#please and thank you i need them for art project
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intense-magnet-enthusiast ¡ 1 month ago
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if anyone knows of more references to stained glass in bears in trees songs i am searching for more please
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domjaehyun ¡ 2 months ago
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i ❤️ hot nerds (l.dh, n.jm)
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PAIRING. pervert!nerd!haechan, pervert!nerd!jaemin x popular!fem!reader  GENRE. smut, slight fluff CONTENTS. explicit smut (kissing, fingering, oral (receiving), titfucking, breast play, lots of drool and spit, overstimulation, snowballing, dirty talk, rimming, anal play, missionary, riding, mating press, breeding/creampies) WORD COUNT. 8.7k SUMMARY. when your professor pairs you with the two smartest students in your class for a group project, you find yourself making an interesting deal with them. or, alternatively: the one where you have to help two nerds learn to get girls so you can pass your class. PLAYLIST. n/a NOTES. remember when i said i was up to something with these two? this is it! teehee :3 i hope you enjoy!!
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“Professor Kwon, I really need to pass this class,” you say with a worried frown, and she nods in understanding, reaching over to pat your hand gently.
“I’ll see if I can scrape up any extra credit assignments for you to do, but in the meantime, you can try and do your best on the group project coming up. It’s worth thirty percent of your grade, and if you want, I can pair you up with some of the stronger students in the class to help ensure you get a good grade.” she offers helpfully, and your face lights up with a relieved smile as you nod.
“I would love that,” you gush gratefully. “Thank you so much, Professor Kwon! I really appreciate all your help.” You can tell from her kind expression that she knows your words are sincere, and it warms your heart that she’s been so helpful and generous.
“No worries, dear. I’ll email you tonight with some extra credit assignments for you, okay?” she says, and you nod in agreement as you pack up your bags to leave her office hours.
“I’ll be waiting! Thank you again, and have a great rest of your day!” You chirp, slinging your bag over your shoulder before exiting her office.
As you head down the hall, you think about who, in your thirty-person class, she could possibly pair you up with that could help your grade.
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“Okay, class, I’m going to pair you up with your partners for the group project. Just a reminder—it is worth thirty percent of your grade, so please take this seriously. I would hate to have to fail any of you.” Professor Kwon says as she looks out at the classroom. 
Indistinct mutterings go around, and you look around as you contemplate who she might put you with. There’s Mark Lee, the sweet, endearingly bubbly English major in the year below you who’s also an RA for the building across from your dorm.
There’s Huang Renjun, the smart, quiet art major junior in the same year as Mark, and he could be a good partner, you suppose—
You’re dragged out of your reverie by the sound of your professor saying your name, followed by, “Lee Haechan, and Na Jaemin.”
Oh. Well, you’re certainly not upset by that development. You look across the room, where Jaemin and Haechan are sitting together, to see that they’re already looking over at you. Haechan smiles nervously and averts his gaze quickly, but Jaemin leans into the eye contact, giving you a small wave. 
You smile and wiggle your fingers back in greeting, making Jaemin grin and Haechan dissolve into excited giggles, the older male pushing his thick, black-rimmed glasses up on his nose absentmindedly.
Your professor finishes reading off the groups and waves her hands at you all, gesturing for you to get situated with your partners. You move to stand only to see that Haechan is rushing to stand up and make his way over to you, clutching his notebook and papers to his chest almost protectively.
Haechan and Jaemin are also the year below you, and you know them relatively well, given that you’re the RA for their dorm building—well, you know a bit about them: they live across the hall from you, they’re avid gamers, and, if you’re not mistaken, they’re two of the top students in the class.
You watch with an amused smile as Jaemin leisurely slings his bag over his shoulder, the cool, calm, and collected counterpart to your other partner, and they both make their way over to where you sit, Haechan sitting in the chair in front of you and turning it around to face you while Jaemin sits beside you.
“Hi,” Haechan greets quietly, and you shoot him a friendly smile.
“Hi, Haechan,” you reply sweetly, and his face breaks out into a brilliant, shy grin. 
“Hi.” he says again, and Jaemin snorts.
“You said that already.”
“Well, I’m saying it again.” Haechan counters, and you chuckle.
“Hi,” you say, “again.”
“...Hi.” he mumbles shyly, barely able to get the words out past his excited smile.
“Hi, Jaemin,” you greet, turning to look at the male beside you.
He shoots you a dazzling smile that makes you wonder, for a moment, how he even got the label of “nerd” everyone classifies him as. Haechan is a bit more understandable, given his general flustered nature around girls, but Jaemin’s always been calm and easygoing—you’d even go so far as to say he’s smooth. However, you suppose that after hearing Jaemin rant and rave about video games and the like, you can see why someone might label him as one even if you don’t find video games all that nerdy. 
“Hi,” he replies easily, lifting his eyebrows in greeting. It’s your turn to avert your gaze, the mildly suggestive gesture making you feel a little hot under the collar when you couple it with the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off of you.
“So, um,” you say, clearing your throat slightly, “I think we should meet up after classes today to talk about what we’re gonna do for our group project.”
“Okay,” Haechan agrees instantly, nodding vigorously. “We can meet up in the library? Or the cafeteria—or—well, maybe you’d wanna meet up somewhere private—” he starts to ramble, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, holding up a finger to stop him. He falls silent immediately, widened, slightly starstruck eyes gazing at you so intently you find yourself growing more endeared to him.
“Why would it matter if it’s in private or not?” you ask, brows furrowed, and Haechan nibbles at his bottom lip, exchanging a wordless glance with Jaemin. “Haechan?”
“In case you… y’know… don’t necessarily want to be seen with us.” he mumbles quietly, and you frown deeply. 
“Why would I not want to be seen with you?” you ask, already feeling like you know the answer.
“Because—” Haechan looks around the room to see if anyone’s paying attention to him before continuing, “because we’re nerds,” he says, whispering the word like it’s a slur, “and you’re—well, you know who you are.”
“How about you tell me who I am?” you press gently with a playful smile. “Just to refresh my memory.”
“You’re you. You’re one of the cool seniors—you’re one of the only RAs that everyone likes—and you’re…. y’know… popular.” Haechan whispers that word both like it’s a dream and a word that doesn’t belong in his mouth, and you won’t lie and say it doesn’t bother you slightly.
“Haechan.”
“Mm?” Haechan replies, and you drum your manicured nails on the table in front of you to stop his gaze from wandering furtively around the room. 
“First of all, this isn’t a stereotypical clique-y high school movie.” you chuckle. “I can be seen with anyone I want; it never mattered to me.”
“Okay,” he replies hesitantly, but you can sense some of the tension leaving his body as he gradually relaxes.
“Second of all: don’t call yourselves nerds like that—like it’s a label that actually matters. You’re just Haechan, and he’s just Jaemin, and I’m just me.” you finish carefully, and he cracks a smile, looking up from where your hands rest on the table to meet your gaze.
“Okay, cool.” he mumbles, smile growing as your words sink in.
“We can meet on the quad after class if you want,” you say, deliberately choosing the most public location you can think of.
“Well—” Jaemin cuts in, and you turn to look at him to see that he’s looking between you and Haechan. “There are no outlets on the quad… it’s just grass and some trees.”
“True,” you muse thoughtfully. “Where do you guys want to meet?”
“The dorm? Oh, but—” Haechan cuts himself off, shooting a panicked glance Jaemin’s way. “I don’t think my side of the room is presentable right now.”
“Okay,” you say with a laugh. “How about we meet in my room?” you offer, and Haechan’s eyes get so wide you fear he might hurt himself, while Jaemin’s brows shoot up in surprise. Looking between the two of them with growing amusement, you add on, “My last class ends at 4:30pm, and I can be back at my dorm by about 4:45pm, if that works for you guys.”
Neither of them speak for a moment, Haechan seemingly rooted in place with surprise, while Jaemin looks at him expectantly, eyes widening pointedly before he sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah, that works for us.” Jaemin answers finally, and you smile, nodding in confirmation.
“Great!”
“Class is over, everyone! Good luck on your projects, and I’ll see you next Wednesday!” Professor Kwon bids you all goodbye, and everyone starts to gather their things. 
“Well, I’ll see you guys then; you know where my room is!” you say, putting your notebook in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 
“See you later!” Jaemin replies easily, and Haechan nods as if to second Jaemin’s words.
“Bye, Haechan,” you say with a playful smile, finding it cute how flustered the male is by your attention.
“Bye,” he croaks weakly, and you giggle, turning to leave but not before catching a glimpse of Jaemin swatting Haechan’s arm in a scolding gesture.
“Would you relax? At least try to play it cool,” Jaemin whispers loudly from behind your retreating back.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it!” Haechan exclaims in a hushed voice. “She’s so pretty.”
You can’t help but smile widely to yourself as you keep walking, pretending you haven’t heard a thing.
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They’re perfectly on time—in fact, if your ears don’t deceive you, they’re five minutes early, the two of them standing outside and bickering quietly.
“Listen,” Jaemin says in a stern whisper, “you’re going to act normal when we get in there. No being weird and quiet and awkward.”
“Yes, sir,” Haechan replies sarcastically, and you snicker quietly. “You try staying calm when she looks at you with those eyes.”
“I do,” Jaemin replies flatly. “If you can’t… skill issue, I guess.”
“Wh— skill issue? I bet I’m skilled at putting my foot up your ass—”
“Shut up, she might be able to hear you!”
“Why don’t you knock, then? We can meet early.”
“Why don’t I knock?” Jaemin replies incredulously. “Why don’t you?”
“Why would I knock?”
“Why would I?! You’re the one all eager to see her.”
“I’m not that eager.” Haechan mumbles bitterly, and Jaemin scoffs.
“You showered to see her.”
“So did you!”
“I always shower after classes. You also put on cologne.”
“Well— Is it a crime to want to smell good in front of a pretty girl?”
“No, but it is a crime to act like a wuss when she so much as looks at you,” Jaemin snarks, and Haechan sucks his teeth.
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
There’s a brief scuffle on the other side, and you hear faint slapping sounds like they’re smacking each other back and forth, and you giggle softly, walking over to your door and waiting patiently. 
“Would you cut it out? Here–” Jaemin snaps, and three knocks sound out on the other side of your door. 
“Shit! Do I look okay?” Haechan worries.
There's silence before Jaemin replies. “No.”
“Fuck you.”
You decide to end their bickering and open your door, smiling at the two of them. “Hi, boys.”
“Hi,” Haechan mumbles shyly, and Jaemin elbows him, glaring at him.
“Hi,” Jaemin greets pleasantly, and you step aside to let them in.
“Make yourselves comfortable.” you offer, and they enter slowly, Haechan moving cautiously like you might change your mind at any moment. “I have snacks, water, and juice if you want anything to eat or drink.” 
“Oh, dope,” Haechan says eagerly, heading to your mini fridge and opening it, retrieving a blue Gatorade and plopping down on your fluffy pink rug. Jaemin takes a bag of chips from the basket on top of the fridge and sits beside Haechan so there’s room for you to sit across from them. 
You take a can of pineapple juice and frown down at the metal tab. “Can one of you open this? I don’t want to break a nail.”
“I’ll do it!” Haechan exclaims, leaning forward and taking it from you. He opens it with ease and hands it back to you, blushing when you smile gratefully and slip a straw into the opening.
“Thank you, Haechan,” you hum, and he smiles bashfully, nodding.
“You’re welcome.”
“So,” you say, sitting on your bed in front of them as you sip your drink. “What should we do our project on?”
“We were thinking we could do it on something cool, like…” Haechan says, trailing off towards the end and looking over at Jaemin with a clear request for help in his eyes.
Jaemin rolls his eyes slightly, sighs, and says, “Sex.”
You can’t help but smile slightly. “Sex is cool?”
“Well— well, I guess it’s not cool,” Haechan mumbles, unsure of himself, and you cross your leg over the other, watching as his eyes drop to the hem of your skirt, a latent hunger in them as he eyes your bare legs. “But something, like, trendy and relatable.”
“So sex is trendy?” You can’t refrain from teasing him slightly, admiring the way his cheeks flush. “It’s the cool, hip, new thing all the kids are getting into, huh?”
“Well—” Haechan stammers, and you hold up a hand to stop him, the male falling silent instantly and watching you intently.
“I’m just messing with you,” you assure him, and his shoulders slump in relief. “I’m okay with that! I just wanna be super transparent and let you guys know that my passing this class is riding on this grade for this project, so it’s really important to me. I’ll do my best to pull my weight, but I’m not doing as well as you guys, so—”
“We’ll do all the work,” Jaemin offers, and you stop short, blinking at him in surprise. 
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Haechan chimes in, pushing his glasses up his nose slightly. “You won’t have to lift a finger.”
“...Why?” you ask carefully, and they look at each other, now both a bit shifty. “Guys?”
“Hm?” Haechan asks, and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t meet your gaze, clearing your throat and waiting until he does.
“What’s in it for you?”
“Well… we were thinking we could trade services.” Jaemin interjects when it becomes evident that Haechan won’t be answering your question.
“Services?” you question, sitting forward slightly. Shifting your position, you cross your legs at the ankle instead, your knees falling apart slightly, and Haechan’s eyes zero in on the space between your legs, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he watches you. “Your service is helping me get an A, and my service is… what, exactly?”
“Um… we were thinking you could help us socially.” Jaemin says carefully, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.
“How?”
“Teach us how to get girls!” Haechan blurts out.     
“So, let me get this straight,” you say, looking between the two of them. “You’ll make sure we get an A on this project, and in return, I have to… help you get girls?”
“Teach us how to get girls,” Haechan stresses. “Don’t just help us get one girl.”
“What’s that quote? Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, but teach him how to fish and he’ll eat for a lifetime.” you recall proudly, and Jaemin nods, pleasantly surprised.
“Exactly,” Haechan confirms. “I’m trying to eat for a lifetime.”
“Noted,” you giggle, and you shrug before nodding. “I don’t see why not.”
Haechan pumps his fist and whispers some sort of victory affirmation that you don’t catch but Jaemin stands up, walking over to your bed, and extends his hand in offering, making you blink at it in confusion.
“Shake on it?” he says slowly, and your mouth makes a little “o” of realization as you nod in understanding, now reaching out to shake his hand. His lips curl into an unnerving yet attractive smile as he grips your hand and pulls you a little closer to whisper, “I can’t wait for our first lesson.”
Something about his intent, unwavering gaze and the way his fingers drag against your palm as you retract your hand—the longing of it all, the lingering touch like he doesn’t want to let go—has your mind reeling in that dizzying feeling from earlier, and you wonder for a minute just what you’ve gotten yourself into. 
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It’s been about a week of meeting up with Haechan and Jaemin every day to work on your project, and you’ve been giving tips and tricks on how to get girls every day, both boys studiously and dutifully hanging onto your every word.
“I have a question,” Haechan states about twenty minutes into your study session, and you look at him expectantly. “When do we get to the makeover portion?”
You make a small hum of confusion. “Makeover?”
“Yeah, where you style our hair and our wardrobe and get us contacts and stuff.” Haechan says eagerly, and you chuckle.
“Your wardrobes are completely fine, my only advice for your hair is to style it off your forehead more often, and I happen to like your glasses.” you reply, and Haechan sighs in mild impatience, waving his hand dismissively.
“You don’t get it—we need to be fuckable!” Haechan stresses, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.
“Haechan, you’re already fuckable.” you explain calmly, and he opens his mouth in preparation for some witty remark, but after processing your words, his eyes widen and his mouth hangs open uselessly, his accusingly pointed finger now pointing meekly at the floor at an angle. 
“I—So—so you would fuck us?” he stammers, and you nod slowly, looking from him to Jaemin.
“Why do you think I let you get away with your numerous dorm violations?” you snort in amusement, and he blinks hard.
“I thought you just took pity on us, y’know? Like you had a soft spot for nerds or something.”
“I don’t have a soft spot for nerds.” you answer. “I have a soft spot for hot nerds, though.”
His mouth opens and closes pathetically as his normally quick-witted brain scrambles to process the information you’ve just presented to him. Jaemin is quicker to act, sitting forward so suddenly the move could be considered as predatory, and you’re not sure if it’s the lighting reflecting off of his glasses or what, but there is most definitely a glint in his eye as he regards you, his lips gradually stretching into a toothy grin.
“So you let us get away with stuff? Because you like us? Like what?” he questions, and you tilt your head to the side as you think. 
“Your candles, for starters. Haechan’s tapestry, your many many noise complaints from your neighbors when you two get too heated as you’re gaming,” you start to list off on your fingers, and you cross one leg over the other, not missing the way both of their eyes shift to your newly exposed skin and how… hungry they look. “The way you—” you point at Haechan, “always try to get away with looking up my skirt.”
Haechan’s face flushes a pretty shade of red, and you smile, amused, as he scrambles to defend himself. Before he can, you hold up a hand to silence him. 
“Haechan?”
“Yes?” he replies meekly.
“If I minded, I would have said something by now. I certainly wouldn’t have kept wearing skirts and accidentally flashing you.” 
His eyes roll back into his head with a whimper and he nods in understanding. 
“And you—” you round on Jaemin, who’s still perched like a lion about to pounce, and the male just smiles wider, tilting his head to the side curiously.
“What about me?”
“You probably think you’re slick with the little lingering touches on my back and waist when you’re ‘trying to get by,’ but I only let you do that because I like it.”
His grin widens more than you even thought possible, the glint in his eye now unmistakable. “Oh, yeah? Where else do you like being touched?”
“I mean,” you hum, uncrossing your thighs and smiling as both of their gazes hone in on the space between your legs, “I could tell you, but I think you’d rather have me show you.”
“I have a better idea,” Jaemin murmurs, moving towards you slowly. “How about you let us find out?”
You pretend to think about it for a moment, relishing the way they look at each other with equally worried expressions as they silently pray you won’t back out, before you shrug nonchalantly. “Okay.”
No sooner than the last syllable’s left your mouth do they spring into action; Haechan clambers onto the bed beside you and Jaemin lunges forward to settle himself between your legs. Large, warm hands glide up your inner thighs, pushing them apart as he hikes your skirt up to reveal your light blue boyshorts. He moans loudly at the sight, immediately running his thumbs over your clothed mound, eyes flicking up to your face when your breath hitches softly. 
“Princess likes being touched here, huh?” he marvels quietly, leaning in with a slow lick of his lips. “How about kissed, hm? Do you like being kissed here, too?”
“Yeah,” you exhale with a smile, and he grins, wetting his lips once more before leaning in closer and pressing his wet lips to your core, bottom lip barely grazing your concealed clit. As he does, he takes a deep, loud inhale followed by a lust-filled groan that has heat rushing to your cheeks. 
“Jesus, Jaemin—”
“Not now.” His reply is distracted, but blunt and domineering all the same, and you find yourself falling silent in surprise. When he pulls back, there’s a wet spot on the fabric where his mouth used to be, and the cool air hits it, making you hiss quietly.
“As hot as these look on you, I want them off.” Jaemin mutters, hooking his fingers into your underwear and tugging it down and off your legs. “Wanna taste it.” he mumbles—you think it’s towards himself—before he’s burying his face between your legs with another loud moan that makes you curse under your breath, overwhelmed with desire.
His tongue lies flat against your folds, languidly and deliciously dragging upwards to circle around your clit. He grunts in delight and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, hooking his arms around your thighs and pushing forward again, the bridge of his nose pressed against your mound. 
You gasp and clutch at the nearest thing in your grasp, which just so happens to be Haechan’s thigh. “Fuck,” you whisper loudly, and Jaemin chuckles.
“Stop neglecting Haechan,” he scolds playfully through a mouthful of your pussy. “This was his idea, you know.”
You manage to redirect your attention to Haechan, whose eyes dart around as he watches you and Jaemin with a wild look in his eyes, the male seemingly frozen on the spot. 
Your nose nudges at Haechan’s, the male tilting his head towards you and parting his lips in a soft sigh as your lips meet. It takes a moment for him to reciprocate, almost long enough for you to pull back, but he finally starts to kiss you back with a whimper caught in the back of his throat. 
“Haechan, touch me,” you urge, gripping his wrist and bringing his hand to your waist. He clutches your waist, but there’s a hesitance to it that leaves you wanting more.
“Yeah, Haechan, touch her.” Jaemin chuckles before massaging your clit with his tongue. Your eyes roll back into your head with a groan and he rewards your reaction by pressing the wet muscle against you more insistently. “Maybe he needs some incentive.”
“Incentive?” you hum curiously, and he nods, that wicked glint returning to his eyes.
“Take your shirt off.” he presses, and you oblige without hesitation, discarding the shirt behind you on the bed and looking at Haechan expectantly, finding yourself endeared by the way he nibbles his bottom lip nervously. “Haechan, doesn’t she look so good like that?”
“Amazing,” Haechan breathes reverently, and you smile at the praise, eyes closing in bliss. 
“Kiss her.” Jaemin suggests, and Haechan does just that, tentatively approaching you and gently connecting his lips with yours. As your mouths move together, you can’t help but notice the same reservation in Haechan’s movements, drawing a plaintive whimper from your lips. “Stop kissing her like you’re scared, Haechan,” Jaemin scolds. “She likes it. Don’t you, princess?”
“Yes,” you reply instantly, reaching up to cup Haechan’s cheek. He shudders at the contact, eyes fluttering shut before reopening with a darkened intensity that clues you in to the fact that Haechan seems to be done holding back.
Sure enough, Haechan clutches your chin and pulls you closer to him, tongue boldly slipping between your lips and exploring the wet warmth of your mouth. His thumb pries your lips apart with a forcefulness that delights you, and he hovers above your open mouth, eyes scanning yours before letting a string of saliva drip down from his lips onto your waiting tongue.
You whine when the spit connects with your tongue and he grunts, “Don’t swallow,” before kissing you again, tongue swirling confidently around yours even as a mix of your saliva drips down your chin and onto your chest. He’s quick to act, leaning down and dragging his tongue up the trail of spit before connecting your lips again in a more heated, desperate kiss that slowly takes your breath away. It’s wet, and hot, and messy and sloppy and everything you could have wanted from him and more as he leans in, pressing into you and leaning you back onto your mattress. 
Jaemin seems to be done assisting Haechan, as he returns to eating you out with a renewed fervor and, as Haechan kisses down your body to your breasts, it dawns on you that they might be competing for your attention. 
With every swirl of Haechan’s tongue around your nipple, Jaemin echoes the action around your clit, their synchronization sending you spiraling into a frenzy. When Jaemin flicks your clit back and forth with his tongue before taking it into his mouth to suck, Haechan does the same to your breast, lapping at your nipple eagerly before sucking on the sensitive bud.
“Fuck—” you hiss, realizing—perhaps a moment too late—that you may have bitten off more than you can chew as you let the two sexually frustrated males have their way with your body.
Before long, you feel that tightening sensation in your stomach as your climax approaches, and you whimper in lieu of a verbal warning, Jaemin picking up on your cue instantly and diving back into your core with an eagerness that both startles and delights you. With another well-timed suck at your clit, you’re climaxing with a cry of pleasure and a full body tremor as you curl in on yourself. 
Before you’ve even recovered from your high, Jaemin’s pressing on your stomach to keep you in place as he resumes lapping at your core, his tongue gliding with ease against and between your slick folds. 
“Fuck—Jaemin, it’s sensitive—” you moan, squirming away from his touch, but he ignores you, two fingers prodding at your entrance before slowly easing their way in. “Oh, shit—”
“That’s it, just take it, princess,” Jaemin coos, swirling sinful circles around your clit as his fingers move in and out of you slowly. “Feel so good around my fingers like that, angel.”
