed (they loved their ribbons)

in the same time period, Ironwall fashion was a little bit different. These expensive caparisons were usually purchased secondhand after a real horse was done wearing them, with distinct front and back halves of different length. The garments would usually have the original liveries removed and replaced by generic religious iconography as few centaurs would ever have their own heraldry. Later, in the Georgian and Victorian eras, full coverage to the pasterns with a single undergarment was the only acceptable option (that's the classical style now) The rest of the picture is self-evident, but centaurs at the time wore additional... equipment on the withers which were called a variety of very colourful names but mostly referred to as gelding bars (as in, they will geld you if you sit on them). they were metal and spiked. these were introduced by the florian government to discourage the grossly inappropriate contact of one person's legs around another. previously there was no great taboo against riding on a centaur's back, it wasn't super common but nobody was like "this is basically public sex" until our pal centaur cromwell i mean florian came along and decided this was the work of the devil. young people were also made to wear these to discourage the homosocial behaviour very common to the mid-20s age groups of both sexes, and they also had a place in preventing stallions from wrestling (ironically increasing the danger of their fights because well now all we can do is stand back and kick). the wearing of these devices was mandatory. headcoverings were not strictly necessary, and neither were fully-wrapped tails, but some especially devout citizens took to it quite well.

[star-anise]

The thing I learned in the social services sector: Nobody gets all the help they need just handed to them. I don't know if there was ever a time or place where they did, but it's definitely not now.

I'd see people coming into a shelter with all their worldly goods stuffed in a laundry basket, listen to their tales of devastating and horrific abuse, hand them a plastic bag of toiletries, and help them sign up for government assistance that wouldn't even cover their rent. They'd leave and I'd pray that they'd find a good job fast, and not have to move back into their abusive house because they couldn't afford to live alone.

When I was a kid I used to think that if I had cancer, my problems would suddenly be "bad enough" that I'd be showered with love and support. And now I've heard from so many cancer survivors about how getting sick meant losing a lot of their social lives, because a lot of their friends checked out when the going got tough. How a lot of them went bankrupt, because cancer treatment drained every resource they had.

When I worked a crisis phone line, I had to coach people: "The people who work for government assistance are paid to be assholes and turn down as many people as possible. It's not personal. It's designed to make you give up, where "you" means "everybody." What they need is for you to call every shelter in the city, and I'm gonna give you their names and numbers. We share information so I know they're full up today and can't help you either. Your job is like a bingo card that racks up no answers, where every rejection is actually good. Once you've gotten a rejection from all six shelters, you can take that bingo card back to government assistance, and then they HAVE to fund you a hotel room for the night. If it's feeling rough and you need some encouragement, call back, because even when I can't help you, you still deserve that help."

Now that I'm on government benefits, I can see things that tip the political scales and it usually isn't the health and wellbeing of citizens in need. The government decided they didn't like paying out September's money on August 28, because it made the accounting untidy. They switched it to payments on September 1.

This was a terrible move for several reasons, but do you want to know the major thing that made them undo it?

Landlords. These poor widdle landlords, you see, kept having trouble collecting the rent on the 1st of the month, because if there was any difficulty about benefits being paid out, a lot of people only noticed when the money didn't appear in their bank account. They'd have to call their worker and wait three hours on hold to learn what the holdup was, and if it got fixed on the 1st, that money wouldn't get through until the 3rd, so the landlords had to do all the work of writing up and handing out 14-day eviction notices on the same day people paid their rent and rendered the eviction notice null.

And that was so much work for the landlords, because SO many of their tenants were on government benefits, and the conservatives in power didn't want the landlords to feel all stressed and sad and do lots of work for no reason, did they?

So they changed it to five days before the end of the month, not because they finally remembered compassion, but because they were screwing with a class of people so large, it made a serious dent in the economic prosperity of the rich.

Help doesn't come easy. Nobody gets as much as they need. Sometimes, our only power is our numbers.

I think it's important to remember, as a rule of thumb, if you take advantage of a social service, it actually makes it easier for other people who need that service to access it. Most of the time, when these services get cut, it's because politicians will look at usage and say "see, no one is really using this thing, we can afford to trim the budget for food stamps by at least half". Whereas if you decide to step up and use these programs, even if you feel like you "don't really need it", at bare minimum it's another data point advocates can use to say "hey, look, people are using this thing, this is an important service we are providing, do not cut our funding".

[aniesvision]

𝟐𝟔- 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕?

𐂂𐂃 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛!����𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚡 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒓𝒖𝒈𝒔 (♧︎︎︎), 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓!𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔, 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔!𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕, 𝒗𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒎, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒇!𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒗, 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅, 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 (𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕)

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒉𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒉𝒆. 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔'𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕

Your friend|Reader|Matt|Chris

-Can you buy us some? I'll roll it. -My friend says, walking to my bathroom to do her skin care.

-Yeah, I'll text him.

I pick up my phone, click on Chris's contact, and send him a text. The first time ever I talked to him was at a party, I wanted to flirt with him, but he thought I was a customer. I wasn't mad, though, I bought it and kept buying shit from him and I forgot my first intentions as the days went on.

He's discreet with this, making sure to keep the word only in a certain area, selling only to a few people, not letting it spread. He only sold me that day because my friend bought it from him and he knew we were close before I even knew him.

He only sells in person at parties, so when it's not a party place he goes to people's houses. Thats why he has a reputation for being a womanizer, since he's always knocking on doors. He doesn't fuck them, he only delivers, but of course, it's better for him to be seen as a fuckboy than a drug dealer.

He wasn't answering my text, so I focused on getting ready. He's always at parties so he'd be there.

🍂

-I'll find a bathroom, can you text him again and see where he's at? I need to get high tonight. -My friend asks, a few minutes after we got to the party.

I nod, leaning against a wall and texting Chris again.

"I'm in the backyard, pretty"

I smile, looking around and walking through the crowd, finding him by the kitchen. I furrow my eyebrows, thinking about the text he just sent me saying he was somewhere else, but I ignore it.

-Hey, I want two this time. -I say, searching for my wallet in my purse.

-Uh, sorry, I think you're mistaking me for someone else.

I laugh, lifting my head and studying his expressions. The dark place and colorful lights made it hard to see his face properly, but all the features were the same, there was no way this wasn't Chris.

-No, Chris, I'm pretty sure you're the one I'm looking for, I just texted you, weirdo.

I roll my eyes, thinking he was just messing around, but when the guy in front of me keeps a confused expression I start to doubt myself.

-Sorry, I'm not Chris.

He shakes his head, leaning against the wall next to him and taking a sip of his drink, his eyes scanning me up and down.

-Are you saying this just so you don't have to sell me tonight? -I tilt my head to the side, extremely confused, but still thinking it was a joke.

-Sell you what? -He asks, even his voice was similar, there was no way.

-Chris, be for real, I just want a couple joints, it's not a big deal. -I sigh, rolling my eyes.

His expressions changed and just by the angry sight in his eyes, I wondered if that was truly Chris.

-Joints? -He asks, almost in a sarcastic manner, like he wanted to be sure.

-Am I missing something? -I ask, confused.

He scoffs, shaking his head and gripping my wrist.

-You're coming with me.

He starts dragging me with him to the backyard, his grip firm but not enough to leave bruises.

-Wow, didn't even buy me dinner first. -I joke, letting him guide me.

He ignores my comment, my confusion growing when I see what I thought I was talking to all along.

-There's two of you? -I ask, surprised.

Chris' eyes widen when he sees me and the guy next to me, who looks exactly like him. Did I use anything without knowing before pulling up to the party? I don't even feel sober.

-Oh, fuck. -Chris whispers, his tone full of... regret? I couldn't quite point it out.

I looked between both of them, my head tilting to the side as I tried to understand what was going on. Chris stayed silent, separating himself from his group of friends while his clone kept me close with a furious face.

-Okay, look, I can explain... -Chris breaks the silence, but the other one interrupts him.

-You will. Follow me. -He looks down at me. -You too.

I just furrow my eyebrows, shrugging and following them. I could get lost, but how funny it is to know my drug dealer is in trouble and is about to hear some words from himself? Yeah, that's kinda funny.

The clone opens a door to an empty room in a large hallway and we all get in, the door being locked behind him. I take a seat in the middle of the bed, letting my body lean down so I am looking around propped up by my elbows.

-You're selling drugs? -The clone asks, almost yelling in anger.

They were both standing by the end of the bed, giving me a private show.

-Not drugs, just weed. -Chris sighs, crossing his arms.

-What the fuck do you think weed is? Do I have to remind you how fucked all of us are if anyone finds out?

-All of us? -I ask, in a low voice, looking between them.

-I just sell it to people I know, it's fine.

-You need to get it somewhere if you're buying, that shit is dangerous, Chris! People talk, and you can't trust everyone, especially not every girl you fuck around town, it's already bad that people think you're fucking any girl you look at.

-I'm not fucking anyone, I'm just selling my shit, Matt.

Matt. Twins, probably, that makes a lot of sense.

I kicked my shoes off, leaning against the headboard and bending my knees, hugging them and getting comfortable as I followed the argument going on.

-That's the thing: you shouldn't even be selling anything!

I notice a joint almost falling from Chris's jeans, my attention turning to the drug that I was supposed to buy. Since they're too caught up in the moment, maybe he won't even notice if I catch it.

-Matt, fuck off! This is none of your business.

I move to the end of the bed slowly.

-I'm your brother! We work together, Nick too, you can't tell me this is none of my business when literally a girl asked me for drugs! They know your name, dumbass.

Matt rolls his eyes, annoyed, his face red with anger and pupils dilated. When I was about to grab it, Chris looked down at me.

-She's my friend, it's not a big deal that she knows my name. -He crosses his arms. -Hi by the way. -He smiles at me like he wasn't in a bad argument with his brother.

-Hey. -I giggle, faking a quick hug to grab the joint.

When I successfully have it in my hand, I go back to my place by the headboard.

-You can't be serious. -Matt shakes his head, disbelief all over his face.

-What? She's right here, I can't just ignore her presence, it's rude. -Chris says, with a smirk that if I was in Matt's place I'd be pissed.

I take the opportunity to light up the joint, taking a long hit and letting the smoke out.

-Right, so you're fucking her.

I giggle, taking one more hit.

-I wish. -I say, getting their attention.

Chris furrows his eyebrows, tapping his pockets and noticing I was smoking his joint, his smirk coming back when he realizes what I said and the joint being forgotten as his eyes scanned me differently. It seemed he was thinking about doing more than just selling me stuff for the first time like the option wasn't there before.

Matt, different than Chris, had an expression I couldn't read. His jaw was clenched and he still looked pissed, but I didn't feel the anger, he wasn't mad at me after all and he made sure not to make it seem that way.

-When did you get it? -Chris asks, amused.

-You were busy. -I shrug, taking another hit and smiling at him.

The look Chris gave me made me bite my lips not to make it obvious I liked it. There's an obvious reason why I tried to hit on him the first time I saw him, he's so hot. So is his brother.

-Stop looking at her like you're gonna fuck her, dude, she just stole your shit!

Matt sighs, annoyed, running a hand through his hair.

-I'm not! And she's not stealing, I don't mind giving her a free gift. -He sits down on a desk chair, manspreading and crossing his arms, his eyes never leaving me.

-Unbelievable. -Matt scoffs.

I wanted so bad to laugh, but it wouldn't be nice to do it right now. I finish the joint, already feeling the effects of it.

-You wanna fuck her? -Matt asks, looking directly at Chris.

They looked at each other for a while and I wondered what they were thinking, the smile on my lips doing nothing to hide how excited I was with the change of mood in the room.

-I mean... -Chris tilts his head, giving his brother a look that even I could decipher.

-Come here. -Matt taps at the end of the bed, in front of him, looking at me.

-Matt, what are you doing? -Chris asks behind him, confused.

I do as Matt says, licking my lips and looking up at him, my eyes giving away how needy I already was. The weed in my body wasn't helping at all to be discreet.

Matt looks back at Chris, one hand pointing at his brother as the other touches my arm.

-You wanna do stupid shit and act like it's nothing? Then fine, do whatever you want.

Matt rubbed his fingertips up and down my arm, making me bite my lips and patiently wait for whatever was going to happen.

Although I was enjoying it way too much, Chris didn't seem to like it at all.

-But you need to learn that your actions affect people around you too, so what about I give you a lesson?

Matt's tone is sarcastic, but still full of anger, his eyes finding mine again.

-You can't be serious, you're not doing what I think you're doing, you're–

Chris stands up, but his brother immediately uses his free arm to push him back to sit down on the chair.

-Stand up again and I'll break your arm. If you do anything to stop this, you're done, you hear me?

The way Matt says sends shivers down my spine, and he wasn't even talking to me.

Chris apparently knows better than to fight his brother and his annoyed expression came back. There's a silent moment between us, both brothers still mad at each other.

Matt's hand moved to my cheek, caressing it with a delicacy that didn't match how mad he was.

-Is this okay? -He asks, with a soft tone I haven't heard until now.

I nod, smiling at him and letting him take the lead. He wastes no time to press his lips against mine, his hand finding the back of my head and keeping me close.

I almost laugh when I hear Chris's annoyed murmurs, but the way Matt pushes me to lay down again and crawls on top of me makes me gasp in surprise.

He's quick to lift my shirt, attacking my breasts that weren't covered by anything, awesome day to decide to not wear a bra. His tongue swirls around my nipples, biting and sucking it lightly, eliciting a moan from my lips.

-Matt, c'mon dude, I'm right here. -Chris wines in annoyance.

Matt doesn't say anything back, too focused on exploring my body with his mouth. One of his hands slide under my shorts, rubbing circles on my clit and feeling the wet pool on my panties. He smirks at me, keeping eye contact as he moves down, slipping my shorts down my ankles.

-You can't be serious. -Chris whispers.

Although he sounded mad, he didn't take his eyes off me and didn't even try to stand up from the chair. Chris' legs were spread and he kept his arms crossed, the sight of him turning me on even more.

Matt trails kisses on my thighs, spreading them open and sliding the last piece of clothes from my body down my legs. He purposely throws my underwear at Chris, licking his lips when he looks at me.

-So fucking wet. -He mumbles, almost hypnotized.

I prop myself on my elbows to have a better look at him, biting my lips to suppress a loud moan when his tongue comes in contact with my folds. I grip his hair with one hand, pulling him closer and sighing in pleasure. I wasn't sure if he was that good, if I was too needy, or if it was the weed, but god he felt amazing.

The way his tongue traced shapes on my clit, his concentrated look, and the way he seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was made me even wetter than I thought it was possible.

The moans leaving my lips got louder as he combined his fingers with his tongue, shoving two of them into me and thrusting at a fast pace that was driving me crazy.

-Fuck, don't stop. -I plead.

My eyes were almost closing in pleasure when they met Chris's, his hand over the obvious bulge in his pants gave me the sight I waited too long to see, my orgasm hitting me like a train.

-Alright, you win, I'll stop selling shit, that's enough. -Chris tries to stop Matt.

-I'm not done, kid, you fucked up big time.

Matt pushes his brother back to the chair, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. He taps my legs, indicating for me to turn around, my head now almost falling from the end of the bed.

I watch as Matt unbutton his jeans, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to free his dick. My legs immediately spread open again when I see it, his cock veiny and red, perfect shape, perfect size.

Matt leans down to capture my lips on another kiss, stroking his dick and rubbing it on my folds, collecting the wetness before thrusting all of him at once. I moan against his lips, taken by surprise with the burning sensation that came with it.

-So fucking good. -He whispers in my ear, giving me no time to get used to it before finding a pace.

Matt lowers his head to kiss my neck, fucking me fast and deep, making me cry out in pleasure.

Chris wanted so bad to pretend he didn't like to see me like this, rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw. But his eyes were in mine, and my expressions made him so hard that he was having a hard time palming himself discreetly.

-Look at her, so fucked out already, so pretty. You do have good taste, bro, I can't lie.

Matt used one hand to squeeze my face, tilting it down so it was hanging from the bed, making me look at Chris upside down.

The way Chris shifts in his seat gives me a quick glance at his bulge, my walls clenching around Matt's dick. I was so close again, so sensitive, his tip hitting the right spongy spot that made me squirm under him.

-I know you want it sweetheart, cum for me while you let him know how pathetic he looks. Let him know what you want.

Matt moves even faster, lifting my leg so he could go deeper. The moan I let go was pornographic, one hand squeezing Matt's arm as I come undone on his cock, my eyes rolling back and shutting with how strong it was.

Matt kept going until he painted my walls white, groaning and riding our orgasms. He pulls out and puts his pants back on, helping me sit down.

