#Assignment live class services

[mulloey]

the shop

your car has broken down for the nth time, but yunho’s there to save the day. just your luck you don’t have enough money to pay him.

mechanic!yunho x fem!reader

words: 2.7k

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warnings: dom!yunho, sub!reader, paying with your body trope, you already wanted to fuck him though, probably inaccurate pricing for car repair services cus i can’t drive tbh, unprotected sex, degrading, choking, slapping, creampie etc. not proofread

—

You’re dizzy and delirious, putty in his hands as he holds you firmly in place, right where he wants you.

“Y-Yunho!” You squeal. You writhe in his grip a little but it’s far too strong to resist.

He’s got you bent over the hood of the car—your car—while he pounds into you like a desperate, starving man. His overalls are hanging around his waist, just low enough for him to pull his cock out; his white t-shirt is soaked in sweat and the oil-covered gloves on his hands rub painfully against the skin of your hips.

“F-fuck,” he grunts. Your hips collide painfully with the hood every time he thrusts into you and your ass bounces and reddens each time your bodies collide. “What a fucking cock whore. You do this every time you can’t pay the bill? Huh?”

“N-no,” you sob. “Just you, Yunho. Just… hngh… just you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he snarls. His hand comes down on your ass again, raw and painful over the marks he left earlier and you find yourself looking back on everything that lead you here—lead you to being bent over your broken down car while the hottest man you’ve ever fucking seen is slamming his dick into you like his life depends on it.

You suppose the first part—ending up at the auto shop—was inevitable. The car was fucked when you bought it, honestly, but there weren’t many other options for a broke college student. You lived in another district where rent is cheaper, so needed a car to get to class. Didn’t matter how good it was, it just needed to run.

Trust your luck that that seemed to be the only thing it wouldn’t do.

For a period you managed to get by fixing it yourself; Youtube tutorials and favours from friends were enough to deal with all the minor issues that came up, but as minor issues tend to do, they quickly piled up on top of each other until, the morning your presentation was due, you put the keys in the ignition, started the car and—nothing. It did nothing. You were the unluckiest person in the fucking world.

You’d called your best friend immediately, hoping he’d be able to find and fix the problem, but really, you knew it was past that point now—and if you didn’t before, the shock on Hongjoong’s face when he’d popped the hood was evidence enough.

“Jesus, woman,” he said. “You gotta get this thing to a repair shop.”

“You know I can’t afford that,” you snapped back. Instantly you felt guilty for your tone, he was just trying to help after all, so you tried to soften up a bit. “Joong, can you really not fix it?”

“No, I’m sorry. But I know a guy who owns an auto shop. He’ll probably let me use my friends and family discount on you. I’ll give him a call.”

Relief flooded your chest and you hugged him tightly, thanking him profusely even as he walked away chuckling to make the call. In the meantime you called your professor; you thanked God you were such a good student, never missing class or assignments—you doubt she’d have been so forgiving otherwise. “Come by during office hours tonight and you can present it then,” she’d said, and you thanked her with a smile.

Okay, you thought. You just needed to deal with this, do your presentation and the nightmare would be over.

How wrong you were.

—

The auto shop was, well, pretty much how you pictured it. Cars in various states of completion sat in the spacious garage, walls piled with wheels and various other parts, the uses of which you probably would never have been able to guess. The only thing that took you by surprise was the tall, young looking guy who came up and introduced you as the owner.

“Hey, darling,” he smiled. “I’m Yunho. Let’s get you all fixed up, yeah?”

You blushed at his words, and the deep, sultry voice that spoke them. You imagined that was his intention; the way his eyes flickered up and down suggested the attraction was mutual. Or maybe that was just his personality; maybe the flirtatious tone, the innuendo of his words and his intense, intimidating gaze just came naturally to him.

He walked you over to where he had your car laid out and ready to go. Popping the hood, he surveyed the condition with a serious, focused expression. In the heat of the garage, his face was sweating slightly, and he swallowed thickly as he looked everything over. It made the vein in his neck bulge, tension obvious. When he stood back up again he seemed cool and assured; the opposite of you. You felt… confused. Hot. Tense.

“It’s not a huge problem,” he smiled. “Shouldn’t take more than an hour to fix it.”

You didn’t expect that. “Really?” You lit up, overjoyed and he chuckled.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’ve got a staff room if you wanna wait around. May as well, since I should be done pretty quick.”

“Oh, yeah.” That made sense; there didn't seem to be many cafes or places around here for you to wait in anyway—and even if there were, none of them offered the view that the staff room he led you to had; the large glass window looking directly into the garage. You’d be able to keep an eye on your car as he worked—and on Yunho.

He got to work straight away and though you knew next to nothing about cars, save for the Youtube tutorials on greasing brakes and whatever else, but his skill was obvious. His large hands, covered by thick, dirtied gloves, worked quickly and efficiently.

He clearly knew you were watching him, and he clearly enjoyed it; every now and then he would look up from the car, meeting your eyes and tilting his head with a small, smug smirk. When he stood up to unzip his overalls, revealing a thin white t-shirt clinging to his broad chest, you found yourself inching closer and closer to the window without realising. Only when your face was practically pressed up against the glass did you back away, blushing furiously as you sunk into your seat. What the hell was wrong with you?

You’d never been like this about a man. Not even close. No one had ever made you so needy, so hot, so desperate. You didn’t even know you could be affected by someone in this way, yet here you were; thighs clenched together, breathing heavily and your face so hot you were practically feverish. He’d catch your gaze now and then still, and the expression on his face told you he knew everything that was going on in your head—and your body.

The sight of him putting the hood back down was a mercy and a curse; your car was fixed, you could leave, and you could get away from this man; three things you’d been waiting desperately for all this time.

But…did you even want to leave? It would be the smart thing to do, and the sooner you could get him out of your head, the better. But everything in your body screamed at you not to go, to stay and see what happens—if nothing did, at least you’d know. At least you wouldn’t have to wonder for the rest of your life.

He gestured for you to come out of the staff room, proudly showing you your fixed car. Your attraction to him aside, Yunho’s skill surprised you; the old, battered vehicle almost looked new, and when he started the engine to check it worked it sounded clearer and healthier than ever. “Holy shit,” you muttered.

Yunho laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty good. How do you wanna pay?”

You sighed. You never liked this part; who did? It was always painful to part ways with the little cash you earned at your god awful waitressing job, but you had to do what you had to do. “Card,” you mumbled.

“Alright,” he smiled. “It’s 250,000won. I’ll get the machine.”