“Can I—” Haechan swallows thickly before continuing, “Can I fuck your tits?” Before you can answer, he adds, “Please?” fully laden with desperation and you can’t even fathom saying no to him—so you don’t, instead nodding and watching his face light up with excitement.
He rushes to pull off his pants as if you’ll change your mind at any moment, and when he pulls his boxers down, his fully erect length springs up, girthy and long with an upwards curve. You watch with fascination as he straddles just below your chest, laying his length between your breasts and pushing them together with a groan. 
With his eyes locked on your breasts and where his length disappears between them, he starts to move, slowly fucking himself on your breasts. His gasps and whimpers are both adorable and arousing, his fingers greedily clutching the mounds of flesh as his thumbs swipe over your nipples rhythmically. 
Apparently dissatisfied with the sensation, Haechan pauses, smearing his precum over your chest and pauses thoughtfully before leaning forward and letting several large droplets of saliva drip down from his tongue to your breasts, the clear liquid landing on either side of his cock and slowly sliding down the insides of your breasts to coat his length. “That’s more like it,” he grunts, and resumes fucking your cleavage, his eyes rolling back into his head at the sensations, his length gliding between your breasts with ease. 
Meanwhile, Jaemin curls his fingers inside of you, fucking them into you quickly and mercilessly as you cry out in pleasure. His tongue keeps swirling around and flicking at your clit, massaging your little bundle of nerves as his fingertips fuck into your other patch of nerves along your inner walls that has you seeing fireworks.
“God, that feels so good,” you whimper out, and Jaemin nods vigorously, tongue messily gliding along your folds with every movement of his head. 
“Mm, I know, princess—tastes so good, too.” he purrs, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to peek past Haechan at Jaemin, noting fondly that his glasses have almost completely fogged up. 
Haechan shoves his glasses up his nose hurriedly with one hand, mumbling something about wanting to see better, before he speeds up, small moans leaving him as he approaches his high.
Jaemin digs his tongue into your core, greedy muscle slurping up your arousal as it gushes from your hole, and you moan loudly, walls clenching desperately around the intrusion. His fingers slide up and down your slit, parting your folds, and he uses the combination of your slick and his spit to lube up his fingers for when he presses them to your asshole. He chuckles darkly when you squeal and squirm, fingers pushing into your tight rim without pause. 
“You can take it, right, princess?” he coos, and you nod, panting, even though you’re not sure he can see you. “That’s it, pretty, just like that. So fun to play with,” he murmurs, the last part almost sounding like it’s to himself as he moves his fingers inside of you, tongue gliding up and down to swirl around your clit and your entrance teasingly.
“So good,” Haechan moans, still using your breasts to stroke his length. “Wanna cum—fuck, you’re so hot—gonna cum, pretty—where d’you want it?”
You find that you can barely form thoughts, let alone words, so, in lieu of a verbal response, you open your mouth, tongue dropping out slowly, and he moans again, this one higher and audibly overwhelmed before he thrusts his cock faster between your breasts, the tip of his length occasionally rubbing against your tongue. With a low groan, Haechan cums, abdomen tensing as he pants his way through his climax. He releases onto your waiting tongue, one spurt of cum landing on your cheek and bottom lip. 
He admires the sight of you with his release painting your face and swipes up the stray seed with his finger, pushing it into your mouth and groaning when your lips wrap around it and suck it clean.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs reverently, shuffling down your body to kiss you sloppily, tongue swirling around the inside of your mouth to taste himself. 
Looking behind himself, Haechan takes one look at Jaemin’s fingers diving in and out of your core, slick arousal and Jaemin’s saliva dripping from your entrance, and groans, rushing to get off of the bed and shove Jaemin out of place none too gently to take his place between your legs and study your glistening core, eyes roving over how your entrance is still clenching reflexively around nothing and how your clit twitches with every clench, both overstimulated and in search of something more.
You’re barely done with coming down from your last high when Haechan moans loudly, at his limit, and buries his face between your legs, tongue delving into your folds as you squirm and whimper.
“Haechan, holy shit—” you gasp, squirming away from him, but he just winds his wiry arms around your thighs and tugs you back to the edge of the bed, roughly massaging your clit with his tongue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, slow down—”
“Tastes so good,” Haechan moans, gaze flicking up to look at you. His hair is all messed up from the numerous times your legs closed around his head and his glasses are fogged up with the heat radiating from your body and his heavy panting, but you can clearly see a wild look in his eyes, his gaze hungrily drinking in the sight of you in front of him. “Don’t wanna stop—don’t make me stop—please—”
“Haechan, baby, please take it easy,” you pant, but Haechan pays you absolutely no mind, his thick tongue slithering into your entrance and drawing out a sharp whine from you as you struggle to sit up, trying the whole while to swat his head away so you can catch your breath.
Your hand barely clutches at a lock of Haechan’s hair before Jaemin’s pulling your hands behind your back and settling you against his chest, his incredibly strong and firm grip leaving you stuck in place as Haechan has his way with your pussy.
“Let him have his fun,” Jaemin purrs in your ear as Haechan laps at your entrance before stuffing his tongue back in as far as it’ll go. “Can’t tell you how long he’s been waiting for this moment.”
“But—” you whimper, walls clenching helplessly around Haechan’s greedy tongue. 
“Doesn’t that feel so good, princess?” Jaemin coos fondly, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You turn your head slightly to look at him with pleading eyes in the hopes he’ll have mercy, but he just chuckles, moving both your wrists to one of his hands before cupping your chin with the other and tilting your face back to his to connect your lips in a slow, passionate, deeply overwhelming kiss. 
You can taste your arousal on his tongue as well as a hint of the gum he was chewing earlier, and you keen weakly into the kiss, sloppily moving your mouth with his as Haechan slurps your arousal eagerly before he sucks your clit into his mouth, presses it between his lips, and moans loudly, the vibrations mixed with all of the lewd noises making you hurtle towards yet another high.
“Oh, shit—” you cry out against Jaemin’s lips as Haechan tongue-fucks you to another orgasm, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he claws at you in a desperate attempt to keep you against his mouth. Jaemin’s hand leaves your chin and moves to grope your breast, his large hand kneading and massaging the flesh and tugging at your nipple as he dots slow, wet kisses down your neck and shoulder. 
“Could stay down here forever,” Haechan grunts, and your eyes widen even in their exhausted, drained state as you start to struggle against Jaemin’s grip and fight to close your legs.
“Please leave my poor clit alone,” you plead, finally wrenching one of your hands free from Jaemin’s clutches and clapping it over your core protectively. Haechan barely even pauses, just starts licking at your fingers with desperate little moans and grunts. “Can one of you please just fuck me?”
They both go stiff, looking at each other wordlessly, before Jaemin releases you completely and switches spots with Haechan, maneuvering his length out of his sweats and boxers, and oh—
“You’re big, too,” you mumble in surprise, and he arches an eyebrow with a smirk.
“Did you think it was going to be small?” 
“Well, no, but I definitely didn’t think it’d be that big.” you mutter, and he snickers, lifting your hips to push you further back on the bed. He spreads your legs wider and looks at your core, eyes roving over your glistening folds and inner thighs with such unadulterated desire that you’re tempted to close your legs out of embarrassment.
“Haechan got you nice and wet for me, yeah?” he murmurs, pumping his fist up and down his cock slowly before slapping the underside of his length on your poor, hypersensitive clit and grinning when you jolt from the stimulation. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”
“Only one way to find out,” you reply breathlessly, and he laughs, nodding in agreement.
“You’re right about that,” he grunts as he pushes into you. Both of you react instantly; his jaw clenches while yours drops, and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as a breathy half-whimper, half-sigh escapes you. 
Haechan watches you two with rapt attention, eyes flicking from your face to your breasts to where Jaemin’s length is slowly disappearing into you.
“Sweet pussy’s sucking me right in, princess,” Jaemin drawls with a smug grin. “Wanted this that badly, huh?”
“Shut—up—” you gasp as he bottoms out, the absolutely full-to-the-brim sensation dizzying and overwhelming and delicious all at once.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jaemin obliges, brows knitting together as he pulls out slowly and thrusts back in with a quick snap of his hips. You cry out in pleasure and the corner of his mouth quirks upward in smug satisfaction and amusement before he does it again… and again… and again until he’s built up a steady rhythm, every thrust punctuated by a plaintive moan from you.
His hands glide over everywhere he can reach before seeking purchase in your hips, fingertips digging into the flesh there as he drives his length into you.
“You love this, don’t you?” Jaemin coos as Haechan presses your breasts together and wraps his lips around one nipple, sucking as he tugs at the other bud. “You gonna tell your friends how good we fucked you?”
“Mm—yes,” you pant, and Jaemin grins. 
“Gonna tell ‘em that two little nerds from your Biology class fucked you stupid, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding vigorously. “Mm-hmm—”
“Thought so,” he replies with a dark chuckle before draping one of your legs over his shoulder, angling his hips toward it, and fucking intently into a spot that, you realize after the burst of pleasure from his first thrust, must be your g-spot. 
“Ho–ly shit,” you gasp, clutching at Haechan for something you can use to brace yourself. Jaemin’s thrusts send him into you nice and deep and you’re slowly but surely losing your mind with every stroke, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp as he fucks into you. Your fingers catch Haechan’s thigh once more, clutching onto the warm flesh in an attempt to ground yourself.
Haechan groans and responds by swirling his tongue around your nipple slowly before flicking it back and forth quickly, using a finger to replicate his actions on your other breast.
“Please—fuck—I’m gonna cum—” you warn Jaemin, and he nods eagerly, letting a hand drag across your body from your hip to your clit, thumb sliding between your messy, wet folds to reveal the sensitive button between them. You inhale sharply when he starts to rub it in circles with the same thumb, fingertips resting lightly on your stomach as if he’s not driving you absolutely insane. “Oh, my God—cumming—I’m cumming—!”
“Me too, princess,” he groans, his hips speeding up as he chases after his own high. You climax first, letting out a drawn out whine, with Jaemin following shortly after, the male burying his length in you and pumping you full of his cum as he groans in pleasure under his breath.
“My turn,” Haechan grunts as Jaemin pulls out of you, both males watching as milky white cum drips from your entrance. “That’s so fucking hot,” Haechan mumbles in awe before reaching for your hands to gently guide you to a sitting position. “Can you ride me, pretty?”
“If my legs don’t give out,” you mumble, and he chuckles, sitting against where your bed meets the wall and patting his lap invitingly. You carefully straddle his lap, fingers wrapping around the thick head of his length as you guide his tip to your entrance and start to ease down onto him. Haechan gapes up at you, prompting you to coo affectionately. “Do you mind if I do it myself?” you ask sweetly as you sink down on it further, your nipple grazing his lips as you move against him, and he shakes his head emphatically, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly. “Good,” you praise softly. “You’re not going to cum early, are you?” you ask with a small frown, and Haechan shakes his head again, the glasses sliding further and further down his nose. You gently push the glasses up, and he smiles appreciatively, tongue darting out to lick at your nipple while it’s near his mouth.
“Feels amazing,” he moans, and you smile fondly. You didn’t get a chance to see his length in all its glory, but you can definitely feel every thick inch of his cock as it stretches you open. He’s not quite as long as Jaemin, but he makes up for it in girth, his length barely fitting in your fist as you finish settling down on him.
When you’ve finally managed to fit all of his girthy length inside of you, you lift up slightly, rocking your hips forward for more friction, and Haechan moans out loudly, leaning forward to suck your nipple into his mouth. He cups your breasts, holding them up and together, and alternates running his tongue over both buds, occasionally sucking on a nipple with a low moan of satisfaction.
“More,” Haechan gasps out.
“More?” you ask, confused and lightheaded from all the pleasure you’re receiving.
“Yeah—need you to move faster,” he grunts through gritted teeth, and you suck your teeth.
“You wanted me on top when I told you my legs might give out—” you start to protest, and he pulls your face to his, kissing you to shut you up.
“Need it like this,” Haechan growls under his breath, swiftly maneuvering you two around so you’re lying on your back and he’s on his knees on the bed between your legs. “Hold these for me?” he asks, pressing your knees as close to your chest as they’ll go. As you tentatively hug your legs to your chest, Haechan spreads your folds apart with two fingers, sucking in a loud breath at the sight before he spits directly on your core, a gasp escaping you at the sensation of the warm saliva dripping down your folds.
He rests the underside of his cock on your clit, slowly rocking his hips forward to drag his thick length against your clit, and chuckles when you keen with pleasure.
“You’re so nasty,” Haechan sighs the words like you’re his dream come true, and based on the way his face contorts when he pushes into you, you just might be. He wastes no time, drilling into you at a quick, ruthless pace that has you moaning mindlessly with literally no idea what’s coming out of your mouth. “So fucking nasty for letting me do this to you,” he grunts, brows furrowed as one hand cups your chin. “Open.” 
You oblige, tongue lolling out without being asked, and he grins, leaning over you and letting more saliva drip from his mouth to your waiting tongue. Haechan dips down lower, maintaining his thrusts as he messily moves his lips against yours, his tongue and spit getting everywhere, and he whines desperately into the kiss, his hand moving from your chin to between your legs where he starts to toy with your poor clit.
A choked wail of overstimulation slips from you before you can even process it, and Haechan silences you by kissing you again, mumbling, “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you—perfect little fuckdoll—gonna fuck you so full of cum, gonna breed you—”
“Holy shit—breed me, yes, breed me—” you pant, nodding eagerly, and you might be imagining it, but Haechan’s thrusts seem to get impossibly deeper like he genuinely might take you up on that offer.
“Gonna breed you, pretty girl—stuff you full of my cum—give you a fucking baby—make you all mine—”
“Want it—Haechan, please—yours, I’m yours—” you can barely keep up with his heated dialogue, your eyes rolling back into your head in ecstasy as you fall apart on his length.
Haechan’s lips seal over yours, tasting your desperate cries as he fucks you foolish, making a weak, overwhelmed moan come from you and your body produce a deep, full-body shudder that travels as pleasure races through you, electrifying your bloodstream. 
Haechan isn't far behind, his tongue playing with yours almost lazily as his thrusts slow to a stop before he buries himself in you, emptying his seed into you and filling you with an impossibly large load of cum. He groans against your lips, slowly pulling out to the tip and staring down at how his length is coated with a blend of all of your cum with a deep-seated satisfaction.
“Holy shit,” he pants, flopping onto his back. “That was incredible.”
“You’re telling me,” you laugh. “Where did you two learn all that?”
“We watch a lot of porn.” Jaemin says, sheepish for the first time.
“And it taught you all of that?” you remark, incredulous.
“It taught us more, too,” Haechan adds, leaning over you with a grin. “Wanna see?”
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“So, you’re telling me those two nerds from your class dicked you down… and they did it well?” Jimin remarks over your lunch in the cafeteria, eyes wide, and you scowl at her.
“Their names are Haechan and Jaemin.” you correct her, and she chuckles sheepishly. “But yes, they may have been the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Well, who would’ve thought…” Jimin comments, her expression thoughtful, and you snap loudly to get her attention. “What?”
“Those two are mine now. You can’t have them.” you state, and she frowns.
“Both of them? Aren’t you greedy?”
You shrug. “Don’t care. Mine.”
“What if they find out you’re actively laying a claim to them? Hm? Aren’t you supposed to be helping them get girls?” Jimin points out, and you frown slightly before pulling your phone out and scrolling through your messages before pressing the “Dial” button. “Who are you calling?”
“Shh.” you say distractedly, placing the call on speakerphone and waiting patiently as it rings once, twice, then stops, the other person on the line picking up. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Haechan greets, sounding slightly concerned. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you assure him. “Is Jaemin with you?”
“Yeah, he’s right here—did you wanna talk to him?” he asks.
“Both of you, actually. Can he hear me?”
“Hi, princess,” Jaemin calls through the phone, and Jimin’s brows lift in surprise.
“Princess?” she mouths at you, and you smile, nodding.
“Hi, Jaemin. I just wanted to ask you guys a question.”
“Shoot,” Haechan says with audible wariness in his voice.
“You’re both… mine, right?” you say carefully, and Haechan sucks in a sharp breath before you hear a thudding noise. “Haechan?”
“I’m here!” he squawks, sounding slightly far away. There’s a rustling noise, and then his voice comes in clearer. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “What happened?”
“He dropped the phone because he’s an idiot.” Jaemin calls out, and you laugh as Haechan shushes him forcefully. 
“An answer to my question would be nice, you know.” you tease lightly.
“I’m yours if you want me to be,” Jaemin replies smoothly, and you smile even though they can’t see you.
“Honestly, I’m yours even if you don’t.” Haechan adds, and your smile only widens as you shoot Jimin an “I told you so” glance.
“That’s good to hear.” you reply, your smile creeping into your voice, and Haechan clears his throat pointedly. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, are you ours?” Haechan asks hopefully, and you look over at Jimin as you reply.
“Absolutely.” 
“Oh, thank God.” he mumbles, and you giggle.
“So, I’m guessing you two are done with your lessons on how to get girls?” you suppose, nibbling your bottom lip nervously.
“Yeah,” Haechan confirms, and you’re surprised by just how relieved you are. “We got the only girl that matters.”
“You’re too cute.” you chuckle. “Wanna come over later?”
“Yes—” Haechan blurts out before composing himself to say, “yes, absolutely.”
“Good. Six sound good?”
“Sounds perfect,” he sighs happily. “See you then, pretty.”
“Bye, baby,” you coo into the phone, and his excited squeal is quiet but unmistakable. “Bye, other baby.”
“Bye, princess. See you at six.” Jaemin calls out, and you smile widely before hanging up and smiling proudly at Jimin.
“My boys didn’t disappoint me.” you remark, pleased, and Jimin huffs petulantly.
“Man. I’m happy for you, but I wish I had two cute nerds at my beck and call.”
“Stop calling them nerds,” you correct, and she rolls her eyes.
“Wish I had two cute guys at my beck and call.” she amends her statement, and you smile, satisfied.
“Yeah, I’m pretty lucky, huh?” you muse, and Jimin sighs, a smile curling at her lips.
“Yeah… would you ever wanna share?” she asks with a wiggle of her brows. “Ow! There was no need to flick me.”
“There was every need. Avert your eyes from my men, you lustful wench.”
“Lustful wench? You’re horrible. And greedy! And selfish. Just horrible and greedy and selfish.” she complains, and you shrug, uncaring as you compose a text to your new… boyfriends?
you have created a group message. you have named the group message “power throuple.” you [17:05pm] hi boyfies :)  haechan [17:07pm] boyfies…. i’m weak in the knees jaemin [17:08pm] haechan stand up jaemin [17:08pm] hi baby girl you loved “hi baby girl” haechan [17:10pm] why would i stand up if i could lie down and have our pretty girlfriend sit on my face? 😁 you [17:11pm] you’re bolder over text, huh? haechan [17:12pm] can you blame me? have you seen yourself? you [17:12pm] i have…  haechan [17:13pm] so you know how good you look. don’t judge me when i can’t get my words out in person you [17:15pm] i happen to find it cute when you can’t get your words out jaemin [17:16pm] i find it cute when YOU can’t get your words out you [17:16pm] and when would that be? jaemin [17:17pm] don’t tell me you’ve forgotten so soon… you [17:17pm] i have :( maybe i need a reminder? jaemin liked your message “i have :( maybe i need a reminder?” jaemin [17:18pm] maybe we should come over earlier to jog your memory you [17:20pm] maybe you should. how about 5:45? jaemin liked your message “maybe you should. how about 5:45?” haechan liked your message “maybe you should. how about 5:45?” you [17:22pm] great!! it’s a date :)
“What am I, chopped liver?” Jimin complains as you giggle down at your phone.
“Sorry… and I’m even more sorry for having to cut this short.” you apologize sheepishly as you start to gather your things. 
“You’re kidding…” Jimin remarks, incredulous. “Flat-leaver!”
“I’ll text you after everything,” you assure her, stuffing your notebook in your bag and your phone in your bag’s front pocket. “Gotta go get ready!”
“You’re the worst.” she huffs, but there’s a smile on her face as she rolls her eyes. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“Rawr.” You make a claw with your fingers, and she stops short, blinking at you with a blank expression. “Too much?”
“Never do that again.”
You nod in understanding. “Copy.”
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tadaaaaa i hope you enjoyed! if you liked it, please shoot me an ask or write something nice in the tags :D i love (positive) feedback!
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neowinestainedress ¡ 4 months ago
Text
wave | lee donghyuck
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pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, mentioned weed consumption, alcohol use, fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, jealous sex, bickering, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 22.4k (out of 42k)
a/n: finally i’m back! i started this fic more than a year ago so seeing it finally come to life means everything to me. i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you’ll love it too. please, let me know with comments, reblogs (that also help reach more people), or anon. i love knowing what you think. enjoy! also if there are formatting mistakes please let me know cause i’ve been having problems posting this and i copied it without editing it once again.
masterpost (with visuals and playlist) (i can’t post the link or else the post doesn’t show up in the tags, but you can find it on my profile)
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Being number one in your academy isn’t a want, but a need.
You didn’t spend your entire life crafting your skills and splitting yourself between the books and the training room for all of that to be swept under the rug when you finally made it to your dream university; Neo Arts Academy.
Surely, with the prizes promised to those on top, you aren’t the only one with that racing passion to drive you through each day. Tons of people try their best, and even put their health at risk to reach the biggest success, but you manage to focus on yourself and keep your life in a pretty healthy balance.
You managed to focus on you… until something, well, somebody, started to come into your way.
Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, his stage name —if he ever made it big in the industry he wanted to be already known.
You never paid him much attention. Honestly, you never paid attention to anybody, your only goal was to take care of your small garden and top everybody else, but when his competitiveness got the best of him, you just couldn’t push him in the back of your mind.
Apparently, his goals are the same as yours, and that isn’t a nice thing considering how competitive your world is. You first truly glanced at him during a songwriting lesson, when he huffed a bit too loudly behind you while he announced to his friend, probably named Mark, that he sucked at writing songs. However, you only chuckled mindlessly that time and went on with your day.
That was your first year there and everything went fine. Then the second year arrived and you applied for your minor degree in dance and that was when Donghyuck’s presence started to be louder. You had nothing against him, but you quickly learned he couldn’t stand you for some reason. Rumours were quick at flying around, being passed from mouth to ear and you knew them.
You simply couldn’t care.
Yet.
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Haechan doesn’t hate you. He could never do that. After all, he doesn’t even know you. But he does know something about you. He knows your name, and how it is always on top of his in any ranking. He knows you will always win the contests he wants to win so badly. He knows you are good at theory and practice. He knows he just can’t win with you.
He also knows nothing can touch you. Not because you are unreachable and believe you’re superior to others. Actually, you are very modest about all your academic success, but you always walk straight on your road with the goal perfectly in the line of view.
Haechan doesn’t hate you. Though, lately, he has a strange feeling in his body every time he sits at his desk to study and his only motivation is to surpass you. Nothing different than the first months there, he got pretty soon you were going to be a tough but nice competitor, but fuck he never imagined you would be so hard to beat. Now that after a year he never won or got the top grade and always came second after you, you aren’t motivating him, you are driving him insane.
He doesn’t have many distractions, but he has friends, some hobbies outside of university, and even a part-time job. But you? Is there something that is distracting you? Is there anything that could distract you? He has no idea, not now that he is watching you walk into the room, ready for the classical ballet history class —yes, of course out of all the minors, you had to choose his— and sit a few rows in front of him, all alone as always, taking out your lilac book note and your pen.
Haechan has no idea, but he is going to find out something that can easily distract you and push out of your path.
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You know people think of university as a moment to socialise, but being on your own has never been a problem for you. You have contacts with some of your hometown friends, and most importantly, you don’t mind doing things alone; you can go to the cinema when you want, you can pick whatever restaurant you like, you can take a walk, or stay at home.