Another moment of silence happens while I clean up and put my clothes back on, the angry looks coming back between them. Matt hands me my purse, kissing my cheek gently and fixing my hair with his hand.

-Can you give us a moment, sweetheart? You did so good, I just need to talk to him in private, alright? -Matt caresses my cheeks, smiling at me.

I smile back, nodding, and taking deep breaths. I looked at Chris before leaving, his eyes following me until I was gone, but not saying a word.

I close the door behind me, rubbing my face and looking around, walking with no direction.

-Where the fuck were you? -My friend asks when I find her.

Oh, she has no idea.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @mattsfavbigtitties @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @sturnioloblues @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @sharkcat1928 @phimstarz @h3arts4harry @s1ut4chris @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @jupiter1700 @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sophsturns @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (11)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Now is your time to survive. Will you swallow your words? Or spit them and face the consequences, both good and bad?

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Alright... I can do this. This'll be a piece of cake." You paced yourself, walking around your room to clear your dooming thoughts.

"Nothing bad is going to happen; this isn't like back then. I'm in my room, where I can control what happens and when something happens. How much worse could my situation possibly get? The worst characters in the entire game are here, in my house already. It physically can't get any worse!"

"Shut up! You sound like a cult of fat Mitachurls dancing around a fire!" A Harbinger's voice shouted from downstairs, banging following their shouts.

"Break a hole in my ceiling and I swear to your archon I'll gouge out your eyes and bury them in my back garden!"

"Shuuuut up." The same voice shouted back quieter, going completely silent when another voice scolded them. You guessed it was a scolding, as their voice sounded authoritive despite being muffled. Pierro, perhaps.

This idea of yours better work. You're not fighting your past experiences for nothing! If these characters don't reply to you and make you sound (and look) like a dunce, you're done with the universe.

Speaking of being done with the universe, how on Earth did this even happen? It's not normal for fictional characters to know of the existence of people who created them. Are other games like this too? Or is Genshin Impact special in some way? And if it's just Genshin Impact, who's to say other Hoyoverse games don't have the same level of intelligence behind the characters?

It's a good thing you uninstalled Honkai Star Rail a month ago, who knows, it could have been the Stellaron Hunters in your house instead. Although... Arguably, you somehow think they'd be a lot better compared to the Harbingers.

Anyway, it's time to start your plan.

You booted up Genshin, eyeing the Celestia background hesitantly with shaking fingers, the sun in the background feeling more real considering your current circumstances.

Pushing your chair inwards in a hurry, you scrambled to get your notebook beside your PC to re-read the notes you wrote before. You didn't want to freeze up in the middle of your SOS speech, so you took it upon yourself to write key points of your argument and read them if you start feeling the anxiety creep in.

Ugh, thinking about how possibly the entirety of Teyvat was going to hear your voice scares you even more.

No, take deep breaths. The characters left aren't as evil as the Fatui, or have smart people such as Dottore or Sandrone. The only person you currently see as a threat is Albedo, but he shouldn't be a problem since his goal is to destroy Mondstadt.

You read your paper again:

Introduce yourself formally, keep it classy

Ask Aether what the FUCK the Harbingers think they're doing!!!

Beg Explain you could really use some help

Ask if there's any way someone on the other side, perhaps Albedo, could construct a portal to get these mangy, whining, murderous babies out of your house

Be polite, thank for listening, and wait for reply. Patience is key

If this little golden teenager with a ratty plait doesn't answer you, you're throwing your TV remote at your PC. ...Actually nevermind, it might come useful in the future.

Your screen suddenly loaded, the blinding white loading screen with each element fading to show the landscape. Your screen looked exactly how it did yesterday. With your Childe team, minus Childe obviously, in their idle animations outside of the Spiral Abyss portal in Mondstadt.

Okay, this is it. It's better to at least try rather than run away with cowardice. If you don't try, you'll never know whether it's actually possible to communicate with other characters. Also, in the small hope that the Harbingers leave your house, you can delete the game and start a new life. ...Hopefully.

You hesitantly went to the character selection screen and selected Aether, putting him in a team on his own with no other characters next to him. Noticeably, Arlecchino and surprisingly Wanderer aren't in the character menu either. Did the Harbinger's travel to Teyvat alter the course of history on their side? Interesting...

Now, where to communicate with him? Well, considering Signora is alive, the timeline must be just before or during Inazuma. Would staying in Mondstadt be a better place? Oh, who cares. You've got the guy in your party anyway. As long as he's there, it should be fine, right?

You selected the waypoint closest to Albedo's lab in Dragonspine, running to the camp and occasionally stopping to avoid freezing to death by using the orange seelies.

Then, you turn Aether's avatar to face you, his breath creating white vapour in the cold air of the mountain.

"So, uh, hello...!" You started, mumbling quietly as you scooch your chair back away from your desk.

No. Follow step one correctly, and be confident about it. You coughed before starting again, voice stronger but still quiet as to not alert the Harbingers.

"My name is Y/N, and I really need your help. I'm not sure what's happening on your side of things, and to be honest, I don't really care. If you haven't noticed on your journey by now, The 11 Fatui Harbingers have gone missing. Well, in your world anyway." You began.

"They somehow and miraculously ended up here, in my world. Specifically, my house. From what they've told me, they want to give me over to the Tsaritsa. I have no idea what that means, all I know is she'll probably kill me."

You waited for a response, any glitching similar to when Childe wasn't working in the abyss or visual cue to show someone (or something) was listening. You didn't see one, but continued anyway.

"I need your help to transport them back to Teyvat. I know what you're probably thinking, 'but the Fatui have been causing me problems on my journey to find my sister'. Unfortunately for you, they become important in developing your journey across each nation. I'm guessing you're currently in Inazuma or Liyue since Signora is still alive, even though I've brought you to Natlan? Ugh, this is so weird." You shook your head with a small grimace.

"Anyway, I'm really hoping you can hear me. If the Fatui of all possible people who could know of me are aware of my side and my existence, surely you and/or the Archons must know too? Maybe even the Abyss? After watching your journey in Natlan I can't stand them, but they did prove a long theory I had..."

You trailed off, hoping that maybe nobody replied to your speech because they were waiting for a moment you would stop so they could input. Alas, nothing changed. Aether was still as blank as ever, face unchanging to the world around him.

You tried everything to get a reaction. Kamera mode, Teapot mode, equipping different characters, changing locations, reloading the game... but nothing worked.

What were you doing wrong? If the Harbingers knew of your existence, surely that would have been because you used Childe a lot, right? There's nothing else you can think of that could be the cause. Unless, perhaps, the 'players' existence is a known fact throughout Teyvat? No, that couldn't be right. You've talked to NPC's and read hundreds of theories using lore found within the game. Not once did it ever mention a higher being above the Descenders, nor the Phane for that matter.

You hit the pause button in Genshin, huffing an angered sigh as you pushed your chair out aggressively. You'll have to try again later, that's the only thing you can do right now. Considering the Harbinger's have no idea what resources exist in this world, you're pretty sure it will take them awhile to figure out how to get back to Teyvat.

'Awhile' may sound like a long time, but you know Dottore will somehow cut that word by 3/4. Anyway, you'll have to save asking about a possible way to create a portal another time. Right now, what's more important is grasping a connection of understanding.

Well, you better start sorting out another problem that will soon come. The problem which Pulcinella actually pointed out, too.

Food.

And you know what you need to get more? Money.

If only Pantalone were useful in this world, then, he would be able to pay for all the expenses you'll need these next few weeks. You know, now that you're actually thinking about it, he's probably the most useless Harbinger here.

You sat up from your chair and left it pushed out, convincing yourself that this plan wasn't completely over. In truth, it wasn't. There was nothing wrong in trying again, was there? Sure, this session might have failed. But who's to say it won't work the next time? Or maybe the time after that?

...Right?

You left the room after eyeing your computer screen once more, scowling at the Genshin merch on your desk. That reminds you, you need to burn all the Harbinger merch the second you can. Maybe all your merch in fact. Okay that's a lie, although this instance has definitely scarred you for life, it won't stop you from keeping a few non-Fatui items.

Unfortunately, if you'd just looked at your desk one more time, you would have noticed Paimon waving frantically at you with a face of panic, shouting through the screen trying to get her voice to be heard on the other side.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Okay, group time. We need to discuss something." You called everyone to the living room, snatching the remote from Pantalone's hand and turning the TV off.

"Pardon me, it was my turn to watch the television tonight." He excused himself aggressively, trying to swat the remote back into his hand.

"Not so funny when it's your turn, is it?" Dottore laughed at him, pausing his writing to mock the banker.

"Are you aware of how long I had to wait until I could have a look at my channel? I only just received the remote!" He complained, glaring at Dottore through his closed eyes.

"Hmph. To me, it looks like you're sleeping laying on the sofa like that." Sandrone scoffed, her posture straight.

"Alright, Alright," You quietened them. "Pantalone can get the remote back after I say what I need to."

After a short while of waiting, everyone except Pierro, Signora, Capitano and Childe had arrived in the living room to listen to what you had to say.

"Where are the other four? Why is there always someone missing when I need to say something important." You asked the Harbingers, sighing in frustration.

"Heh, Childe is out of commission at the moment." Scaramouche snickered to himself, eyes closed imagining the pain he's going through.

"That's not a 'where', it's a 'what'." You deadpanned.

"He's in the landing with Capitano. I brought him there since these two were taking over the sofa." Arlecchino answered.

"And... Signora and Pierro?"

"Signora's in the guest bedroom, fretting about her nails growing in a different direction that how'd she'd like them to. Pierro's still in the office signing paperwork that clearly isn't helpful to our situation at this moment in time."

"Thank you, at least someone's helpful." You nodded to her, Arlecchino nodding back in an understanding as she leant against the wall with her arms crossed.

"We need to talk about food. As Pulcinella reminded me earlier today, if we don't get more food we'll run out in about 3 days."

"Does that even matter?" Scaramouche interrupted you. "The majority of us don't even need to eat, you're just wasting your resources by feeding us. Besides, who would want to eat your aw--"

"What he means to say is," Pulcinella coughed to interrupt the puppet. "Yes, this is indeed a tough predicament. How are we to get the resources we need?"

"Well, we'll have to go to the shop and buy some. But to buy, we need money."

"Money? I have plenty of that." Pantalone questions with a bored tone, his head leaning into one of his hands.

"Stop forgetting what I told you earlier, you damned diva. Your money is useless here. If we want to get money, we'll have to work." You hushed him quickly.

"Work. Yes, of course." Arlecchino thought out loud. "But how do we work when we know nothing about this world?"

"Ugh, it's not that different to Teyvat! So, who's feeling like working?"

Nobody replied, everyone looking at eachother urging them to say yes instead of them.

"...Right, well, let's eliminate the people who can't work. Signora can't, as it would be way too risky. If the police somehow recovered the damaged footage and released it to the public, I'd be dead meat she'd blow her cover immediately," You started.

"Pulcinella and Pierro also can't, as they look way too old to be working. They'd be considered retirement age from looks alone. On the same topic, Columbina and Sandrone might have to stay behind too because of how child-like they look. Columbina might be able to get away with it, but it would still turn some heads in my opinion."

"Hah! It seems you're worth some praise." Sandrone commended you, letting out a hearty laugh in satisfaction. "However, this does cause some problems on my end of the bargain."

"And what problems would that be?"

"Why, exploring your world's machinery, of course! Becoming an engineer would be the perfect way to learn more about your world."

"Yes." You gave her a dead look. "And tell me, you're planning to become a professional's apprentice to learn? Something tells me your pride wouldn't let that happen."

"It can't be that difficult." She scoffed to herself, voice quiet and eyes narrow.

"I wanted to see more of this world..." Columbina sighed sadly, interjecting Sandrone. "Oh well, I suppose I can do that by asking you questions instead~"

"Right..." You sweated nervously.

"I have no objections." Pulcinella nodded with his eyes closed, being in agreeance. "We can discuss Sandrone's means to learn later, as I believe it would be an excellent idea."

You sighed once more, not bothering to argue more, and continued your rambling.

"Capitano is also a no in terms of getting a job. That helmet really stands out, and considering he can't and wouldn't want to take it off, I guess he's not going outside ever. Anyway, so, uh... We'll discuss who wants to have what job and when they'd like to start tomorrow. I'm going upstairs to tell Signora what's happening. Arlecchino, Pulcinella, could you both respectively tell Childe and Capitano, as well as Pierro this information?" You told them, head looking back over your shoulder before turning straight to walk up the stairs.

"Of course." They both replied, leaving to do their own thing.

As you were walking up the stairs, you could hear Pantalone and Dottore arguing for the remote. Funnily enough, it was Columbina's abnormal dry tone that caused the two to stop fighting and find something to watch together. Huh, you wished you could do that.

You knocked on the guest bedroom door, hearing Signora scoff and call out to the person on the other side telling them to enter. You walked into the bedroom silently, sitting on the bed waiting for her to talk to you.

She was sitting on the chair in front of the mirror, fiddling with a nail file whilst muttering about the state of her fingers. Beside her fumbling form was some nail varnish. Hold on a minute, aren't those your mothers?

"Signora, you wouldn't have happened to find the nail kit in front of you in my parent's bedroom, would you?" You asked her, feeling your annoyance begin to grow.

"Hm? Maybe I did. What's it to you?" She glared in the mirror, eyeing you without turning around.

"What's it to me??? Did you seriously just ask me that? You're using a dead woman's nail file and nail varnish!" You argued.

"Well, yes." She shrugged, a wicked grin growing on her face. "I'll have to make do with what I can get. If it weren't for the surprisingly beautiful colour and necessity of my manicure, I would have put the thought out of my head immediately."

"But those are just excuses! Look, if you really wanted a fucking manicure, you could have just asked for my stuff in my room."

"And how, for Teyvat's sake, was I supposed to know you had supplies in your room?" She eyed you strangely.

Well, she has a point. A dumb point, but one you'll accept as long as she stops using your mother's marriage anniversary nail kit.

"Just...! Just pass the nail kit to me and I'll give you my manicure bag. Stay here, and stay out of my parent's room." You warned her, snatching the nail file and nail varnish with haste.

You speedwalked to your bedroom, dumping the items on your desk with the thought to put those in your bedside drawer later. Stopping for a moment to look at your monitor still showcasing Genshin, you sighed and continued pacing the room to find your manicure bag. When finding the bag, you quickly swiped it off of the shelf and returned to the guest bedroom.

"Right." You started, dumping the bag and opening the zip to let her see what was inside the bag.

"Is this alright for you, your majesty?" You mocked her, unable to stop yourself from speaking. "You'll have everything you could possibly need for your nails in here. From different colours, to charms, to glitter. Capiche?"

"Hmm..." She fiddled with the bag, having a look at the colours you've given her. "Since you're here already, why don't you make yourself useful and do my nails for me? Do whatever you wish with them in terms of colour and point, I'd like to see how nails in this world differ from Teyvat." She ordered you with a wave of her hand, one leg over the other.

Is she actually joking?

"Are you kidding me? I'm not doing your nails for you!" You exclaimed, outraged at the suggestion itself.

"Oh, please. Don't act as if the suggestion is atrocious. Aren't you the one who often mentions our wrongdoings when we're minding our own business? Who's to say we can't do the same?"

"A normal person." You grumbled under your breath with squinted eyes. "Murder and stealing are two very different things."

"I hope you're as good as talking as you are making excuses." She rolled her eyes, laying her hands out in front of her. "Not only that, but doing nails. If I don't like them, you'll have hell to pay."

Well, looks like you don't have a choice in terms of doing her nails for her. What a prissy bitch.

"Fine." You scoffed at her, dragging a spare chair in the corner of the room to sit down.

You looked through the bag of colours you had, deciding to do a red and black gradient whilst leaving her nails relatively long and sharp. Perhaps you could add little light blue dots to the black gradient to highlight her eyes? Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

"Those are the colours you're choosing?" She raised on eyebrow with an uninterested frown.

"I'm sorry, your highness, were you expecting a pretty baby pink?"

"Continue." She rolled her eyes.

Filing and washing her nails to the perfect size, you began to paint the nails delicately. As you were working, you noticed Signora begin to soften her features, a small almost non-existent smile on her face with satisfaction in watching you work.

"Do you do nails often?" She asked you with a gentler tone, tilting her head to get a better look at you painting her smallest nail.

"Not really." You denied, shaking your head. "I only have this many colours because my mother liked to gift me stuff like this."

"Ah..." She made a noise of understanding. "So that's why the majority of your colours are still sealed."

"Yeah. I never used them because I saw no need to, occasionally I'd help my mother do hers if she went out to party with the neighbours. Also most of my Pinterest references use a specific set of colours."

"...Pinterest?"

"It's a type of catalogue." You tried your best to explain, fanning the nails hoping they would dry quickly.