He disappeared into what you guessed was another staff room and you stood awkwardly for a moment. Even with him gone the air was thick, sweaty; tense. He returned with the card machine, holding it out for you to take and you put your card in with shaking hands, pressing down the familiar numbers. Well, there goes the last of your mone—

The machine made a high-pitched, displeased noise that you knew all too well. Declined. You made a noise of shock, shaking your head in disbelief. It can’t have declined. You knew you had enough for this. You had to have enough. What the hell is—

Oh. Fuck. When they towed your car here this morning and you followed in a taxi with Hongjoong. When you insisted on paying the fare to thank him for his help. Fuck. You need to be a worse friend.

You didn’t realise you were crying until you felt hands on yours; he grasped your shaking hands carefully, holding them steadily. His face was blank, but he seemed thoughtful.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “Fuck, what do I– I swear I–”

“Hey, hey.” His voice was calm and soft but a little lower than before. “Relax, doll. We’ll work something out, yeah?”

“Work something out?” You echoed his words, voice shaking.

“Of course,” he smiled. He tilted his head and you saw his eyes raking over you again; but this time it felt less like leering and more like… an inspection. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Tell me.” His voice seemed to have dropped an octave, thick with tension. “Are you really out of money?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Are you really out of money?” He repeated it, slower this time as though he was trying to dumb it down for you. “Or did you do this on purpose?”

You shook your head fervently, your body heating up with embarrassment and desperation and shame and, well, pretty much everything honestly. “No, Yunho, I—”

“I think you did.” He was grinning now, eyes piercing as he stared you down. He was still for a moment, seeming to consider something before he grabbed your chin, yanking your head up to meet his eyes. The material of the gloves was rough against your soft skin and the tightness of his grip was even more painful. “I bet you put the wrong numbers in on purpose, huh? Didn’t you?”

“I…” You didn’t know what to say. You knew what he was saying wasn’t true, but fuck, you could already feel wetness pooling at the thought of what he’d do to you if it was. But he seemed to have made his mind up either way, so you decided to play his game—you widened your eyes fearfully, lip shaking as you said “I promise, I didn’t” in the most pathetic voice you could muster.

He knew what you were doing, and he fucking loved it. His smile widened as he leaned in closer to you. From this distance you could see his pupils were blown, eyes flashing with arousal. “I think you’re lying to me,” he whispers. “And you know what’s more, little girl?”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

He tightened his grip, yanking your head upwards again to expose your neck. His other hand wrapped itself around your throat like it belonged there. “I hate liars.”

—

You don’t even know how long he’s been fucking you now; your sense of time has blurred and muddied and it could have been minutes just as much as it could have been hours. All you can feel or think about is the feeling of his dick fucking you open, hitting your cervix over and over; and the strong arms that move and manipulate your body to increase his own pleasure.

He grabs your hair, yanking it back painfully and forcing you to look at him. “That’s it,” he grunts. “You’re gonna look at me while I’m fucking you, yeah?”

“Yes,” you cry. “Yes, Yunho.”

“Good fucking girl.” His other hand wraps around your throat again, choking you just this side of too much. The head rush it gives you only sends you further into delirium, amplifying the other sensations. His deep, strained voice is fire in your ears. “Fucking stupid whore, aren’t you?”

He punctuates it with an extra hard thrust and you cry out again, voice strangled. “Yes, Yunho!” You scream. “Yes!”

“Say it,” he growls. “Tell me you’re a fucking whore.”

“I’m a fucking whore,” you repeat. To hear the words from your own mouth, to taste them on your tongue as he forces you to degrade yourself sends another wave of pleasure through you that pushes you closer to the edge. Yunho makes a pleased sound, rewarding you by loosening his grip on your neck ever so slightly.

“You’re my fucking whore,” he whispers. “Yunho’s whore.”

“Yunho’s whore.” You repeat it without thinking and you feel him throb again inside you at your natural submission. “I’m Yunho’s whore.

“That you fucking are. Bending over for me over 250,000 fucking won. You’re a cheap little slut,” he spits. “But only for me, yeah?”

“Yes!” You feel yourself about to come undone and just as you finally reach breaking point he pulls out, cock hard and leaking; before you can protest he picks you up without a word, flipping you onto your back before shoving his cock back inside. “Wanna see you properly when I come in you,” he grunts. “Wanna see those eyes go fucking dumb for me.”

He lifts your legs and pushes them back towards you. The stretch is painful and uncomfortable but it’s hard to care about any of that when he’s fucking you so deep and hard. The weight of his hands pressing down on the backs of your thighs will surely leave bruises but you don’t mind—you’d probably love it, actually.

Now that you’re facing him you can see all the small details of his face while he fucks you; the beads of sweat pooling on his forehead, the black hair soaked through with it, the narrowed eyes and clenched jaw as his grip on your thighs tightens even further. He’s practically pressing all his weight against you now and it’s a delicious, painful pleasure. You reach out to him desperately—though desperate for what you’re not quite sure—and he grabs your hands, bending down to pin your arms against the car as he takes you in a hot, wet, messy kiss.

“Pretty girl,” he chokes. “So fucking pretty.”

“Yunho.” You feel tears pouring down your cheeks, overwhelmed with sensation, with the feeling of Yunho on every inch of your body. He pulls his mouth away from yours to press sloppy kisses across your jaw and neck, teasing the skin with his teeth. “Think you can come for me?” He murmurs. “Just from being used like this?”

“Yes, Yunho,” you whisper. “I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he growls. He moves a hand down to press his thumb against your swollen clit, making you buck against him. “Come on my fat fucking cock like a good little girl. Earn your keep, baby.”

The heat in his words and the pressure of his thumb on your clit are enough to send you barrelling over the edge; you come with a noise you didn’t even know you made and he follows quickly, releasing inside of you with a strangled cry.

It’s silent for a moment and time seems to still while you process what’s just happened. You whine when you feel him pull out of you and he chuckles, gently slapping your pussy. “What a good girl,” he muses. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He sends you on your way with his business card in your pocket and his number in your phone. It takes you two weeks to find the nerve to call him, and that’s only because your car’s been making a weird noise that you can’t figure out. To be honest, it’s probably something Hongjoong or one of your other friends would be able to solve, but it’s too late now; you’ve already pulled up his contact and pressed call.

“Well hello, sweetheart.” Yunho’s voice is as deep as ever, his tone teasing. “Was starting to think I wouldn’t hear from you.”