You’ve always been comfortable in your bubble, and you’d like to keep it that way, but life has strange plans.
“Damn, always on a rush.” You recognize Haechan’s voice, but you don’t bother turning around because you’re sure he’s not addressing you. You think it’s weird he’s sitting next to you, but you blink the surprise away and grab your tablet from your bag. “Whoever put music theory at 8:30 in the morning on a Monday needs to go to jail.”
You chuckle at his comment, subtly rolling your eyes before opening the note app to go where you left it in the previous lesson.
“You write a lot.” This time you’re quite sure he’s talking to you, so your neck turns to look at him and you find him closer than you’d like him to be.
“I annotate, it’s just the essentials.”
He scans the notes quickly before scoffing. “The essentials? I don’t write as half as that.”
“Well, I think this is essential, but we all work differently,” while you’re answering him, you don’t even notice that his friend is not beside him, and you get lost in him for a second, mostly in the scent that’s filling your nostrils now that his brown jacket is so close to you.
“The professor talks too fast, how the fu— how do you get everything?” He stops himself from cursing and backs away, finally making you breathe some air that is not filled with his intoxicating perfume.
“I rewrite phrases. And, to be sure, I record the lessons, so I can re-listen to them in case something doesn’t make sense when I study them. And then I also re-write the not—”
“You record the lessons?” He almost snarls with his eyes bulging out of his skull as he, once again, stands too close to you.
“Is it illegal?” Your head tilts to the side as genuine curiosity blooms on your face.
“No, it’s… it’s…” he sighs, throwing his head back and cursing something under his breath in a tight dialect you don’t recognize. “I never thought about it.”
“Oh, well, it helps me a lot. Sometimes when I’m too tired to read I just play the lessons and memorize stuff while I do other things,” you smile, moving your hair to one side of your neck before grabbing the pen when the professor walks in. “You should try.”
“Oh, you can be sure I will.”
Haechan can’t be so stupid. He can’t believe he can be so stupid. Why didn’t he ever, ever, think about that? That’s a smart idea, better than crying and cursing when he tries to understand what he wrote down on paper when he revisits the notes, or asking Mark if he wrote some phrases he had marked down with several question marks or dots to fill —dots that he never fills.
But he’s still sure he can’t be a terrible student, he had always been on top of his classes, always aced them and his study method worked… but what if yours worked better? Given the results of the past year, and the start of this one, the answer is clear: yours do work better.
But he doesn’t think that it’s the only reason you are beating him in everything. What if you have other tricks?
Haechan is going to find out.
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You always believed your only competition was yourself. You never liked to engage with other people and fight them or fear them. But Haechan had given you no choice.
It was an open threat at you when he purposefully told you a different day to turn in an assignment when you were sick, you had no choice but to fight back.
That was when Haechan truly became your rival. He had always been, you two were always at the top, fighting for the first place and the big prizes, but now it was a matter of pride.
Haechan had officially made it on top of your blacklist, at least he could arrive number one in something, not like there was a big competition to be in there, in fact, you didn’t even have one before he pushed your last nerve.
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Fucking it up with you wasn’t Haechan’s plan, he wanted to befriend you and trick you into giving him some magic tricks, but things went… wrong. With Mark by his side, it was impossible to sit next to you. During songwriting you got up and sat on another seat in the middle of the lesson with the excuse of ‘not seeing from afar’, and he couldn’t approach you in any other circumstances. So, when you got sick for three days, he thought he could, for once, steal your spotlight.
He wasn’t sure you were sick, but he was sure enough you weren’t going to miss lessons days to study or work on projects; you never needed extra time, unfortunately, he knew it well. So the only thing that could lock you in your place was an illness of some kind. He did feel bad when you came back four days later and asked him if you missed something, he could see you still weren’t at your best, and he could’ve tried his luck by telling you the truth, hoping that the precarious state you were in was going to make you come up with a terrible essay on an instrument of the 18th century, but his eagerness got the best of him, and he lied.
So he had officially screwed his plan of getting closer to you.
“You are an asshole,” you scream, slamming the books in front of him on the table in the garden, not caring about his friends staring at you in shock. “And don’t look at me with that face of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ because you know what I’m referring to.”
“I don’t, though…” he whispers, trying to keep a distance between you because you look scary —half bent on the table, furrowed forehead, pointing finger— and he thinks you are very motivated to reach over his neckline and strangle him.
You roll your eyes, groaning in annoyance. “You told me Professor Kim left an essay for Monday, I thought I could use the weekend to do an amazing job and he called me to his office because I was three days late.”
Haechan gulps, and the table goes silent, you feel his friends’ gazes on you but they are the last thing in your mind.
“Mind to explain?”
“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”
“You have to ask me if you are an asshole because your mother didn’t put a brain in your skull?”
“Hey, take it back!” He warns with a pointing finger, glaring at you.  
“No,” you retort, crossing your arms on your chest and standing up straight. “You sabotaged me.”
“You are making things up. Maybe you should be in the creative writing major,” Haechan taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.  
You gasp offended, clenching your fists to avoid wrapping your hands around his neck. “You — you — ugh,” you huff. “This paper was graded! And you knew it, it’s part of the mid-course work he adds to our final grade. Why would you do that to me?”
“You think I did that on purpose?”
“When did you turn it in?” You ask and when his eyes widen you scream at his face. “See! You turned it on time. I fucking hate you!”
“I didn’t answer,” he tries to defend, a challenging edge in his voice, getting to your nerves more than the look on his face.
“First of all, I can see it in your face. You’re trying to look surprised and even scared, but you’re having the time of your life because, guess what, you can’t surpass me if you don’t play your stupid games.”
He snorts offended, gulping before leaning closer. “You think I can’t beat you?”
“It’s not what I think, it’s what the rankings say, it’s what our professors say, and it’s what all the external opportunities I’ve got say. But if you want to try to prove facts wrong, bring it on,” you shrug, grabbing your things and taking a step back. “No more dirty games from now on, Lee Donghyuck. Trust me, you don’t want me to start playing them too, you might not even see the top three if I do.”
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The months to come are fire. You should keep minding your business but as soon as he opens his mouth in class you can’t press your lips together and fake it. You try, every time, but you fail.
“I just mean that the melody is what attracts people,” he argues during a discussion in the songwriting class.
You huff, shaking your head. “People care about the lyrics more.”
He scoffs loudly and the professor glares at him for the reaction but he still goes on. “People won’t listen to a song if the production sucks.”
You turn around, eyebrows pressed in a furrow. “And they won’t listen to a song if the lyrics are dumb, or tell a bad message.”
“Really? Catchy pop music is a thing even if you want so badly to maintain the purity of the art of music with only lyrical depth.”
“I love catchy pop songs, but there’s something objective in music and something subjective, if you paid attention to any of our classes you should know, right?”
The class holds back a laugh and the professor coughs, making you utter an apologize, more addressed to her than your enemy.
“Oh, trust me, I paid attention to class,” he retorts, mockingly smiling at you. “And we’re not talking about the quality but the appeal. People remember the rhythm of the song or the tune more than they remember the words.”
“And words can hold so much meaning for someone they will stick to them forever. Also, lyrics can have different interpretations and if you’re a good writer you can make one song fit for more occasions.”
“That’s dumb,” he says, looking at you up and down after scoffing. “Notes can transfer different emotions, what you said just doesn’t make sense, please.”
“Can we tone it down?” Professor Park warns, glaring at the both of you.
You nod and mutter another apology before speaking up again, “I believe that a good melody can easily attract people at first listen, but if we talk about the long run, a memorable song also needs good lyrics. And Mariah Carey herself said how being a songwriter makes your career last more, so I think it’s telling coming from one of the best voices ever.”
“I think you both make a great point,” the professor cuts the conversation off before you can jump at each other’s throat again. “It would be interesting to make a deeper analysis and maybe break down songs and compare data over time. If it was possible to keep the decorum…” she whispers the last word and you want to disappear because you hate the scene you gave. “But we need to move on with our lesson, so, as I was saying…”
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Out of all the heated discussions you had in class, the one about the importance of production and lyrics, led to your worst nightmare, working on a project with him. Professor Park was so nice to pair you together because she wanted to see how your different points of view would’ve worked in the song you had to write and produce and even if you smiled and said, ‘it will be really motivating,’ to avoid yelling at her face, now you want to die.
You’re sure the first two knocks on the door don’t even reach the other side; your hits are too weak and the small apartment in that complex is too loud for anyone to hear. Is this the environment you have to work in today?
You roll your eyes and knock again, this time making sure it’s impossible for them not to hear you. You wait there only for a few seconds and then the door opens, revealing a boy your age you can’t remember.
“Oh, hi,” he cheers, big toothy smile beaming at you. “You must be here for Hyuck, right?”
You hum, nodding and murmuring, “Yes, I have to work on a project with Haechan.”
“Come in.”
You step inside the house and look around briefly before your eyes fall on the table in the small living room; there are books everywhere, headphones on the ground, boxes of food and empty water bottles, and most importantly talks too loud for four boys that were supposedly studying.
“Mark, can you lower the music?”
“Music is what I’m studying, I can’t,” the man you know well replies. “Why don’t you keep your pencil close to you? Jesus, there’s graphite everywhere.”
“You’re so annoying, I can’t go in my room, Jeno still didn’t take down the light boxes,” the brown-haired replies, sending a death glare to the boy at his side who quickly replies to his defence.  
“Hey, I finished shooting half an hour ago and now I have an essay to write, leave me alone.”
“They’re entertaining, aren’t they?” Haechan’s voice brings you out of the haze of his bickering friends, their conversation fades in the background while your anger level rises just seeing his face when you turn around.
“Surely more entertaining than you,” you retort before taking a step forward, pretending to know where to go in that house.
Haechan rolls his eyes, thanking his friend who opened the door —Jaemin— and coming next to you. “You don’t know where my room is yet, so if you’d like to follow me.”
You trail behind him, waving at the men around the table but it’s clear that none of them even noticed your presence. Luckily for you, Donghyuck’s room is at the end of the corridor and the mess that goes down in the other room is not hearable enough to make your day a living hell.
“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks after you sit at one of the chairs at his desk.
You shake your head, fixing your skirt and pulling out some things you might need from your bag. “Wanted to hear from you first. Since the melody is so crucial, we should start from that,” you mock in a fake-sweet tone, and you feel his glare on your skin.
“You truly are a pain in the ass, you know?” He scoffs, moving his hair out of his face, gaze fixed on you.
“And for what? Because I agreed with your theory?”
“If you have a melody in mind it’s easier to make the words flow.”
“If the melody has nothing to do with the idea, you only have some notes and not a song.”
Now that there aren’t rows of chairs dividing you, the heated argument has led you face to face, literally. And you feel your heart pound in your chest from the anger and, also because it’s weird to be this close to a stranger you can’t stand.
“Okay, Miss Taylor Swift, why don’t you enlighten me and show me what you got?”
You glare at him but he’s unfazed, holding the eye contact proudly. “My lyrics will be better than your production.”
“And are those lyrics in the room with us?”
“God,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air and your head back. “You drive me insane.”
“And you are pretentious and still never prove all the things that that little, bratty, annoying mouth of yours says.”
Deep creases show on your forehead, and you have to turn around because if you see his face for a second more you will slap him. But you want this project done, you have four weeks to turn it in, but you want this torture to be over as soon as possible, so you know you have to put the pettiness aside.
“If we want a great result and good grades, we need good lyrics and a good melody,” you say, calmly facing him again, slowly watching as his face softens. “My words and your production. I don’t care what comes to us first, if you think it can be useful, we could even brainstorm some tunes and catchphrases and then build it around it.”
“Now you’re making some sense,” he exclaims, smiling widely before patting the top of your head. “So that head is not empty.”
“Oh, seriously? I’m trying to have a truce, and you fuck it all up again?”
“No, sorry, I just think you’re really smart when it comes to college but a bit annoying when it comes to life.”
“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”
“I can,” he retorts smugly.  
“Then why don’t you do it?” You tease, cocking your head to the side.
Haechan scoffs, lips twitching in a quick smirk before he wets them. “I didn’t yet, but are you so sure I won’t?” He whispers, breath colliding with your lips and nose brushing yours, your brain doesn’t even register his hands on your legs right away, only when his fingers caress your bare skin right above the hem you wake up from the haze of having him so close.
“Time will — time will prove us,” you say, turning to the desk and scratching your neck. “Time will tell us, not prove us.”
Haechan snickers, moving closer to see on your tablet where you opened the notes, and smiles smugly. He thinks he found a way to distract you.
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The project isn’t done in the first week, and to put a cherry on top, Professor Park decides to make it the big project for the end of the class, adding a cover for the single, a plan to sponsor it, and, if someone feels brave enough, even to record it. Even if you wanted to, a thing this big, and now with so much weight on the final grade, can’t be done in one week.
Yet, you think you’ll have to deal with Haechan only on your weekly meet-ups for that project and during lessons, you never imagined you would have to deal with him even during your library study on Wednesday.
“Why are you studying in the middle of the week?”
“You know, if I had to replicate a sound every time we start a conversation it would be ‘and now, I just want to sit back and relax and enjoy my evening, when all of a sudden I hear this agitating grating voice,’ and that is the sound that plays in my mind, actually.”
“Grating? Really?”
“Well, it’s the quote but it fits,” you reply sternly, bringing your attention back to the book. “Also, the question is not, why am I studying, but why aren’t you? How will you beat me if you don’t?” You wink, laughing under your breath. You don’t even need to see his reaction; you know his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare for a brief second every time you tease him.
You hear the chair in front of you scratch on the floor, and deeply hope he’s not sitting on it. But Haechan is sitting on it, staring at you as if he could steal the information from your brain and pass it to his.
“I am studying.”
“No, you’re not,” you reply, eyes widening when he rips a page from your notebook and a pen from your case. “So, what have you learned since now?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes to the sky and instead run a hand on your face while sighing deeply. There’s just no way to get rid of him, right?
“You don’t even know what I’m studying.”
“Sound design,” he replies promptly, and you look down to see if he could’ve gotten a grasp from your books but there’s a paper on it and there’s not much written on it. Haechan smiles and moves to the chair next to you. “It’s because I started it too, there are too many notions, it would be a suicide to wait for the finals.”
“Oh, so you do something else other than think about me,” you tease, nudging him with your leg.
“Hey! I don’t think about you,” he replies firmly, frowning.
“Sure,” you huff, waving him off. “So, what do you know?”
“Well, all the basis we learnt last year, so the definition of sound, the path it follows, how it’s perceived based on the medium and how fast it travels through them, slowest through gases, faster through liquids, and fastest through solids, and that temperature effects it as well.”
You smile, content with the reply but you want to test him more. “What about the five characteristics of sound?”
“You think that’s a difficult one?” He asks, almost disappointed at the easiness of your question.
“Well, if you want to impress me so bad, I could ask you to list all the types of compressors?”
“You already know that?” He questions, quirking a brow, trying to think why he doesn’t remember them. “Wait, we didn’t do that in class.”
You laugh. “See, you’re witty. No, we haven’t done that yet, but since you love producing so much, I thought you knew it as personal knowledge.”
“Why do you talk as if you don’t want to do the same job as mine?” There’s a bit of annoyance in his tone, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes.
You shrug, pressing your lips together before diverting your gaze.
Haechan gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you want to do, yet, because I won’t believe it.”
“It’s not that I don’t know,” you reply, a low huff leaving your lips. “I’d like to try different things out, being a PR manager sounds interesting too. And I’m also pretty good at dancing, so that could be a career path.”
“It’s a shame we didn’t start practical courses, I would love to see you dance.”
“Yeah, sure, so you can mock me some more,” you groan.
He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t enroll in a program if you weren’t absolutely perfect at it, so I can’t come at your skills.”
“You’re so kind, I think I might love you,” you mock, moving closer to him and pouting before pushing him away with a light push on his chest and focusing on your papers again.
“And by the way, I know the characteristics of sound,” he says, right next to your face.  
You smile and think to yourself that this might be fun. “Good, go on and tell me.”
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You don’t get why Haechan’s roommate bicker so much. Not that you could lecture them when, as soon as you walk inside his room, your talks won’t be much different than theirs (worse, probably). But you think you and Haechan, at least, have a reason to fight so much. His roommates are… weird. They are close. They all are, in an annoying way almost, always moving in packs and breaking their back to meet up even if their institutes are scattered around in the Academy. Yet, they get heated pretty easily when they sit in the living room, and you can only blame it on stress as you chuckle, standing against the countertop with a glass of water in hand.
“Donghyuck left you all alone?” Jeno enters the kitchen, distracting you from Renjun screaming at his painting and Mark cursing while he tries to come up with a melody for a small assignment you decided to not worry about —you have Haechan to worry about now.
“Yep, told me to be here at 2 pm just to be in the shower instead,” you reply with a tight smile on your face that makes him laugh and scroll the black hair out of his face.
“My fault,” he explains while pouring himself a glass. “I convinced him to stay at the basketball field when we finished and he couldn’t meet up with you smelling like rotten leftovers forgotten under the august sun.”
“Creative writing?” You ask after you chuckle at his description.
“Nope, photography, Renjun’s worst nightmare.”
You laugh. “It’s because you leave all those big things around his room, right?”
“Our room,” he says, empathising on the first word.
“Okay, communism king, your room but I don’t think your comrade is happy about it.”
Jeno laughs, and hums before gulping down a sip of water. “I’m not rich yet to afford a studio so he’ll have to deal with his bestie working, sweating, and crying his way to the top.”
“You could’ve been a nepo baby and have everything handed to you.”
“Sucks not to be one. I wouldn’t even bother being in Uni, just leaving my best life with my camera and daddy’s money.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Haechan says entering the kitchen, hair still damp and casual housewear on.
“None of your business,” you reply, placing the glass in the sink and walking to the door. “Come on, we have a song to create. It could be our first Billboard number one.”
Haechan sighs, snatching the bottle of water from Jeno’s hand, briefly confused at his grinning face, and then follows you quickly.
“Are you trying to hit on my friends?” He asks, closing the door behind.
“Would you mind?”
“Yes, I’d hate having to deal with you in our group hangouts.”
“You already deal with me. More than you should since you always come to me even when we could not be together,” you say, tilting your head to the side, and sitting on your assigned chair. “Are you perhaps jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”
“Nah, you can go and fuck all of them right no—”
“Okay,” you don’t even let him finish and you’re at the door, but he springs after you and stops you.
“What are you doing? I was kidding!”
“Why? Since when you can tell me what to do?”
Haechan groans and drags you back to your place, but he doesn’t sit just yet, he’s bent over to be close to you. “I need you here with me to work on this goddam song, and then you can go and have a gangbang in the living room, I don’t care.”
“You’d be mad you won’t be part of it,” you joke, having the time of your life watching his pissed-off expression as he stomps loudly back at his place. “Accept that you will never win with me, and maybe you won’t be so triggered every time we talk.”
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“Shit, it’s late,” you murmur, lifting your head from the lyrics you’re trying to write down. Now you got the theme —it’s a love song that you hope won’t turn lame— and even a faint idea of a tune, and while Haechan tried to get inspired by other songs and tried instruments he wants to add to the track, you worked on the words.
“Don’t you think we’re trying too hard?” He whispers, placing the guitar on his bed before standing up and stretching.
“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your neck so you can look at him after you turn around on the rotating chair.
“Music should come to you, it should be… spontaneous.”
You’d want to roll your eyes, mostly for the spontaneous part, but he’s right. Most artists don’t think about the songs they make, the song comes to their mind when they’re not thinking about it.
“Yes, but do you think we’re doing such a shitty job with this?”
He shakes his head, walking closer to you. “Not totally, I just think that if we want to be on top, we have to work around it differently.”
You gulp when he hovers over you and grips the side of the chair tightly. “Like?”
“We should… relax. Take our mind off of it and just wait for it to come,” he glances at the desk, studying the crumpled tries you gave up on and the only three phrases you were happy with written on the tablet. “We should get inspired,” he whispers, and you’re once again so focused on his face that you don’t feel his hand on your thigh, under the long black skirt you’re wearing, it surely must’ve been on you for a while if the fabric was already crumpled up and his fingers teased the hem of your panties between your hips and stomach.
“Is — is this how you inspire people?” You ask, glancing down with a rising chest but for some reason not pulling away.
“Don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” he chuckles, slowly moving closer to your core, observing the small signs of your body. “Should we see if it works?”
You hate him. You should be working on that lyric for the last half hour you have left. You hate him. He’s making it impossible for you to stick to your ‘minding my business’ plan that had worked through all your school years. You hate him, you do, and yet you nod, humming a feeble ‘yes,’ in response.
“Good,” rolls out of his lips, and it sounds so different from his usual tone, you can’t help but feel hot.
Your nails sink in the chair when his fingers slip right against your clit after he had your consent and starts teasing it.
“So, it’s a love song…” he says, and you frown, heart pumping louder as for a second you think he led you on and you looked like a pathetic horny loser, but his hand is still playing with your pussy and his face is still close to yours. “Chose that because you have somebody in mind?”
“We literally picked it for a reason last week, you —”
“God,” he shushes you up, pushing the panties to the side and teasing your entrance, it’s already damp, but not enough how he wants it. “Can you stop being so rational for once? I know why we picked it; remember I’m trying to inspire you.”
“Wait, you really think some fingering can inspire me to write a love so—” your words shut down when he places a hand on your mouth, eyes widening but pussy leaking an embarrassing amount of cum.
He quirks a brow in surprise and, shortly after, a smug smirk curls his lips. “Oh, so you’re into that?”
You can’t reply, but even if you could’ve, you’re not sure you would’ve said anything.
“So, anybody in mind?”
You shake your head. Your love life has been anything but exciting, and after a few tries, you were sure it wasn’t what you needed to focus on, especially because nobody sparked your interest. Nobody was worth moving your focus from your studies.
“Great, so I guess that’ll have to be me.”
“What?” You mutter muffled, closing your legs and moving on the chair.
Haechan rolls his eyes in his skull, keeping you in place. “Oh, come on, you can fake it for a few minutes. Don’t act disgusted, I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he says.
“Not yet.”
“I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he retorts after he pushes into you with two fingers, staring right into your eyes.
You bite back a moan and a curse under your breath. “Fine, but I don’t want to think,” you say. “Just, prove it to me. If you’re good, I’ll be inspired and I’ll come up with the lyrics, if you suck, we’ll go back to our original method.”
Haechan hates that he constantly has to prove things to you, and he hates even more that he does it, almost as if he’s your dog and he has to follow your orders while you keep him on a leash. But if this will work to come up with a great song, and in his outer-songwriting-course-plan to distract you, he won’t complain.
Honestly, he couldn’t complain even if it only meant to finger you. He might want to fight you every time he sees your face but, damn, what a face.
“Shit,” you moan. You don’t want to give him too much satisfaction, but he knows what he’s doing and it’s been way too long since someone touched you like that. Damn, even since you touched yourself like that. Maybe the whole ‘staring at your goals’ was taking some funny things away from you.
“Do you want to turn the song into a Hozier song?”
You huff, you just asked him one thing and his mouth is running again doing the opposite. “You wish you were this good to inspire a Hozier type of song.”
“Really?” He taunts, pressing his thumb on your clit, starting to tease the throbbing nub in circles.
“Yes,” your voice trembles, but your face shows confidence.
Haechan snickers, quickening the pace of his fingers, watching you fight against yourself to not show how much you’re loving it. “One second of this mouth on your pussy and I’d make you change your mind,” he whispers right against your ears, hot breath fanning your skin. “It’s a shame you don’t deserve it.”