"You can save pictures that other people post and use them for references. I like to use it for clothes and nail inspiration for my mother."

"That sounds... exquisite." Signora noted with wide eyes. "You mean to tell me different people from all over can post these pictures? And others seeing the pictures can use them as they wish?"

"Yup. Although, you saying that out loud makes me think you're thinking of something illegal." You deadpanned.

"I'm not!" She accidentally recoiled, slowly putting her hands back out when realising. "It just seems like a power not worthy on humans. Surely you would use such a powerful idea for messages instead of just pictures?"

"You're literally just describing a forum."

"Hm?"

"Nevermind!" You stated, grabbing the blue and adding dots to the black. Instead of ending it there as planned, you decided to add glitter and put a couple specks onto each dot. You looked back at the nails from a distance, finding satisfaction in your work.

"What do you think? If you don't like them, I don't care. To be fair, this is the first time I've done nails in awhile."

"I suppose they're... alright." Her cheeks turned slightly pink, hesitating in how to answer. "They're much better than what I thought they'd be. Your world has such vibrant colours for varnish, usually I just stick to black."

"I noticed." You put all your materials away, attempting to zip up the bag.

Before you could zip up the bag completely, Signora stopped your hand by placing hers over your own.

"Hey, don't move your hands so much! I just finished your nails!"

"Ahem. I believe we had a deal? You do my nails, and I'll do yours? Although I would rather spend my time doing something else, I am not one to back out of an agreement such as this."

Somehow, despite the day not going to plan, you don't hate how it ended. In fact, you feel as if you've grown a little closer to Signora today.

"Oh, and whilst I'm at it," She paused. "I better have a look at what clothes you have in your wardrobe. From what I see now, I don't think I'll like what I'll see in there."

You take back what you said earlier.

Has anyone noticed I like the word 'prissy' a bit too much?

Anyway, Insatiable Madness is going to have longer Views from now on 🥳

I like this part a lot, it's definitely one of my favourite Views I've written so far!

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt @the-lazy-perfectionist @florelll @vvzhyxx @averycuriousperson @starlaisopaque @liyuedragonmorax @lovelive-animequeen1029 @mayythammyy

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[deerspherestudios]

Hiiii, I'm sorry if I'm gonna seem mean but I just need to get this out of my head

Why do you always answer coldly to your fans? Like not coldly but dry..I don't know why but every time you respond your fans it just seem like you're annoyed. Like yes I get it a lot of people answer things you already answered before and it's annoying to say the same things over and over, but at the same time they're your fans, someone who loves what you did and someone who appreciates you and your creations. I'm sorry if I may seem mean but it really makes me sad when I see you responding like "if this wasn't obvious enough" or "stop asking me things I've already responded to". Maybe also I'm just really paranoid but I don't know

Hello! I debated answering this privately but I feel like I should address it publicly in case you're not the only one who feels that way.

I'll keep things short above the cut (I address the whole thing below but beware it's a ramble) but just know I will always appreciate people who enjoy my work and give me support regardless; if that wasn't obvious enough <3 /pos /aff /lh

I'm genuinely sorry if it comes off as cold; I didn't even realize my tone could be interpreted in such a way. If it seemed cold, perhaps it was more of me being direct? (I worry that even now I'm coming off as cold when I'm trying to be direct and straightforward!)

I don't wanna get personal but if for whatever reason it did, I never meant my words to hurt people.

As for the phrase, I don't think I say "if this wasn't obvious" that often, but when I do it's more of a "you got it!!" tone rather than,,, sarcasm? But I understand why it might've been interpreted that way.

As for asking people to stop sending questions I've answered, I've made QnA masterlists for this exact reason. I'd just appreciate it if people go through them! Plus an FAQ is an FAQ for a reason.

Understandably people don't have the time to explore through everything on the masterlists, and just want an answer to a quick question. I can't really help with that! If something's been answered it'll be there, and if it's not, I'll add it in.

That's just how I manage my blog and I respectfully ask people to check the FAQs and such before sending me questions I've already talked about, some of them extensively.

At the end of the day, answering questions take time and energy, as silly as that sounds. It's just a Tumblr blog after all, but at least in my case, it takes a lot out of me. But whichever question I choose to respond to I do my best to give my all, including this one.

[burrowkit]

I'm feeling a tad bored, so I'm going to apply this to 4 characters from the Blood of Eden series by Julie Kagawa.

1- What does your character do when they think no one’s looking Allie: Reading a book Zeke: Reading The Bible/sleeping Jackal: I would like to think he secretly reads books when no one is watching. Conducts science experiments. Kanin: Looking for a cure to the virus he accidentally released

2- What’s the one thing your character would save in a fire (beyond the necessities)? Allie: Zeke Zeke: Allie Jackal: Himself Kanin: Everything

3- Who’s on speed dial? Allie: Zeke, Jackal Zeke: Allie Jackal: Azura, secretly Allie Kanin: No one

4- Your character gets turned down for their dream job. What’s their second choice? N/A

5- What would they tell their ten-year-old self? Allie: You will get through this. Just keep going, you can do it. Zeke: Eden exists. And, you'll fall in love with a vampire. Jackal: You're going to become a monster and love it. Kanin: I cannot remember being 10.

6- Where would they want to go on a first date? Allie: A library/bookstore (abandoned, as they all are in their universe) Zeke: Some adorable boat ride with a picnic. Maybe to find a new place. Would end up saving humans before the date is over, forgetting that it's supposed to be a date. Jackal: Nah. Maybe some blood sport event or killing rabids. Kanin: N/A

7- What’s the best advice they’ve ever received? Allie: Something something you aren't facing your grief and just burying it. You will kill people, you just need to figure out a way to live with it. Zeke: You're a monster. Decide what kind of monster you want to be, but just make a decision. Jackal: (in the books that we know of) You do know your raiders are just going to back stab you, right? Kanin: I guess in book, Allie's pep talk in the sewers

8- What’s the worst advice they’ve ever received? Allie: You're a monster, you just need to accept that. Zeke: All vampires are evil, soulless creatures that don't care about humans Jackal: To leave the group Kanin: To trust Jackal's words and intentions

9- What’s one physical detail they’d change about themselves? N/A, I'm not answering this one

10- When was the last time they were held? By who? Allie: Well, Sarren tried to kill me. So did my brother. Oh, you mean like hugged? Cuddled? Zeke. Zeke: Allie <3 Jackal: You don't want to know. Kanin: It's been awhile, Allison. Do not linger in the past.

11- What’s their favorite thing about their favorite season? N/A, I'm pretty sure Zeke would like summer/fall for the food on trees. I don't think Allie really cares much, other than not freezing (which she can't anymore). And Jackal seems too disconnected to really care. Okay, adding Kanin to this, I don't think he really cares.

12- Their wallet gets stolen. What do they do? Allie, Jackal: Kill the person who stole their wallet/stuff Zeke: Offers the thief food, water, medicine. Kanin: Takes his wallet back, probably finds a way to make the human have a better life

13- Prioritize: Love, money, power, knowledge? Allie: Life. Knowledge. Love. Zeke: The human race being okay. Love. Jackal: Power. (Familial) love. Already seems to possess a lot of knowledge to become powerful. Kanin: Knowledge of how to undo. Has power. Tossed love out the window. Money doesn't really apply in this world

14- What’s something nobody knows about them? Allie: Is allowing herself to forget about being human Zeke: Maybe how jealous he was of Jackal until he found out Allie and Jackal were siblings? Jackal: Has a heart Kanin: He cares about all his children. All of them

15- What’s in their fridge? Blood.

16- What (creature, object, substance) are they most disgusted by? Allie: Rabids, vampires (especially ones torturing humans/being cruel to humans) Zeke: Evil vampires, Sarren, himself Jackal: Bleeding heart vampires, sewage Kanin: Vampires viewing humans as nothing but food (even though he does the same).

17- What’s their second worst habit? Second worst? Alright... Allie: Worst is trying to save everyone. So I guess forgetting the world for Zeke? Or opposite. Worst habit is forgetting the world for Zeke, and second worst is trying to save everyone at the cost of her own life. Zeke: Worst is probably his self hatred / hatred of vampires. Second worst is his desire to stay attached to specific humans / revenge without knowing Jackal's side Jackal: His worst habit is probably his love of killing those that are important to others. So his second worst is probably killing randomly/being so detached. Kanin: His worst is probably putting human kind above his family. His second worst is probably thinking he knows everything.

18- What are the victory conditions for their life? Yeah, maybe best if I skip this one

19- In the end, your character fails to save the day. Assuming they survive, what do they do? Allie: Fall apart, go for revenge, pull herself together, save the day Zeke: N/A. Probably is kidnapped by the villain. Jackal: Pretends to betray everyone just to betray the betrayal and save everyone. Kanin: Picks himself up, tries again.

20- Your character is charged with a crime they didn’t commit. What do they do? Allie: Accept it. Pretend to leave. Protect the humans. Zeke: Allie argues his innocence. He just hangs his head and accepts that he's probably the villain they think of him. Jackal: "Lol, I'm a monster, so?", proceeds to kill anyone in his way Kanin: Accept it. He feels like he deserves it.

21- Your character is charged with a crime they did commit. What was the crime? Murder.

22-25- How would you describe your character’s life in one sentence?What important statistic would they want displayed above them?What’s the first thing they would buy if they won the lottery? What profession do they most respect? N/A

26- What childhood injustice did they never get over? Allie: Being left to starve. Her mother's death. Zeke: Not able to face a hoard of rabids and save everyone. Jackal: Not so much childhood, but almost being killed by his vampiric father Kanin: N/A

27-35- How would they handle having a panic attack? Your character is burdened with an inconvenient superpower. What is it? If they died and could come back as any person, animal, or object, what would they be? What’s the best meal they’ve ever had? Where would they stand at a dinner party? Who would they invite to the dinner party?What makes a perfect day for your character? If given the opportunity, would they want to know how and when they died?What’s the one thing they’ve always wanted to do? Why haven’t they done it yet? Mostly N/A, or already covered in the book

36- What do they tend to joke about? Allie: Being a monster. Not being a monster. Zeke: Not much Jackal: Killing others. Betraying others. Being a cruel monster. Kanin: Not much. He left his sense of humour behind centuries ago.

37- What’s off limits? Allie: Someone dying Zeke: Harming humans Jackal: Being predictable Kanin: His past.

38- Whose wedding would they cross the world to attend? Whose funeral? Allie: Wedding- Jackal's if he decided to get married. Maybe Azura. Caleb and Beth's. Funeral- Caleb. Beth. Jackal. Zeke: Wedding- none. Funeral- Jackal, but he'd be the one killing Jackal so... awkward funeral. Jackal: "My sister" Kanin: N/A. Probably Sarren's funeral. Maybe Allie-x-Zeke's wedding. Allie, Jackal and Zeke's funerals. Possibly Jackal, but he'd ensure no one knew he was there.

39-43- What impossible choice did they make that turned out to be the right one? The wrong one? Your character has someone to hype them up. What would they say to get everyone excited about your character? What recurring dream does your character have? What is the meaning of life to your character? What book does your character pretend to have read? Skipping

44- Someone takes undeserved credit for your character’s work. What do they do? I don't think they really care too much. Jackal might try to kill whoever stole the credit, or remind them of the shared credit (to his sister). Kanin would probably not care too much.

45- What controversial belief or view does your character hold? Why? Do they hide it? Allie: Humans do matter. Doesn't hide it. Zeke: His love for a vampire at the beginning. His love of blood at the end. Jackal/Kanin: I'm not sure.

46- Your character is at a theme park. Where do they go first? N/A

47- What’s your character’s favorite name? Discussed in the books

48-50- What’s the biggest compliment they’d give themselves? How does your character feel about bugs? If your character could hit a reset button on their life, would they? N/A

Character Development: 50 Questions

What does your character do when they think no one’s looking?

What’s the one thing your character would save in a fire (beyond the necessities)?

Who’s on speed dial?

Your character gets turned down for their dream job. What’s their second choice?

What would they tell their ten-year-old self?

Where would they want to go on a first date?

What’s the best advice they’ve ever received?

What’s the worst advice they’ve ever received?

What’s one physical detail they’d change about themselves?

When was the last time they were held? By who?

What’s their favorite thing about their favorite season?

Their wallet gets stolen. What do they do?

Prioritize: Love, money, power, knowledge?

What’s something nobody knows about them?

What’s in their fridge?

What (creature, object, substance) are they most disgusted by?

What’s their second worst habit?

What are the victory conditions for their life?

In the end, your character fails to save the day. Assuming they survive, what do they do?

Your character is charged with a crime they didn’t commit. What do they do?

Your character is charged with a crime they did commit. What was the crime?

How would you describe your character’s life in one sentence?

What important statistic would they want displayed above them?

What’s the first thing they would buy if they won the lottery?

What profession do they most respect?

What childhood injustice did they never get over?

How would they handle having a panic attack?

Your character is burdened with an inconvenient superpower. What is it?

If they died and could come back as any person, animal, or object, what would they be?

What’s the best meal they’ve ever had?

Where would they stand at a dinner party?

Who would they invite to the dinner party?

What makes a perfect day for your character?

If given the opportunity, would they want to know how and when they died?

What’s the one thing they’ve always wanted to do? Why haven’t they done it yet?

What do they tend to joke about?

What’s off limits?

Whose wedding would they cross the world to attend? Whose funeral?

What impossible choice did they make that turned out to be the right one? The wrong one?

Your character has someone to hype them up. What would they say to get everyone excited about your character?

What recurring dream does your character have?

What is the meaning of life to your character?

What book does your character pretend to have read?

Someone takes undeserved credit for your character’s work. What do they do?

What controversial belief or view does your character hold? Why? Do they hide it?

Your character is at a theme park. Where do they go first?

What’s your character’s favorite name?

What’s the biggest compliment they’d give themselves?

How does your character feel about bugs?

If your character could hit a reset button on their life, would they?

Source

[wethotcrazy]

Buona Fortuna

pairing: Mercedes F1 Team! Kimi Antonelli x F1 Academy Driver! Reader

word count: 5500

trying out some new stuff, but chat i fear i cooked a little too hard. also if you like this tell me (i might make more parts to it), and sorry for the sudden change i just wanted it to be all in one part instead of two.

The Mercedes F1 hospitality area was nearly empty at 11 PM, save for two figures huddled at a corner table. Kimi Antonelli, still in his team polo despite the late hour, sat across from Y/N, who was surrounded by engineering textbooks and a laptop displaying race telemetry data.

"You know," Kimi said, sliding a fresh cup of coffee toward her, "most people would think I'm crazy for spending my free evening watching someone study thermodynamics."

Y/N looked up from her calculations, offering a tired but genuine smile. "Most people would think I'm crazy for studying thermodynamics between F1 Academy practice sessions."

"That's why you're you," he replied with a soft smile, a familiar warmth of admiration in his voice.

Their friendship had always been like this – comfortable silences, shared understanding, and mutual support that went beyond their racing careers. It started back in their Prema days when they were both trying to navigate the delicate balance between racing and high school.

While Kimi had treated academics as a necessary obligation, Y/N approached it with the same passion she showed on track. He remembered watching her in awe as she'd switch seamlessly between analyzing racing lines and solving calculus problems during their breaks.

"How do you not get burned out?" he'd asked her once during their Prema days.

"Because I love both," she'd answered simply. "The racing helps me understand the physics, and the physics helps me understand the racing. They're not separate things in my mind."

That response had stuck with him, reshaping his own approach to racing. While he might not share her enthusiasm for academic pursuits, her words had taught him that true excellence came from understanding every aspect of what you do.

Now, a couple of years later, he found himself gravitating toward her study sessions whenever their racing schedules aligned. Sometimes he'd ask questions about the engineering concepts she was learning, genuinely curious about how they applied to their cars. Other times, like tonight, he'd simply keep her company, finding inspiration in her unwavering focus.

"Remember when you posted that congratulations message when we  graduated?" Y/N asked suddenly, looking up from her textbook.

Kimi grinned. "How could I forget? 'Proudest teammate award goes to @KimiAntonelli,'" he quoted the replies that had flooded in. "I meant every word of it, you know. Still do."

"You always have been supportive," she laughed, but her eyes showed deep appreciation.

"You know, I joke about you being a nerd all the time, but..." he paused, gathering his thoughts. "Watching you excel in both worlds, it made me realize I wasn't pushing myself hard enough in some areas. When I'm tired after a long day of practice and all I want to do is sleep, I think about you studying after equally long days. It makes me want to be better, to understand more, to push harder."

Y/N set down her pencil, touched by his honesty. "Kimi..."