“Yeah, um.” You clear your throat awkwardly, feeling yourself heat up again. “My car— it’s making a weird noise. Can you take a look at it?”

“Of course,” he says, and you hear the leering smile in his voice. “Why don’t you come down now? It’s a slow day at the shop anyway.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“Great. Oh, and baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t bring your credit card.”

—

requests open! comments and feedback appreciated. love🖤🖤🖤

tags: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi

[arabellasfvv]

Professor!Gaz who knows what he wants from the moment he sees it. Who plans how to get it from that same moment too. Who has to take a breather when you say his name in that sweet voice of yours, which just anchors his fixation on you.

Professor!Gaz who enjoys giving you harder assignments. Who either gets off on your intelligence when you manage to finish them on time with great marks. Or gets off on your desperation when you come begging for an extension or his help.

Professor!Gaz who looks you in the eyes when he hands back graded assignments. Smiling at you while crooning how good you did. (Don't be suprised if there's a a stain or two on your paper. He's just a messy man, nothing to do with him jerking off while grading, imagining you all focused while writing this.)

Professor!Gaz who has you in his office late in the evening. Academic talk having been turned to personal a while ago. A glass of bourbon in his hand, maybe in yours too. Or maybe he played mean and just gave you some soda, "shouldn't drink under the week."

Professor!Gaz is far from oblivious. He sees the way you stick mostly to yourself. Who invites you to his home when you're that vulnerable. He's quick to make you feel comfortable there. Letting you snoop through his living room, letting you ask all the questions you want about the things around.

Eventually having you sit on the couch with him, your feet on his lap. Firms hands massaging them through your socks, biting back a smirk at the clear relief you feel. Takes the opportunity to catch you off guard and ask you about the students who weren't playing nice torward you.

Professor!Gaz who can't stand what he heard. So a week later they're all gone. Years of military service making it easy to get rid of bodies. Or y'know, make his stance clear infront of the principle and get them expelled. It doesn't matter how he did it, all you need to know is they're gone sweetheart.

Professor!Gaz who doesn't have you under his table, (which is not to say he doesn't appreciate it when you go there on your own) but is the one under your table lapping at your cunt or throating your dick while you're working on your homework for some other Professor. He doesn't truly care if you get it done, he'll reward you if you do, but he'll also reward you if you don't. His class is the only one that should matter to you anyway. (Possesive fucker)

Professor!Gaz who makes you look him into the eye while his cock is drilling into your hole. Telling you how good you did on that last assignment, how proud he is for raising your hand in class. Who gives you questions to solve in the middle of sex. Making you finish for each correct answer, letting you stand on that edge until you get it right.

Professor!Gaz who gains a sense for when you're stressed. Who pulls you into his lap, biting and sucking at your neck while he let's you vent. Humming every now and then to tell you he's paying attention. His hand eventually slipping between your thighs, letting you ramble on before he makes your mind melt with just his fingers.

Professor!Gaz who has to sit behind his desk the next day because seeing the hickeys he left on your neck just gives him a raging boner each time.

Got into this train of thought thanks to @goatgoesmbe lol

[earlysunshines]

oh say it ditto

danielle marsh x fem!reader

synopsis: you have to help out at the elementary school for service hours and of course you’re paired with the girl you’ve literally been in love with since middle school.

warnings: literally none. just fluff. so cute. they're so cute. i need to be put behind bars for this. it's so... cute. what. ; loser!!!!!!yn i fear ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread ; i'm so giddy. they're so cute. i hate couples. i cnat breathe theyre so gay and in love.

a/n: I MISSED WRITING FOR MO DANI UGGHHHH MO DANIIII!!!!!

danielle marsh is perfect. she’s smart, kind, and easily the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. people always say she’s too good to be true, like a disney princess pulled right out of a movie, the kind of person who seems flawless in every way.

but to you? that description feels like an understatement—an understatement times ten.

there is not a single metaphor that could ever capture the way her presence lights up a room, or the way her smile—bright and contagious—makes your heart do flips. she’s beyond comparison, beyond words. you’ve known her since middle school, and in all that time despite barely having time with her, the feeling has only grown. she’s the type of person that’s just barely out of reach, so you’ve learned to cope with it.

which is exactly why, when your teacher had pulled you two aside after class, announcing that you’d be paired with her for your volunteer hours at the local elementary school, your stomach practically dropped to your shoes. she’s the type of person that’s just barely out of reach, so you’ve learned to cope with it. but now? she’s just within reach. 

“some others filled out the form, but i only needed the two of you since it’s for a smaller group.” mr. jeong explained. “and you two are the perfect candidates. thank you for your interest in this, my wife is really glad that we’re able to send the two of you over to help out—she works at the school.”

you clutch the strap of your bag a little tighter, trying to stay visibly and mentally composed. danielle is beside you smiling at your physics teacher, and then you catch her smiling at you from the corner of your eye. turning a bit, you shoot a small grin, then excuse yourself out.

just your luck, but maybe you’ll survive. this could turn out great for you!

as you walk down the hall, you feel someone tap on your shoulder. turning around, it’s her. 

danielle is behind you smiling. “see you monday!” she says with that honeyed voice of hers.

knowing yourself, maybe it won’t turn out so great. you might be doomed considering how much of a loser you are compared to miss sunshine.

—

you arrive at the elementary school the following monday, heart pounding as you push open the heavy doors to the small classroom where the after-school program is being held. a group of kids are already gathered, some working on crafts, others running around, their laughter filling the air. but none of it matters because standing near the teacher's desk, helping a kid tie their shoe, is danielle.

she looks up just as you step in, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "hey! looks like we’re partners in crime for the next few weeks," she says with a smile so genuine it makes you dizzy. “i’m glad you’re here.”

you force a grin, trying to play it cool. "yeah. um, and likewise.”

the teacher quickly assigns you both to work with a small group of students on some arts and crafts. you watch as danielle sits down with the kids, her voice soft and encouraging as she helps them cut out construction paper shapes. you, meanwhile, sit on the opposite side of the table, trying not to focus too much on the fact that you're mere feet away from the girl who’s had your heart for as long as you can remember.

as the session goes on, you find yourself slowly relaxing. the kids are lively and fun, and danielle's easygoing nature makes everything feel less intimidating (though the only thing that really made everything seem like that was her). she’s chatting with the students, laughing when they show her their goofy creations, and every now and then, she glances your way, offering you a smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

"how are you so good with them?" you ask her while cleaning up the table, genuinely curious.

danielle shrugs, her eyes twinkling. "i don’t know, i’m just fond of kids. they’re honest, you know? and they don’t care if you mess up or say the wrong thing."

you smiled, nodding, but her words hit closer to home than she realized. if only you could believe that—if only you could let yourself stop overthinking everything when it came to her.