You groan, head rolling back in disappointment, and that makes him laugh.
“You have to think twice before running that mouth, babe. Especially with me.”
“Never,” you talk back, opening your eyes and regretting as soon as they meet his. His gaze is too intense, and your brain is too far gone to keep it up.
Haechan only grins, enjoying your wrecked face and the sounds your pussy is making as his fingers keep working on you. You might try to deny him, but your body is speaking to him, and deeply so are you. It’s in your eyes, and your lips trembling, and in the beautiful moans that are rolling out of your tongue.
“Are you close, brat?”
You don’t have it in you to complain, or retort, the orgasm is right around the corner and you fear he would ruin the experience if you said something out of line.
“Answer me,” he orders, lightly slapping your thigh.
“Yes,” you breathe out, biting your lower lip to prevent the whole house from hearing you.
“Good,” he replies, smiling proudly and starting to move faster in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he reaches the base, and torturing your clit with his thumb. And when it’s too much for you, you come. Body trembling against the chair, and legs pushing up as the shocks of pleasure run through you.
“Acid when you talk but sweet to taste,” he hums after pulling out his fingers from his mouth and you only glare at him as you quickly try to get yourself together again. 
“It’s late,” he says, staring at the clock. “Go home and let me know if this was useful somehow. And not by replaying it in your mind at night wishing I was there with you.” He winks and you slap his shoulder hard. “What the hell!”
“I won’t come up with anything on purpose, and I swear if you keep being so annoying, I’ll be terrible at this.”
“You would never, this makes up like 80% of our final grade.” He challenges you with a glare.  
“If I go down, you go down with me,” you retort, face to face, fiercely looking into his eyes.  
“It’s not smart of you.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” you smile sweetly before it drops from your face. “It’s a threat.”
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It’s not like you’re trying to avoid him after what happened, but that’s exactly what’s going on. You don’t regret the act per se, you just can’t believe it was so easy for you to agree to do that with him. And you know he will use it against you for eternity.
A very dumb move from your side to give him the possibility to tease you even more and about something you couldn’t defend yourself from.
But if you try your best to change corridors when you see him from afar, walk quickly back to your dorm room, and sit on the opposite side in class (you fail at keeping your mouth quiet, but you need to discuss with him during lessons), it seems like he’s doing everything he can to be on your path.
“I’m starting to believe you’re a stalker,” you huff, clearly scaring him when you stop abruptly in the middle of the library and make him stop in his tracks.
“I’m not.”
You raise a brow, staring at him until he huffs and throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, fine, I was following you but only because I wanted to know what you will study.”
“Why do you care so much about what I study?”
“So I know how to beat you?”
“Isn’t it more exciting if you beat me only using your brain by putting some knowledge in it without seeing my cards?” You say, pushing a finger on his chest and making him walk backwards until his back hits the bookshelf behind him.
“I think sneaky games are funnier, though,” he whispers, hand moving to rest on your side. “Especially with you.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, and taking a step back, freeing yourself from his hold. “The games you’re playing are not sneaky. Why are you always in my business?”
He shrugs. “Why not? So, what are we studying today?”
“We are not studying together.”
“Why? Isn’t it funny? The same study method, same hours, but one of us will be better than the other. That’s a truly equal comparison.”
You run a hand on your face and keep walking to find what you need. “If you didn’t distract me every two seconds, I would’ve already been like five pages into my studying session.”
“Oh, please, you are wondering around the library anyway. I’m just keeping you company.” His body follows yours like a shadow, his heat radiating so close to your skin that you think you might go insane.
“I don’t want your company,” you say, moving your eyes swiftly over the books in front of you as you try to find what you are looking for in the sociology section. When you finally find it, reminding yourself you have to buy it so you can annotate directly on yours, you walk back to your table, but Haechan is still beside you like a puppy on a string. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“I could, and I’d want to, but I can’t,” he says, sitting at your side, smiling widely when you glare at him.
“This is a useless lesson for you,” you try to dismiss him.
“Is it? Because we have the same ones.”
“Jesus, okay, fine,” you give up, throwing your head back and raising your voice enough to make some heads turn in your direction. His biggest talent is to exasperate you. “But we give ourselves a timing, and then when we’re done, we’ll have to answer five questions.”
“And who answers to them all?” He asks, there’s a taunting edge in his voice, and a grin on his face.
“Is the best,” you reply as if it’s obvious.
“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”
“Being better than you is the prize.”
Haechan scoffs, and he hates to admit in his mind that he finds your snarky remarks so fucking hot, if you weren’t in a public library and if his job on earth wasn’t to detest you, he would’ve already had you bent on the table.
“I love how you’re always so sure of being better than me.”
You snicker and send him a flying kiss. “Honey, I am better than you.”
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“Wait, I just left out a detail!” You almost scream when you compare your answers for the nth time because you can’t believe he has done slightly better than you.
“That detail is important,” Haechan replies unfazed by your indignation.
“No, it’s not. We would have the same score if this was graded,” you insist, feeling more angered than you should. It’s nothing serious, it shouldn’t be serious, but with him, there’s your pride on the line.
“But this is between me and you, so I win. Also, my phrasing in the second answer is better than yours.”
“Shut up, it’s not.”
“It is, and you just have to admit you lost,” he insists, leaning over, staring at you with a challenging raised brow.  
You swallow, eyebrows furrowing, and then you sigh. “Your advantage is minimal. And you only won a battle, because I’m winning a war.”
“Fine, Napoleon, I still won and you’re coming to my place even Saturday so we can do this some more.”
“Hey, Napoleon sucked! He lost the most important battles, the only ones he should’ve won.”
“That’s why I called you that,” he winks, clicking his tongue mockingly.  
“Oh, you think you will win the war? You’re wrong, honey, Waterloo is yours.”
Haechan laughs, standing up after putting his things in his bag. “I’m waiting for you on Saturday…” he says and before you can complain he starts singing, “Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…”
“Oh, shut up!” You say, hitting his arm as you push him away, but he giggles and walks away continuing with the tune.
“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to…”
And you think that if only he didn’t try to sabotage your final grades in Music History, you might even find him funny.
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Haechan hates you.
If he was sure he didn’t before, he is sure that he does now.
He can’t wrap his head around the fact that you, Miss zero social skills, and negative 100 friends, can be so good at debating. On every fucking topic. You’re well-spoken, witty, smart, somehow it looks like you know everything about everything. And even when you don’t know (and you always specify it — which he shouldn’t find so hot, but he does) you always come up with perfectly thought theories and analyses coming from the small knowledge you have on the topic. The thing he also hates is that you never sound like you’re showing off your skills, it’s just really nice to listen to you and —when he’s not the one intervening against you— you’re the sweetest person ever and everybody in every class absolutely adores you.
He wonders if you’re a robot. Maybe you’re some sort of artificial intelligence sent there to conduct studies on humans’ stupidity, and he was unlucky enough to start a fight with you. You just don’t seem real. And he’d love to dig deeper but he doubts he will find anything relevant.
You might be smart, but you also look incredibly boring. He tried to find out if you had interests, or anything that could distract you, but his research led nowhere. The biggest problem is that he hates you, but not to the point that he wants to get you suspended from University, so he has to find another way to make you slip.
Apparently, you’re playing the same game, but even at this, you are thinking faster and smarter.
“Where the fuck are all my anthropology notes?” Haechan mutters as he looks through his library, moving books and notebooks around, thinking he has gone insane. “Mark!” He screams, rushing to the desk to search again but he knows where he left everything; on the second shelf of the small library in his room, on top of the music theory book that hasn’t moved since a week.
“Yes?” His housemate peaks from the door only with his head.
“Did you mistake our notes?”
“What notes?” Mark furrows, backing away from his friend who looks out of his mind.
“The anthropology notes,” he says, voice full of annoyance because, why does Mark never know anything? He’s in the same course and, yet, he’s always somewhere else with his head. 
“Man, I don’t even take notes during that lesson.”
“What do you mean you don’t? Ugh, never mind,” Haechan groans, rolling his eyes because he can’t believe he can’t count on anybody. “Have you seen them somewhere?”
“Nope,” Mark replies, entering the room. “I mean, I don’t know what they look like.”
“You know right we have a test tomorrow? The winter break is close, and some courses have it. You are studying, right?”
“Yeah, just not every…thing…”
Haechan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Why don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s not really music related but it teaches you so much about other cultures and there’s a whole part about how music is different from culture to culture.”
“Next semester, we didn’t get there, yet. It’s a bunch of complicated terminology and theories I just don’t get,” Mark defends. He never understood why Haechan loved studying so much. He is only there for the music, and a few other theoretical lessons, but some courses don’t make any sense to him.  
“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”
“I just want a decent result; I don’t strive for perfection like you and your girlie.”
Haechan almost chokes on his saliva. “My girlie? Who’s my girlie?”
“That girl in class you always get into heated arguments with, and then she comes here and I’m pretty sure you make out when no one’s watching,” Mark says so calmly it infuriates Haechan more than if he was teasing him.  
“Shut the hell up! She’s my mortal enemy and while you have been paired with Yangyang for the song project, Professor Park thought it was nice putting her and me together.”
“Yeah, you can still make out with your mortal enemy,” he snorts, hitting his friend with a playful elbow hit.  
“Mark, shut up and leave, I have to study,” he tries to cut short, pushing his friend out of the room.  
“With what notes?”
“I don’t know. I left them on the shelf, and nobody entered my room since Saturday when she — Oh, my God.”
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When your name resonates in the empty classroom after you’ve taken the anthropology test, your blood freezes for a second.
“Haechannie,” you cheer cheekily, turning around and pushing your tote bag far up your shoulders.
“Don’t,” he warns, lifting a finger to stop you from starting anything. “I have to talk to you.”
“Sure, the test was easy, right? You might have beaten me this time,” you say but you have to hold back a laugh when you scan his furious, pissed-off expression.
“Yeah, if you studied, it was,” he retorts venously.  
“And you surely studied,” you say, faking innocence.  
“You can study when you have something to study on,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Yes, and you do,” you still play dumb, but when he calls your surname, you know he’s not joking anymore. “Yes?”
“Do you, perhaps, know where the fuck my notes are?”
You look around, shrugging. “Where are your notes, Donghyuck?”
“I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason,” he retorts, plastering a fake smile that doesn’t reflect in the darkness of his pupils.
“They might’ve mixed up with my stuff when you invited me over Saturday?” You sing-song, tilting your head to the side and shrugging.
“Might’ve,” he repeats, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “It was just a coincidence.”
You shrug again, pushing your lower lip in a pout. “Sometimes… things happen.”
“And if it wasn’t on purpose, why couldn’t you just text me?”
“Because I didn’t notice,” you reply innocently, batting your lashes, knowing it will get on his nerves even more.  
He groans, closing his eyes to calm himself down before he speaks again, “then how do you know?”
“Don’t know, just making assumptions,” you say. “It turns out I’m really good at it.”
“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”
“To what? Choke me because I got my revenge? Oh, it turns out it’s really not that funny when someone plays with you?” You mock, and in doing so you get closer to him.
“Goddamn,” he groans before your back meets the hard wall of the room and his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, his hands on your body and yours limp at your side as you’re too shocked to react. “I want to — I want to kill you, actually.”
You smirk, chuckling straight at his face. “Filled the space with the wrong letter, ‘cause you’re kissing me.”
“Maybe my kiss is lethal, maybe there’s poison on my lips.”
“Oh, you’re so romantic you’d die for me?” You coo, placing a hand on your heart.
Haechan groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you always so, so, so, God,” he curses, running his fingers in his hair. “I want my notes back, now.”
“I don’t have them,” you say, grinning because he looks wrecked. You know it wasn’t very morally mature for you, but it was only fair. Also, you know he doesn’t arrive last minute with anything, he had already studied everything and you’re sure he had answered everything on that paper, he just couldn’t revisit.
“My notes back when you pass by for the project or it’s war.”
“It’s already war,” you retort when he walks past you to leave.  
Haechan turns around, locking his gaze with yours. “Oh, honey, it can get so much worse than this.”
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You felt like testing your luck when his notes weren’t back on his desk, but you had no idea it could get worse than that, until it got.
When he deleted an essay from your computer and you had to remake and finish the work of five days in five hours, so you cancelled a project he was working on for another assignment you had. And then he erased the recording of a course from your phone, so you ripped his notebook in front of his eyes (and his roommates too). The list of petty things is long, and you’re not really proud (you’re sure not even Haechan is) of what you did, especially when things started becoming personal. You two want to destroy each other, but you are honestly just killing yourselves in the meantime.
Your book slams closed so hard that you almost zip your hands in it, and by protecting your fingers you lose track of where you’ve been. “Get lost,” you whisper bitterly as soon as you recognize the hand that did that.
“No thanks,” he replies, sitting next to you.
“I’m trying to read a book in the quiet of the library, so can you leave me alone?”
“It’s a public space, I can sit wherever I want,” he replies, leaning back into the chair, and widening his legs under the table. You know ‘cause you feel his knee push against yours and you have to retract your leg to avoid the contact.  
You glare at him, breathing deeply through your nose because you can’t make a scene here. You two almost got kicked out of a class two days ago, and that was humiliating enough. So, you think that ignoring him is the best thing you can do.
“Wow, so you have a bit of self-control and don’t talk back. Never thought I’d see that day,” he replies sarcastically to your silence with an amused grin that curls his lips.
You hold back a scream and huff loudly, “I truly need you to get fucked right now.”
“Nevermind,” he jokes, pulling a tight forced smile and you close the book again, now too annoyed to even focus on the words on the paper. “I came here in peace, by the way.”
“Yeah, your peace is war in my country,” you reply bitterly, trying to shift away but those damn chairs make the loudest sounds at the smallest movements.  
“That’s because you’re full of prejudices.”
You inhale deeply, rubbing your temple to soothe the headache you know is about to arrive. “Haechan, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”
He smiles, happy you are finally willing to listen, before he clears his throat. “Okay so, I have to say that some of this is funny. I mean, only the debates and these random talks, but I’m not the biggest fan of all the other stuff we’re doing, so why don’t we bring it back?”
“Bring it back? As in?” You question, raising a brow in confusion.
“I liked it better when we would just compete without tearing ourselves down. If you cancel, ruin, or save one of my projects with the word boobs in it before sending it to the professor another time, I will go insane.”
You hold back a chuckle. You have to admit it was your lowest move, but it was quite funny when Professor Choi had a whole talk in class about being careful before sending out finished projects and exposed him in front of the class.
“No, it wasn’t funny,” he mutters sternly, watching you fight with all the muscles of your face to don’t break into a laugh.
“No, sorry, it was,” you defend, voice trembling, threatening a chuckle to come out. “Like Iloveboobsdemo1 is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. That could be the title of our song.”
“If you want to get expelled from all the academies in the world that would be a perfect idea,” he says, trying to be serious because seriously it wasn’t funny, but when you stare into each other’s eyes for too long none of you two can hold back the laughter anymore. “Okay, fine. It was funny, but I don’t want that to happen again.”
“So? Do you give up?” You taunt, tilting your head after placing it on your palms.
“I’m not giving up, we are changing strategies of our combat.”
“Oh, okay. You will lose anyway in the end, so if this can be more beneficial for me in the meantime, it’s fine.”
He sighs, rubbing his temples, and you chuckle. “Don’t laugh,” he whispers distraught. “I… could you sometimes at least pretend to give me some kind of chance of winning with you and not feeling like you’ll always have the last laugh?”
“I just replied.”
“No, a reply would’ve been ‘Yes, Haechan, don’t worry, we can change it.”
“Too wordy,” you comment, waving him off with a movement of hand.
“You said like ten words more,” he replies, voice breaking in his throat in a whine, but you decide to act as if you don’t notice.  
“It still flowed better. See, that’s why the lyrics are in my hands. You’re really not good with words.”
“You keep doing that,” he groans, slamming a hand on the table, attracting some curious eyes on you before you glare them away. “But it’s fine, okay, so… no more dirty games? No more sabotaging?”
“Yes, no more. Well, not like this, but we can still play a bit, right?” You ask, retracting your hand right when you’re about to hold his to seal the deal.
“Yes, but nothing weird, or you know what I mean.”
You hum, reaching out again and shaking his hand. “It’s a deal, then?”
“It’s a deal.”
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The deal somehow turns into Haechan always being next to you. He’s like a shadow, sitting next to you in class, studying with you in the library, and so on. You don’t mind him when he minds his business, but he rarely does. Especially during lessons when you need to focus on what the professors are saying.
You roll your eyes when Haechan sneaks a paper next to your notebook and you read ‘how would a dog wear pants’ with two badly drawn different options on it.
“Does it look like the right moment?” You whisper under your breath, side-eyeing him, and trying to keep your focus on the lesson. You see him nod and decide to mark the second option, thinking that he’d be happy with it, but he has the urge to hear a whole dissertation on something that will never happen, right now.
“Why?” He asks as if you’re not in the middle of a lecture.
“Not now.”
“But this lesson is boring,” he whines, poking your side with his elbow.  
You huff, covering it with a cough when you realize it is too loud, and then take a sip from your bottle of water.
“You didn’t answer,” Haechan insists, this time poking your arm with the cap of the pencil. 
“I picked one,” you mutter, pointing at the paper with your head.  
“Elaborate and change my mind.”
“You think it’s the first one?” You say in disbelief, the utter shock causing the tone of your voice to be louder than you expected.
“Any problems there?” The Professor asks, and you feel your blood freeze.
“Mh, no, nothing, my pen has no more ink, I was asking for another one,” you lie, thanking God you two are sitting far in the back of the class and the Professor can’t hear and can’t see that your pen isn’t dead at all. So, with a suspicious nod, the middle-aged man goes on with the lecture while Haechan giggles beside you.
You glare at him, and he shrugs raising his hands. “If you kept quiet, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“If you let me concentrate on the lesson instead of asking dumb questions, it wouldn’t have happened,” you retort, and he laughs under his breath again, but doesn’t ask more questions. He still ruins your notes with ugly flowers and other drabbles and you let him be because at least he’s being silent and paying attention.
“So, you really are giving up,” you say when the bell rings and the class starts emptying.
“What makes you think that?” He asks, putting his things in his bag, just like you.
“You didn’t write anything down.”
Haechan shrugs. “Why would I? I have your notes.”
“No, you don’t,” you say but before you can realize he rips the notebook from your hands and snaps a picture of the two pages you wrote. “Hey! That’s not fair. That’s my work.”
“Your amazing summarizing skills and my artistic skills. I don’t gift beautiful sunflowers to just anybody.”
“Beautiful sunflowers?” You snicker, starting to walk down the stairs, pushing the notebook into your bag as Haechan follows at your side. “If Renjun saw them he would have a heart attack.”
“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”
“Keep Picasso out of your mouth,” you say threateningly.
“Still, aren’t you happy you will think of me while studying?” He bats his lashes, and you hold back an entertained grin.
“Can’t wait to go through the absolute most painful ulcers every time I glance down on those things.”
He gasps offended, bringing a hand on his chest. “See, this is what happens when you spend all your days on socials and your brain doesn’t know how to appreciate real art anymore.”
“You are so annoying, and distracting. Next time if you sit next to me, I’ll push you off the chair,” you warn, and only when a colder blow of wind hits you, you realize you’re walking back to your places together.
“Right!” He says and you think it’s the good time he leaves you alone, but no, he’s not done. “You didn’t explain why the dog would wear it only on its hind legs.”
“Is it really that serious? Why do you want to know so badly?”
“It’s funny. I’m sick and tired of hearing you only discuss music, sociology, and the media and other stuff.”
You sigh. But you still have a bit to walk, so you might as well have to deal with him and his hypothesis about dogs. “Because pants have to cover your lower body, so legs, and ass and everything else. If you wear them like the first option, half of the ass is out. And also, the back limbs correspond to our legs, we’re divided in half horizontally, not vertically.”
He doesn’t reply right away, processing your answer. And you think you broke him.
“Oh!” You exclaim. “Zootopia, animals wear clothes like the second picture.”
“Really? You had a whole statement that made perfect sense and then you added a cartoon to your thesis?”
“But it still makes sense,” you argue back. “And, most importantly, I made you agree with me,” you wink before stopping when you reach your complex.
“Fine, fine, you’re right,” he gives up before looking behind you. “You live here?”
You nod, searching for the keys in the tote bag, and you think it’s time to stop pretending that’s Mary Poppins’ bag and throw away some useless stuff.
“I thought there were only rooms here,” he states, looking at the big complex a few meters away from the university.  
“There are common dormitories, and then there are some one-room flats. I got one with a scholarship when I graduated. It’s less expensive than an apartment and I get a small place all to myself.”
“Oh,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he thought you had roommates. “So, you’re alone, alone?”
“No, you can’t come in,” you say.
“I didn’t ask that,” he frowns, offended you would even imply that. “I thought you… well, oh, never mind.”
“Yes, I’m alone, so I can do whatever the hell I want. If I want to cook, I cook. If I want to stay up all night to study, I do that. If I want to dry the clothes in the middle of the living room, that is also the bedroom and the kitchen, I do that.”
“Is it really that small?”
“It’s decent, I guess. It’s spacious enough to live in it comfortably but not big to the point I have to waste days cleaning it.”
“Maybe we could study there, no loud roommates screaming in the living room.”
“I like the mess of your place, and I’ll be there Friday.”
Haechan rolls his eyes. “Come on, I hate the library. Can’t we for once study at your place?”
“I never invited you to my studying sessions,” you groan.
“But you love it.”
“No.”
“Yes, you have an orgasm every time you know something better than me.”
“Please, shut up,” you wave him off, starting to walk away.
“I don’t care, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he screams when you’re too far, clearly running away from him.  
“And I’ll be at the library!”
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You never go to the library, to be honest, you were just unlucky enough that the washing machine thought it was the right moment to leak all over the floor and Haechan found you at home with your coat on the couch, the tote bag next to the door and your jeans half soaked as you tried to fix the mess on the pavement.
From that moment, your meet-ups become more and more periodic, whether it’s at your place, his or at the library. You hate to admit it, but the competition drives you forward, and you love seeing his face every time you defeat him somehow.
“Are you busy this Saturday?” He asks while he strums with the guitar to come up with a chord progression for your song.
“Yeah, why?” You reply, poking the cap of the pen to your cheeks, drifting your eyes on him.
“Want to go out with me?”
“What? Saturday is my day to study and do my things like I want to,” you say. It was the only day, along with Sunday, you had to fix all your notes without being wrecked from the lessons of the day, or listen to lessons while cleaning the house, and so on. You tried to squeeze everything there so Sunday could be your free day and you could dedicate it to your hobbies and to write for the magazine you worked for, nothing too serious, just some money to add to the survival costs that your parents would send you, and the monthly entrance you had when you would get called to help a dance studio downtown.
“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”
You huff, slumping back on the chair. “No, we’re not. I’m busy.”
“You can take one afternoon for me,” he replies, placing the instrument next to him. “Come on, it will be fun.”
“Where would you even take me?”
Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”
When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.
You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.
When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.
“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”
“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”
Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”
“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”
“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”
“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”
“You have a car?”
“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.  
You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”
“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.
Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”
“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.
“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.  
You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.
“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.
“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.  
“Wanted to take the metro?”
You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”
“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”
You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”
“You have a car?”
“No, I have a driving playlist.”
“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”
“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.
Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”
“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’
“Oh God,” he whispers.
“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.
“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”
You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.
“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.  
“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.
You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”
“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”
“Once,” you reply immediately.
“Twice, with the kiss…”
“You did that to shut me up.”
“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”
You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.
“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”
“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”
“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”
“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”
He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”
“And attracted to honey.”