"I mean it," he continued. "Everyone in F1 asks me about my rapid rise through the ranks, but they don't see what I see. They don't see my friend who's working twice as hard, not just winning races but understanding the very science that makes these cars work."

A comfortable silence fell between them as Y/N returned to her studies and Kimi started reviewing his own race data on his tablet. This had become their routine whenever their race weekends coincided – her studying, him working, occasionally breaking the silence to share thoughts or ask questions.

"Another win for Y/N L/N!" the commentator announced as she crossed the finish line. "The F1 Academy sensation continues to dominate while pursuing her mechanical engineering degree..."

After Y/N won her F1 Academy race, Kimi was the first to reach her in parc fermé. As they hugged in celebration, he whispered, "You always make it look so easy."

She laughed against his shoulder. "Nothing about this is easy."

"That's what makes it impressive," he replied, pulling back to look at her. "And don't worry – I saved you a spot in the hospitality area. You've got that fluid dynamics test to study for, right?"

"You're not sick of being my study buddy yet?"

Kimi's expression softened. "Never. Besides," he added with a playful grin, "how else am I going to learn why my car does what it does? My engineers would be proud of how much engineering I've absorbed just from listening to you study."

That evening, as they settled into their usual spot, Kimi watched Y/N dive straight into her studies despite the exhaustion of race day. Her dedication wasn't just about achieving good grades or winning races – it was about pursuing excellence in everything she did. And while he might joke about her being his inspiration, the truth was far deeper than any joke could convey.

Because in Y/N, Kimi saw what true passion looked like. It wasn't just about being fast on track or smart in class – it was about the relentless pursuit of understanding, the dedication to growth, and the courage to chase multiple dreams at once. Her drive pushed him to be better, to learn more, to dig deeper into his own craft.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making her look up from her books. "I know I tease a lot, but you really are an inspiration. Not just to me, I know so many others out there that really look up to you."

Y/N's face softened into a smile. "And you're the best study buddy a racing driver could ask for."

"Even though I still don't understand half of what you're studying?"

"Especially because of that," she laughed. "Your confused face keeps me entertained during the boring parts."

As they settled back into their comfortable routine – Y/N with her studies, Kimi with his race notes – he couldn't help but smile. Some might find it strange that a Formula 1 driver chose to spend his free time watching his friend study engineering, but to Kimi, these quiet moments were as valuable as any time spent on track.

Because it was in these moments that he was reminded of what real dedication looked like, what true passion meant, and how the pursuit of excellence in one area could inspire growth in another. Y/N might joke about him being her study buddy, but in truth, she was teaching him something far more valuable than engineering principles – she was showing him what it meant to never stop pushing, learning, and growing.

And that, more than any podium or pole position, was why his admiration for her only grew stronger with each passing day.

The Mercedes garage buzzed with pre-qualifying preparations, but Kimi's eyes were fixed on his phone screen, watching Y/N's F1 Academy race. He was supposed to be reviewing track data, but he couldn't help himself – her racing style had always captivated him.

"Antonelli!" Ollie Bearman's voice cut through his concentration as his friend poked his head into the Mercedes garage, Haas race suit tied around his waist. "Let me guess – watching Y/N's race?"

Kimi didn't even bother hiding his phone. "She's in P2, fighting for the lead."

"When are you going to admit you're in love with her?" Ollie teased, settling beside him to watch.

"I'm not—" Kimi started to protest, but his words were cut short as Y/N executed a perfect overtake into Turn 1. His involuntary smile said more than any denial could.

"Sure, sure," Ollie laughed. "You've only been like this since our Prema days. 'Y/N's so dedicated,'" he mimicked. "'She's so inspiring. Did you know she got another perfect score?'"

Kimi felt his cheeks warm. "She's my friend."

"A friend you can't take your eyes off of," Ollie pointed out. "A friend whose races you watch while you should be prepping for quali. A friend who—"

"She's through! She's won!" Kimi interrupted, jumping slightly in his seat as Y/N crossed the finish line. Without thinking, he immediately opened his messages.

Kimi: Incredible drive! That move into T1 was pure class. Good luck with studying later - FaceTime after quali? Need to hear all about that overtake 👊

Her reply came quickly:

Y/N: Thanks Kimi! 🏆 Those racing lines finally making sense 😂 Absolutely yes to FaceTime - I'll be watching your quali! Show them how it's done ❤️

The heart emoji made his own heart skip a beat, though he tried to ignore it. His phone buzzed again:

Ollie: I saw that smile when she texted back. You're not fooling anyone 😏

Kimi rolled his eyes, but couldn't completely suppress his grin. His race engineer called him for the final quali briefing, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Yet as he slipped into his race suit, he found himself thinking about how Y/N would be watching.

The qualifying session was intense, but knowing Y/N was watching somehow made him push even harder. As he crossed the line to secure P3 in Q3, he could almost hear her cheering.

The moment he parked in parc fermé, he was pulling out his phone, FaceTiming Y/N while walking to his media obligations.

Her face appeared on screen, beaming with pride. "P3! Kimi, that last sector was incredible!"

"Not as incredible as your overtake earlier," he replied, unable to stop smiling. She was sitting at her desk, engineering textbooks already spread out around her, hair still damp from her own podium celebration.

"Are you seriously doing this interview while FaceTiming?" she laughed as he positioned himself for the post-quali interviews.

"You're more important," he said without thinking, then quickly added, "Besides, you can help me with the technical questions about car balance."

A Sky Sports reporter approached, amused to find him on FaceTime. "Kimi, fantastic qualifying! Who are you talking to?"

"Y/N L/N," he answered proudly, turning his phone to show her. "She just won her F1 Academy race today."

"Kimi!" Y/N protested, embarrassed by the attention, but he could see her trying not to smile.

The reporter, well aware of their friendship, played along. "Any advice for him, Y/N?"

"Remember what I taught you about apex speeds," she teased. "It's just like solving differential equations – all about finding the optimal solution."

Kimi laughed, his expression softening in a way that made Ollie, watching from nearby, shaking his head knowingly. "Always the engineer, even on race day."

As he moved through his media obligations, he kept Y/N on the call, their easy banter and shared joy making the tedious process enjoyable. She occasionally chimed in with technical insights that actually impressed the journalists, making Kimi's chest swell with pride.

"You should be studying," he finally said, once he was heading back to the team motorhome.

"I am studying," she protested, holding up her thermodynamics textbook. "I'm just also watching my favorite Mercedes driver crush it in quali."

"I'm the only Mercedes driver you know personally," he pointed out.

"Still my favorite," she winked, and Kimi felt that familiar warmth spread through his chest.

Maybe Ollie was right. Maybe these feelings went beyond admiration and friendship. Maybe the way his day felt brighter when she smiled, the way he looked forward to their study sessions, the way he felt proud of her achievements as if they were his own – maybe it all meant something more.

But for now, he was content to walk through the paddock, phone in hand, listening to Y/N explain her winning overtake while flipping through engineering notes. In that moment, with hundreds of miles between them but their connection as strong as ever, Kimi realized that some feelings didn't need to be admitted out loud to be real.

"Hey," Y/N's voice softened. "You went quiet. What are you thinking about?"

Kimi smiled, watching her juggle her textbook while trying to maintain eye contact through the camera. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my corner, even when we're racing so far apart."

Her expression melted into something tender that made his heart race faster than any qualifying lap. "Always, Kimi. We're a team, remember? Even when we're not teammates anymore."

And if Ollie happened to catch him later that night, still on FaceTime with Y/N as she studied and he reviewed race data, both of them fighting sleep just to stay connected a little longer – well, maybe his friend wasn't completely wrong about those feelings after all.

The F1 social media landscape exploded one Tuesday morning when Prema Racing announced their 2025 Formula 2 lineup. Among the names was Y/N L/N, making history as she stepped up from F1 Academy after a dominant season.

Within minutes, Kimi's notification feed was flooded as fans tagged him in the announcement. He didn't hesitate to share his excitement:

@KimiAntonelli: From studying engineering between races to fighting for the F2 championship - this is what dedication looks like! So proud of you @YN_LN! Time to show F2 what you're made of! 🏎️📚

The tweet quickly went viral, but it wasn't just the announcement that caught fans' attention. Within hours, racing fan accounts began sharing compilation videos:

"KIMI AND Y/N: FROM PREMA TO F1/F2 🥺❤️ (a thread)"

The first video showed them as young teenagers at Prema, Kimi helping Y/N carry her textbooks to the engineering room while she explained race strategy concepts. Another clip featured their podium celebrations, where they'd always find each other first for a congratulatory hug.

@F1Moments: "The way Kimi BEAMS when talking about Y/N's achievements? We're not okay 😭❤️"

The clip showed various interviews where Kimi praised Y/N:

"She's not just fast on track, she understands these cars like an engineer..."

"While we're all focused on racing, she's getting perfect grades in mechanical engineering..."

"Y/N shows that with enough passion, you can excel at anything..."

@MotorsportEdits had created a masterpiece: a split-screen montage of their parallel journeys. On one side, Kimi's rise through the ranks to Mercedes F1; on the other, Y/N dominating F1 Academy while pursuing her degree. The video ended with their recent FaceTime sessions during Kimi’s post-quali interview, Kimi turning his phone to face the Sky Sports camera.

#KimiAndYN started trending on racing Twitter.

@RacingNews: "Remember when Kimi brought his phone to post-quali interviews just to stay on FaceTime with Y/N? 🥺"

@F1Academy: "From study buddies to racing's power duo! Congratulations to our champion @YN_LN on her promotion to F2!"

Quote tweeted by @MercedesAMGF1: "Our boy @KimiAntonelli's biggest cheerleader is moving up to F2! 🙌 #KimiAndYN"

The social media storm reached new heights when an old video surfaced from their Prema days:

"Can someone please explain the physics behind this overtake?" Kimi asked in the clip, while Y/N drew diagrams and equations on a whiteboard, both still in their race suits.

"Every time I explain physics, you somehow turn it into a racing question," Y/N laughed in the video.

"Because you make it make sense!" young Kimi protested.

@PremaRacing decided to join the fun, sharing a collection of photos: "Buona fortuna e buon viaggio! #KimiAndYN"

The photos showed their journey: studying together between practice sessions, celebrating podiums, Kimi and Y/N's high school graduation, Y/N watching Kimi's first F1 test from the pitwall while highlighting her engineering notes.

Ollie couldn't resist commenting:

@OllieBearman: "If I had a euro for every time @KimiAntonelli talked about @YN_LN during our Prema days, I'd be richer than Lewis Hamilton 😂"

Y/N finally responded to the chaos with a photo of her and Kimi from their Prema days, both asleep in the engineering room, textbooks and data sheets scattered around them:

@YN_LN: "Some things never change ❤️ Thanks for always believing in me @KimiAntonelli! 📚🏎️"

Kimi's heart skipped when he saw her post. He was in the Mercedes simulator when his phone exploded with notifications, but he immediately took a break to respond:

@KimiAntonelli: "From helping me understand physics to making history in motorsport. Proud doesn't even begin to cover it. Can't wait to share the paddock with you again ❤️"

Later that evening, during their regular FaceTime call, Y/N couldn't stop laughing about the social media storm.

"Have you seen the edits? They found clips I didn't even know existed!"

Kimi grinned, watching her sort through her F2 contract papers while simultaneously organizing her study materials. "My favorite is the compilation of every time I've talked about you in interviews. Apparently, I'm not subtle."

"When have you ever been?" she teased. "Remember when you brought me up during your first F1 press conference?"

"Because they asked about inspiration! And you're..." he paused, his expression softening, "you're the most inspiring person I know."

Y/N's cheeks turned pink. "Keep saying things like that and these fans might get ideas."

"Let them," Kimi said softly, watching her juggle her racing dreams and academic pursuits with the same grace she'd always had. "They're not entirely wrong."

The hashtag #KimiAndYN continued trending well into the night, with fans sharing more memories, creating new edits, and celebrating their journey. But for Kimi and Y/N, it was just another evening of FaceTime study sessions and race discussions, their bond stronger than any trending topic could capture.

@F1Community: "Find someone who looks at you the way Kimi looks at Y/N when she's explaining engineering concepts 😍 #KimiAndYN"

Attached was a recent photo from the paddock: Kimi leaning over Y/N's laptop, completely absorbed as she explained some complex engineering principle, his expression a perfect blend of admiration, affection, and awe.

Some things really never did change.

The Italian summer sun painted long shadows across the Antonelli family's garden as Kimi watched Y/N from the kitchen window. She was curled up in her favorite spot on the outdoor sofa, engineering textbook balanced on her knees, hair gathered in a claw clip. Even on break, some things never changed.

Last summer had been at her family's house – he smiled remembering how her mom had fussed over both of them, making sure they took actual breaks from racing and studying. This year, it was his family's turn to host, and his mother was equally determined to fatten them both up with endless servings of homemade pasta.

"She's still studying?" his mother asked in Italian, appearing beside him with fresh bread for dinner.

"Always," Kimi replied fondly. "But watch this."

He grabbed two glasses of fresh lemonade and headed out to the garden. The moment he sat beside her, Y/N automatically shifted, making space while never taking her eyes off her thermodynamics equations. It was a practiced movement, born from countless study sessions across years of friendship.

"Mum's making that pasta you love," he said, setting her lemonade within reach.

"The one with the pistachio pesto?" Y/N looked up, eyes brightening.

"Of course. She says you're too skinny from all this studying."

Y/N laughed, finally closing her book. "Between your mom and mine, we're never going to go hungry during these summer breaks."

It had become their tradition, these shared summers. Between the chaos of the racing season and now Y/N's university schedule, these precious weeks were their chance to just... be. No pressure, no cameras, no podiums to chase – just them, family, and the Italian summer stretching endlessly ahead.

"Remember last summer when your dad tried to teach me proper Italian, Tuscan?" Kimi asked, settling deeper into the sofa.

"And you kept mixing up your words?" Y/N grinned. "And the look on his face…"

"Hey, I've improved! Besides, you're one to talk – you still use engineering terms in Italian."

"That's different! Those are technical terms!"

Their laughter mingled with the sound of cicadas and the distant clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Y/N's textbook lay forgotten as she tucked her feet under herself, turning to face him fully.

"I love this," she said softly. "How even with everything changing – you in F1, me heading to F2, all the craziness – we still have this."

Kimi's heart warmed at her words. He knew what she meant. These moments were precious: the quiet afternoons studying, the family dinners where their parents swapped embarrassing stories about their karting days, the late-night gelato runs in his dad's old Fiat.

"You know," he said, watching the sunset paint her face in golden hues, "I was thinking about our first summer together, back in Prema. Remember how you made me help you study for physics?"

"You mean how you used every physics problem as an excuse to analyze race strategy?" she teased.

"It worked, didn't it? I understood downforce better after your explanations."

Y/N smiled, reaching for her lemonade. "And now look at us. You're living our F1 dream early, and I'm..."

"Being absolutely incredible," he finished firmly. "Racing, engineering degree, and still finding time to spend summers with me and my crazy family."

"Your family is my family too, you know that. Plus," she added with a mischievous grin, "your mum's cooking alone is worth the trip."

As if on cue, his mother's voice called from the kitchen: "Bambini! Dinner!"

They shared a look – they were hardly children anymore, but to their families, they'd always be those two kids from Prema, dreaming big dreams between study sessions.

"Five more minutes!" Kimi called back, not ready to break this moment.

Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder, a gesture so natural it made his heart ache with familiarity. "Your mom's going to come get us out here if we're late."

"Worth it," he murmured, watching the last rays of sunlight fade. "Besides, you need a break from studying."

"Says the one who spent three hours analyzing race data this morning."

"That's different!"

"How?"

"Because..." he paused, smiling. "Okay, maybe we're both workaholics."

"Maybe that's why this works," Y/N said softly. "We understand each other's drive."

The garden was growing darker, fairy lights automatically twinkling to life along the pergola. From the kitchen came the warm sounds of family life – his mother singing along to the radio, his father setting the table, the rich aroma of dinner wafting through the air.

"Ragazzi!" his mother called again, more insistent this time.

Y/N laughed, standing and offering him her hand. "Come on, before we get in trouble."

Kimi took her hand, but didn't immediately get up, just holding it for a moment. "Thanks for choosing to spend summer here again."

"Always," she squeezed his hand. "Where else would I want to be?"

As they walked toward the house, Y/N's textbook tucked under one arm and their empty glasses in hand, Kimi felt that familiar surge of gratitude. For all their success on track, for all their dreams coming true, it was these moments he treasured most – the quiet evenings, the shared laughter, the simple joy of having her here, making his family home feel even more like home.

"Race you to the table?" Y/N challenged, eyes sparkling.

"You're on, F2 driver," he grinned, both of them breaking into a run like they were kids again.