“like you could ever do that,” you mutter under your breath. danielle catches it, but doesn’t comment on it. “i guess you’re right. i didn’t think of it that way.” you say at a normal volume, and danielle doesn’t have a hard time catching that.

as the afternoon starts to wind down, one of the kids tugs on your sleeve, showing you his glitter-covered drawing of what appears to be a dinosaur. "do you like it?" he ask, his eyes wide with anticipation.

you glance at danielle, who’s watching you with a curious expression, and suddenly, it feels like this moment matters more than anything. you take the drawing, smile at the kid, and say, "i think it’s awesome."

out of the corner of your eye, you catch danielle beaming at you, and for a second, it feels like maybe—just maybe—this whole thing won’t be as hard as you thought.

–

as the kids rushed out of the room, their laughter echoing down the hallways, you found yourself lingering behind, picking up scraps of paper and wiping glitter off the tables. danielle was still there too, helping the teacher gather leftover supplies. the room felt quieter now, just the two of you in the aftermath of the chaos, and for a moment, you both moved in comfortable silence, the air between you lighter than it had been earlier.

"it’s been a while, huh?" danielle says softly, her voice breaking the quiet as she stacked a few cups of markers on the shelf. you glanced over at her, heart suddenly racing again, because it was true—you hadn’t really spoken to her much since middle school, despite always being around. besides, she had been taking different courses than you, so there weren’t many shared classes. even if their were, you two had your respective groups, and danielle was quite popular compared to you, so you stayed out the picture while admiring from afar.

"yeah," you nod, tossing some crumpled-up paper into the trash bin, smiling when you make it. "guess we’ve both been pretty busy."

she smiles. that same soft, almost shy smile that always made your chest tighten. "swim has been taking up your time, huh?”

“oh, yeah, haha.”

“i’ve seen you around at your practices, you’re really good!”

“y-you have?” your eyes widen with surprise, gaze staying on her as she throws something away. 

“my friend hyein is on the team, you know her?”

“ah,” the underclassmen that tried to drown you (in a playful way, because that’s playful to hyein. allegedly so). “yeah.” you giggle thinking about your swimmate. “she’s very… fun.”

“she’s always up to something.” danielle giggles.

quiet fills the air as you two continue cleaning. danielle is stacking chairs, and you’re lifting each stack over to the edge of the classroom. neither of you say anything for a while, mindful of the other in a semi-awkward silence as you help the janitors out. 

danielle breaks the silence again.

“i didn’t realize how much i missed seeing you around until today," she admits, her words gentle but carrying more weight than you expected. she’s looking at you, standing maybe ten tiles away and her eyes are stuck on yours. you feel like you’re being mushed into the ground.

you blinked, caught off guard by her honesty, and suddenly, you weren’t sure how to respond. so you just smiled back, hoping it didn’t look too awkward. "yeah… same here, actually."

the silence stretched once again as you both continued cleaning up, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. it felt like something was shifting between you two, the years of distance slowly fading away, replaced by an old familiarity that had never really gone away.

once most of the mess was cleaned up, you found yourselves standing near the door, neither of you in any real hurry to leave. danielle looked down at her phone for a moment, then back up at you. "hey, do you drive?" she asks, her voice a little hesitant.

you nod. "yeah, i do. why?"

"i was thinking... we should probably carpool for this," she said, motioning to the classroom. "since we’re both gonna be volunteering here for the next few weeks, might as well make it easier on ourselves, right?"

the idea of seeing her more often, spending more time together, made your heart skip a beat. "yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you agree, trying to sound casual. "i can pick you up if you want?"

her eyes brighten at that, and for a moment, you could swear there was a bit of relief in her expression. "that’d be great."

you pull out your phone, opening up your contacts, and as you handed it over to her, your fingers brushed hers. it was a small, brief touch, but goosebumps were poking at the inside of your shirt after. even the hairs on your arm started to stand noticeably. danielle didn’t seem to notice—or maybe she did—but either way, she calmly typed in her number and handed the phone back to you with a smile.

"there," she says, her voice light. "now you have no excuse not to keep in touch."

you laugh, feeling your heart swell. "no excuses," you promise, and as you both left the classroom together, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between you two—the connection that had always been there but was finally starting to come into focus.

—

swim practice took up most of your days, which you didn’t mind. most of your friends were on the team anyway, so it just gave you an excuse to hang out when you weren’t practicing for your respective races.

it always went like this: ten minutes of warmups—light stretches and a couple of easy laps to get your muscles moving. then came fifteen minutes of drills, laps back and forth with barely any rest in between, focusing on your form, speed, and turns. the coach would shout instructions from the edge of the pool, calling out corrections or praise when you hit the perfect stroke. after that, you’d usually break into smaller groups, each focusing on different parts of the race. whether it was freestyle, butterfly, or backstroke, you’d put everything into perfecting your technique—freestyle was your forte—until your muscles burned and your lungs screamed for air.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, practice would wrap up with a cooldown: slow laps, easy strokes, and a few more stretches. additionally, there would be playful banter, and hyein would always find a way to bother you since she was also focused on freestyle. you two were inevitably always together, she was like the younger relative that would pester you any chance you got. 

your body always felt heavy afterward, but in a good way. exhausted and accomplished.

you’re dripping wet as you pull yourself out of the pool, every step feeling heavier than the last. practice might’ve ended, but the exhaustion clung to you as you made your way to the locker room, the sound of splashing water and your teammates’ chatter filling the space around you.

you change quickly, glad to get out of your damp swimsuit, and run a towel through your hair as best you could. it still dripped slightly when you finally stepped out of the locker room, feeling refreshed but undeniably drained.

and then you see her.

danielle stands just outside the entrance, her presence so unexpected that you almost stumble in surprise. you should be used to this, maybe, considering you saw her yesterday. your heart jumps to your throat, tiredness vanishing in an instant. she leans casually against the wall, scrolling through her phone, but when she notices you, her eyes lit up, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"hey!" she calls out, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. "fancy seeing you here." she says sarcastically.

your heart pounds, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your hair was probably sticking out at odd angles, still damp and messy. "h-hi," you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so awkward. "what—what are you doing here?"

danielle tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking a little sheepish. "i’m actually waiting for hyein.." she glances away, then back at you with a small, hesitant smile. "but, um, i wanted to see you too. just to say hi."

your heart practically stops at that. she wanted to see you. you feel your cheeks start to burn, or maybe they were always a little warm, you took a hot shower earlier and that would make a lot of sense, but also danielle is—

you scramble to find something—anything—to say that wouldn’t make you seem like a complete idiot. "oh, uh, really? that’s… nice. i mean, it’s great. i—it’s good to see you, too. again. we saw each other yesterday."