“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”
“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”
You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”
“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”
“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”
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The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.
“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.
“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”
“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”
“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”
“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.  
“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”
“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”
You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”
“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”
“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”
Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”
“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.
“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.
You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.
“But it was still better than this, I guess?”
You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”
He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”
You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”
His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”
“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”
Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”
“I have some notes to edit and —”
“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”
You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”
It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.
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“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.
“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.
“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.
“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.
“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”
“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture. 
Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.
“Haechan, what are y—”
“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”
You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.
“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”
“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”
“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.
He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”
Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”
“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.
You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.
“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.
“Yeah?”
“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”
He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”
“What if they lock us inside?”
“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”
You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.
“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”
“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.
“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.
You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”
His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”
“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”
“Yeah, until you forget everything.”
You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.
“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”
You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.
“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.
Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”
You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.
His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”
You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.
“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”
“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.
“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”
“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.
“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.
“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”
You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”
“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”
You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.
He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”  
“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”
“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.
“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”
“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”
Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.
“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”
“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.
His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”
“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.
“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.
You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”
“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”
You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.
“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”
“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.
“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”
“Stop mocking me!”
“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”
You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.
“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.
“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.
He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.
When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.
“Eager, honey?”
“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.
“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.
You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.
One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.
Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.
“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.
You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.
“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”
“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.
“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”
You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.
“Yeah? And who’s that?”
“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.
“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”
You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.
“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”
“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.
Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”
“You’re not the professor so…”
“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”
You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”
Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.
“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”
You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.
Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”
“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”
When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.
“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”
You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.
“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”
“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.  
“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”
“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”
Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”
You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.
“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”
“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.
“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”
You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.
“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.  
“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”
Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.
“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”
“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.   
“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”
You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.
“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”
“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.   
Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”
“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.
“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.
“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”
“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face.  And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.
“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”
You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.
You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.
“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.
“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.
“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.
“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.
“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”
You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.
“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”
You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”
Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”
“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.
“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”
You chuckle, deciding to believe him.
“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.
“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”
He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”
“They locked us in!”
He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”
“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.
“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”
“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”
“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.
“No,” you say resolutely.  
“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.
“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.
Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.
And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.
When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.
You can’t believe you followed him blindly.
Your hands are still intertwined.
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With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.
There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.
Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.
Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.
He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.
You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.
But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.
“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.
“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”
“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.
What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.
“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.
“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.
You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”
“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.
“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.
“Are you hinting at something?”
“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”
“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”
“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”
“Do you?” He winks.
“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.
“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”
“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.
He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.
But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.
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“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.
“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”
You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.
“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”
Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.
“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.
“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”
“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.
“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”
“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”
“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.
He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.
You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.
His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.
“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”
“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.
Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.
“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.
I played with your heart.
And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.
“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”
“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.
“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.
“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”
“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”
He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”
You roll your eyes. “Really?”
“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”
“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”
“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.
“That’s a crazy choice.”
“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.
“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.
One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.  
“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.
“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.
Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”
You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”
“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”
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“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.
“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.  
“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”
“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.
“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”
Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.
“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”
Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”
You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”
“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”
You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”
He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.
“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”
He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.
You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.
You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.
“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”
You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.
You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.
The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.
“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”
You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”
“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”
“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.
“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.
“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.
“Yeah but —”
“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”
“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.
Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.
And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.
Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.
“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.
The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.
“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”
You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.
Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”
Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.
He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”
Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.
“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.
“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.
It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.
“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.
“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.
When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”
You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.
“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”
When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.
“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”
You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.
You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.
“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”
You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.
There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.
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“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”
You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”
Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.
“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.  
You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.
“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.
“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”
You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”
You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”
“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.
“Yeah, just coffee.”
He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”
“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.
A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”
“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.
Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”
“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.
“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”
“Who’s fucking?”
“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.
“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.
“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.
“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.
Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”
“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.
“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”
“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.
“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.  
“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.
“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”
“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”
“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.
You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”
When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.
“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.
“What?”
“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”
He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”
You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.
“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.
“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”
“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”
“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”
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you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)
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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
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Š neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 
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970 notes ¡ View notes
that-student-that-has-homework ¡ 9 months ago
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Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01
Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him
Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList
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Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife
To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award
They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.
Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general. 
I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father
I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids
Thing is, that’s both your faults.
Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own? 
(Your husband is hot okay?)
In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.
I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.
His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.
He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.
He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible
Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.
While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves. 
For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.
But they had to build it themselves.
It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.
Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.
It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)
Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help
(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)
Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.
They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once
Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night
He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills
You had to help out here, no lie.
He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again
He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes
especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies
He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp. 
Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.
You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.
He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles
Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)
"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"
"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"
"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"
If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are
Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.
At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.
His arm is on your waist most of the time.
They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.
He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.
You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!
So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.
It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.
Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.
Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.
He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle
Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.
When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.
Oh no, hugs galore.
Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though
When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp
Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.
I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection
Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)
It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter
His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.
"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"
"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"
Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA
The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result
Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something
Ace is his kids’ hero.
His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.
His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating
You're relieved
Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving
Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better
When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”
Ace loves you so much he swears
2K notes ¡ View notes
almostempty ¡ 3 months ago
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Look at this photograph
(joel miller x f!reader)
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The half sequel (Chapter 1.5) to Never made it as a wise man
WC: 3.5k | Part 1 | Other fics | Rating: 18+ 
Summary: you open Joel’s dick pic and (after examination) decide to give him a call
Note: it’s me ya boi (gn), back with more divorceddadrockdilf!joel bc you guys get me. i know y’all want them to fuck, and I want them to fuck too. unfortunately, this flowed through me first, and I am merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. 
so, until they get their freak nasty on, please enjoy this as a chapter 1.5, with gratuitous dick pic art critique and crankin’ it over the phone <3 don’t worry, he’s still a lil pathetic. mistakes and bad jokes are all on me. 
Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where ch.1 ended, dick pic descriptions, alternating pov, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, it’s all just phone sex, but edge yourself through it with fond memories of ch. 1, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc
inspo playlist i found on spotify: Divorced Dad Rock: BANGERZ
thanks: to @hellishjoel for hosting the #hotdilfsummerchallenge and to everyone who enjoyed part 1 
@gothcsz i promise fuckboy!joel is cookin, he’s just in the crockpot rn. he’s gotta tenderize like a white lady’s pinterest recipe for pulled pork. 
* i tried to tag everyone who wanted more, but if you don’t wanna be here i’ll remove it <3 or if i missed you and you want to be tagged next time pls let me know
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“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you blurt out after opening the message from Joel. The vulgar dick pic sends a prickly worm of arousal slithering down your spine. 
Without thinking, you tilt the phone down toward your chest, and your eyes shoot up like you’ve got to make sure nobody saw your naughty message. Warmth blooms on your cheeks as the flash of embarrassment starts to dissolve. You don’t need to hide. 
You’re in your bed, in your apartment, wearing Joel’s grubby Creed t-shirt. The one that smells like Degree Sport and a Jiffy Lube break room. You're free to look at all the dick pics your heart desires. And that’s what you’re going to do. 
The wiggle of bashful energy turns into a squirm as you shift your hips, seeking a comfy position in bed. The t-shirt bunches up under your back and you wonder if the unique Joel scent of it will linger on your pillow beneath your shoulders. You knew pilfering the shirt on the way out the door was a good move, and now you get to enjoy your trophy. It makes it feel like the broad-as-a-barn-door DILF himself was still close enough to touch you. 
It gives you another bright shudder when you think about the noises he made when he came in your hand earlier. The disappointed grunts of “fuck, wait” and how he tried to choke down the throaty groan that came from deep in his chest. Fuck. The perverted gremlins that have a permanent residence in your mind have been roused by the digital dick, and now they chitter and squawk at you. More! More! More!  
You reopen the message, and seeing it gives you another rush. You save the picture to your phone storage. For your personal collection. Mine now, big boy. Your chin starts to dip towards your chest. It’s like you’re giving your phone the Kubrick stare with the ghost of a smirk. You’re free to take your time with this one. And you can be as much of a creep as you want. That makes you sigh softly and sink deeper against your pillows. 
Before this afternoon, it was titillating when Joel would pop up in your mind's eye with his slutty slo-mo scenes. The one where he was bent over your car's engine like Megan Fox in that Transformers movie. Or, that damn happy trail tease with the t-shirt-sweat-rag move. You had just enough imagery to let your dirty thoughts take the wheel. 
And, god, you had a good production team in your mind for projects starring Joel. Adding this will give the team a whole lot more to work with. You can hear them crashing around your conscious like the Animaniacs on the Warner Brothers lot. Horny chaos goblin mode activated. 
Now that you have time to study the image, from the luxury of your microfiber sheets and lamplit bedroom, you let it get pervy. It’s your first real, lingering look–earlier today, you were so busy trying to rile him up in his jeans that you didn’t even pull it out.
It had somehow been even more delicious that way. Having him all needy and unable to stop himself from making a mess in your hand. And not just the noises, but the erratic thrusts into your tight fist? The heat of his pulsing length as he forgot himself? Yeah, you’re gonna remember that one. 
But now? Now you need the visual. If the devil is in the details, you have a new neighbor with horns and a tail. 
You zoom in on everything. Holding your phone closer to your face than necessary, like how do we enhance this bitch? 
And holy shit. 
Drool pools in your mouth and between your legs. You have the knee-jerk reaction to lick your phone. 
You can hear Joel’s voice from earlier today. All husky and grumbly, arguing that you really were a slut for him, like, “You are, aren’t you, though? You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt just to see me?”  He might be touch-starved enough to cream his jeans, but you just know he’s got a nasty mouth in bed, and you’ve got to find out firsthand. Soon. There’s no reason not to, right? 
You pause when a flicker of reasoning tickles the back of your neck. 
You’re back to looking in your review mirror in Joel’s driveway. The last-ditch attempt at checking your ego before you marched to his front door like a Halloween hoe bag version of Betty Crocker. 
You had told yourself you weren’t trying to fuck your (almost) friend’s (sort of) dad. Told yourself there was nothing to pursue, and even if there was, you wouldn’t bite. 
You like Ellie. She’s been (mostly) welcoming to you. You told yourself not to fuck anything up with the only person that’s got a single one of your jokes at your new job. 
You were just bringing some food as a friendly gesture. The fresh visuals to add to your spank bank reel were supposed to be a harmless bonus. Okay, maybe it was a stretch to say you had rolled up to Joel’s driveway with pure intentions. 
And it was an even bigger stretch–when he added that third finger while he finger fucked you on the kitchen counter—wait, no. It was an even bigger stretch when you had told yourself you probably weren’t his type anyway. 
Like, that guy? With the fridge full of Coors Banquet? With those ugly Oakley sunglasses that you know are featured in his only picture on social media that isn’t a car or truck? The guy with all the words to Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” and Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me��� memorized? 
Nah, deep down, you knew. You knew there was no way that middle-aged bachelor would turn down any action. But you hadn’t planned on actually making a move, especially not a handjob in the middle of the kitchen. 
That’s on Joel for leaving the door open while trying to rub one out to some bimbo on Brazzers. And for barking at you in that sexy, angry voice. And for teasing you with the bulge in his oil-stained jeans. What were you supposed to do? 
Something must be really rotting in the logic department of your brain. 
Hey! The gremlin voice in your head is still shouting at you. Hey!! Why are we not tasting that dick yet?!! You’re back from your daydream and the excuses you crafted for your behavior, back to laying in your bed with Joel’s dick pic emitting a bright glow in your hand. 
You still do want to lick the screen. 
Fortunately for your immune system, you control your tongue. The critical part of you expels a sigh when you zoom out and take in the picture. 
It’s undoubtedly a nice cock, but the image as a whole? Yikes. 
Why do men have to be so fucking thick? And blunt? Wait, now you’re just describing the slightly blurry boner lighting up your face. Thick as in dense. How can men be so dense? 
No imagination or creativity. No patience. 
You shake your head slightly, scoffing. No wonder you caught him hunched over his cracked phone screen. It was probably the first video loaded on the only site he had saved. 
No sweet, sweet, buildup, setting the mood, or getting cozy. Just whippin’ it out midday or snapping a photo in some ratty sweats. 
Like you’ve never been that touch-starved or down bad?
You ignore that voice to continue your art critique. 
The photo you sent is… sexy. 
Sultry. A flirty tease. It says, “Look who has your shirt? Am I wearing it in bed? Do you think I'm wearing anything else?” 
It’s all implied in the look in your eye and the picture's composition. The tease of the soft curves on the underside of your breasts, asking if he remembers what they felt like. Your hand bunching up the shirt, asking if he remembers the slide of that fist around his cock. If he remembers those fingers, the ones you sucked his sticky spend off of. 
Such delicately crafted imagery. Personalized erotic fine art.  
But men are so crude about it. He sees your tasteful, sexy pic, and immediately, the best his caveman brain can come up with is: send her ur dick! STAT!! Hard cock! Now!!
And, of course, he did. Taken in the dark with the flash on, making ominous shadows in the background. His old charcoal gray sweats are pulled down just enough to expose everything he’s offering. 
The color is slightly blown out from the flash, and it’s a touch blurry where his phone didn’t autofocus quickly enough. His hand looks like it’s straight up, just choking the base of his cock. It’s jarring. 
But that’s really the “man” of it all, right? Nothing subtle or demure about a rock-hard erection jutting towards you, reaching like it could get to you on its own if it just could get a little bit harder. No, there’s nothing coy about the raw thoughts of a man with no blood left in his brain who’s just aching to get inside you, either. 
And fuck if that doesn’t start to override your critical analysis. 
The glare from the flash reflects in the beads of precome rolling down his rosy tip. Mouth wateringly delicious. Your blood rushes to your pussy, filling your tender sex with heat and a deep, needy itch. It makes you dopey and silly. Not cock drunk, but like, dick pic buzzed. 
You know it felt sizeable in your hand earlier, but you aren’t an expert at estimating size from a through-the-pants handjob. You try to recreate your own grip around nothing to estimate the size. 
You giggle to yourself when you realize you're just a woman in her bed staring at her hand, jerking an invisible cock. The horny goblins aren’t amused, though. They’re sick of the daydreaming and distractions. They’re picking fights with the rest of your mind. Throwing rocks and sticks, shrieking and hissing. 
The part of your brain that was griping about how men used to write love letters and respect the art of romance is getting quieter and further from your faculty for caring. You can hear its muffled shouts, and you assure that voice that you won’t give it all up this easily. Then, you completely tune it out. 
The last brain cell with a complaint has you rolling your eyes. You have to be ovulating or something because it’s wholly debased the way this guy is doing it for you. 
He’s just shameless with it. 
You sent him tasteful underboob, and he gives you jumpscare dick-in-the-dark! How is this supposed to escalate? He gave it all up immediately! You send another picture, and he sends you his money shot? What’s he gonna do to give you more? Send you an asshole shot? That one makes you snort. You bet he would do it, too, if you asked. 
Oh, that gives you a better idea. He’s not getting another picture from you at all. You tap on his name and tap the call icon. Of course, this horny motherfucker answers immediately. You aren’t sure it even rang before you’re connected to his porny bedroom voice. 
“What are you wearing, dollface?” 
“I already showed you. Call me dollface again, and I’m hanging up.” 
You can hear his breathing like he’s got the mic on his phone in his mouth. That would typically drive you fucking nuts, but right now, you wanna hear his heavy breath against your ear and feel it hot against your skin.
“All right,” he speaks slowly, distracted. You know why. “You wanna be my slut, instead?” 
Fuck. That has you throbbing between your legs, but he doesn’t get to know that yet. 
“I already told you,” you keep your voice low and soft, “you don’t get to call me a slut for you, not with your behavior.” You strain, trying to hear any other noises, but his mic is probably clogged with dust from his shop or lint from the pocket of his sweats. You can just hear his fucking breathing. 
“What behavior, baby?” he rasps.
“You always jump straight to sending a picture of your cock?” 
You hear the soft snort through the phone. Followed by a deeper, throatier noise. A noise that makes you go cross-eyed and has you running a hand down to your naked lower half to tease yourself. 
“You always steal a man’s clothes after you come on his fingers?” 
You don’t really care what he asked. His voice makes your tongue go numb. Your mind goes blank. You start slowly, coating your own fingers in your slick arousal and drawing circles with a light touch. 
You hum a noncommittal response into the phone. 
“You look good in my shirt, baby, fuck,” he trails off breathlessly. The idea of you in his clothes gets him too close. 
You don’t answer, and he’s too far gone to wait and tease. 
He’s been wound up since you took off this afternoon, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that you sent him that pic when he had just gotten into bed.
It had taken ages to get his brother out of the shop this afternoon, and then Joel completely fucked up when he mentioned you and the lasagna. He had to begrudgingly host Tommy for dinner when he couldn’t come up with a better excuse than saying, “I’m gonna need you to fuck off so I can deal with the aching balls I’ve got from your surprise visit scaring away the woman I had my fingers knuckle deep inside.”
But when he was finally alone, it was like fate; your text came through right after he flopped onto his bed. His semi-stiff cock had sprung to full mast at the sight of you. The shirt he knew he didn’t fuckin’ lose, your soft curves, and the expression on your face. Like a vixen. Your PG-13 tease would do more for him than any X-rated video. 
Knowing you were thinking about him and that you wanted him to know? That had him throbbing. He already knew from the desire in your eyes earlier today that you wanted more.
He could swear his fingers still hold the lingering flavor of your wet cunt. The visceral memory of you has him on edge. When he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, he has to pause, holding firmly in place. His body screams and aches for release, but he’s determined to keep it in check. He doesn’t want to blow his load until he gets a response from you. 
He fights his urges, trying not to fuck his own fist in a frantic race to come. 
But, fuck, it’s difficult when he can imagine the sounds you’d make as you sank onto his cock for the first time. The face you’d make. Your tight, wet walls hugging him just right. Like, he’s where he’s meant to be. 
And the way you would look, bouncing on top of him. Your tits, your blissed-out face, the way your soft lips would part when you called out his name and cried for more. 
Those lips. 
The way he’d love to see them swollen and slobbering around the base of his cock. Fuck. His hips buck reflexively, and he hisses out a breath through his clenched teeth. When his phone lights up with your name, he answers before it can make a sound. You’re so bold. He likes that. It plasters a saucy grin on his face. 
And now, with your breathy voice crackling through his janky phone speaker, he’s not gonna last long. You've got him losing his composure for the second time in one day. His whole body is rigid. His toes flex and snap unconsciously, and his jaw tenses. He hears your soft moan, and his thoughts are overflowing. He has no filter left. 
“Yeah, baby? You moaning for me?” His hips punch up into his fist, and he gives in, allowing himself firm, severe strokes. “You’ve got me so hard. You moaning for my cock?” 
You are so not gonna answer that one. If the next words out his mouth are, “Yeah, you like that?” you’re gonna block him for that. But it is undeniably hot to hear him already so worked up. You just know he’s gonna be coming all over himself again for you, and that really does make you moan just for him.
Your noises earn you another growly groan from Joel that you’d kill to hear again. The more uninhibited his noises are, the louder you get in response.
“You using your fingers, or you have a toy?” his question is punctuated with a grunt. 
“Mm, just fingers,” you purr, finally granting him an actual response as you roll your hips. Having Joel on the line gives you a heady sense of satisfaction. Wondering what’s going to come out of his filthy mouth next gives you a shiver of anticipation. 
“I know that sweet pussy is just achin’ to be filled again.” Correct. 
“Yes.” 
“S’right, baby, I know.” 
Joel whimpering on the phone for you is absolutely going to get you off. Your hips chase your own fingers. You switch your phone audio to speakerphone and drop it on your pillow so you can use both hands. Pinching at your own nipples as if it were Joel’s big hand under your smuggled shirt. 
“Tell me,” he pants, “who do you need to fill it for you?” 
“You, Joel.” 
“Fuck,” he chokes out, “you wanna ride this cock, huh baby?” 
“Mhmm.” Bingo. Right again. You wish you could feel the pressure of him inside of you, massaging and soothing away the agony. The weight of his body atop of yours, so solid and secure. You can just about feel the pressure of his pelvis grinding into you. The friction from the coarse curls at the base of his cock getting you closer and closer. 
“Know you’d do so good,” he cuts himself off with a low noise, “so damn sexy.” 
“What else would you do with me?” You wanna hear it. For your own fantasy and to know what he’s into.  
“I’d have you taking me down your throat til you’re crying on it for me, fuck,” a primal noise erupts from him.
Face fucking. Of course. You can’t deny that when he says it, your body responds instantaneously. Your pussy floods eagerly at the idea, and your cheeks burn hot from the visual he gives you. You swallow down your moans, and you can imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the strain of trying to swallow around his cock. 
“You wanna come down my throat?” As if that isn’t a fucking siren song that would make him steer a fleet of ships into a cliff? Your salacious words are too much. 
“Shit. Yeah, baby, wanna watch you swallow for me.” You let all your moans and gasps flow freely for him to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ close,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out his mouth, “let me hear it, baby,” he can’t stop his pending bliss either. “Please, baby, I can’t, oh f-fuck,” he cuts himself off with another primitive grunt, and that’s precisely what your cavewoman cunt wanted to hear. 
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The horny goblins chant out loud this time. You can envision sweaty, pleading Joel lurching toward a reckless, full-body climax. 
You’re far from grace when the crude sounds he lets out turn you into an uncivilized beast. You hear him gasping, growling, and whining for you. It plunges you into a staggering orgasm. Rolling waves of ecstasy leave you panting and sweating.  
You lie in bed, chest rising and falling beneath the Creed logo. You’re left stunned at the intensity. A dreamy smile spreads across your face, and warm contentment, like honey, pours slowly over your muscles. Relaxing you as your tension softens and you turn to pick your phone back up.
Why was it so wholly consuming just to listen to him? Imagining the mess he made again,
because of you. 
Maybe you’re just made for each other. 
You and Joel. 
Oh, god. You should start listening to Alanis Morissette and Evanescence and trade your car for a 1990s-era Toyota 4runner and a pack of Marlboro Smooths. Really lean into matching his freak and the divorced alt-rock vibes.
You laugh softly into your phone before a deep sigh possesses you, and you nearly fall asleep. You stretch and smile, letting your heavy eyelids rest. 
He’s muttering something at you, catching his breath from the stress of being that fucking horned up for you all evening. And the overexertion of lasting long enough to hear your sweet cries of release. 
“You’re unreal,” his smoky voice rings with awe. “Got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager.”
You snort at the juxtaposition of his tender voice and crude comment before ending the call with a whispered, “Goodnight.” 
It shouldn’t make you smile. 
But he’s somehow such an enticing disaster. A cliche lonely bachelor, a cocksure idiot who knows he’s got a big dick and a generous guy who was willing to fix a stranger's car. 
You shouldn’t be trying to justify it, but you know he had you figured out earlier. 
You may be sated tonight, but you won’t be able to rest.
Not until you get your hands on that DILF – or rather, your pussy on that dick. 
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the-tarot-witch22 ¡ 5 months ago
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Profession of your future spouse - Pick a pile
Pile 1/ Pile 2
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Pile 3/ Pile 4
Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!
Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!
How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!
Note : This reading is based on my intuition and channeled messages from tarot cards.
I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!
Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!
Pile 1
The cards I got for you - ace of wands, 3 of cups, 3 of pentacles, the chariot
1. Creative jobs (Graphic Design, 3D, interior, photography, anything to do with creativity they might be into art too.) In which they have to use their hands, they can be good with their hands as well.
2. Event planner, wedding planner, some sort of celebrative type of occupation like a DJ, or they might own a bar.
3. They can be a teacher/leader/boss/ higher or upper position than you, project manager, they are very well respected in their work.