Some things changed – their racing categories, their achievements, their growing dreams. But this – their summers together, their understanding, their connection – this remained constant, as reliable as the Italian sun and as sweet as his mother's lemonade.

And as they collapsed into their seats at the dinner table, breathless with laughter while his parents fondly shook their heads, Kimi couldn't help but think that of all their victories, all their podiums and poles, this might be his favorite kind of winning.

"And crossing the line to take pole position in, Y/N L/N with a stunning lap!"

Kimi's celebration in the Mercedes garage was immediate and enthusiastic enough to draw knowing looks from his entire team. He was supposed to be preparing for his own qualifying session, but his eyes had been glued to the timing screens.

His phone was already in his hand: Kimi: POLE POSITION!! That sector 2 was absolutely insane! Call later? 🏆✨

Her reply came seconds later: Y/N: Learned from the best 😉 Good luck in quali! I'll be watching between engineering lectures ❤️

"Antonelli!" George Russell called out, grinning as he passed by. "Tell your girlfriend congratulations on pole!"

"She's not my—" Kimi started, but George was already walking away, laughing.

@GeorgeRussell63: Caught our rookie watching F2 quali instead of prep 👀 Wonder why? 😏 @KimiAntonelli @YN_LN #Busted

The tweet immediately went viral, with fans cooing over Kimi's obvious pride in Y/N's achievement. The F1 paddock's collective teasing had become relentless since summer break ended.

Later that evening, after both their sessions were done, Kimi settled into his hotel room for their nightly FaceTime call. Y/N appeared on screen, trophy visible in the background, textbooks already spread around her.

"There's my pole-sitter," he beamed.

"There's my Q3 hero," she countered. "P4! Kimi, that was incredible!"

"Thanks to your tip about the kerbs in turn 9—"

A notification interrupted them: @LandoNorris: @KimiAntonelli mate your face literally lights up every time you talk about @YN_LN 😭 Remember when you made us all watch her F1 Academy race during the drivers' briefing?

Y/N burst out laughing. "You did what?"

Kimi's cheeks reddened. "It was an important race! And they all wanted to watch anyway..."

Another notification: @OscarPiastri: Can confirm. He gives us daily updates about both her racing AND her engineering degree 😂 #Whipped

"The whole grid is against me," Kimi groaned, but he was smiling.

"At least Ollie has backup now," Y/N teased, adjusting her laptop so she could better see him while highlighting her thermodynamics notes.

"Speaking of Ollie—" Kimi started, but was cut off by yet another notification.

@OllieBearman: Throwback to Prema days when these two would "study" together but really just stare at each other for hours 👀 #IveBeenSayingItForYears Attached was a photo of teenage Kimi and Y/N in the Prema engineering room, books open but clearly lost in conversation

"We did not stare at each other!" Kimi protested.

"No, you just watch me study every single day," Y/N smirked.

The notifications kept coming:

@CharlesLeclerc: Remember when @KimiAntonelli asked for restaurant recommendations in every city because he wanted to "surprise a friend" during race weekends? 🤔

@CarlosSainz: The friend: @YN_LN 😂

"You asked Charles for restaurant recommendations?" Y/N's expression softened.

"I wanted to make sure you had good places to eat during race weekends," Kimi mumbled. "You forget to eat when you're studying..."

@MaxVerstappen: Called it! Pay up @SChecoPerez - told you he'd watch her quali instead of prep 💰

@SChecoPerez: Next time hide your phone better @KimiAntonelli 😂

Y/N was fully laughing now. "You've got a betting pool on us?"

"The whole paddock apparently," Kimi sighed, but couldn't help smiling at her joy.

@AlexAlbon: POV: You're trying to discuss race strategy but @KimiAntonelli is texting @YN_LN Attached was a video of Kimi smiling at his phone during a strategy meeting

"I'm never going to hear the end of this," Kimi groaned.

"Poor baby," Y/N teased, then her expression turned more serious. "Hey, did you see the analysis I sent about your sector 3? I think if you adjust the entry angle—"

Kimi's heart swelled as she launched into a detailed technical explanation, seamlessly switching between race engineer and student mode. Even with an ocean between them, she was still looking out for him.

@LewisHamilton: Y'all leave them alone - it's sweet 🙌 Some of us remember what it's like to be young and in... racing 😉 @KimiAntonelli @YN_LN

Their phones buzzed simultaneously with a message from Ollie: Group chat "Prema Days" Ollie: LEWIS KNOWS 😭 Even the 7-time champ sees it! Just kiss already!

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Kimi caught the slight blush on her cheeks. "We should probably study," she said, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Of course," Kimi agreed, already pulling out his own notes. "But first - that move into turn 1 for pole? Walk me through it?"

Her face lit up as she began explaining the technical aspects of her qualifying lap, and Kimi found himself smiling softly, completely absorbed in her enthusiasm. In the background, their phones kept buzzing with notifications, the entire F1 grid apparently determined to point out what everyone else could see.

@ValtteriBottas: Taking bets on how long until they officially announce... their "friendship" 😏

@MercedesAMGF1: The way @KimiAntonelli watches all her races from our garage when we're at different tracks 🥺

@ZhouGuanyu24: Don't forget how he explains her engineering projects to us during track walks! Never seen someone so proud 😂

But for Kimi and Y/N, wrapped up in their own little world of race analysis and study sessions, the teasing was just background noise. Their connection, whether across the paddock or across continents, remained as strong as ever – even if the entire F1 grid seemed determined to turn it into the paddock's favorite love story.

"Hey," Y/N said softly, interrupting his thoughts. "Earth to Kimi?"

"Sorry, just thinking."

"About how the entire F1 grid is never gonna let up on you?" she teased.

"About how lucky I am to have you in my corner, even from far away."

Her expression melted into something tender that made all the paddock's teasing worth it. "Always, Kimi. Distance doesn't change that."

@OllieBearman: I've been watching this romcom live since Prema and let me tell you, it only gets better 🍿 #KimiAndYN

This time, neither of them bothered to protest.

The blue light of the laptop screen illuminated Y/N's face as she finished highlighting another passage in her thermodynamics textbook. A soft snore made her look up at her phone propped against the desk lamp - Kimi had dozed off during their FaceTime call, his face peaceful in sleep. The sight brought an involuntary smile to her face.

It was typical of their study sessions these days. Between his F1 schedule and her F1 Academy races, late-night calls were often the only time they could catch up. He'd insist on keeping her company while she studied, claiming he was reviewing race data, but more often than not he'd fall asleep to the sound of her pen scratching against paper.

She closed her textbook quietly, though she knew the sound wouldn't wake him - he could sleep through anything after a long day at the track. As she started her bedtime routine, her mind wandered over their relationship, this comfortable space they'd carved out for themselves between friendship and something more.

The paddock gossip was relentless these days. Every shared smile, every supportive tweet, every time he watched her races from the Mercedes garage - it all became fodder for speculation. Even Ollie, who'd known them since their Prema days, wouldn't let up with his knowing looks.

Standing at her bathroom sink, Y/N caught her own reflection smiling at the memory of Kimi's proud face when she'd explained a particularly complex engineering concept earlier. He'd leaned closer to his camera, completely absorbed, that familiar warmth in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

The truth was, she knew how she felt about him. It was there in the way her day felt brighter when his name lit up her phone, in how naturally they'd gravitated toward each other since their junior racing days, in the comfortable silence of their study sessions. But timing was everything in racing - they both knew that better than most.

They were both chasing their dreams at full speed. He was making his mark in F1, living up to the immense expectations placed on Mercedes' youngest driver. She was balancing her engineering degree with her F1 Academy campaign, working toward her own F1 dreams. Adding another variable to that equation felt risky.

Climbing into bed, Y/N glanced one last time at her phone. Kimi had shifted slightly, his features soft in sleep, Mercedes team jacket still on. They had something special - something that had grown organically from shared ambitions and mutual understanding. Maybe that was enough for now.

Racing taught you patience, after all. Sometimes the best moves weren't the boldest ones, but the ones you waited for, setting them up carefully until the moment was just right. For now, she was content with their late-night study sessions, his proud smiles after her wins, the way he'd listen intently to her engineering explanations even when he was exhausted.

"Goodnight, Kimi," she whispered, ending the call. Whatever they were, whatever they might become, it was worth protecting. Some things didn't need to be rushed.

Her phone buzzed with a text from him, sent automatically when their call disconnected: Sweet dreams, engineer. Proud of you always. ❤️

Yeah, Y/N thought, settling into sleep with a smile. They were just fine exactly as they were.

here are some of the tags: @floweringanna, @hiraethberry, @holendernik, @oooom4arie, @burnhampeaches, @dying-inside-but-its-classy

let me know if you want to be added to the list :))

[gooperts-gunk]

post-qsmp q!bbh's story so far...

back to back we have had new q!bbh story pieces, on mythcraft with lilithluvsya and as mr. x on arkanis, so im going to write down all of my own notes of what we have learned so far + my crazed theory talk :) this will be long!!! note: this is from the perspective of someone who doesn't know mythcraft lore and the only arkanis lore i know is from what i pick up in passing lol. i will do my best!!

starting with the halloween special on mythcraft with lilith and rurus in which bbh helps lilith solve a puzzle that leads to her finding and adopting a new child, we get to see an actual bbh summoning!! im unsure if the treats are a necessary offering or just a kind gesture, but the soulfire-esque flames or wisps seem to be a very specific detail...

the chant lilith says is "hear these words, hear my cry, spirit from the other side! come to me, i summon thee, cross now the great divide!" implying that if he's summoned, chances are, he was in the underworld or somewhere else. later on during technical difficulties, lilith mentions that "i don't even know the state of his soul at the moment! because usually whenever i summon a chant through those words," she repeats it, "his soul just acted a bit... weird! he usually doesn't act like that whenever i summon him. usually, the magic feels a bit more smooth, and it was very choppy this time. his soul just felt different from the last time i saw him. i can't put my finger on it." it's hard to say what exactly this means, (i've seen some people think it's about how he died with a split soul, he never got the other half back from purgatory as far as we know...) as we've never seen him be summoned before, but in this case, he just showed up on the chest crying out a confused "HELLO...?" but later on says "i could sense something was off, that's why im here." with his trickster confidence. he also mentions he's "been around, doing my thing. im very busy," and no concrete answer is ever stated. another detail is that halloween is said by lilith to be "the veils between our world meet once a year," meaning as far as we know he can only be summoned on halloween.

when he accepts the treats and attempts to leave he says "im trying to get back home!" a place of residence for q!bbh is implied, whether or not it's one we know of or even if it's an actual house is uncertain. when bad comes across a haunted house he says "oh my gosh! i had a house like this once, only it was red." which might cross out the place of residence being on the island. might, considering the house was later changed because most people hated the red lol. when bad is downed from fall damage lilith comments "why are you so fragile?! you're not usually, like, this breakable." bbh says "oh, as soon as i die, i get to go back home, so..." since we know how !bbh deaths work, (he can only perma-die once from a unique death, e.g. the combination of soul vulture infection and nuke radiation slowly ate away until perma-killing that version of himself, which means it was an entirely unique instance of death. so it's safe to assume that ever since he had fallen, he would have perma-died from simple things like starvation, but then can no longer perma-die from it again, with a possible exception of if it's starvation along with something else at the same time) we know that him dying wouldn't be enough to bring him 'back home' if it's implied to be the underworld or the mind desert, therefore, it would mean that if he dies during a summoning that the connection is immediately broken and he's back to wherever he was at the time. he's sometimes even excited whenever he gets downed, even saying "take me! take me home!" either because 1. he just really wants to get home for some reason or 2. he just really doesn't want to work for lilith.

but, we know he doesn't HAVE to work for lilith, because lilith states at the end after he's left to fellow mythcraft member nex that, "you know how im a witch? ... WELL... a long, LONG time ago... i made a mistake with my magic and i MIGHT have summoned a greater demon who turned out to be a TRICKSTER demon instead and KINDA reversed the contract on me and NOW im stuck with him until i die and i have to do his bidding whenever he comes around, but only whenever i create the first kind of contract for him to flip around. and he kind of... is around, and changes rurus a lot, and i have to work to make sure that rurus can transform back into a human one day because they're stuck in their bunny form..." which is a LOT to digest and she said it all in like two breaths lol. so in reality lilith is stuck with bad, not bad being stuck with lilith, and bad could peace out whenever he wanted because it's trickster demon rules and on top of that he can also transform humans into bunnies??!!

going back to where my previous notes were, when they arrive at rurus' house and bad seeing a painting of himself with 5 cracked eggs around him, he exclaims, "what the fudge is that?! THAT'S CRAZY!! who's the monster who made this??" meanwhile lilith is oblivious to whatever this means. he also steals the painting. rurus shows up! (rurus says he smells like sulfur, which is definitely the 'demon smell' ak!bagi mentions once she has a moment to speak with him after the chaos) rurus mentions making the painting and it was likely a gag that bad wasn't supposed to see during the lore stream but it's there now LOL and bad repeats the same horror to them as they're oblivious too, "it's you blowing up the moon! all the moons that you've blown up?" "oh, yeah, im sure it's blowing up the moon!!" he says in angry sarcasm, and then sobs a little. "i had eggs once..." both lilith and rurus inquire, and lilith is the one to say "you became a father?" in myth!lilith's defense, the residents have a lot of adorable baby creatures they care for and might sooner assume the eggs in question are cute creatures LOL "well i just said i had eggs, so..." "oh, you hatched them?" "ohhh he HAD eggs- lawren, he- he hit menopause, he said something about that..." I HEEHEE'D. idc if it's just a goof and not entirely canon im keeping it in here.

later on, when the trio complete the puzzles and find a well-decorated baby ghost named willow inside a willow tree, bbh's behavior to willow is very endearing and also straight-forward, casually offering some steak that he stole from rurus' house. he finds the way out of the tree for them by hearing a raccoon's chitter, and lilith comments "you're really good at talking to raccoons for some reason..." and rurus pokes further with "did you have a special relationship with a raccoon?" "yeah i- i speak raccoon." this of course is brought up from the perspective of both of them knowing his lore out of character and wanting to poke fun, but it's also a fun coincidence that it was a raccoon, as raccoons are very special to pomme. it starts storming, and rurus tells bad to give willow his hood but alternatively gives willow his soul lantern instead since his hood is a "...non-removable item...".

when they bring willow back to lilith's house, he continues stealing like he has been since he was summoned, but this time he takes a cookie from a cookie jar and passes one to willow before taking one for himself. when willow thanks him and says she loves cookies, he gives her another and says "you can never have too many cookies!" which would immediately make you think of his kids and their cookies, dapper especially as they're a total cookie fiend. as willow settles in he teaches willow the first and only lesson he's given to her so far: "whenever someone invites you into their home, you get to take whatever you want!!" he goes upstairs and shows himself and willow around lilith's house, rurus mentions a gaming chair, of which was a toilet. bad takes it and says, "i know someone who would love this!" which of course would be richas' gaming set-up that had a toilet for a chair because of a prank, if i remember correctly.

bad asks where his room is, making an assumption that his summoning meant he was going to move in. when lilith says he could stay at rurus', REALLY not wanting him here, he says "i can't have a room at both??" like the greedy little man he is. <3 willow is then shown her own room, where bad then proceeds to place the furniture he stole from lilith into the room for her.

the birth certificate is revealed! willow is lilith's daughter, and bbh is her guardian demon. (many were unsure if he was a parent to willow but lilith clarified on twitter that he's a guardian demon that will show up from time to time) rurus inquires if HE scribbled his name there, and he says "no, no! that's crazy. that'd be ridiculous." in a bit of a liar voice.

when he accidentally picks up willow's sign, he courteously says "im sorry," and gives it back, prompting rurus to tell lilith she could just ask and he'd give her stuff back. when she does in a cutesy way, he dodges it entirely by saying "no hablo inglés" and when lilith demands for the furniture in spanish, he says "i don't speak spanish". i wouldn't call it entirely parental as willow's not his kid, but as you can tell bbh has shown far more care and respect to this child he just met than his contractors. the trickster has priorities!

they tuck willow into bed, and bbh falls asleep standing up, when lilith starts shoving him saying it's time to get him to bed, he wakes up suddenly, yelling "night terrors!! night terrors!!" we know he's gone long periods of time without sleeping, but he's having night terrors when he does...

bbh has technical issues, and during that time, rurus and lilith have a back and forth about him and their contract which is summarized in the bout with nex above. rurus says "you know, i used to be able to swear before i knew him, and now i can't." "huh! that's a weird incantation." this itself is likely a joke about their out of character friendship, but they come up with the idea that he might have a literal swear jar that he puts people's swears in, never to be said again lol.