“why yes, we did.” danielle laughs softly, her eyes crinkling in that way that always made your stomach flip. "you’re cute— and funny."

you blink, completely caught off guard. your brain was short-circuiting. did she really just say that? were you more cute or funny? was the cute just thrown in there? you think for a bit, you make people laugh easily and— you need to stop thinking.

"oh, um, thank you? you too." you respond. she laughs again, shaking her head.

"i’m just teasing," she says, though there was something almost… nervous in her gaze as she looked at you. like she wasn’t sure if she’d overstepped. "but really, it’s nice running into you like this. you look different to how you did yesterday." 

you glance down at yourself, still dressed in loose sweats and hoodie, hair a mess. "different good or…?"

"definitely good," she confirms, her smile widening. "you look… relaxed. it suits you."

relaxed, right. you can’t help but chuckle.

before you can come up with a response that didn’t sound completely ridiculous, someone calls your name. you turn to see wonbin waving at you from the other end of the hall where the boys locker room is, sohee trailing behind him. it "hey! you done?" he asks, his voice carrying over the distance.

you blink, glancing back at danielle, and she gives you a small, understanding nod. "you should go," she murmurs softly. "don’t want to keep your friends waiting."

"yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you next week" you hate how reluctant you sound.

danielle’s smile softens up, something almost wistful in her eyes. "yeah, can’t wait to get glitter all over my hands again." she says jokingly. she waves as you turn to join wonbin and sohee, her gaze lingering on you a moment longer. "bye, y/n!"

"bye," you called back, lifting a hand in a half-wave.

you turn away, walking towards your friends, but couldn’t resist glancing over your shoulder one last time. danielle still stands there, watching you leave, and when she catches you looking, she flashes another quick grin, eyes crinkling and teeth showing. your heart does a flip against your chest.

wonbin nudges your shoulder when you reach them, smirking knowingly. "danielle marsh?" he questions as if it weren’t the obvious, drawing her name out teasingly. "what’s up with that?"

"nothing is up. get your head out the gutter," you mutter, shoving him lightly, but you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips. "we were just talking."

sohee snorts. "right. just talking. sure."

“we literally had a brief conversation, i hope you guys inhale water.”

they both laugh as you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. even as you head out with them, thoughts of buying a sandwich swirling around.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and danielle—that maybe, just maybe, your friendship was returning with ease.

—

the next week you’re with danielle again. this time she’s heading towards your car, getting in your car, sitting in the passengers seat in your car, and clicking her seatbelt in next to you.

“hey.” she greets, smiling.

“hi.” you respond nervously. you check the time, you’re very early but you’re not sure if you can even drive properly with the prettiest girl in the school next to you. “ready to go?”

“yup!”

“okay!” you respond with the same energy, making her giggle. you just made danielle marsh giggle. 

accompanied by you is the sound of music playing in the middle of the silence—a little too loudly—before you glance at her nervously. you apologize, but she shakes her head in your peripheral, putting her hand on the side of your upper arm as she does so. you clench your jaw, forcing a smile as you turn the corner.

she puts a hand over her stomach. “hey, can we stop by and grab a snack? there’s a little convenience store on the way there i always pass by.”

“yeah, of course.” 

you pull into the small convenience store’s parking lot, your heart still racing from the brief moment earlier when danielle had laughed at your overly energetic response. you had to focus on driving, but her presence beside you was making it impossible to think straight.

(you’re not that good at doing anything… straight….)

“i’ll be quick,” she says with a smile, unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out of the car.

“who said i’m not coming with?” you reply, “i’m not just gonna let you in by yourself.”

“wow,” she smirks, “what a gentle-lady.”

you follow her inside, letting her lead the way. it’s a cozy little store, shelves stocked with snacks, drinks, and everything in between. danielle heads straight to the snacks aisle while you find yourself wandering toward the drinks, hoping to calm your nerves. you scan the selection, pretending to be interested in a row of teas when you feel a sudden gaze on you.

turning slightly, you catch danielle staring at you from across the aisle. her eyes are soft, almost thoughtful, as if she’s studying every little movement you make. your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you freeze, unsure of what to do with yourself.

“uh—” you clear your throat, lifting a tea bottle. “this one any good?”

danielle blinks, snapping out of her thoughts, a shy smile spreading across her face. “oh, yeah! it’s really good. you should try it.”

you nod, trying to play it cool as you glance at the label, but you can still feel her gaze lingering on you. there’s something electric in the air between you two—unspoken, but undeniably there—something that wasn’t there before. 

—

the second time you and danielle help out at the elementary school, the day is warmer, and the kids are outside, running around with boundless energy. you’re supervising the chaos, but also playing along with the kids—throwing a frisbee, helping them climb the jungle gym, and laughing as they chase after you.

danielle stands nearby, watching with an amused smile. it’s been a short amount of time since the last time you volunteered together, and she realizes how much she’s missed your presence. she’s always known you were sweet, but seeing you like this—so good with the kids, laughing and having fun, so personally and naturally—makes something inside her chest tighten.

it had been a while since she’d last seen you, not including the first volunteer hours, but just in general since middle school. sure, you had that one class freshman year, and gym during sophomore year, but that wasn’t really much.

between your current classes and different social circles, the chances to bump into you had become rare. but the moment you stepped into the classroom that day, something in her stirred. she couldn’t help but notice how much you’d changed since the last time she saw you. she was able to observe you fully: taller, more confident, but still with that same sweetness in your eyes that had made her stomach flutter before the transition into high school. additionally, you looked good—better than she remembered—and that realization had her heart skipping a beat.

she tries to focus on her own task, playing hopscotch with a few of the younger kids, but her eyes keep drifting back to you. you’re crouching down to tie a little girl’s shoelaces, smiling up at her in that easy, charming way you do. danielle’s heart races as she thinks about how effortlessly kind you are, how even the small things you do make her feel warm inside.

as you finish helping the girl, you catch danielle’s gaze—not for the first time that day. your eyes meet, and for a split second, neither of you looks away. she quickly glances down, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. she can’t help but think how much you’ve changed since middle school—how you’ve grown into someone who’s not just good-looking but incredibly thoughtful, too.

you jog over to where she’s standing, slightly out of breath but grinning. “having fun?”