4. Leader, medics, a politician? something to do with ethical hacking or computer.
Pile 2
(The cards I got for you - 6 of cups, 3 of swords, 4 of swords, the star, or hierophant)
1. I feel daycare teacher, or babysitter in their free time, taking care of children's and animals, they might teach younger childrens.
2. Sports or athletic
3.Nurse, surgeon, therapist.
4. Teacher again or own an institute or teach somewhere online (they might know two languages)
5. Manager
Pile 3
(Queen of wands, The magician, two of pentacles, knight of swords)
They find hard to balance between work and personal life but they do it, flawlessly.
1. Model, (something to do with their looks) , confident job, like they need to be confident in their own body, even can be famous or a bit known in crowd.
2. They are very skilled they might have juggled many jobs and they are good in all type of things
3. Sales executive, Carpenter
4. Call center, the kind of work they need to give order to someone
5. Their work might require travelling.
6. A navy officer, cop
7. Advocate, CEO, business person
8. med field (ayurvedic type or medicine pharmacist)
Pile 4:
The cards I got for you - Ace of pentacles, 4 of wands, 8 of swords, king of cups and wheel of fortune)
The work they do might have them be overwhelmed orburdened, like stressful but they love their work.
1. Bank worker or finance like finance analayst, tech, data scientist, data analyst.
2. Wedding planner, or they work something in event planner.
3. counsellor in schools, or judge.
4. They might deal with criminals too in a way, or might involve to travel, military.
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Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3
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minminbunny ¡ 4 months ago
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ABO AU - Alpha! Hwang Hyunjin/Omega! Gender Neutral Reader
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💕Drabble Masterlist
❤️Ultimate Masterlist
"I'm going to be late," you whined, grabbing your art supplies as you sprinted to the studio. Hyunjin hummed, setting up the object models while he waited. You barged into the studio, "Sorry!" you exclaimed, catching your breath. Hyunjin chuckled, handing you a towel, "Relax. We have all day, pup," he said, ruffling your hair. You exhaled deeply, wiping the sweat off your skin. Hyunjin took your supplies and set them up, "There's water by the table, take a sip and we can start," he said, priming his canvas. You did as told and drank the water, "What's our model this time?" you asked, taking a seat next to him. Hyunjin hummed, "The Clematis flower, it's the symbol for beauty of the heart," he said, painting the background of his canvas. You nodded, "That's quite the meaning," you said, slowly feeling yourself get attached to the project. "Right? It would be interesting to see how we interpret it in our styles," he said, making gentles strokes with his brush. You did the same, letting the flow of the moment guide you when your neck get warm, "Shit," you murmured, trying to rub off your scent.
Hyunjin perked up, his nose flooded with the scent of thick jasmine and mint. You pulled up your hood, "Sorry, Hyun. I forgot my suppressor," you said, tightening the string into a bow. Hyunjin shook his head, "It's alright, pup. I can handle it," he said, crossing his legs to hide his obvious bulge. You beamed, "Thank you, Jinnie," you said, continuing your painting. Hyunjin gulped, his adam's apple bobbing hard against his throat, 'Think gross things, a stinky sock, Gymracha after a workout, fuck, fuck, I can't do this,' he thought, clenching his jaw. He gripped his paintbrush tight and gently placed it down so it doesn't spook you, "I think I need some fresh air, puppy," Hyunjin said, standing up. You nodded, "Oh, okay. I'll just be here," you said, cleaning your brush.
NSFW BELOW CUT
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Hyunjin fauxed a smile and waddled his way to the upstairs. He pushed the door open and slumped himself against the wall, "Holy shit, their scent is everywhere," he whined, tugging down his sweatpants. Hyunjin hissed, instantly wrapping his slender fingers around his lengthy cock. His cockhead leaked down his shaft, slicking up his palm with precum. "Hah, puppy. So sweet and warm," he gasped, stroking his cock in a relentless pace. His knot throbbed at the neglect, aching to fill up an Omega's tight ribbed hole but his fist would have to do. You raised an eyebrows, wondering what's taking Hyunjin so long, "Hyun?" you called out, making your way up the stairs but no reply. Hyunjin pumped his cock, his head tossed back against the wall without a care of being caught. You pushed out the door, shivers went down your spine at the strong scent of musk and skin slapping rang through your ears. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, puppy. Please suck my cock," he babbled to himself not realizing you were right there.
You gulped, kneeling between his legs, the tip of his cock begging to releasing. 'Should I do this?' You thought, hesitant of succumbing to the lust. Hyunjin groaned out your name, his eyes shut tight as his back arched. 'Fuck it,' you thought, wrapping your lips around his messy cockhead. "Hah, ah, ah?" he gasped, staring down at you with hooded eyes. You grabbed the base of his cock and bobbed your head up and down his shaft. Hyunjin gritted his teeth, "Fuck!" he cried out, wrapping his fingers through your hair as he began thrusting up your throat. You exhaled through your nose, taking as much as his cock down your throat. "Good puppy, so fucking tight," he growled, using your throat like a flesh light. You felt your head spin, your lips barely grazing the growing knot. "Deep breaths, love," he grit, pushing your head down his cock. Your whined around his shaft, your cheeks stretched to accommodate his pulsing knot. Hyunjin growled, his flared cockhead breaching your throat with a squelchy pop, "That's it, good puppy. So good," he whispered, stroking your hair when he came. You swallowed as much as you could, his knot had your jaw locked in position and it was slowly getting sore. Hyunjin hummed, stroking your jaw, "I know, little omega. I know. It'll swell down soon, Alpha promise," he reassured, pampering kisses all over your messy face.
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mynameismad ¡ 19 days ago
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What have I been up to?????
Hey all! I'm sure you're all cycling rapidly through the stages of grief like I am, but I thought I'd just check in and let everyone know what's going on with me and when they can expect more comics!
GOOD NEWS: I got a concept art job! I've been working freelance for a client for about two months now and things are going great! Honestly working on short assignments with weekly deadlines has been an amazing break from the slow, constant march of longform comics. I am surprising myself every day and haven't been this excited to learn and grow as an artist in a very long time. Moving forward, I would like to find a full time job in games and stay there, rather than continuing to hustle full-time in comics. I've paused my Patreon for the foreseeable future.
THAT BEING SAID: I will always be making comics!!!!!! I love them a lot, they've been good to me, and I have all these ideas in my head that NEED to be let out. I want to start making them in my own time, rather than as my main source of income. We'll see how long it takes to find true stability in concept (maybe never, lol) but in the meantime I will keep drawing my silly little guys and posting them online for everyone to see. I have to! I have to keep going and making the art I want to see in the world! We have to keep going!!!!
SAKANA: hoping to get back to the fish boys sooner rather than later. I've been stuck on whether to end the latest chapter right away or get a few more pages in there. We're moving into a HEAVY part of the plot, which will be trickier to write, so I've been procrastinating lol. Please don't take my extended absence as proof that I'm walking away from the story: I've just been busy with a new job and I don't know exactly how to get to the next chapter yet!! (also, jsyk, the Webtoon mirror is something I was doing for fun! not a priority!!)
RR: I actually have a few different projects started for RR! Chapter 2 is like 9 pages in, but then I paused and started work on a 20ish page minicomic, which is like 7 pages in. I'm going to finish the mini first and hopefully upload it to itch.io. For Chapter 2, I created this really elaborate environment in an effort to force myself to learn Blender, but then I got a job....so I have no time to learn Blender lol. Still trying to figure out whether to simplify or push forward.
OTHER: yeah...I am a comic artist at heart so obviously I have a million things I want to do. But SAKANA and RR are the highest priority right now!
UPCOMING: I am pursuing other freelance work for shorter, more manageable projects! If you need somebody to redline all your thumbnails, critique the first draft of your synopsis, or make a 20-40 page comic, please keep me in mind!
In closing: I'm locking my twitter accounts tonight and moving away from the platform for now. I'll be here, Instagram (@/mad_rupert), and BlueSky (@/madrupert). Thanks for sticking with me, let's hold onto and support each other in the coming weeks, months, and years! Let's keep going!!!!! I love you all so much!!!
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sweetbans29 ¡ 8 months ago
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Sweetbans Masterlist 💛
Hi lovelies! Here is a place where you can see all of my writings (Little Miss Queen of Imagine Domesticity). I hope you enjoy!
Requests are currently CLOSED! Read more about requests! Please make sure to read the link above before sending in requests. I am averaging about 2 requests per week and will do my best to complete any request coming in. On that note, thank you for trusting me with your ideas, I truly appreciate it 🥹
Caitlin Clark 🤍
Hey You - A history worth revisiting
Hey You (PART 2) - A future worth fighting for
Be Here - 3 times you pull Caitlin out of her head
Now's Not the Time - 4 times you rile her up
Mia Bella - You and Caitlin meet at the dog park
Not Now - 4 times Caitlin riles you up
Greece - You go on a holiday to Greece
Spoken For - Your marriage with Caitlin comes to light
Should Have Been Me - Things will never be the same
Power Couple - You and Caitlin are known as the power couple
Eyes on You - You catch Caitlin's eye during a game
Friendship Bracelet - Meeting Caitlin at a TSwift concert
Come On Now - Caitlin being super proud of you
Crush - Caitlin has a crush on you
Sleepy - 3 times Caitlin falls asleep
That’s Mine - You don’t like when people take what’s yours
Little Ones - When talk becomes reality (baby edition)
Challenge Me (Spoken For part 2) - Your teams meet as UConn takes on Iowa
Match Me - Caitlin and you are known for your game day fits
Protector - 3 times Caitlin is overprotective
It’s Not You, It’s Them - Where you hide your parents from Caitlin
Long Way Home - Miscommunication leads to unnecessary heartache
Power Couple Part 2 - You and Caitlin take the Olympics
Feud - You and Caitlin navigate a long standing media feud
Mic'd - You forget you are mic's during practice
Out - You and Caitlin compliment each other well
Mistakes - They were made
Catch Me If You Can - Caitlin cracks your code
Bowling - Date night
Jersey - Caitlin’s game jersey belongs to you
Thinking of You - It’s all about timing
Train with me - Meeting Caitlin at the gym
Exposed - 3 times your relationship was almost exposed
Frustrated - Caitlin is frustrated
Rules - You have one rule
Little Flirt - Flirting goes on for way too long
Milkshakes - Prequel to Should Have Been Me
Biggest Fan - You are the Fever’s best fan
Varsity Jacket - You forget your jacket
Support - You are an advocate for CC
Long Way Home Pt. 2 - The after
Playbook - AKA your dad is your wingman
Wait for Me - HC of CC during pregnancy
Overprotective - She’s overprotective
Photograph - She loves the way you photograph her
You’re Mine - Jealous Caitlin
Hesitation Series - Slow is okay when it’s more than just you
Tiny Dancer - You dedicate your senior project to her
Capture This - Caitlin sees you in her future
Marked - Caitlin loves to leave marks
Pups - You’re Caitlin’s neighbor
Unmarked - Marked Pt 2
Flight - You hate flying
Stress Ball - Taking care of a stressed CC
Meatball - Photography AU
Paige Bueckers 💙
Teach Me (COMPLETED) - You ask Paige to teach you all you need to know about being intimate
The Ask
The Art of Kissing
The Art of Teasing
The Art of Practice
The Art of Touching
The Tragedy of Conflict
The Art of Confessing
The Art of You
Injured - You get hurt and Paige is there for you
Private - You and Paige try to keep to yourselves
Child - Mom Paige
Kate Martin 💛
Mascot - Kate has it down bad for the school mascot
Down Low - Dating Kate
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thatlotuscookie ¡ 14 days ago
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ok ok, hear me out, hear me out I swear-
a Haikyuu character who's a teacher(you pick which one bc I am indecisive lol) who students don't like because they assign too much HW, x Art-Teacher y/n who's super eccentric and all the students have started calling "Auntie" bc they like her so much... and somehow the students realize they're dating
✧・゚: a/n: hiii thank you for the req anon! i choseTsukishima Kei x art teacher!fem reader cause why not :) sorry for the wait, it got a little busy. please enjoy and thank you for requestinng <3
✧ Title: ✧ Paintbrushes and Equations ✧ ✧ Characters: Math!TeacherTsukishima Kei x Art Teacher!Reader, Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life ✧ Rating: G ✧ Summary: Mr. Tsukishima Kei, the strict math teacher known for his tough assignments, and Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher adored by students, try to keep their budding relationship under wraps. But between secret coffee runs and after-school visits, it doesn’t take long for their students to catch on. ✧ Content/Tags: Secret Relationship, Soft Tsukishima, Teacher AU, Slow-burn Romance, Fluff and Humor ✧ WC: 1126 words // 6.8k chars
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Mr. Tsukishima Kei was known as the strict, no-nonsense math teacher, infamous for assigning challenging homework and expecting punctuality from his students. Across the hall, however, was Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher who taught in a classroom full of painted murals, plants, and knick-knacks. Her students affectionately called her “Auntie,” loving her warm personality and encouraging nature.
Despite their differences, the two had quietly been dating for some time now, keeping things subtle so as not to spark gossip in the school hallways. But as careful as they tried to be, some moments were just too sweet to hide from their observant students.
Every morning, Tsukishima would stop by Y/N’s room before classes started. Though their relationship was mostly kept under wraps, there was one routine they couldn’t help but share—he’d bring her coffee, just the way she liked it, and stay for a few moments before his first class.
One particular morning, a student passing by happened to catch sight of them. Y/N was sitting at her desk, fiddling with paintbrushes while Tsukishima leaned against the edge of her desk, coffee cup in hand. She looked up at him with a bright smile as he handed her the coffee.
“Thank you, Kei! You know, I think your coffee runs are the best part of my day.”
“Maybe if you went to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t need this much caffeine,” he replied, rolling his eyes, though there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Bedtime? Reasonable? You’re talking to an artist, Kei!” She chuckled, raising her coffee cup in mock cheers.
The student who’d witnessed it ran back to their friends, spilling the details in hushed, excited whispers. “Guys, Auntie totally has Mr. Tsukishima wrapped around her finger. He’s bringing her coffee like it’s a daily thing!”
During lunch breaks, Tsukishima would sometimes slip away from the teachers’ lounge and make his way to Y/N’s art room, which was usually open to students who wanted to work on projects or just hang out with their favorite teacher. Though he’d never admit it out loud, Tsukishima was growing fond of this habit too.
One afternoon, Y/N was holding a brush in each hand, struggling to finish a mural one of her classes had started. Tsukishima approached, watching her for a moment as she fumbled with paint colors.
“Need a hand?” he asked, taking one of the brushes out of her grasp without waiting for an answer. He began painting in neat, deliberate strokes, adding to the vibrant, playful mural.
“Mr. Tsukishima,” Y/N grinned, “are you sure you can handle all this color?”
He just shrugged, pretending to be annoyed, but there was a glint in his eye. “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at ladders.”
The students present watched with wide eyes as their usually stern math teacher helped their beloved art teacher, even taking her playful teasing without so much as a sigh. “Is he… actually smiling?” one student whispered, amazed. “And helping her paint? They’re definitely dating.”
On Fridays, Y/N would stay late to finish up art projects, often leaving well after most of the other teachers had already gone home. But one evening, as she was cleaning up her brushes, she was startled by a familiar voice at the door.
“Didn’t I tell you not to stay this late alone?” Tsukishima’s tone was gentle, though there was a hint of concern.
“Oh, but I had just one more layer of glaze to apply! I didn’t want to leave it unfinished,” she replied, smiling sheepishly.
Tsukishima sighed and moved to take some of the supplies from her hands, setting them aside. “That can wait. You shouldn’t be here by yourself. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
They left together, but not before another student, leaving basketball practice, caught sight of them walking side by side down the hallway, Tsukishima’s hand brushing hers in a quiet, comforting gesture.
“Did you see that?” the student whispered to a friend the next day. “Mr. Tsukishima totally waited for Auntie after school. He’s such a softie for her.”
When Field Day rolled around, Y/N was the designated supervisor for the art activities station. Her students flocked to her booth, excited to paint, tie-dye, and get a break from competitive games. Tsukishima, though not usually one for field activities, had somehow found himself “volunteered” to help out at her station by none other than Y/N herself.
At first, he’d tried to stay in the background, sorting supplies and ensuring everything was organized. But as more students lined up, Y/N pulled him over to assist with face painting. “Come on, Kei, it’s fun! Don’t be so serious,” she teased, handing him a paintbrush.
He gave her a long-suffering look but, after a few convincing nudges, gave in. Soon, students were giggling at the sight of Mr. Tsukishima painting bright flowers and animals on their cheeks.
“Mr. Tsukishima, can you paint a dragon?” one student asked, grinning. And to everyone’s surprise, Tsukishima nodded, actually putting in the effort to paint a rather impressive dragon.
Meanwhile, Y/N leaned in close, watching him with a proud smile. “See? I knew you had a colorful side.”
The students at the booth exchanged knowing looks, watching the way Tsukishima’s gaze softened every time he looked at Y/N. One bold student whispered, “They’re definitely together. I think Auntie’s the only person who could get him to paint a dragon.”
The biggest reveal came on Y/N’s birthday. Her classroom was decorated with student-made banners, handmade cards, and small, thoughtful gifts from her students. But the real surprise came when Tsukishima walked in with a bouquet of wildflowers, which he set on her desk, much to the shock of her students.
“Kei…” Y/N murmured, her eyes shining with surprise. “You didn’t have to—”
“Happy Birthday, Auntie,” he said simply, giving her a small, genuine smile before glancing pointedly at the students, who were watching, open-mouthed. He gave them his usual glare but, seeing the excitement in their eyes, eventually gave up on hiding it.
And with that, the students finally had their confirmation. They all whispered to each other excitedly, some even daring to give Tsukishima approving thumbs-up. From that day on, Tsukishima’s “monster math teacher” title softened in their eyes. He was still strict and demanding, but he was also the teacher who went out of his way to make their “Auntie” happy.
As the weeks went by, more little moments started to unfold between them—moments the students watched eagerly, as if they were witnessing a real-life romance. And while Tsukishima might not have been the most affectionate in public, he showed his care in small, steady ways, making sure Y/N was looked after and supported in the little things.
185 notes ¡ View notes
byler-week ¡ 5 months ago
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BYLER WEEK MASTER LIST - DAYS INFO, ETC.
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DAYS : july 8th to july 14th, 2024.
RUN BY : Andy4Yippee and AidyAiden on MAIN
INFO : youre given a noun, verb, and adjective. These are for fanworks. You may use them all and post separately, combine them, or just use one, or two, whatever you please. Youre also given colors, these are for fanart, or moodboards. Theyre not needed, simply encouraged. There is also a AO3 collection.
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SMALL FAQ SECTION
how do i do this?
Make any fanwork, post it, using the tag #bylerweek2024, and tag me, @byler-week so i can see and reblog your fanwork!
whats aloud?
Fanfictions, art, graphics, gifs moodboards, playlists, videos, edits, whatever kind of fanwork you want to make! As long as its fanwork:)
Whats this for, generally?
Its to share fanart and our love for a sub-plot/ship in a show! A lot of people really, really love byler, its important to them— and i appreciate sharing fanwork amongst ourselves! Can i do NSFW?
preferably, no. if you do, please age them to the age of consent. do whatever you'd like in the privacy of your own phone, but here, you must age them up.
Can i do HEAVY Angst?
yes! Its welcomed. Just put CWs!
If you have any other questions, please, message or comment! Thank you,
- Xander
IMPORTANT. IMPORTANT ADD ON!
-> Byler week is taking place on SHARK WEEK. You can draw them as SHARKS ANY DAY OF THE WEEK. This is totally acceptable now that we know the information.
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bunniesanddeer ¡ 9 months ago
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Hi! I hope you’re having a wonderful day or night.
I saw your asks are open and I had an idea. What if it’s a protective Alastor x Reader who is the daughter of a protective Lucifer? Maybe she kept in contact with her dad so they are closer and she is older than Charlie. When Lucifer comes to visit the hotel him and Alastor cause some drama
Thanks!
W.P💚
I hope this is what you were looking for? I am very new to doing things like this!
Daddy's Girl
Pairing: Alastor X Lucifer's Daughter! Reader
Tags: Sisterly love, some sexual connotations, spoilers, some angst maybe? idk, swearing, Mimzy.
SPOILERS FOR "DAD BEAT DAD"
Word Count: 1,775
The hotel was eerily quiet when you awoke, so you made your way downstairs to see if anyone was awake. All you could hear as you made your way down the stairs was your quiet footfalls and weird murmuring. As you turned towards the sitting area, you realized the muttering was coming from your younger sister, Charlie.
Charlie was pacing back and forth in front of a pin board covered in colorful papers, and strings. She tugged at her hair, her muttering growing more frantic. As you took in the scene, you realized there were a few people standing and watching her. Niffty was bouncing on the couch, her face full of a strange glee. Husk and Sir Pentious were watching with mixes of bafflement and curiosity.
“Hey, Char Char? Are you ok?” You asked, walking around the couch to get a better view. You saw Angel and Vaggie approach from your peripherals as Charlie whipped around frantically.
“Nope! No. Not really! Haha. Hah…” Her false smile falls as she rips a page off the board. “I have been up all night trying to figure out why the hotel isn’t working! We’ve done every single trust exercise and arts and crafts project I could find! We’ve talked about our feelings and… nothing is working!”
You frown. You knew that things taking so long would eventually get to her, but it was sad to see just how severely. She needed more help. 
You walk up to your sister, and set your hands on her shoulders. “I think…”
Her expression collapses. “Please don’t say it.”
“We should call dad. And ask for his help.”
She winces. She clearly doesn’t want your dad’s help. You can’t exactly blame her, either. The two of you were raised a little separate, and it had affected her relationship with Lucifer pretty badly. Although, you were older, and it had afforded you time with Lucifer before Lilith had started to separate herself from him. Charlie had only had a handful of years before their relationship went south. It showed in her anxiety with him, and Lucifer’s inability to talk to Charlie openly. It made you sad, but you weren’t sure how to fix that rift.
“He’s the reason the extermination happens to begin with! He just let it happen! He doesn’t even like sinners! Why would he help me?” Charlie hugs herself, looking off to the side. “He’s always preferred you anyway.”
You hear some audible winces from the audience by the couch, but you ignore them. You pull her into a tight hug, her taller frame putting you at her collarbones. “You know I would change that if I could, honey.” You squeeze her tightly and say, “We can at least see if he can get you a meeting. Anything to give you the advantage, Char Char.”
She sighs, and hugs you back. “Yeah. I guess we can at least try.”
You pull back. “I think you should call him. I bet he’s dying to hear from you, even though he sucks at showing it.”
Charlie rubs her arm and nods. “Alright. I’ll do it!”
As she struggles to start the phone call, Husk makes comments about her having ‘Daddy Issues’, and you blanch. How rude! (Even if it was true). The others make comments about meeting Lucifer, but you and Vaggie just keep your eyes on Charlie. She seems so nervous, and it makes your stomach twist in knots. 
She finally calls. It rings three times before a faint, “Heyyyy bitch!” rings out on the other end of the line. You facepalm. Good going Dad.
When all is said and done, Lucifer announces he is visiting within the hour, after much cajoling and guilt-tripping on Charlie’s part. Although, from what you could hear, he seemed excited.
Charlie is excited, and so is everyone else in the hotel. You cheer for her, and then the realization hits you. 
Alastor. Fuck.
As the final touches are finished, you sidle up to Alastor with a small grin.
“Please, please don’t start shit. Charlie needs this to work. And I need this to work for Charlie,” you murmur to him. 