lilith decides to keep the portal open as bad loses summoning connection to their world (aka technical difficulties) so he can visit whenever he likes to be a guardian demon for willow.

this wraps up the mythcraft section of new q!bbh pieces! onto arkanis!

a lot of people were unsure if mr. x would be q!bbh, but it becomes VERY clear based on how he acts with familiar faces, and some late night conversations...

not much to note when bad / mr. x greets fit, but there's a very silly familiarity when he says he'd like to take fit out to brunch right before talking about torturing him... yeah sure man why not O_O when fit asks if he's considered being GOOD and not murdering people, bad says "i considered it, but my therapist says i should embrace my hobbies. im trying to listen to my therapist more." so he at least had a therapist in recent times to tell him this, because on quesadilla island when asked about therapy, he mentioned something along the lines of that he tried therapy once, but he'd get chased out of town by people with pitchforks.

to briefly dissect the cutscene, from what i've learned, bad floating is a sign that he's powerful in valigma! only people with magic in valigma can float, examples being araldo when we get to see him later, and also bia raux who is also brought up to bad when telling him the current lore after the event. also. the manor. the banquet. i love you builders, it's so eggpire-coded. that man can't escape the aesthetic of red vines even if c!bbh tried LOL and another fun detail, he has ghosties/souls bursting around him! it's become integral to his character :)

when mr. x encounters the brazilians and his escaped captive fit, all the fantasminhas float around him! it's super cute that the grim reaper got little ghost sidekicks, and then doesn't even recognize that they're ghosts <3 he mostly called denix a gremlin or goblin, but that's because out of character he DEFINITELY knew who the admin was, that's why he bullied them so much and not the others lol.

even though he's having fun annoying everyone as mr x., bad still takes moments for the little ghosts, like spam crouching with amora when she creeps up to him, him and denix bonding by killing a penguin?? and playing songs on the flute and they all surround him and dance. :)

when the find the button room starts, and bad does his npc voice, bagi immediately starts yelling, knowing the "you got this! you can do it!" all too well, and bad keeps saying it in recognition. while it was already true that ak!bagi is a continuation of q!bagi, this interaction itself can be enough to assume that mr. x is q!bbh if he remembers it like she does. when it's revealed it's a find the button room, she's even MORE distressed, "are you responsible for this? please- please tell me you don't..." "i would never!" he says like a liar, and then maniacally laughs. bagi also frequently calls him "bad" and not mr. x unlike mostly everyone else, seeing through the silly alias.

one interesting detail is how hungry mr. x is for totems!! every once in a while he'll mention how he wants more totems popped, in the valigma cemetary / cemetario do valigma, he asks quel for how many totems they have, when they say a hundred, he says "passa tudo!" and drops mobs on them. he really wants totems for some reason!! does he absorb something from it or did he just really hate foolish that day? lol

once the event is over, bad and bagi get to talk! bad becomes uncle to amora, bagi's daughter. amora is immediately very sweet to bad! bagi catches bad up on what's going on in valigma, telling him about araldo and bia, and bagi thinks because he's a demon that he could help the specialists understand and handle the magic themselves, "you see those pink blocks glowing that way? they're like some of the magic powers that this land has, but we can't just touch it and start doing magic all the way through the town. so, basically, there's powers everywhere that we don't know how to use and those two entities fighting each other, they use different kinds of power. so maybe you, being a demon and stuff... maybe you can teach us how to handle this." which, upon mention of him being a demon, he deflects by admiring a streetlamp. bad didn't act this way with lilith and rurus because they were already aware he was a demon since they summoned him, but he never confirmed anything to bagi other than the vague vastness of his age and his immortality, if i remember correctly. which is more than he's confirmed to other people!

bad points out bagi's smoking, "you've taken up smoking, im guessing it's been really hard?" "yeah! yeah, no, that was because, the things i lived before, you know..." "yeah i understand..." "it caused me a lot of trouble." if im correct in assuming this is about the island and losing the kids... :( which bad then segues into asking if there's an ikea. LOL

when jvnq starts taking bad to pac's house to steal furniture, he says "oh wow! you guys are all nice and close together, i like this. yeah, i hate having to walk really far." knowing that q!bbh tried really hard to get people to live close by to him when he was dying so someone would take care of his kids recontextualizes this as living far away being a regret he still holds </3 (not to mention, cc!bad himself regrets building his bases so far away)

when pac says he'll give bad more muffins and furniture if he teaches him how to fly and such, bad deflects by saying "yeah! it's easy, you just got to... you got a- you got a nice view!" and looking at the black hole outside his house.

later on, when bad gets transported by araldo, they seem to get along nicely and araldo wants him to do MORE chaos at some point, which i believe is worrisome if it's true that araldo is the problem in the fight between araldo and bia raux... but also very fitting for him. meanwhile, sent back to his friends, he has only good things to say about him, and also inserted some of his silly lies. the entire interaction feels reminiscent of the times he'd talk about the 'eyeball guy with the snatched waist' aka the watcher, or even cucurucho to a certain degree LOL

when gabe takes bad to space, bad comments that it's a first for him! "the moon is just like i imagined it'd be..." congrats !bbh for having your first moon experience, at least, as far as you can remember!

meanwhile, transported to the mr. x manor, bad gives a dizzying tour to gabe, denix, and amora! he introduces the skeppy room when asked about his bedroom, mentioning he doesn't really need to sleep, and he instead meditates on top of the skeppy. (someone PLEASE feed this man dapper's special cake recipe) he also introduces his chair and i have no doubt that people have shown a comparison of his chair here vs. his chair in the hall of grim but i'll put it here anyways lol. he's also very consistent because the vod i went to to get a screenshot of his hall of grim chair is the near exact same "and this is my chair..." when he introduces it.

when bad, gabe, denix and amora are in the maze that the experts + fit went through to get to the cemetary, they stop at a corner to chat and gabe asks bad "changing the subject a little, if you had a son now what would his name be?" (possibly more gender neutral than the translator says, which is how bad interprets it,) this likely was on the mind because a bit earlier while exploring the manor, denix asked him to give him a second name or middle name and bad hadn't answered. bad stops to think about it, before prefacing "well, i- i've had kids over the years, a couple, but you're saying if i got a new kid, right? what would i name... him... probably... how do you say 'gremlin' in portuguese?" it's the same, but alternatively gabe offers "duende." meaning denix's second name is probably duende now LOL but more importantly, for the first time, at least directly tonight, q!bbh was reminded of his children. gabe contextualizes why he asked, "it's because in this city... anything can happen, you understand? one day you're single, and sad, and the next you have a family." "no, that's true... yeah. i- i understand what it's like, one day you just wake up and you got kids, i totally get it... and then everybody dies, and you're left alone." OOGH. EEYOWCH. we don't know for certain how long q!bbh has been living after escaping quesadilla island, or if even in the end cc!bad is planning that he escapes at all, he might still be bound to it. but however long it's been, he's been carrying onto the weight of everyone disappearing, with only strange creatures (the bunnies, the penguins, cucurucho...) to keep him company once everyone is gone. gabe inquires about if his family died, and he covers up with "oh, no, im just saying that's the inevitable. that's what happens, sorry." ...top 10 sentences that are more depressing when contextualized by an immortal demon with a heart too big for people to comprehend... :( something that bad misses here is denix asking if he wants to adopt amora, but this comes back around!

transported again, while gabe walks bad towards the boat the experts arrived on, he says "valigma keeps many mysteries and lots of trouble, right? fights, in this case many fights, problems, death, pain, suffering, and then we decide to have a child despite all these problems; how can this be, right? it's a weak point." bad says "yeah, love tends to lead to lots of problems..." which would be specifically commenting on taking care of children. and from the perspective of his current situation, being without them... yowch. :( then bad falls into a ravine, shoved by denix, and amora saves him. :) but when he fell he purposefully avoided landing in the water. :(

later on they go to the leaderboard! there amora offers that bad can adopt her for a while, since she's "kinda an orphan" based on the activity of her parents other than bagi, and he accepts :) though knowing he literally can't be active either lol. from then on, amora calls bad "dad" for the rest of the night, and "pai bad" the next day when talking with some of the experts :)

some more fun stops later, they pause in the gallery as gabe explains more of the araldo and bia beef, to which bad says once more to "wine and dine" araldo... if u want it done right, do it urself, geez... chat, beat this guy up for me... he has a weakness for guys with power... another moment in this stop to goof around, bad says "yeah, im really good at cooking... people. meals." which is normal q!bbh and the least surprising thing he's said or done all night.

the night slowly comes to a close, after running into guaxi for a small reunion, he says goodbye with a bang when denix kills him and he logs out. they then contain mr. x's corpse in a box of glass, preserved for memories <3

if this is what post-qsmp has been like for q!bbh so far, IM SO EXCITED FOR MORE!!! and yes i HAVE spent at least 5 hours writing notes as i vod review!!! q!bbh on arkanis felt a lot like a classic day on qsmp with his character plus some pain and suffering, and q!bbh on mythcraft gave us some extra lore bits to think about!!! very very fun, im sooo excited for whatever ending cc!bad has been wanting to make for q!bbh, because if it means he's still kicking it going around to other worlds, all of his pain in tow, IM SO READY!!! thank you if you went through everything here it was a doozy and mostly for yelling about with other people since i haven't been on tumblr for a while and i miss the screams from here. :)

[kreemkreem]

Yes or no reading

Pick an image

Just think of a question in mind and select an image you will get an answer. Only select one image

So pile number one it's a huge yes for you. Whatever question you ask answer is yes. Maybe you are asking for something like pass exam or about your promotion. If it's about you asking then spirit are saying yes but don't be nervous keep going.

Hello pile number 2 for your Pile it's a yes or no I ask many times but spirits are confusing me. I think most of the people who choose this file have asked about your crush or your spouse like is he mine is he the one for me but but I am not getting an answer it's very much in between I maybe you will have karmik connection with this person so it depends on you. Results will be dependent on you.

(someone in this pile like to repeat words) sorry you didn't get an answer 😭😭 it's funny 🤣 and hurtful at the same time 😅😭😅😭

For those of you who have selected the third pile your answer is no. Just no. Clear cut.

(this is my only pile that get to the point answer. Seriously I just got no other than that I am not having any other message for you. I think most of the you just wanted a confirmation so if it is then it's a no)

Today's reading made me dumbfounded guys.😶😶 Bye.

Don't forget to give me a feedback. I really want to know what your questions are answers are so interesting 🧐🧐

[neowinestainedress]

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

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

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

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

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

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

THANK YOU OMG AOJSOAOSA

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

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

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

CONGRATULATIONS! you predicted the future

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wave | lee donghyuck (part two)

part 1 | masterpost | full fic not split in two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

haechan: can you answer me?

haechan: i miss you : (

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I use my brain,” you reply nonchalantly.  

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

“Last week.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.”

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

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

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

Haechan’s screwed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you do—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I can’t go out with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you have a guitar, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Biscuits?”

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

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

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

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

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

“All at the same time?”

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

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

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

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

“Then take it back,” he says nonchalantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Out of the kitchen!”

“There’s not even a wall?”

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

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

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

“They’re mine? I left them here?”

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

“When?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this is nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not? You didn’t hear it, yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why do I?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I have to get on my knees?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” He squeaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want to take merits for this, too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? And what does it feel like?”

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

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

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

“Really? Your mom would bake that too?”

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

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

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

“Why are you smiling?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And speechless.”

And a bit closer.

“And grateful you’re on earth.”

And closer.

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

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

“Like running to your safe place?”

You nod. “It feels like… home.”

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

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

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

You know all the words to your song.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They do,” you retort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Period?”

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

“As if that ever stopped you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can make some.”

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

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

“Does he touch their thighs?”

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

Yeri snickers. “Ah, l’amour.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re right,” Yeri replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeri gulps, looking around to take time to answer.

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

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

“You fought a Professor?” Jaemin gasps loudly.

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

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

“Ew,” it comes out collectively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cause you deserve it?” You shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

“You and?” Jeno asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” Minjeong asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have to come up with something.

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m not.”

“Caught you!”

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

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

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

“So, you were hiding, uhm?”

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

“Am I allowed to eat it?”

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

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

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

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

“Do you confess, Casanova?” You tease.

Donghyuck smirks. “How does it look like?”

You shrug. “Don’t know, you tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I asked you first,” he retorts.

You blink. “Oh, really?

“Yeah, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what is that, love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You both laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile and nod, grabbing the shirt he’s handing you. “I hate to say it, but you were right,” you chuckle. He doesn’t reply and you don’t drag the conversation, simply enjoying the thousands of words you two should be telling each other, but are not ready to face, yet.

“Can I use the bathroom? I need to freshen up a bit,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Most of the others are crushed in the living room, you think you saw Ningning sneak into Jaemin’s room but you were too caught up in Donghyuck to be sure of that, Renjun and Jeno might still be awake but you’re sure that all the weed they smoked won’t make them pay attention to you.

“Sure, if you need towels they’re in the cabinet under the sink,” he tells you, and soon you’re out of the room.

It doesn’t take you long to clean yourself up; you wash your face and steal someone’s products to get rid of your make-up, quickly get rid of your dress, put on some perfume —you’re pretty sure it’s Donghyuck’s cause you smell like him— and then wear the shirt he borrowed.

Once you’re done, you quickly make your way to the kitchen, and, passing in the living room, you see your assumptions are right; there’s no sight of the two love birds, and the only ones awake are Renjun, Jeno and Yeri, while the others are crushed on the sofa. You expect a remark from the girl, but she barely notices you, too busy playing —trying to— something with the other two.

After a few minutes, you’re back in Donghyuck’s room, and you notice he’s changed into something comfortable, too. He’s lost folding his clothes, and you let yourself get lost in his beauty. Too busy fighting him and trying to prove something, you realize you never noticed the smallest details that make him so handsome. The bridge of his nose, his soft lips, the moles on his cheek, his soft brown hair falling around his face.

“You alright?” His voice brings you out of your daydreams and you nod shyly, feeling embarrassed for being caught staring.

“Yeah, everything fine,” you reply, quickly walking to the bed. You see him staring at you with a confused expression, but avoid any awkward moment by reaching for your phone and pretending to be busy. But you’re not busy, you’re confused. You’re not used to this, any of this. Your nights have always been filled with yourself and books (whether for school or your entertainment), and if you felt wilder a movie, rare were the occasions when you would go out with your friends. And regret is creeping on your back. You feel like you lost a lot, you feel like you’ve punished yourself to get where you are now. And you think about love, how you treated your relationships, how little weight you gave them. And when you think about what you felt in these past months you wonder if you have ever even been in love.

“Remind me to never make you drink again if you get this sulky.” Once again, Donghyuck’s voice brings you back to earth, and when you turn toward that sound, you see he’s sitting next to you.

“I’m not sulky,” you chuckle. “I was just thinking about what I said before.”

He hums. “And?”

You shrug. “Nothing. You can’t change the past, I was just… having some bittersweet emotions.” It’s the truth, but you know that deep down your brain is trying to make you focus on the friendships because you don’t want to think about your biggest problem: the man you have by your side. This wasn’t supposed to be whatever it is. It wasn’t supposed to happen. And you don’t hate that it did, but you don’t know how to feel and act about it, cause you didn’t plan it. You couldn’t study this, you couldn’t put this on a PowerPoint and have it all laid out for you to understand it, it’s not logical, it’s not a theory, a study, a thesis, it’s emotion.

“You seemed happy before,” he whispers after a few minutes of silence passed. His hand gently rests on your stomach and you feel your heart race.

“I was,” you reply. “I am. I just wish I found this sooner, I always focused on my studies and career, and looking back at it now, it was lonely. And…” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “I’m jealous of you, ‘cause you managed to be at the top with all of this.”

He chuckles, but it’s a tender sound, and then smiles at you. “Well… I managed until you came around. You…” he coughs, struggling to confess, “you distracted me a bit, so I think you’re better than me at this socializing and rocking your career at the same time thing.”

You laugh. “I distracted you?”

“Just a bit, don’t get too excited,” he warns, falling deeper into the mattress and laying in silence. You have your thoughts tormenting you, but for him, it’s no different. He knows his plan failed. You’ve been filling his thoughts, days and seconds for a few months now. Even when he was studying or recording, somehow, you were always there. At first, for spite, surely, but then, it turned into something else. Hate turned into teasing, teasing turned into lust, and lust turned into something more. He knows he doesn’t just simply want you or need you. He craves you and your company, your study sessions together, your smart talks, your witty words, your annoyed eye-roll when he’s right, and the soft eyes when you listen to him. He craves you and your laugh, the suppressed one during lessons and the loud one when you are alone, or your hidden smirk when he makes you smile even if you don’t want to.

He constantly comes back to you.