“yeah,” she replies, her voice a little softer than usual. “you seem like you’re having fun, too.”

“can’t help it,” you shrug, glancing at the kids. “they’re pretty contagious.”

danielle laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. the way you talk to her, so casually and effortlessly, makes her more nervous than she should be. you’ve always been easy to talk to, but now it feels different—like there’s something more beneath the surface.

as the afternoon goes on, the kids' energy only seems to increase. you end up sitting on the grass, surrounded by a group of them, laughing as one of the younger boys insists on “fixing” your hair. his tiny fingers tug gently at the strands, doing his best to style it into something creative—mostly a messy combination of pigtails. you wince occasionally, but you let him continue, his determination too adorable to resist. 

danielle watches from a few feet away, trying not to laugh too obviously. she’s been watching you all day, and she can’t help but feel charmed by how good-natured you are, even in moments like this. there’s something so endearing about the way you don’t take yourself too seriously, how you just go with the flow and let these kids have fun with you. she can’t help but sneak a picture, for… the memories of course.

“you look… really good,” she says, teasingly, as she approaches. 

you glance up, one eyebrow raised, trying to look at your reflection in the window nearby. “oh yeah? should i make this my new look?”

danielle grins, sitting down beside you. “i think it could be a trend. maybe you’ll make it on the cover of vogue.”

“right, 'styled by six-year-olds' is definitely going to get me scouted. maybe i’ll even be dressed head to toe in like… i don’t know— celine or something luxury.” you chuckle, letting the boy keep working on your hair. "i’ll give you credit for the idea when i get famous.”

danielle laughs, the sound light and soft, and her heart beats dangerously hard. you’re never trying too hard yet still manage to make people feel good just by being yourself. it’s been like this since middle school, but now, it feels more intense, like every small interaction with you is enough to make her stomach twist in turn—in the good way of course. 

“do you ever get tired of being everyone’s favorite?” she asks, playfully nudging you with her shoulder.

you blink, looking genuinely confused. “me? everyone’s favorite? what are you talking about?”

“you,” danielle says, smiling. “you’re so��� easy to like. look at these kids—they’re obsessed with you. i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone win over a bunch of first-graders that fast.”

you shrug, looking a little bashful. “they’re fun and young, that’s all.”

the kid working on your hair finishes and steps back to admire his masterpiece. “done!” he announces proudly.

danielle bursts into laughter when she sees the final result—your hair is sticking out in all directions, a combination of tiny pigtails and knots. you make a dramatic face, pulling a mock-serious expression. “so… how do i look?”

“like a work of art,” she teases, leaning closer to inspect the chaos. “mona lisa is jealous.”

you can’t help but laugh along with her, feeling the warmth of the moment. even though you’re clueless about how much she’s been thinking about you, about how every little thing you do makes her heart skip, the playful energy between you two is unmistakable. there’s something so natural about being with her like this, so comfortable. it feels right, just like how it was back then.

as the kids run off back toward the adults, you and danielle stay sitting side by side in the grass, the conversation flowing easily as she fixes your hair. it’s like no time has passed since middle school, but at the same time, there’s a new layer to your dynamic.

“you know, i always liked you a lot in middle school.” danielle says suddenly, accidentally pulling out a strand of your hair with the hairtie. you wince, but not at the feeling of your hair being pulled out. “sorry about that.”

“you liked me?”

“i mean, who wouldn’t?” danielle shrugs. “everyone wanted to be your friend, of course i wanted to be yours too!”

that kind of ‘like’---the platonic kind.

“oh,” you mumble, “right, thanks. i liked you a lot too, um, like, you know, as a friend.” you’re lying right in front of her face, well, kind of. 

you thought she was just someone sweet and gorgeous, a great friend for maybe two weeks max. she started getting more touchy and affectionate, throwing compliments and making your cheeks flush a little too much. all of it confused you at the ripe age of thirteen, and then the points connected: you had a crush on her.

the moment you realized you liked her was burned into your memory, a core memory that never left. it wasn’t some grand gesture, not some dramatic revelation. it was just the two of you, sitting under the sun after finishing fitness exams early, finding a quiet spot in the grass to relax. you remember her finding a tiny flower in the grass, something you hadn’t even noticed, and without hesitation, she tucked it behind your ear, smiling as she called you wonderful and sweet, like it was the easiest thing in the world—like it was true.

her eyes had lit up, like you were something to be admired, like you were a constellation that she’d stumbled upon. your heart raced in that moment, faster than it ever had during any of the laps you’d run earlier. she just smiled at you, oblivious to the storm she’d created inside of you, and that’s when it hit you: nothing was going to be the same again.

from that day on, thirteen-year-old you couldn’t stop crushing on danielle marsh. it became a constant, something that wove itself into your everyday life, even when you barely saw her. every stolen glance, every random smile she threw your way, things you were sure meant nothing to her, but they were everything to you.

years passed, and even though you both grew older, matured in so many ways, the feelings stayed the same. maybe you were still young, still figuring out your place in the world, but one thing you knew for sure—you were undeniably, hopelessly in love with danielle marsh, and you always would be as long as she existed anywhere near you.

“i know it’s a little late, but i hope we can be friends like that again.” danielle admits, breaking you out of your memory. “i can’t help being so enamored by the person you are now.”

“woah.” you accidentally say, turning away from her and laughing. “sorry, i just— that was really sweet it um, caught me off guard. thank you danielle.”

“you can call me dani, just like you used to.”

“okay.”

her eyes narrow just a bit as her head tilts. she’s hugging her knees to her chest and staring at you while the sun starts to shine golden rays. you blink a few times, tilting your head the same way, and then she smiles again out of nowhere.

“seems like they’re ready to clean up. we should help.”

“for sure.” you say quietly, not budging. “i’ll go when you go.”

danielle giggles, “alright.”

—

after your second day at the elementary school, you and danielle somehow ended up walking to class together. it wasn’t planned, not exactly, but after bumping into each other the next morning, the conversation flowed so naturally that it just made sense to keep talking as you both headed in the same direction. 

danielle walked beside you, glancing at you every now and then as you talked about anything and everything—how tiring the kids could be, your classes, random stuff like favorite snacks or the latest movie you wanted to see. you two were passing time, walking in loops around the first floor of the school since the bell would ring in fifteen minutes. every time you said something that made her laugh, her eyes sparkled just a little more, and it wasn’t lost on you how easy it felt to be around her. 

eventually, you reached her class as your time together shortened. you stopped and turned to face her, giving a small wave. “i’ll see you around?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“yeah, definitely,” she said, her cheeks flushing the slightest bit. she gave a little wave back, her smile soft and warm. “thanks for walking with me.”