He barely glances at you. “Worry not, sweetheart! You know I would never do anything to risk the reputation of the hotel! Charlie will get the help she needs!” His arm wraps around your shoulders, and he squeezes you into his side. For just a moment, his head ducks down, and he whispers into your ear. “Just need to make it clear whose little girl you are now.” Then he perks right back up like nothing happened.
Your face burns hot. How dare he! But you don’t get to do anything in retaliation, because Charlie is opening the door.
“Chaaaaarlie!” Lucifer exclaims, immediately pulling her into a tight embrace. Your sister’s face is full of shock, and you just want to laugh. Ha! You were right! He continues talking to her in the slightest baby voice, and you can’t help but let some giggles escape you. Your dad could be just so silly! “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”
He lets go of Charlie as she welcomes him to the hotel. He spots Keekee first, and pets her. Then greets Razzle and Dazzle. You watch from the sidelines with a small smile. It was nice seeing your dad outside the home. He had been holing himself up for so long… You look up at Alastor, who hasn’t moved an inch since your dad came in.
You elbow him gently. “You okay?”
Alasotr’s expression is tight. His eyes flicker to you for a moment, before landing back on your father. He merely hums in response, making you frown. How odd… You knew the two wouldn’t get along, but for Alastor to dislike him already?
 Then your dad spots the bar. “Oh! What in the unholy Hell is that?” 
Alastor immediately shadow-walks to the other side of the room, and you know it’s time to intervene.
“Oh! Just some of the renovations we’ve made.” Alastor gestures with his mic, before continuing. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?” 
You wince, and make your way to Alastor’s side. 
“Hey, Dad,” you say, trying to prevent your dad making any further comments on the decor. That's a good way to piss off Alastor.
“Sweetheart!” Your dad runs up to you, and tries picking you up. You laugh at the tights squeeze. “How’s my girl?” His hands squish your cheeks, making it hard to respond.
You giggle through the ministrations, and finally push his hands back so you can respond. “I’m doing great, Dad. Figured I should introduce you to Alastor here.” You gesture to Alastor, who looks the closest to not smiling that you have ever seen. It makes your stomach feel like lead, as you keep talking. “He’s our facilities' manager, and my…”
Your voice trails off, and you look at Alastor, as if hoping he has the word you are looking for.
“I’m her lover!” Alastor exclaims, quite loudly. His static drops for a moment and then bursts back up in volume, making you wince. Great. He just announced that to everyone in the room. The ‘everyone’ being everyone who didn’t know. You can hear Charlie ‘whoop!’ in the background, and several variations of ‘what the fuck’. “She’s quite the darling. I just couldn’t resist this sweet face!” Alastor grabs at your cheeks, similar to how your dad did, and squishes them. “See?”
You risk a glance at your dad. He looks ready to kill. Fuck. This is absolutely not how you wanted to tell your dad. He nearly killed the last partner you had for ghosting you. You can see your dad’s horns growing, and you push Alastor back.
“Haha! Yeah. Uh. Sorry. I would have told you before now, but we’re kind of new! We were trying to keep it on the down-low for now but…” You glare at Alastor, but he just has this shit-eating grin on his face, and you know he doesn’t care. 
“Right.” Your dad continues glaring at Alastor. You wince, and decide to go over by the snack table. Angel is just giving you this look, and you know he will be asking about Alastor’s dick, which you have not seen, later. Husk seems disappointed in you, and you absolutely know why. You just give him an apologetic shrug, and watch as Alastor and your dad seem to start a pissing match. 
It ends with Alastor in his face saying, “Fuck you,” and your knees nearly give out. Holy shit. 
Charlie finally intervenes, and Lucifer, after some more glaring at Alastor, get her to introduce him to the rest of the residents.
Alastor lays a hand on your shoulder as your dad greets both the guests and the staff. You can feel his thumb rubbing back and forth, and it sends shivers down your spine. You look up at Alastor, but his gaze is still locked on your dad. Annoyed, you roll your eyes with a huff, and look back to the meet-and-greet. Your dad is looking back at you, his frown deep, and a barely audible growl making its way to your ears. Your dad is fucking growling at Alastor. What the Hell?
A rumble builds up in Alastor’s chest, and you can feel it against your back. This one sets heat back up to your face. Gosh, this man needed to get his shit together. No need to start stuff with your dad! Alastor’s hand tightens on your shoulder, before he lets go and stalks back towards Charlie, who is trying to convince your dad to help her. 
And then they’re singing. Because of course. Alastor joins in, saying some things that seem to really piss off your dad, but you can't hear much over the blood rushing in your ears. Sometimes these two could be so embarrassing. When your dad pulls out the golden fiddle, you nearly die laughing. (He still wasn’t over losing that one time!) Everything comes to a head, with the two men yelling insults in each other's faces, when suddenly-
“It’s ME!” A woman barges in through the lobby doors, yelling and calling herself Mimzy. She’s blonde, and dressed like a flapper. Alastor seems to recognize her, so you don’t worry. 
Later that night, when your dad has finally agreed to help your sister get that meeting, you all settle onto the couches, making a game plan. Alastor sits beside you, one foot resting on the other knee. You lean over and ask softly, “What did you say during that song, anyway?”
Alastor’s grin sharpens, and he presses his lips near your ear, again. “Charlie calls me dad, and your eldest calls me Daddy.”
If you nearly choke on your own spit, you refuse to admit it. 
655 notes ¡ View notes
syoddeye ¡ 3 months ago
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consequence / hyacinth
price x f!reader | 1.9k words series directory tags: exes, angst, references to depression. a/n: an ex boyfriend. a story. a kiss. ☕
a surprise trap door. an errant self-driving car. a jet engine falling from the sky. anything to get you out of this.
hyperbolic? maybe. necessary? absolutely. forty-five minutes, and you haven’t gotten a word in edgewise. ben drones on about his studio and his upcoming exhibition. you brought this on yourself by doing the polite thing and asking him how are you?—lesson learned. 
it hurts. it blisters to hear how happy and successful he is and how he’s moved on from the breakup. as if he didn’t leave you hanging with a dinner you couldn’t afford after admitting that he cheated. he hasn’t asked about your wrist, your old flat, or your art career.
eventually, he stands. sets you free.
“i should go, long trip home,” he says, eyes glued to an incoming text. “it was lovely to catch up. thanks for holding onto this junk for me.” he hoists the box off the seat beside him and tucks it under an arm.
you let him kiss your cheek. “yeah. of course.”
he doesn’t look back. you wish you could do the same. 
you order another cider and resolve to not remain looking like the miserable slump you are.
~~~~
>> are you in town?
>> if you are, i could use a drinking buddy
john’s hair is still damp when he spots her at a two-top in the garden, nursing a cider. he waves, then ducks inside for his own drink. his head buzzes with whatever this invite means.
he checked with the florist twice to ensure the flowers arrived intact at her place. made the woman on the phone read back his apologetic note and bit his tongue when she reminded him it wasn’t her ‘place to say whether it sounded good enough or not’. he never heard if she liked them.
there’s a stiffness to her smile but relief in her voice. “you came.”
“‘course.”
“how’re you?”
in six words or less, he knows something’s off. he eases onto the seat, trying to exude a sense of humor and not telegraph his one hundred questions. “undercaffeinated, but i’m more interested in how you’re doing.”
“i noticed you hadn’t stopped in.”
“didn’t think you wanted me to.”
“about that. it was rude of me to kick you out without warning.”
guilt isn’t what he wants. he adjusts course to shoulder the blame. “i crossed a line.”
she isn’t having it. “please, it was rude. i know you weren’t trying to…”
“cross a line? overstep?”
her mouth wavers undecided between a frown and a smile. “you didn’t know. i could’ve explained. spare you £45.”
you. little.
“so you did get them. the note, too?” she nods. “then why the radio silence? hyacinths a bad choice?”
“no, they’re perfect. i just. i sort of froze. i had a rough couple of days.”
the hangdog expression she hides with the glass makes his chest hurt. “i’ve been told i’m a decent listener.”
“it’s a long story.”
“i got time.” he offers quietly. “just got back. caught me in the shower, actually.”
her eyes narrow, curious. “did you dress and come straight here?”
“well, it’s generally frowned upon to walk around naked.”
he beams at her laugh, her shaking shoulders. for a moment, her whole face lights up. it relaxes her posture as it peters off, leaving her looking less like a cornered mouse than when he initially sat down. 
“so.” john pushes carefully. “the paintings.”
her smile lapses into something unreadable, a pause to find the right place to begin. her fingers trace the table’s grate.
when she finally speaks, she refocuses. meets his eye. good. he doesn’t want to twist her arm to get the story. the tale starts innocently enough.
the woman is hannah, her best friend and a ceramicist. they met on the first day of her mfa and were paired for the terms project shortly thereafter. they quickly became inseparable, until his girl met ben.
~~
“i can’t talk about hannah without talking about ben. to talk about ben, you need context.”
john leans in. his thick eyebrows lift in a silent go on. 
“they say it happens when you’re not looking, right?” you nervously laugh, smiling at the table sheepishly, unable to meet his eye. “well, i met ben at a networking event. last place i thought i’d find a date, rubbing elbows with alumni. but he introduced himself, said he liked my portfolio book. told me about his work and all these shows he’d done. he took me to lunch the next day.” 
you wince at the memory, crystal clear and acutely embarrassing. how starry-eyed you’d been. your throat dries, sandpaper scraping down your esophagus at the thought of ben scribbling his number on your wrist. you clear your throat.
“then he asked me to dinner. during lunch.”
if john’s disgusted or disappointed, he doesn’t show it. his self-control is infuriating yet reliable. steady where you’re shaky.
why can’t i be like that?
you push on.
“without diving into minutiae, i eventually had to introduce hannah and ben. they hounded me, because if i wasn’t with one, i was with the other.” 
“jealous of each other.”
“i think so. i agonized. they’re big personalities, i thought they’d clash.” you replay their first meeting in your head. you have a thousand times. “and they did.”
~~
‘differing artistic opinions’ and ‘absurd expectations’ are the root causes of the squabbling she describes. her words, not his.
(he thinks of less charitable ways to characterize interpersonal conflict.)
barrages of text messages competing for her attention. underhanded attempts to get her to cancel plans with the other. emergencies that turned out to be trivial. guilt trips. one particularly ugly screaming match at a mutual friend’s birthday.
(if it were him, he thinks, they’d’ve lost privileges long ago.)
“it took weeks for them to come around to the idea of each other.”
“what was the catalyst?
“me again.”
john hums. he watches her rest against the back of her seat, her arms crossing and tightening over her chest. compressing herself as much as she can. embarrassment rolls off her in waves. he doesn’t say a word, afraid he’ll cut what courage she’s mustered off at the knees.
she has her own idea.
“can we—are you finished?” 
his glass is two-thirds empty, and he polishes off the rest. a fist squeezes his heart when her lip twitches at his abruptness. she makes it difficult to be collected with his interest.
“where to?”
“where else.”
it’s a challenge, defending oneself from an insistent, bullying cat. cece shows no mercy.
“she likes beards.”
“does she see many beards?”
“just a theory.” she leans against the cushions, watching him and the cat, a glass of water held in both hands. “yours is the only one she’s tried.”
in the end, after negotiations, cece loafs between them. her purr a white noise.
“where were we?” her tone suggests she knows precisely where.
“the truce and you.”
her eyes find a spot past his head to rest. he’s tempted to tilt his head into her line of sight, assuming that nudging her on home turf’s a safer bet than in public. but the hesitant, almost imperceptible exhale that leaves her keeps him still.
“alright. so. me.” her chest expands with another sigh. “i was already struggling two terms into school. really struggling. when i applied, i had this clear vision, but then classes started, i met my peers, and suddenly it felt like everything i thought i knew just disappeared. nothing looked right, nothing felt right. i pulled constant all-nighters. sat through brutal critiques. i’m lucky i had thick skin from my job, otherwise, i might have dropped out to join a convent or the circus.”
immediately, his mind conjures the image of a tattooed nun, swiftly followed by a tattooed strongwoman. his lip quirks. he hastily buries what those do for him. later. 
their gazes meet briefly to share a smile.
she licks her lips after a drink and sets the glass aside.
“they realized their bickering wasn’t helping, so they put their heads together. kind of forced us to become the three musketeers. they helped me where they could, and things smoothed out between them in the process. he found her ceramics shows to exhibit. let her move her wheel into our joint space. we were in close quarters, and i needed it. i needed them.”
a couch width is suddenly too far a distance with how she crumples. something difficult passes over her face, and she excuses it with a shrug.
“despite their joint efforts, i barely scraped by that first year. i was burnt out, miserable, and i spent two weeks holed up alone, trying to not go off the rails.”
oh, sweetheart.
“where were they?”
“hannah was visiting family stateside, and ben was traveling for work.”
not that his schedule allows flexibility, not that he’s behaved the perfect partner in the past—but john knows instantly that he would not have left her. he’d’ve been there. the more he hears about ben, the more he wants to meet him. come to a violent understanding. impart a lesson or two on loyalty.
“when ben returned, he told me he decided to move here to ‘reconnect with the country’. something about ‘capturing and celebrating the bucolic’. he wanted long-distance, but i, uh, i said i’d rather quit and move with him. we fought and he called in reinforcements. at hannah and ben’s…encouragement, i finished out the term. and it nearly killed me. as you know, i withdrew.”
john often reads between the lines. a vital skill, interpreting indirect and unintended communication. what’s unsaid. shame pulls her inward again, a moment where she seems smaller. swallowed by the enormity of whatever she doesn’t say. can’t say.
“i know they were disappointed. they didn’t need to say anything. hannah felt abandoned, and ben burdened by my tagging along. i got this awful feeling the morning we left and i ignored it. i was convinced leaving school behind and taking a break from art would fix me.” 
cece stretches, stands, and allows herself to be scooped up. 
she holds the cat under its front legs, bringing their faces closer together. “but it’s like that saying or whatever. ‘wherever you go, there you are’. i got here. settled in. and i was still a loser.”
it’s instinct.
“you’re not–”
she bulldozes.
“i started working at the café. ben booked murals. he painted the big one a few streets over.”
he’s familiar. “the one with–?”
“yep.” she releases cece. “he tried to get me to paint. he begged me. but i couldn’t do it. things took a turn last summer when ben won a huge job in the city, which snowballed into an invitation to exhibit. hannah got busy with the final stretch of the program, and couldn’t visit much.”
“so you were alone again.”
“yeah.” her voice thins, then breaks. “alone again.” she digs the heels of her palms into her eyes before a single tear drops off her lashes. 
john’s beside her before doubt seeds itself in his mind. one arm gathers her to his side, his chin lifting then settling atop her head when she tucks closer. his other arm winds around her, and the slight tremors of her distress ripple through him. she’s quiet, not quite sobbing, but sucking in deep breaths. he rubs her back in a slow circle, murmuring nothings.
“what do you need?” he asks as she gradually stills.
she sniffs. 
“sleep.”
without thinking, he kisses the crown of her head. “okay.”
john only catches a glimpse as she hands him a quilt. but he sees them. blue hyacinths, pinned and drying above her bed.
“sorry. this is all i got. you set?”
he smiles at her sweet, tear swollen eyes. 
“yeah. i’ve got all i need.”
213 notes ¡ View notes
olomaya ¡ 1 year ago
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More Activities Activity Table
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Eat, Play, Learn! Family Fun for Everyone!
2-Sep Update: Thank you @jeebeehey for the French translation. Please redownload if you'd like them.
Updated for redownload (27 July):
Fixed an issue where the interaction cancels out if a toddler doesn't like the food. Thanks to @zemyna for catching!
Added the non-English stbls. Sorry, I swear I'm not one of those Anglophones that thinks English is the only language (I actually speak 3!), it's just a small step in the upload process that's easy to forget.
This is the final part of my little Kids and Toddlers mod series. It's meant to complement the Coloring Book and the Toddler foods mods so you will need those for this.
When I started this, I didn't think through how many new animations or custom details it would entail and I as continued, I kept having to add more and more. There are like 60 animations and 40 image assets 😭 hence why the two main files are so large for a mod.
What I've done is added more activities to the Activity Table after years of being annoyed that the Activity Table we have in TS3, despite being the EXACT SAME table from TS2, does not in fact allow your Sims to draw on it. EA, so lazy!
Anyway, what this does is add 4 new interactions to the Activity Table: Coloring, Arts & Crafts, Puzzles and the ability to serve toddlers food so they can eat there.
The activities are for toddlers and kids only but Teens+ can join in the puzzles if it's already been started by a toddler or child.
Note this will work with any of the Activity Tables in the game or Store but the puzzle will look weird as it's placed in the same spot as where the blocks are. You can use it with custom/cc activity tables provided only the mesh has been edited (for example, if slots are changed or removed, it may not work).
Credits/Thanks: The glue bottle, crayon, CAS paint items and one of the arts and crafts image assets are from @aroundthesims. Thanks as always to Sandy for her generosity and creativity in making Sims content! I originally only wanted to add the option to color/draw but this set of hers inspired me to add in more features. (hmm, maybe I shouldn't be thanking you then considering what a pain that was 🤔😅) All other objects and images are from TS4. Custom animations are by me using TS4 and TS3 as bases.
All buyable objects (table, crayons, puzzles) can be found in Kids Room/Toys.
Check out my other mods in the Kids and Toddlers series: Coloring Book for Kids, Toddler Bed, Toddler Foods and Snacks.
If you run into any issues (and YOU'VE READ THROUGH THE INSTRUCTIONS) please let me know!
Please read below the cut for all the details on features and how to play.
Download here | Alternate Link: SFS
Coloring: Toddlers and Kids can color if there is a crayon box on the lot. Just like using a coloring book, coloring a picture will take up one crayon. Coloring increases painting skill for both. When completed, the final project will be in their inventory.
Arts & Crafts: Toddlers and Kids can do an arts and craft project. Not additional object is needed. They go pretty crazy with the glitter and glue so it can be dirty stuff if they don't have the neat trait. This activity decreases their hygiene and they will get covered in glitter paint when done. Similar to coloring, when completed, the final project will go in their inventory and they get painting skill while playing.
Puzzles: You need to buy a puzzle box and have it on your lot to do puzzles. There are two puzzle boxes but they do the same thing. And they stack! (I love stackable things) There are 3 puzzle types: Easy, medium and Hard. Toddlers can only do Easy puzzles. Children can do either easy, medium or Hard puzzles depending on their Logic skill (for Hard, logic needs to be 3 or higher). The puzzle difficulty will also determine how long it takes to complete the puzzle. Teens+ can help with puzzles but they can't start a puzzle on their own. Toddlers can kids can start a puzzle on their own or help another Sim with a puzzle. Puzzles increase Logic skill for all those playing it but will increase faster for whoever starts the puzzle. If a puzzle is completed, everyone who helped put it together will get bonus skill points. If there is already a puzzle on the table, there is no option to start another, you can only help with the current puzzle. There are different puzzle images (15 in total) but there's no difference between them. The only thing that matters is puzzle difficulty. If the Sim who started the puzzle stops for whatever reason (you or the game cancels the interaction), everyone else helping will stop as well.
Eating: Children+ can serve toddlers meals or snacks. It works the same as my Toddler Foods and Snacks mod. They will place the tray/bowl on the activity table and then call the toddler to eat. If the toddler is hungry, they will go over and start eating. Otherwise, they can always eat it later.
Known Issues:
Animations aren't perfect (but what in life is?) so there's some clipping, especially on the toddlers when they kneel.
The comically large puzzle piece accessory jumps around a little and sits kind of weird in the toddler's hand. I suspect this is because the game is using the adult version of the object animation. I've noted it for fixing whenever I do a second pass on the mod.
The food tray is upside down. Setting object rotation in-game messes up the routing for the table so I'm leaving it as is as it doesn't really bother me.
If there is a food tray or bowl on the table, you shouldn't be able to do anything else there because that slot/part is being used but I had this happen once where my tester child started coloring there. It didn't happen again but if it does happen in your game, simply cancel out the interaction and route them to another part of the table.
The puzzle leaves a shadow even when it's pile form because the shadow mesh is there but you only see it until the geostate changes.
This is not an issue but the alternate material states for objects are only available in high so if you play with graphic settings for objects on medium or low, you're going to see the default image for the puzzles or pictures.
Tagging for reblogs: @kpccfinds @katsujiiccfinds @pis3update
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mixtapedoh ¡ 5 months ago
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and it was all yellow | y.j.
welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.
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pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !
word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)
☄. *. ⋆
olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.
☄. *. ⋆
now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟
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AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆
— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.
now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.
not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.
especially those things that could be used to his advantage.
— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).
— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."
to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.
(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)
to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.
— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.
ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.
— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”
“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”
and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”
and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”
"[REDACTED]."
"...shit."
— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.
— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.
and goddamn, if things didn't follow.
— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.
another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.
— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).
— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.
— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.
— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.
— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.
the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.
you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.
— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.
but then it didn't.
at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).
at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.
and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.
— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.
— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?
and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).
— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.
after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.
and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.
(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)
— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.
— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.
"what?"
and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.
jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"
it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"
you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.
"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.
"you think your ex would have bought that?"
of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."
"and that jacket is more my style than his."
"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."
"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."
and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?
"race you to the elevator."
— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.
— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).
"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."
"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."
and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).
— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.
— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.
the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.
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AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆
— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.
— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of coton de tulear puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.
he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead
"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."
(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)
— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.
if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.
and he never did...
until you started to wear the things he left, of course.
'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)
'sure, but why 2?'
'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'
'???!?'
'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'
'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'
'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'
'😑'
'so what's your ring size?'
'stfu'
— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.
and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...
— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.
and besides. it looked good on you.
— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.
— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.
being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.
— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.
— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.
the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.
though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"
randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.
— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.
— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.
either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.
"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"
"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."
and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.
"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."
"but! it's all been submitted now."
"then i'll meet you."
— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'
you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.
— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.
despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.
if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.
— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,
it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.
— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.
it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.
— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.
— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.
you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.
he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.
— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.
not that it bothered you, of course.
it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.
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AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆
— so.
if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.
deceit? of course.
scheming? obviously.
lying? naturally.
blackmailing? most assuredly.
gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.
changing criteria? yes.
moving goalposts? clearly.
hiding the apparent? well...
— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.
and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?
— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.
— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.
and it was only getting worse.
— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).
— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.
please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.
after all, what else are older brothers for?
— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.
— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.
it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.
"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"
cue jun choking once more.
"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."
"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.
"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."
"but then y/n could get his blessing!"
— at some point, jun was at his wits end.
in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.
if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.
one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.
— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.
one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.
— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.
jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”
“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”
you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"
— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 
— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.
— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN
“angel.”
you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.
“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”
he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…
— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.
— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.
“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”
your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.
“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”
“i think i have time for both.”
☄. *. ⋆
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SVT (sophrosyne; virtĂš; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !
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Text
💋 ❛ ASTEROID MANIAC (228029) ༉‧₊˚ ☆
(through the signs, houses, and aspects)
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🥀♡
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i’ve been wanting to dive into this asteroid for the longest now. i hope you enjoy and are having a good day. if you have an astrology or tarot recommendations, i’m always willing to considering them. thank you so much 🫶🏽❤️
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ㅤㅤ༉‧₊˚.
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Asteroid Maniac (228029) is the asteroid of where and how you seek thrills and excitement in your life; where and how you are willing to take risks without fearing the consequences. On the other hand, this asteroid presents where we exhibit symptoms of wild behavior to an excessive or obsessive extent.