“Are you listening or are you avoiding me?” You ask when he doesn’t reply to your question and he shakes his head, mumbling an apology.

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

You chuckle. “It’s alright, it was a bitter question anyway.”

“No come on, ask me again.”

“It was just for fun. I wanted to know if I was the reason why you’ve been doing a bit worst than me lately,” you say. There’s no mockery in your tone, instead it’s light and hides a timid blush as the words roll down your tongue.

Donghyuck’s body shuffles next to yours and only then you realize how intimately close you are, with your legs almost intertwined, his hand still on your stomach and his face resting on your chest. “Well, yes, you were an unexpected presence in my life, so…”

“So…?” You laugh. “Am I so hot I got you horny all the time?” You joke but he doesn’t crack a smile, instead he furrows and stands up to sit on the bed with his arms crossed.

“I’m not that horny,” he murmurs.

Your body mirrors his, and then your hands lift his chin up. “Sorry, I was kidding. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t think you thought about me that much. I wanted to be on top but not like this.”

“Technically, you’re not on top of everything, but anyway, we just spent a lot of time together, you know? So different studying methods and so on, shocked me a bit.”

You raise a brow, not because you’re so pretentious to think you distracted him that much, but because you think you learned to read him a bit and he’s not being honest at all. “Sure, and you weren’t busy thinking of me after our… dates? Coming home and texting me, and telling me how you should’ve been between my thighs instead?”

He blushes, and you can’t believe your eyes. “It only happened once, and either way I never study at night, my pretty brain can’t handle it.”

You laugh. “Your brain is pretty, now?”

“Yeah, of course, everything about me is pretty.” He shrugs.

“You’re a bit of a liar, you know? First telling me I distracted you and then taking it back, but it’s alright, I think we settled this war. We’re equal now, right?”

“I guess you could say that.”

You huff rolling your eyes. “You’re so competitive, God.” You fall on the mattress again. “But maybe it’s good, we can keep this healthy and competitive.”

He hums, thinking about it and then nods. But you don’t expect him to cage you with his body as he sits on top of you and reduces the distance between you. “Doesn’t sound bad, we could try.”

You smile, trying to act nonchalantly, but it’s hard when he’s so close; hair a mess, face tired but still so fucking handsome, and plump lips so temptingly close to yours.

“I want you,” you whisper, looking straight into his eyes even if they make your knees buckle.

“I want you, too,” he replies before diving in and kissing you.

The last weeks before finals are hectic. You and Donghyuck spend all the time studying together. When you’re not locked in the library you’re either at your or his place, and most of the time you end up sleeping over with the excuse of “spending just a few minutes together without thinking about exams.”

Yet, none of you confess anything. Your relationship lingers in that limbo.

In all that chaos, what takes you more time is the songwriting project. You spend days in the studio to record and mix it. Then when you are done, you move to the studio with Jeno to shoot the concept photos. And it would been enough for the exam, but you and Donghyuck just have to go an extra mile, making an entire booklet with the photos and the lyrics inside, the physical CD with the track, the instrumental, and an acapella version.

Even if the shooting is long and tiring, since you have to style and do each other’s make-up, and the only help is from Renjun, you have a lot of fun.

If at the start you feel a bit insecure with the poses, Donghyuck is the perfect partner to have to feel at ease. And Jeno knows how to do his job, making you feel like a queen after the first awkward shots.

“I love how the photos turned out,” Jeno cheers happily on your way to their place. “The three of you are the perfect models. I will annoy you again to build my portfolio.”

Renjun rolls his eyes as his head slams against the bus window.

You chuckle. “Come on, Jun,” you say, pinching his cheek. “You had fun too, you can’t deny that. Also, you got so many beautiful photos for free, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Free? I’d like to remind you I helped you pay for the rent,” he retorts, sitting straight again. “But yeah, I had fun,” he admits, making Jeno clap happily. “But, I will do this again only if she comes with us.”

Jeno bats his eyes at you and you snicker. “Yes, if I am what he needs to be dragged into the studio, I will come with you.”

“I love you,” Jeno screams, hugging you tight. When you hug him back, you make eye contact with Donghyuck, but he swiftly turns his head. Not quick enough to hide he’s not enjoying this so much; jaw tense, fingers closing in a fist.

You find his jealousy of Jeno quite interesting. Even if it’s true you got very close to him, it’s hilarious how Donghyuck thinks anything would happen between you two when Jeno is clearly taken by someone else; someone too busy plotting his murder to realize his feelings, but that’s another matter.

And Donghyuck shows his jealousy even more when, once at home, you sit around the table to watch Jeno post-produce the photos and create the mock-up for the entire project with your supervision.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as he keeps his leg pressed against yours, and you have to hold back a chuckle. Yes, it’s obvious there’s nothing between you and Jeno, but this makes you feel wanted, and you let him show it.

You know you’ll have to deal with other menaces tomorrow; a hangout is already scheduled in the group chat with the girls after a quick text sent right away by Yeri. You love her, you do, but without that, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have four other pairs of eyes set on you — Jaemin and Yangyang are very curious when they want to.

“Are you listening?” Jeno’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You blink twice and then mumble, “what?”

He shakes his head. “Do you like the font?”

“Oh,” you whisper. Your eyes adjust again on the screen that you were mindlessly staring at and focus on the project. “Yeah, I love it.”

“We were thinking of not putting our name on it since it’s more trendy lately,” Donghyuck says.

You nod. “Yeah, I think it’s better like this. I also love the picture, I think it would be more powerful without the name on it but we’re not that famous, yet,” you joke making them laugh.

“That’s why I didn’t make it too big, so the focus would be on you two.”

“Love it, that's perfect,” you praise. “Honestly, seeing it all almost done, I feel guilty for not giving you anything.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s alright. I’m having fun doing this and can put it in my portfolio anyway. I did much worse and less fun for some courses.”

“We will offer you a dinner,” Donghyuck says. “Somewhere cheap, though.”

After a few hours, everything is almost done. Jeno still wants to double-check everything tomorrow before sending it to be printed but the final results won’t differ much.

“So, I think we should celebrate the project that brought you two so close,” Ningning says, winking at the last words, before raising an empty cup.

You chuckle, trying to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but it’s still firm on you. “It’s just a Uni project, there's nothing to celebrate.”

“Well, mine and Mark’s is not that good,” Yangyang snorts. “I don’t understand why you two always want to do so much extra work but whatever makes you happy.”

“We love the song,” Donghyuck replies. “And we’re proud of it so we might as well fool ourselves it might get more than 30 listens on SoundCloud.”

“For me,” Ningning says, “this is huge. One day you’ll be famous and we will get to say we were here from the start, so we need to treat ourselves and party.”

“Yes, let’s treat ourselves to the cheapest pizza on the block. Oh, how I love being an adult,” Yeri huffs, slumping on the couch. “No, but really, this is something to celebrate.” She then moves closer to you so that only you can hear. “And maybe if we get you drunk enough we’ll get juicy info before tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Fine, order these pizzas and let’s celebrate.”

The girls don’t get you drunk enough to spill anything but get themselves drunk enough that Jaemin has to drive them back to their place. Truthfully there’s nothing to say anyway. You and Donghyuck still didn’t talk, you didn’t even have sex lately. Too busy with everything, that was the last of your thoughts. But you did sleep together and basically lived in symbiosis. So?

You should feel happy about this project. Academically it will be another success, and honestly, one of your best works so far. So why do you feel this emptiness in your chest now that you’re sitting on a chair in Donghyuck’s bedroom?

This is the end. Now nothing holds you two together, and you fear that what you built over these months might not be strong enough for you to still hang out with you. You wonder if this meant anything to him. Sure, he likes you, but how much? Sex means nothing, and even if said between the lines, he got you to try out romantic things to make you come up with the song. And he succeeded. You have the song, the lyrics you tried so hard to put down. Fake dates, fake flirts, fake everything, but everything you put down is real. And it’s terrifying.

So absorbed by your torments, you don’t see Donghyuck stare at you, standing in front of you changed into fresh clothes.

“Hey.” His voice makes you flinch in surprise and quickly look up at him. There’s a frown on his face. “What’s with that face?”

You shrug, diverting the eye contact.

“Are you not happy with the result?” Donghyuck asks, grabbing the closest chair so he can sit right in front of you.  

“No, I love it. I loved everything so much and that’s why I’m sad.” There are many reasons why, and you’re not a master at dealing with too many emotions at once. Subjects? Books? Essays? Projects? They can fall and pile up on you and you won’t feel the weight of it. But real life? Feelings? Not where you excel.

“Cause you won’t have any excuses to spend time with me and see me?” He teases, chuckling. He’s still the same person you met one year ago but behind his playful voice and acts there’s something tender, at least you like to see it this way.

“Uhm, I hope we will keep seeing each other,” you confess shyly, doing everything in your power to not meet his warm gaze. His hands on his lap are a beautiful view now. “But no…”

His teasing smirk turns apprehensive. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shrug. This should be the easy thing to confess. A bit humiliating considering showing some weakness to him still feels like letting your mortal enemy pour salt in your open wounds, but you’re hiding more vulnerable things from him.  

“Nothing but… I was so sure I didn’t want to be a singer, and I was more and more sure of working in Pr, and now… I don’t know. I loved writing the song, like I always do, but this time felt different, as if… that’s what I’m supposed to do in my life, you know?” You look up because even if you can’t take a mocking look you have to see his reaction.

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “I think you’re good at it so yeah, you should.”

You’re taken aback by that reply. Deep down you wanted him to shred your dreams cause you feel like all of this is insane, and if you have nobody supporting you maybe you won’t indulge in it. But it’s clear that Donghyuck is not an enemy anymore and has your back now.  

“Yeah but… I loved singing and doing it with you. Being in the studio, recording, but even before when we were working on the melody and everything. And working on the concept? We did all that with just one song, can you imagine what working on an album feels like?”

He smiles and nods. “Well, yeah, I fantasized about it a lot, so yes. But why is it a problem? Why can’t you pick this as a career?”

You can see in his eyes that he’s confused. Not by your change of path, but by your sudden insecurity. Deep down you’re shocked by that too. You have changed goals a few times in your academic career but somehow this feels so different.

“Cause it’s rare to make it,” you mutter, nervously playing with your hands. Truth is, the chances of failure are so big, and you’re not sure you could take it. You and your perfectionism and your need to succeed on the first try.  

“Can’t say you’re wrong, it’s hell out there, but… you’re good, and beautiful, and I’m sure that with your songwriting skills and your voice, someone will notice you.”

He had tried to make a name for himself longer than you, he knows it. During some vulnerable night conversation where you showed him your songs, he told you how many demos he had sent, and how hard he tried to build something at least on the socials. So you don’t care if his words are driven by sympathy, he could discourage you, but instead, he’s supportive, and that’s all you need.

“And what am I without your production? Will you be my Jack Antonoff?”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’d prefer to be your Aaron Dessner.”

“Yeah, fine. I like that Haechan,” you say, highlighting that name that now sounds foreign.

“I don’t want to hear that name roll from your lips anymore,” he chuckles and you hum laughing.   

“Talking about lyrics,” he says after a few seconds, the phrase lingers in the air… “this song was interesting.”

“Interesting? What do you mean? Is it bad?” Your eyes widen and the anxiety that left you jumps at you again.

He shakes his head. “I said interesting, not bad. You should know the difference.”

“It’s not funny, interesting means nothing.”

He chuckles. “Some phrases are interesting… that’s it. They look familiar.”

You feel your body burn up in flames and you have to shift your gaze from him. You should’ve scrapped that, he isn’t dumb. (You believed he was up until two seconds ago, but apparently, he was just waiting for the right moment to trap you.)

“I wonder if something, or someone,” he winks, “inspired you.”

“The sea. When we went there together. The sea inspired me,” you whisper swiftly, nervously biting the inside of your cheek. “That’s why I called it wave.”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’m not talking about the title, and you know it,” he says, resting his hand on your knee. “Flow that I’ve never felt before? Meeting you through distinctive distraction is a miracle?”

“You told me you liked it,” you say, playing innocent.

He rolls his eyes. “I do. I love it, actually. I just wanted to analyse it with you.”

You gulp when his fingers start rubbing on your skin. “We should’ve done it before recording it, don’t you think?”

He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I want to do it now. I think I already know who inspired you.”

“The sea —”

“Drop it,” he retorts sternly, squeezing your knee. “I think our plan worked. Well, unless you found someone else who inspired you to write a love song.”

“It’s barely a love song,” you stutter, body heating up.

“Right, some lyrics felt sexy,” he giggles. “You’re such a master in holding me here and there and going up and up down and down again.”

You try to scoot away, but he blocks you by putting his feet under the leg of the chair. “So what? Also, you’re dirty-minded, that’s not what it means…”

He snickers, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Why are you so flustered then?”

“Cause you’re too close to me, I can barely breathe.”

“Mhh… it reminds me of something.”

You roll your head back and mutter a curse under your breath. “Isn’t it what you wanted? To inspire me? I did it. I romanticized everything and we got the song.”

“Romantized everything,” he hums. “In this wave called you that’s pushing in, I fall in love. You are the center of my heart. Feeling new, feel now. The wave that started because of you, babe. Dive into the world called you. Damn, your creativity is so good, you are talented.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, I…” he sighs annoyed. “If you wrote it down in a song, why can’t you say it to my face?”

You gulp. “I have nothing to tell you.”

He raises a brow. “So you’re still confused. Should I satisfy you to hear you say it?”

You hide your face in your hands and groan. “Fine,” you snap. “I — I wrote that about you. And I, God, this is humiliating. You heard the song, you sang it. Do you want me to say it out loud? Was that not enough?”

Donghyuck smiles, and, for a moment, you fear he will break into a mocking laugh, but instead, his smile gets bigger. “Yes, I knew it,” he screams.

“Oh… of course it’s funny to you, maybe this is what you wanted all along, make me fall in love and then make fun of me.”

“Fall in love?” He whispers, stopping in his tracks to look at you, and only then you realise you said it loud and clear. And it’s worse than saying it in a song. “You love me seriously? Like it’s not just attraction and maybe liking me?”

You feel like choking up on tears but try not to show it. “So you can laugh at me more?”

“Why would I laugh at you? I just want to know if what you feel is real,” he replies, and somehow he sounds even more annoyed than before.

You hum and nod, no words can leave your mouth.

“Did you really think I would use this against you? Don’t you trust me?”

“I — I… I don’t know, okay? I do, but also, this was… this was all fake, just to write that song and now it’s real. And it was never supposed to be real, and maybe you never wanted me, cause I’m not your type and you hated me and we both wanted this to be over and now I feel like I can barely breathe without you, and I know that in the song I said I would’ve left the decision in your hands but the idea of you not wanting me back makes me sick and I —”

Your words fall into a void as he kisses you with no hesitation. Hands cupping your wet face and holding the back of your neck to keep you close.

“You’re so fucking stupid. So, so smart and yet such an idiot when it comes to feelings,” he chuckles when he pulls away. “You said I was an unexpected thing that completely changed your flow but do you have any idea of what you were to me? You ruined my second year,” he confesses, and your face quickly shifts into a worried expression, but he clears your doubts right away.  

“I thought I could beat you, I thought I could have the upper hand and… you messed up my days and nights. I thought you couldn’t fill up so much of my time when I already had so many friends but, fuck, I was wrong. And instead of distracting you, I let you distract me.”

“But I — I didn’t plan it, I didn’t want to —”

His thumb shushes you as his eyes crease in a smile. “You didn’t do anything, I just miscalculated. I didn’t know the amazing person you are, and let jealousy consume me before love took its place without me even noticing.”

You almost gasp. “Love? So, you do love me back?”

He nods. “Strong word, I know. But goddam, you were ten times cheesier in the song.”

You laugh and he does the same.

“But I am hurt, though. I can’t believe you thought I was playing you.”

“What were the chances you were going to fall for me, too? Nobody ever falls for me.”

“Good thing you only needed me to fall for you,” he says, kissing you. “So… did you fall for me at the beach?”

“I was confused back then. I knew I felt something but I didn’t know what it was. I thought it was only attraction, but at the same time, I felt like I needed you, you know?”

“And to think I wasn’t even sure of taking you there,” he giggles.

“Really?”

He nods. “I wanted to study, I already felt like I was falling behind and I thought I could use those three days to catch up, but then you crossed my mind and I forgot about the rest.”

You look down to hide the big smile on your face. No, you’re not happy you almost made him fail his second year in this war, but you love knowing how much he cares about you. The old Donghyuck would’ve never confessed this, he would’ve never shown how weak you make him. But now he’s proudly telling you how you genuinely occupied his thoughts.

“I know I didn’t show signs of failure, but you did succeed in your plan just a bit.”