“no problem,” you said, trying to play it cool despite how fast your heart was racing. you turned, heading off to your own class, but you couldn’t help glancing back once, catching her still watching you. 

what you didn’t see was danielle running into minji and hanni a few minutes later. the two of them were standing near the classroom and got there a few seconds after danielle, noticing immediately how flustered she seemed as they approached her at her desk.

“was that y/n you just waved goodbye to?” minji asked, her eyebrow raised. 

“yeah, we’ve been, uh, talking again. like friends! of course…” danielle said, her voice soft, a blush creeping up her neck as she tried to hide her smile.

hanni grinned, catching on instantly. “getting close again, huh?” she teased, nudging danielle’s arm playfully. 

danielle’s cheeks turned a little more pink, and she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “something like that,”

minji smirked. “you look way too happy about it.”

danielle looked down, biting her lip to stop from grinning. “it’s nothing,” she muttered, but even she couldn’t believe her own words.

because, really, it felt like everything.

—

later that day you head toward the locker room after a tiring swim practice. sohee is teasing you for messing up during a lap, and hyein continues to add on. you manage to shake sohee off after splitting ways, but hyein is still poking at you.

you shower quickly, dry yourself, and change into your usual hoodie and sweats before waving to your teammates who aren’t done packing up.

once you open the door, you immediately catch danielle leaning against the wall. she looks up as soon as you step out, her features lighting up.

“hey!” she greets.

“hi.” you respond as you walk up to her. “waiting for hyein?”

“um, yeah.” danielle is lying again, this can’t be a good habit. maybe it lying isn’t so bad if it’s to see someone as wonderful as you, danielle thinks. “how was practice?”

“i was kinda slow today, but it was fun.” you sigh, “how has your day been?”

“tiring as well,” she huffs. “but i’m really caught up with schoolwork and the student council meeting was really short.”

“that’s lovely.” you catch sohee and wonbin in the corner of your eye and purse your lips. “those idiots,” your eyes turn towards them and danielle briefly glances at the idiots in question, “are hungry. they’re like vacuums… i swear.”

“i understand, my friends are like that too.” danielle snickers, directing her attention back to you. “hey, i was also wondering if you’d um, like to walk together in the morning? like we can walk or you can eat breakfast. it doesn’t matter. i’m just saying i’d like to be with you tomorrow morning.”

you freeze, parting your mouth to say something, but everything is caught up in your throat.

your brain stops functioning for a moment as you try to process quite literally everything. you manage to respond a few seconds later, “yes!” the eagerness makes you cringe, you cough. “yes, i mean. i’d also like to be with you! u-uhm, in the morning, obviously. yeah. we can do whatever you’d like, just say the words and i’m uh, i’m down.”

her lips turn up and you swear the universe just slapped you in the face. “great,” she says, “i’ll see you tomorrow. you should go feed your friends.”

“yeah, they… eat—a lot. sorry, yeah, i’ll get going. see you!”

“see you y/n!” she waves, and you wave back, walking towards two idiots trying to hold laughter and snarky remarks.

—

you’re helping out the kids as they all tend to their artwork. this time everyone has watercolor, which is a little less messy than your first rodeo at the school. you sit at the table with five children, all of them eager to earn criticism and compliments from their work.

“y/n! y/n! how do you like mine? it’s good right? do you like it?” one girl says, holding up the paper to your face with her little hands.

you chuckle, moving back a bit to get a better view of the work. it’s (what you assume) a scene from the country side; different shades of green line the bottom of the page to imitate grass, and there are different colored flowers peeking out getting shined on by the sun from above.

“it’s gorgeous annie.” you assure, “but i think those flowers are a little lonely without bees.”

the girl brings her paper back and turns it around to inspect. she squints her eyes, biting her lip before nearly slamming it on the ground and beginning to color again. “you’re right! i should’ve done that… also piggies and cows and… the flowers need friends.”

“you’re very creative, i love it!” you beam, patting her shoulder. she turns and smiles at you.

danielle’s palm holds her chin as she watches the interaction from a table away, grinning without knowing. her smile only grows when you give suggestions to another kid, and then she’s breaking away after a child tugs at her hair subtly.

“miss danielle, why are you staring at y/n so much?” the boy asks shyly. 

“o-oh.” danielle’s cheeks start to tingle with heat. “sorry, did you want me to check your work out?”

“why are you staring at y/n?” he asks again, tilting his head at her. 

“it’s nothing, really. i was just um… daydreaming.”

“about y/n?” kids are getting clever these days, though thankfully they lack the snarkiness. “is that why you’re staring at her?”

“um, no.” um, yes. danielle is lying to a child. “i just, she’s– she happens to be in my vision. um, let’s see your artwork!”

the kid shrugs, pushing the paper over to danielle who is in awe of how well done it is. this kid isn’t just smart, he’s remarkably talented too. 

now it’s your turn to look over at danielle, who’s tending to kids. you admire her for a bit, a small smile creeping up to your lips before you return to your own tasks.

—

the three of them—hanni, minji, and danielle—were huddled on the floor of minji’s room, surrounded by blankets and snacks. they’d been talking about everything and nothing for the past hour, the usual mix of gossip, random stories, and playful teasing filling the room as they have their monthly sleepover.

but as the conversation died down, danielle found her mind wandering back to the past few days—the past month—specifically to you. it had been happening more and more lately. volunteering with you at the elementary school had brought back feelings she thought she’d outgrown, but being around you so often was starting to get to her. all the walks to class were getting to her, the shared glances and grins, really just the awareness of you existing was making her think hard.

“are you okay, dani?” hanni asked, noticing the way danielle had fallen quiet, her face a little red.

minji narrowed her eyes playfully. “yeah, you’ve been acting weird all night. what’s going on?”

danielle sat up straighter, nervously picking at the hem of her oversized sweater. “um… okay, i’m probably just overthinking this, but—” she hesitated, biting her lip before blurting out, “i think i still like y/n.”

both hanni and minji exchanged looks, and then hanni grinned. “still? dani, i didn’t even know you ever stopped.”

“you never stopped,” minji added with a teasing smirk. “you’re just aware of it now because you two interact. i still remember how often you’d mention her back then when we were underclassmen. it wasn’t much, but i thought you always had eyes for her.”