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maniac in aries
These individuals desire to seek true adventure and spontaneity in their life. They seem to always be eager to seek challenges that they can overcome or scenarios in which they can test themselves or others. Additionally, these people love taking on different ventures and activities at once as it keeps them expecting what is going to happen next. This placement also strives to be leaders, take control of things, and make things happen. This often makes independent, expressive, goal-oriented, and dynamic people; they have a bold and passionate approach to anything they are urged to do. On the other hand, this placement can cause the excessive need to lead others which can point to control issues or a domineering personality. Not to mention, there is the possibility of restlessness and constantly seeking action. Their need for action and impulsiveness can lead to them going after things without any forethought and not caring for the consequences. These are the types of people to seek or invoke anger or irritation in others just for entertainment.
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maniac in taurus
People with this placement strive for comfort and stability. These individuals may have a strong need to be financially stable and secure. Additionally, they are always willing to bask in the luxuries and pleasures of life. Therefore, they are more than likely investing in long-term plans and set goals to achieve these things which makes them determined, resilient, and strong-headed individuals. They are also methodical and practical in how they acquire these things. However, these individuals desire stability and security so excessively that they are not likely to adjust their plans or projects for anyone or anything. This can make them stubborn or hard to please. Due to their immense desire for comfort and pleasure, there is also the possibility of overindulgence. These are the types of people who would gain tons of weight to the point when they get health problems or become heavily obsessed with money to the point when they’ll do just about anything to get it.
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maniac in gemini
These people long for intellectual conversation, exploring ideas, learning, and communication. They are restless individuals who have a strong desire to be mentally stimulated by themselves and their surroundings, even to the point of starting controversy or debates. These individuals are always willing to try new things and learn throughout, which makes them versatile people. They have a creative and open-minded approach to do anything they strive to do. This shows that people with this placement are usually innovatively talented, often mastering music, fashion, art, writing and much more. These people are often willing to speak their opinion about things and they aren’t afraid to do it even if they know others won’t receive them well. However, these individuals tend to speak before thinking which can cause disagreements amongst their peers. Additionally, they often struggle with sticking to a certain project or idea without completing it. These individuals need to practice patience and reflective quality, especially when it comes to others’ input.
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maniac in cancer
They have a deep and personal approach to doing the things they long to do. These individuals strive for emotional comfort, intimacy, and security. They are loyal individuals who would do anything to make sure the people they love and care about are safe and comfortable. Hence, they are super nurturing and helpful people. They are always willing to help and connect with others. However, there could be this excessive need to protect oneself or their loved ones. This could make someone who is possessive and clingy. Additionally, these people are afraid of change due to prioritizing their security and familiarity; and they struggle with vulnerability at times due to wanting to preserve their personal world.
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maniac in leo
These individuals desire to be a leader and take on their world. People with this placement do not let anybody or anything dictate them to do anything as they strive to live their life through authenticity, confidence, and boldness. There is this urge for self-expression and ultimate creativity. Additionally, these individuals strive for attention, regal treatment, and appreciation from others, especially for their talents and abilities. From a negative sense, there could be a need for excessive amounts of attention that could cause ego issues of where they feel underestimated or underappreciated by others. Some individuals may try to bring other people down to put themselves on a pedestal, or do absurd things to simply get the attention of others. It is important to accept to show who you are without becoming domineering, arrogant, or attention-seeking.
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maniac in virgo
People with this placement approach life with sensibility, analysis, and mindfulness. These individuals strive for order and structure. They desire to find productive solutions to problems in their life; additionally, they focus on efficiency of things and pay attention to detail. These people are hardworking and disciplined individuals who are always willing to improve themselves and help others. This placement is more than likely to create people who are idealists in their pursuits. However, there could be a tendency to be overly critical of oneself and others, becoming perfectionists. Sometimes these individuals may even be controlling and expecting anything and everything to go their way.
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maniac in libra
These people approach life with calmness, objectivity, and diplomacy. They strongly seek pleasure, peace, justice and balance in their life. Most notably, they desire true connection and relationships with others. These individuals do not mind seeing both sides of the argument and submitting to anyone’s opinions. However, this could cause them to struggle with confronting conflict and decisions or standing up for themselves. These folk also strive to be liked and taken well by others, so they would probably do almost anything to make sure it is that way. This shows that they can lean towards the tendency of being two-faced, fake, or people-pleasing in efforts to get everyone on their side. People tend to not realize that these individuals can be lowkey manipulative if the situation calls for it, especially when they want their image to be perfect and unscathed. They are very intelligent individuals who can adjust things to the way they like it; for instance in drama, fights, and social situations.
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maniac in scorpio
They have a deep, intense, calculated, and introspective way in how they approach their life circumstances. Firstly, these individuals strive for intimacy and confidential elements in their interpersonal relationships and affairs. They desire to get to know themselves and they care about them to a huge degree. This can point to them having a tendency of being secretive and contriving. They want to know everything and anything about someone for the sake of trust and benefiting from it. Additionally, these people long for power and control. Even if it comes to the point where they have to do conniving things to get it, which could give them the tendency of being manipulative and deceptive. On a calmer note, these individuals are not afraid at all to explore the deeper and taboo sides of time, and they desire to. It is important for the people with this placement to respect the boundaries–especially the spiritual boundaries–of others.
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maniac in sagittarius
These individuals tend to have a high-spirited, jovial, and philosophical approach to their life. These people strive to learn, experience, and enjoy the present. They could have a huge love for traveling, exploring different cultures and various topics, and having fun while doing so. These folk are always searching for the next big thing that'll make them feel that spark for living. Not to mention, they love socializing, making friends, and getting to know people as well. However, these individuals can be impulsive because they tend to not have any forethought when they do anything because of their rush to experience what is among their horizons. It is important for these people to not pursue things without any awareness of the consequences. These folk can also be a bit brash and indifferent to other people and their boundaries and feelings. It is crucial that these individuals accept responsibility and the feelings/thoughts of others. This is one of the placements who are more than likely to develop addictions or overindulgent practices.
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maniac in capricorn
People with this placement go after their projects and ideas with a sense of discipline, authority, and maturity. These individuals strive to create stability, success, and achievement in their lifetime. They are hardworking and whenever they desire something, they make sure that they get it, even if it takes unusual activities to do so. They are rigorous individuals, which can cause them to become workaholics if they are not careful. They could be the types to work or indulge in their materials (such as money, cars, etc.) to avoid their psychological issues as it seems to be what they value the most. It is important for these people to find balance in work and self-care. These folks know how to make it happen for themselves, and they are usually aware of what they desire. However, they have a tendency of feeling entitled to have something even when it isn’t necessarily theirs. Not to mention, they can get controlling or uncaring of others feelings or desires as well.
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maniac in aquarius
These people approach life with the idea that they should go against the crowd and challenge conventional ideologies with ideas and projects that are unique, objective, and different. These individuals are strong advocates and they could be drawn to being activists or fighting for the unfortunate or different population. They also strive to stand out from everyone else in the crowd, even the point of being an outcast. These are the types of people who would do bizarre and rebellious things to simply challenge society’s ideas and cause a revolution. Additionally, they aren’t afraid of being trailblazers even if it costs getting criticism or judgment. In other cases, these individuals could have a strong interest in technology and sciences of any sorts; or perhaps they could have multiple friends and love socializing with others, especially others with the same mindset as them. However, these folks need to consider others feelings as they could also struggle with obeying boundaries.
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maniac in pisces
They have a creative, compassionate, and spiritual approach to their life circumstances. Firstly, these individuals are creative and artistic, maybe even spiritual. They could love music, the arts, design, astrology, daydreaming, or the occult. They strive to express themselves through their own personal mediums to get away from the world and fall into their safe space. These people long to stay in their world where they don’t have to come into contact with reality and responsibilities. Nevertheless, these folks could struggle with accepting reality as it is and their natural obligations. This can cause these individuals to fall into addictions or unhealthy activities to help them escape from their problems. Not to mention, they are kind, friendly, and understanding individuals. They long to help others and provide others the comfort and getaway they need to feel in touch with their soul. They want vulnerable relationships with others. However, it is easy for these people to be taken advantage of and drained of their energy; plus, they could become dependent on others' energies for happiness and groundedness. In other cases, these individuals can be unintentionally manipulative or emotionally abusive.
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maniac in the 1st house
These individuals aren’t afraid to do what they want and be themselves. They are confident, assertive, capable, and willful. They are the type to unapologetically do and stand by their beliefs, aspirations, and actions. Most notably, these folks want the most out of life. They strive to live out huge experiences; for example: traveling, skydiving, or going out to parties with strangers. Especially, you do not have to worry about whether you’ll have an eventful time with these people because they search for action and thrill all the time. However, these people can brush people off the wrong way with their brash and impulsive persona. They could come off as indifferent to others and their feelings, so it is important for them to consider the environment before they do what their mind tells them to. Due to the inexplicable confidence and assertiveness, they might strive for attention and acknowledgement for their sense of individuality, which can easily turn them into an attention-seeker. These are also the types of people who would do the most bizarre things to the point where it can even be downright unacceptable. On the bright side, these folks love trying out new appearances; they might love dying their hair, piercing their body parts, trying out tattoos, or indulging in surgery to enhance their looks.
maniac in the 2nd house
People with this placement long for material security, monetary value, and physical stability. These folks tend to know how to set long-term and sustainable goals for themselves in which they can achieve those things. Additionally, they love money. They are the types of individuals to do almost anything to become rich and stable. They also always have their eyes on the goal, and do not let anyone get in the way of it. Most notably, they are mainly focused on practical and material concerns, which can cause them to become a bit stubborn in their ways. This could even point to perfectionism as well. They might love shopping, eating, and spending money on things they adore. Nevertheless, this placement can point to someone being overindulgent or being too hard to please or sway.
maniac in the 3rd house
These people are opinionated, intelligent, and debative individuals. They are always willing to learn, discuss, and communicate with their peers. Additionally, they love connecting and socializing. They find thrill in challenging their/other’s minds, even to the point of presenting controversial or touchy subjects. One thing about these folks is that they aren’t afraid to say what they want to say. It is possible that they may have been considered a black sheep in their school years, making them feel misunderstood. Not to mention, these individuals tend to be open-minded to a whirlwind of topics, and they can be creative in their thought processes. However, these people may need to learn to filter their words and thoughts as it is easy for them to not be received well due to their controversial and impulsive opinions and thoughts. This placement, on the extreme spectrum.
maniac in the 4th house
They have a deep-seated connection to their past, home, familial connections, and the emotional and spiritual aspects of their life. These individuals strive to feel a personal environment and safe haven for themselves, and maybe even their loved ones. Additionally, they long for protection and to protect. These folks want to be in touch with their inner world and dive into themselves. However, this can point to the huge fear of moving on from the past and shows that these individuals have many traumas and issues to heal and confront. Furthermore, these people could become possessive and obsessive over their loved ones too. They would do almost anything for the people they care about, and you can imagine how they would be as a parent.
maniac in the 5th house
These individuals have a strong desire to express themselves through their individuality and creative talents. They are often drawn to the dance, music, fashion, and other forms of artistic expression. Furthermore, these folks strive for fun and pleasure in their life–they are the types to love going to parties, taking care of children, and indulging in their favorite hobbies. They tend to have an innocent, optimistic, and naive point of view of the world, and they are always seeking to explore new things too. However, these people can often submit to the tendency of escaping their reality through their leisure pursuits to ignore their responsibilities and practical concerns. Additionally, these individuals have more of a unique–maybe even an entirely eccentric way–of expressing themselves than others. They are more than likely to stand out from others due to their intriguing and different talents and hobbies.
maniac in the 6th house
People with this placement strive for working hard and creating a structure in their daily life. They are individuals who want perfection in their projects, efficiency in their skill, and a routine in everything they do. Not to mention, they value dedication in approach to their goals. They might be the types who care vastly about their health, the nutrition they eat, and their wellbeing. However, this could cause these individuals to be perfectionists or overwork themselves to a troublesome degree. It is almost that they could struggle with stepping out of their routine to accommodate to anything, which can also make these people incredibly stubborn and controlling. There needs to be a balance in regards to their routine, work and personal life. This placement could even cause fear or anxiety such as intrusive thoughts (perhaps even OCD in extreme cases) when they try to rebel against their routine. People with this placement might like the idea of owning exotic pets.
maniac in the 7th house
These people value their connections and interpersonal relationships. They strive to understand the perspectives of the people they are involved with, whether that be romantically, platonically, or professionally. These folks always strive to connect and engage. However, this placement can point to an individual having a strong need for independence in a relationship; they might feel a push to rebel and act merciless in the relationship, not respecting the other partner’s boundaries and feelings. On the other hand, this could indicate someone who has a strong need for dependence in a relationship; they desire for someone to count on them for everything or vice versa. These are the types of individuals who jump into multiple relationships in a short period of time. They cannot live without one. Additionally, these folks could have a chaotic dating history and a line of unexpected partners in regards to their type. In other cases, this placement can indicate that they may attract insane or mad people into their love life.
maniac in the 8th house
They strive for intimacy and deep soul-seated connections, whether that be platonic or romantic. They strive to be vulnerable with others and for others to be vulnerable with them. These people desire power and control amongst many levels because this is what they are comfortable doing. They are the type of person to hex someone who they have it out for. Not to mention, these individuals could want to push boundaries and indulge in taboo practices such as spirituality, the occult, etc. This placement can indicate someone who has unusual, scary, or inappropriate sexual fantasies. However, these folks can have the tendency of going beyond other’s limits and becoming controlling. In extreme cases, these individuals could use vicious methods to keep people under their grasp.
maniac in the 9th house
These individuals long to expand their horizons, discover new things, and live their reality through spirituality and deep wisdom. These are the type of people who are highly devoted to divine practices such as meditation, shadow work, reiki healing, and much more. Furthermore, these folks love to explore and invest in different religions, cultures, and belief systems–even the ones that aren’t accepted by society. These people might like to indulge in unconforming religious practices. This shows that people with this placement have a deep appreciation and acceptance for people, religions, practices, and cultures from anywhere. This placement also increases the chances to connect with diverse people and gain unique ideas throughout their life. These individuals may have certain ideologies and belief systems that others may consider odd. Additionally, they might have a strong desire to travel to unusual places such as countries with eccentric standards of living. On the other hand, these people may want to go to college for a different degree or they want to go to a special type of college from others. However, it is easy for these individuals to develop a superiority complex or become too idealistic. They could struggle with believing that their system of beliefs and philosophies are objective, and that other people’s opinions and ideas are just as important and objective too. They have a tendency of believing that everything they stand for is the correct thing. On an extreme note, this could create scrupulosity as well–higher obsession with religious and/or personal morals to the point of compulsivity.
maniac in the 10th house
These people are goal-oriented, dedicated, and hardworking. They value their career success, public image, status, and legacy they leave behind in this world. Not to mention, they are progressive individuals as they strive to achieve their highest aspirations with no stopping. They’ll persist with accomplishing their biggest desires and will do just about anything to do so. On the contrary, these individuals could have the tendency to become too ambitious, and their ambition could more than likely lead to their downfall. (when I think of this placement, I immediately think of Macbeth or Jay Gatsby because they are the epitome of overly ambitious characters) Additionally, their ambition could lead to them doing many things just to get to where they want to be. They could even become obsessed with status and power and become controlling individuals. On a positive note, these people are relentlessly determined and it is hard for them to give up on what they truly want from life. However, it is important for these people to make sure to maintain professionalism and boundaries in the workplace as they could have the tendency to be entitled.
maniac in the 11th house
Individuals with this placement strongly prioritize and long for their goals, hopes and dreams, friendships, and society. These people will advocate for their friend groups and communities immensely as they long for a sense of belonging and also want to protect the space that accepts them the most. These folks are never afraid to make new friends, even with people that society wouldn’t desire to connect with–such as outcasts, criminals, etc. They are compassionate and open to anyone being a part of their clique. These people also strongly strive to pursue large projects, social reforming activities, and serving the community; and they aren’t afraid to do so. This makes them rebels who would rather do the complete opposite of what is expected of them to prove their point on their values. They will do just about anything to make sure their community or a certain group of people get the security, respect, and hope they deserve. On the other hand, it is easy for these individuals to become distant and indifferent to others and their feelings as well as get caught up in abrupt situations due to self-sacrificing for the people they care about (especially in their social circle) It is important for the people with this placement to not rely on validation from your community and friends too much.
maniac in the 12th house
They try to hide the animalistic, excessive, and wild qualities of themselves; in fact, they may assume that they are the complete opposite. However, the very traits they try to defy only appear through their subconscious and inner self, and eventually become their shadow qualities. It is easy for these individuals to live life controlling their instinctive qualities and inhibit themselves. However, they carry much of their uncultivated qualities inside of themselves. Firstly, these folks are strongly focused with their inner world and imagination. They long to daydream and escape from the real world into their unadulterated mind where they can be without holding back. This placement can point to an obsession or strong desire with the occult, metaphysics, or spirituality. However, this can also point to a whirlwind of many unfiltered but pent up emotions–unresolved fears, emotions, and blockages. Hence, it is easy for these individuals to get wrapped up in their own world and make themselves go crazy. In extreme cases, this placement can point to mental illness, anxiety, or personality disorders. It is essential for these individuals to learn to embrace this side of themselves and to stop holding in all of their excessive qualities and accept it as a part of them.
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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ♡ through the aspects ♡
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ďżźsun-maniac
These individuals have a charismatic, goal-oriented, and assertive personality. With this aspect, there is this strong need for achievement, accomplishment, and recognition. These people are unafraid and strive to create the best version of themselves; at the same time, they are open and willing to be who they are with no apologies. They carry themselves in a unique and controversial way so effortlessly. However, there are times where this individual may be unpredictable and erratic. Additionally, there is a tendency for these people to be controlling or manipulative.
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moon-maniac
Firstly, these people are deeply attuned with their emotions, and they are always open to basking in them. They also seek emotional comfortability and vulnerability with others. On the other hand, there could be a struggle to control or balance one’s emotions and handle their wellbeing. They might be overly sensitive, childish, or lack to respect boundaries. It is important to find a healthy compromise with your inner world and your outer world. Rationalizing and understanding one’s feelings through forms of therapy or art may help these individuals.
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mercury-maniac
These folks have a unique and special way of communion and logically expressing themselves to others. They may use a medium of art to do so, or they have an eccentric way of communication. Furthermore, they take in information way different from others, and they most definitely view the world differently too. Not to mention, they have distinctive opinions and thought processes that make them stand out from the crowd. However, it is important for these individuals to have a filter when communicating with others as it is easy for them to start a controversy and ruffle someone’s feathers. It is important to be kind and gentle with others in your means of communication.
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venus-maniac
These individuals love the idea of love and connections. Most notably, they like being in love and developing interpersonal relationships, whether that be platonically, romantically, or in other forms. They hold very specific values when it comes to love, beauty, the arts, and much more. And they aren’t afraid to execute those said values because that is what they’ll stand by. These are the types of folks who adore shopping for new clothes, indulging in foods, and doing their makeup all the time. However, it is easy for these people to become easily obsessed with their relationships, their physical appearance, their money and much more. They may even get controlling. It is important to not get wrapped up in their ideals.
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mars-maniac
These people are deeply driven and competitive individuals. They will do anything and everything to achieve their goals, dreams, and desires. Most notably, they are unapologetically assertive and brave go-getters. They could have a tendency to become overly aggressive and domineering, expecting others to submit to them. They might feel the need to force their way into being respected, which will only cause hate and disorder amongst others and their own reputation. It is important for these individuals to be kind, gentle, and respectful with others and to balance their aggression and masculine parts of their personality.
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jupiter-maniac
This placement indicates one having an impulse to explore and push their luck, to live an active life, and ultimately strive for personal freedom. These individuals tend to have a “you only live once” type of mindset, or they are more lenient when it comes to restrictions, regulations and abiding by the rules. This is only because they have an urge to live without anything tying them down. However, this could also point to them having tendencies in excessive indulgence such as alcohol, food, and etc. Additionally, there could be a habit of taking risks without fearing the consequences.
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saturn-maniac
These individuals are often disciplined, firm, and thoughtful in their endeavors; they may know how to stay focused and pursue their aspirations. When they have goals to pursue, it is easy for them to attain the ambition needed to accomplish them because they care for their dreams so much. Not to mention, they are fairly meticulous people as they are usually good at planning for the future and successfully going about things. However, there is also the tendency of being too invested in planning and becoming cautious and stagnant in approaching those goals. While on the other hand, some individuals may struggle to stay realistic when it comes to their goals. It is easy for them to be swept up by “what it could be” instead of simply going after it logically. This aspect calls for the individual to be able to balance enthusiasm and ambition with caution and maturity. It is important to be able to stay realistic–but do not feel discouraged–about your goals. As those tendencies can cause one to make rash and poor decisions due to a misguided optimism.
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uranus-maniac
Characters with this placement tend to have a drive and excitement for change, freedom, innovation and liberation. They may feel strongly about social justices, activism, and many other social-related communities. Additionally, these people are always hoping to beat around the push and challenge the usual to turn it into something new and unconventional. These individuals have a unique sense of individuality, and they feel so strongly about demonstrating their sense of individuality to others with no apologies. However, it is easy for these people to forget about others and the rational and make decisions and changes without considering the potential consequences. And they could easily embarrass themselves or cause chaos. Furthermore, they strive to be open to new ideas and perspectives.
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neptune-maniac
These individuals dedicate a significant portion of their lives to the unknown, spirituality, intuition, and imagination. They are often creative, interested, and artistic; they more than likely strive to stay in their own world as it is what drives them individually. However, it is easy for these folks to lose themselves in the realm of their vivid fancy. Excessive idealism and a struggling balance between spirituality and practicality is possible with this aspect. It is especially possible for one to neglect their practical responsibilities due to their excessive attention to their inner world. This aspect could also make someone susceptible to mental illness or delusions in extreme cases.
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pluto-maniac
Individuals with this placement have a significantly different way of handling the abrupt changes and transformations that occur in their lifetime. At the same time, these people have a strong need to adapt to many changes and repeatedly start over in life. These are the types of folks who constantly move to a different home, change their physical appearance, and in extreme cases, change their entire identity. Only because there is a drive to start over and transform into a type of person that is appropriate for them at that time. However, it is important to find a balance in changes. It is easy for these individuals to become excessive in their creative outlets as well as let their emotions and turmoil get the best of them in dire situations.
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ascendant-maniac
These individuals tend to have a complex and intricate self-concept and sense of who they are in the world; they might prioritize their sense of selves to an extreme degree and strive to find exactly who they are and how they contribute to themselves and others on a day-to-day, face-to-face basis. That is why these people may have tendencies of struggling with balancing between their personal priorities and others’ and the outside world’s needs. On one hand, they are entirely focused on themselves to the degree of being self-absorbed, while on the other hand, they are entirely focused on serving others to the degree of neglecting their character. It is important these folks learn to find temperance in a strong sense of self and being open and grounded. It is also easy for them to go insane as they can sometimes drown in the day-to-day routine and autopilot. It is important for these individuals to find true meaning in their life, relationships, and other areas they may have never thought about or neglected.
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midheaven-maniac
These folks put an immense amount of work, dedication, and persistence in regards to their career goals, works, and aspirations. The need for personal recognition and accomplishment is so huge for these individuals, that it is possible that they may feel they could do just about anything to pursue them–even neglecting their personal life. There is also an issue with modesty within this aspect. The approach to success can easily get the best out of these people and turn them into controlling, domineering, and inconsiderate individuals. Not to mention, they hope to reach for the stars–which is good in most cases–but it could lead to them being completely unrealistic and letting their ambition take over without any planning, rigidity, or cautiousness.
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thank you for viewing my post! it’s been a while since i’ve posted, so i’m happy that i’m trying to become active again. god bless you all and have an amazing rest of the day 😊❤️✨
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