He snorts. “Don’t need fools gold.”

“No, I’m serious. I mean, maybe you’re right, you didn’t, but I think you succeeded in something better. You showed me I can achieve my academic goals and still live life. You showed me so much. I had fun on my own, and I loved it, but I also only had myself and nobody to count on, and that sucks.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Yes you did, you pushed me out of my comfort zone and trust me, I did panic sometimes. I just hide it better. But you gave me the chance to meet seven amazing people allowing me in your friend’s group. Some of you have known each other for so long, that’s probably when I should’ve put my heart at ease and realised you truly cared about me.”

“You fail to understand how likeable you are. Everybody loves you, you just don’t pay them attention.”

You shrug. He’s probably right. You never cared about that, but you won’t start caring about it now. You found your people, you found your place.

Staying at his place for the night is tempting, but, truth be told, you two want to be on your own on your first night as lovers. So, with the excuse of wanting to eat an ice cream (not an excuse, you will eat ice cream), you slip out of the place.

The others don’t care. Honestly, it’s clear that everyone except you two was expecting this ending, but you will deal with this tomorrow at lunch with the girls. For now, you chuckle at Jeno’s wink before he rests his head on Renjun’s shoulder again, who barely waves goodbye before going back to the movie they’re watching. Mark seems to be the only one confused at the way your arms are linked when you walk through the living room, but you’re sure that Yangyang, who has a teasing smirk on his face, will fill him in as soon as you’re out of the door. Jaemin will sneak at the girls’ hang-out tomorrow, his face lets it all known.

“I love this place,” Donghyuck says when you enter your apartment.

“Really? This hole?” You chuckle, leaving your bag at the door and getting rid of your shoes.

He nods. “It’s cosy and quiet, and I get to have you all to myself.” Before he finishes the phrases he pulls you in his hold, almost making you lose your balance and you scold him.

“Can you be less clumsy?”

“Mhh... no.”

“Also, it’s not like not being alone ever stopped you from being the clingiest man on earth.”

He huffs, throwing his head back as he slowly starts walking backwards to reach the bed. “As if you don’t like it.”

“You got us many suspicious looks,” you complain.

“Girl, everybody knew about us,” he says, falling on the bed with you. “I fear they were betting on a situationship but well, we didn’t do anything to keep this on the low.”

You shrug. “Whatever,” you say, caressing his face to move the hair on his eyes. “I don’t care. Tonight I just want to think about us.”

“Now you’re talking,” he hums happily. “Can I get a chocolate-less kiss?”

You laugh. “You can get all the kisses you want.”

Your lips connect to his to start a sweet kiss that lasts for a while. You never truly pull away as your hands start moving on each other to get rid of the clothes and leave you half-naked on the bed.

“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs, rolling around so your back is on the mattress before he starts going down. His fingers hook with the band of your panties and pull them down. “A bush?”

You huff. “I was just a bit busy, and didn’t have time to shave.”

“Good. I hope you don’t find time to do it ever again,” he says making you laugh.

“You like it?” You ask.

“I love it,” he replies.

You don’t have time to react because his lips are on you as soon as he's done talking. Your hips buck up and you fail to hold back the moans.

Donghyuck takes his sweet time, licking up stripes to get you wet before he starts sucking on your hardening clit.

Your head rolls back against the pillow and your hands can’t help but tangle in his hair to pull him closer. The groan of pleasure that comes out of his mouth at your gesture makes you tremble.

“So fucking sweet for me,” he mumbles against you. “My sweet girl.”

A dumb grin curls your lips and your eyes try to open to get a glimpse of him. You regret that action cause his pretty face smashed against you as he eats you out as if you're his last meal sends shivers straight to your core.

“Please,” you whimper, making him open his eyes to stare at you. Your throat tightens and you feel like you might pass out from that, but still force yourself to finish the phrase. “Don’t stop, you’re so good. I — I never felt like this.”

He grins, pulling away only to reply. “Yeah? Am I that good?”

You groan. He’s still so competitive and always has to prove a point. But you don’t care. That’s fun. That’s what you love about him. “Yes, you’re that good. Just please, keep doing it.”

“Never planned of stopping.”

When his mouth starts moving on you again you see stars. Your neck falls behind, enjoy the softness of the pillow, and you stop trying to keep it together, moaning loudly and chanting his name.

His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you close to his mouth. And each flick of his tongue pushes the climax closer, making you see stars.

Your breath gets messier as you hit your peak and pleasure takes over your body as you let go to that blissful sensation running inside you.

You’re still gasping for air when you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, slowly entering you.

“Hyuck, what are you—?”

“I want you to be ready for me,” he says. “I won't make you come another time, I promise. Just getting you wetter.”

You mumble a sound that makes no sense before you decide to relax and enjoy the sensation. It’s not like you would ever complain about his fingers, you simply don’t want to be too sensitive already. But he’s true to his words, his two fingers fuck into you, curling up right on your sweet spot, turning you on more and coating them white.

“Always so good for me,” he praises when he pulls out, sucking them harshly before he leans in to kiss you. Your hands wrap in his hair as you pull him closer, letting your legs wrap around his waist to pull him down. “Damn, calm down,” he chuckles close to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know, but I want you close.”

Donghyuck smiles. “Unhook your legs for a moment and I’ll be as close as possible.”

Reluctantly, you do as ordered, knowing that as soon as he’ll slip in, your legs will be exactly in the same place.

You barely pay attention when he does, too focused on the gentle kisses he's leaving on the crown of your head, cheeks and neck. Your eyes only open when he bottoms in and brings your legs around himself.

“Happy now?” He asks, brushing behind a few strands of hair that fell on your face.

“More than happy,” you reply smiling. Your body moves on its own when your hips buck up against him, eliciting a deep moan to slip past his lips.

That’s the sign he needs to know he can start moving. One hand places on your waist to keep you in place and the other supports his body as he starts dragging his hips out.

You can feel your heart skip a beat when he leans down and hides in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “You always smell so good, that’s what tricked me to always be close to you,” he mumbles, nibbling your skin.

You chuckle, shaking your head. Even now he has something to say. Still, his words don’t distract him from his actions. With each stroke, he hits deep inside of you, hitting sensitive spots that make your toes curl and your fingers close into fists on the sheets.

After finding the perfect angle, Donghyuck starts speeding up, his thrusts not harsh but fast enough to build up a steady rhythm. And, with each one, you feel a wave of pleasure invading you.

“Come here,” you whisper, cupping his face to pull him close. “Wanna kiss you.” Your lips are on his right away and you both let go to a long passionate kiss as the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. One hand leaves his face to run on his back, feeling his muscles flex.

Your moans get louder with every passing second but they end up muffled in the messy kiss you’re still sharing.

When his hand sneaks between your bodies, so he can touch your clit in quick circular motions, you know you won’t last much longer. Your walls clench hard around him, and more wetness coats him as your hips buck up for more friction. And the last drop comes from his lips, leaving yours to wrap around your sensitive nipples.

“Hyuck,” your voice trembles as you call for him. Pleading eyes looking up at him. You should say something sex-related, maybe praise how good he’s making you feel, or how close you are, but even if those are the thoughts on the tip of your tongue, the words that come out are completely different. “I love you,” you whisper in a hush, feeling the weight disappear from your chest. Saying it clearly is like finally coming to the real realization.

Donghyuck smiles, kissing you repeatedly on the lips. “I love you, too.”

And soon after, you both reach your peak. The pleasure shoots through your bodies like fireworks in the sky.

You stay like that for a few minutes, kissing each other as you wait for your bodies to calm down.

When he slips out of you gently, putting his shirt under your body to avoid a mess, you still have a dumb, but content, smile on your face.

You don’t have the energy to move, so you lay there as you watch him move around to grab new clothes and two glasses of water. Just the time to pull yourself together, and you’re once again under the bedsheets, cuddled up against each other. You relax at the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on the back of your neck and let his heartbeat be a sweet melody.

Mamma Mia is playing on the TV, but none of you has much energy to sing along to ABBA’s songs —he has a bit more than you as he hums the words.

When he chuckles, you look up at him.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, staring at the tv with a frown on your face. The SOS scene not being exactly one of the funniest one.

“I was thinking about us,” he says.

“I do hope we won’t end up like this.”

“Yeah, no, but you ended up being my Waterloo, I guess,” he whispers, looking at you. And then you get it, remembering when he sang it to you.

“I told you,” you reply, making him gasp offended. “What? You expected me to say something nice? You mocked me, you bragged and I cursed you with eternal love for me.”

Donghyuck laughs and then wraps his arms around you to pull you flatter against him, resting his chin on your head.

“You know this doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to beat you, right?” He chuckles, but when you lift your gaze, getting a glimpse of him, you see his serious expression. And you hope he's true to his intention and that that spark set by your ambition will never die.

You smile smugly before relaxing against his warm embrace. “Yeah, but we’ll see if I’ll let you.”

YEARS LATER

“Is everything alright? Why are you looking at us like this?” You ask, shifting on your seat on the couch, looking at the girl in front of you.

“Is it true?”

“What?” Donghyuck says.

“Is it true that you two couldn’t stand each other?” She says, big brown eyes staring at you with curiosity.

You quirk a brow, giving your full attention to your daughter. “Why this sudden question?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing to see tweets of people going insane over you two, but also I think it’s unfair how these strangers seem to know more about my parents than me.”

You and Donghyuck laugh. “And what do they say?"

She rolls her eyes. “That they can’t believe you hated each other and that you started dating her to distract her but ended up falling for her?”

You look at each other smirking before a tender, nostalgic smile takes its place.

“Would it be so terrible?” He asks, tilting his head.

She thinks about it for a moment and then replies. “It would be a bit embarrassing for you, Dad. But also... cute. So?”

“I’d say it’s true,” he replies, shrugging.

“Wait, so you really started dating because you hated each other?” She screams, sitting straight on the loveseat, leaning toward you with her body.

You chuckle. “We didn’t hate each other. We believed we could outdo the other. And your father did too much, as always.”

“You were miserable before me,” Donghyuck replies, tightening his hold around your waist. “I had a plan, and it would’ve worked.”

You roll your eyes. “Imagine thinking you could make me fall in love and not fall in love with me,” you say to your daughter. “I was a real heartbreaker back then.”

“You still are,” she replies, smiling. “My friends go insane every time they realize who my parents are.”

Your daughter never brags about being your child. The famous singer, producer, and dancer Haechan, and you, who had a good launch as a singer before you realized that wasn’t your world and decided to stick to be a choreographer and PR manager (well, mostly Donghyuck’s choreographer and his manager). But everyone close to her knows who she is, and it’s not easy to act nonchalantly about it.

She has heard many stories about you two. The gossip about your story running wild since you broke into the industry. But you never sat down and explained it to her, not until now.

“We still have our charm,” Donghyuck laughs.

“I think the most important thing is your love and that you might be the best parents in the world. But I’m saying it officially only if you don’t turn it into a race.”

“Us? Turning something into a competition? We would never,” Donghyuck jokes.

She rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. And you can’t help but smile thinking how similar to your husband she looks right now.

“Honey, forgive us. How do you think we’re still having so much fun after all these years? That’s how we thrive, we learned how to push each other healthily.”

“Yeah, fine, I’m glad your love story is still perfect, but seriously, no competition when it comes to me. I love you both so much.”

“Come here,” you say, patting the space in front of you on the couch. Hugging her when she sits down between you two. “You are the only thing we won’t turn into a competition.”

Donghyuck hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around you two. “We both won with you.”

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

@jaeymark, @hqech, @xntlax, @milkyway-vxm, @fullsunahceah,

@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun, @shxnz

@haecastor, @hyucksaint, @sk8ermark, @midnightrained

@maiteeeeesstuff, @smwhrinthehaze, @yoursyuno

© neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 

[katzebruh]

Omg i would love to hear more about your kwamii swap au!

Oh, you're unleashing a beast. I don't know how to shut up about it, I'll try to keep it to the point without senseless yapping akjdkac

- I call it my "Accidentally Swapped AU", basically Marinette and Adrien were supposed to get their original miraculous but Master Fu accidentally gave them the wrong boxes

- The love square isn't reversed, Marinette is in love with Adrien, and Mr. Bug is in love with Lady Noire. (Though neither is taken to the extreme the show takes it, they are just regular kids with crushes) Not are their personalities, I've never understood why in so many swap AU's they change their personalities (No shade!! It just was never my vibe) Mr. Bug behaves like Chat did at first, he sees it as freedom, though in my AU with time he tones down quite a bit. (I actually did write a lil fic that shows their dynamic a bit, I'll upload it at some point on AO3)

- Lady Noire overall just isn't having a good time to be honest, I'm making public opinion be a bit harsher, people are easily influenced by fear and destruction can be pretty scary (It gets better though, but I just really like angst)

- Season 4-5 Chloé doesn't exist because what the hell was that

- Lila is a menace, but not because everyone drops their IQ when she's around (I refuse to make Mari's friends believe Lila so easily like in the show)

- My AU is more focused on Marinette because she's just my favourite, considering how goated she is in the show I wanted there to be an actual reason for it so I absolutely just bs'd up an explanation and made up a thing called a "True Holder", which is what Marinette is. It's why she didn't just cease into dust when using so many miraculous at the same time, and why she doesn't perish (although there are serious consequences) when unifying Plagg and Tikki. Other holders can still unify but not everyone, and for a very limited amount of time, I didn't like how they established that unifying was this big deal then everyone could casually do it so I wanted to change that

There's so much more but I fear I'm going into yap territory rn, I'll answer any question about it though! Well to the best of my ability, I don't have this written down anywhere

[lordpheles]

Chapter 153: Backstories galore...

IBLIS

She gave us quite the monologue. She talks about her obsession with beauty, perfection and the fear of growing old. Sounds like Hachiro, no? She takes us back in time to a classical Mayan civilization with temples like Chichen Itza.

She uses seduction to kill men, uses humans. For kicks in her human body she eventually conceives a child. What I find interesting, she appears to love the boy. They have good times by the looks of the imagery. But when the child gets old she is forced to kill him. Ibis acts like it doesn't effect her at all, but I don't believe it. Demons blow off their emotions, but maybe she killed him out of empathy for his pain? We honestly don't know the details.

She said he killed him because he was weak but I think it's a lie. I think she's sided with Lucifer to end all humans because she never got over the hurt of loving a human son and losing him. This is her way of avoiding the deep emotional pain of bonding with creatures that do not have an eternal life.

We do know that Iblis also has a fixation on Egyn. The little boy demon the never grows old, that sounds like baggage to me. He's like a surrogate son. Demons fear growing old and being in pain. But they also fear loss, and the loneliness of an eternal life.

It also begs the question, did Iblis have the kid naturally? She doesn't look pregnant in any of the images. The mystery of demon child conception continues...

Demons and Liu are afraid of senior citizens.

Iblis hates Lucy because she's old and wise, she's terrified of people growing old and terrified of the old. Lucy rattles her.

Liu is also rattled by Lucy. We get a flashback of his life and Lucy has been holding the seat of power from his family. They said she stole all the power and magical secrets from their clan, but I doubt that. I bet this was like the Shima family when the demon Yamataka unexpectantly chose Shima....demons have unique preferences of whom they choose to be in a contract with.

When you see the way the Liu clan was run, it's training was based on draconian demon hatred. Sort of the same mentality as young Shiro had. He didn't collaborate with demons and instead sought to destroy every, single one. It's sad really. The only friend Shiro had, and the only reason why Shiro lived into adulthood was because of Mephisto's help. Shiro relied on a demon.

The strongest exorcists get their power and assistance from a collaboration with demons. True intelligence is finding not just violent ways to vanquish the enemy but to see how the enemy ticks. To see if violence isn't always the answer. Demons, like humans are shaped by their experiences and bad experiences warp their worldview. Demons are such powerful creatures that act out their angst. Unfortunately humans tend to be the victims of that retaliation.

When Lucy finally dies (again), she jokes that Liu is too scared to take her place. And he is highly offended by this. Ibis might be afraid of Lucy, but Liu doesn't want to be lumped in with demons.

But he is scared.

Lucy is right.

She also gives him a bit of parting advice.

Even demons have dreams.

They are not as different from humans as we think they are.

This is all the arc knights. Lightning and Lucy openly acknowledge the importance of understanding demons, Angel is still in denial, but it's the truth.

We all know from the manga that collaboration with demons seems to be a better option for a strong exorcist. The strongest exorcists do not see demon relationships as black and white, but more like situationships with a variety of subtexts.

Once Lucy dies, Liu doesn't believe anything she's said and charges into battle to destroy the torch. It looks like he was successful, but we will need to wait until the next chapter to find out. I bet there is a surprise waiting for him that he didn't consider.