“ugh.” danielle groaned, covering her face with her hands. “but like, it’s different now. we’ve been spending time together at the volunteering thing, even after that, and—” she paused, her voice softening, “she’s just so… sweet. and cute. like, even when she’s not trying, she’s just… ugh, i don’t know.”

hanni grinned, sitting up and leaning toward her. “oh my god, are you gushing?”

danielle peeked out from behind her hands, her face red. “no,” she muttered, but even she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “okay, maybe a little. yeah.”

“what’s she been doing that’s got you all flustered?” minji asked, genuinely curious now.

danielle sighed, her heart racing just thinking about it. “it’s like… little things, you know? like, she always makes sure i’m okay when we’re with the kids, and she’s so patient with them. and then there was this one time where a kid was playing with her hair, trying to style it, and she just let them do whatever they wanted without even complaining.” danielle laughed softly. “she just looked so cute and clueless, and i couldn’t stop staring. and she’s so, so sweet. she walks me to class and asks how i’m doing and we do gas station runs before or after volunteering and she’s so… crush worthy. i don’t know!”

hanni and minji exchanged knowing looks again.

“and like, we’ve barely talked since middle school, but now it’s like… i don’t know. it feels like nothing’s changed, but everything has? i just—” danielle paused, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “i’m starting to realize how much i like her again. we grew up kind of distant and it feels like there’s so much more to her that has me falling deeper than i ever had.”

minji smiled softly. “sounds like you’ve got it bad, dani.”

danielle groaned, lying back on the floor and covering her face again. “why is this happening?”

hanni laughed, poking her side. “because y/n’s cute, and you can’t handle it.”

“exactly,” minji agreed, her teasing grin in full force.

danielle sighed, letting her friends’ teasing wash over her as she tried to calm her racing heart. it was hopeless. she’d never stopped liking you, and now that you were back in her life, it was like everything was coming back all at once.

“what do i even do?” danielle muttered, staring up at the ceiling.

hanni grinned, nudging her. “easy. tell her.”

danielle blushed harder, shaking her head. “no way. i’ll just… i’ll wait.”

minji snorted. “yeah, good luck with that.”

—

that same night, you’re playing basketball with sohee at the court near your houses. sohee moved across the street from you right before high school started, and ever since that you two have been best friends. he’s someone you trust and love with your whole heart, but simultaneously a leech stuck to your side.

the night was cool, the court illuminated by the soft, dim glow of the overhead lights. you and sohee had been at it for a while, your usual one-on-one basketball game to unwind. except tonight, something was off. sohee was easily scoring on you, his movements quick and smooth while yours were sluggish and distracted. you missed shots you’d normally make without a second thought, and every time you tried to focus, your mind drifted back to danielle.

“y/n,” sohee called, catching the ball after your latest missed shot. “what is going on with you? you’re way off.”

you wiped the sweat from your brow, feeling the frustration rising. “nothing, i’m just… tired,” you muttered, but even you didn’t believe that excuse. sohee didn’t either.

he dribbled the ball lazily, walking toward you. “tired? no way. you’ve been off this whole game. i’ve scored more points in the last ten minutes than i usually do in an hour.” he nudged your shoulder with his elbow, his eyes narrowing playfully. “what’s going on?”

you hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek. it wasn’t like you to talk about stuff like this, especially with sohee, but the thoughts swirling around your head were starting to get overwhelming. you couldn’t deny it anymore.

with a sigh, you sat down on the edge of the court, sohee plopping down beside you. “it’s… danielle,” you finally admitted, your voice quieter than you intended.

sohee blinked, raising an eyebrow. “danielle?” he repeated, leaning back on his hands. “okay… go on.”

 you put your head in your hands, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “i don’t know. like, we’ve been hanging out more because of the volunteering stuff, and… i don’t know. i can’t stop thinking about her. like, at all. and it’s messing me up. before it was just a small, lingering crush. it’s so, so bad now.”

sohee’s expression softened, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “so you’ve been crushing on her hard, huh?”

you groaned, leaning your head back and staring up at the night sky. “yeah, i guess you could say that.” it felt like an understatement—it was an understatement. “but it’s more than that. i feel like… every time we’re together, i’m losing my mind. like, i don’t know what to do with myself. i’m always trying to act normal, but she’s so sweet and adorable and cute and i—” you stopped yourself, feeling embarrassed by how much you were rambling. “jesus, i sound like an idiot. don’t look at me—it’s bad.”

sohee chuckled, shaking his head. “honestly, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like she probably likes you too.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you shook your head. “no way. she’s just… being nice. that’s how she is.”

“nah,” sohee stood up, tossing the ball back and forth between his hands. “you don’t see it, but i’ve seen you guys together. and besides, people don’t just act like that for no reason. the way you described her, she’s gotta be into you.”

you raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “you think?”

sohee shrugged. “i mean, you won’t know until you ask her. but from where i’m standing, she’s been giving you all the signs. you are the only one who doesn’t catch her smiling at you, even looking at you. she has to be losing it just as much.”

you sat there for a moment, letting his words sink in. maybe he was right. maybe danielle did like you, but it was hard to believe, especially when you felt so off balance around her. still, the idea of it made your heart race in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“you’re overthinking it,” sohee said, tossing the ball to you. “just… be yourself. she clearly likes who you are, whether you realize it or not.”

you caught the ball, your grip tightening around it as you glanced at him. “and if you’re wrong?”

he laughed, shrugging. “then you’ll live, you always make it. but honestly, i don’t think i am.”

you exhaled slowly, standing up and bouncing the ball a couple of times. “yeah, maybe.”

sohee grinned, motioning for you to start the game again. “come on, let’s finish this. i’m not letting you off easy just because you want marsh.”

you laughed, feeling a little lighter as you dribbled the ball and faced him. “i’m gonna beat your ass—maybe stick to swimming.”

—

the next time you and danielle volunteer at the elementary school, the kids are in full creative mode, diving headfirst into arts and crafts. you watch as their tiny hands work with paper, markers, and glue sticks, their faces lit up with excitement. you and danielle sit side by side at a low table, helping them cut shapes and fold paper, but soon enough, the kids start getting ideas of their own.

"we’re gonna make you guys princesses!" one of the little girls announces with a grin, holding up some colored paper.

"yeah, princesses need crowns," another chimes in, already working on what looks like a very lopsided paper tiara.

danielle laughs softly, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "oh, wow. we’re honored, huh?" she says, glancing at you, her smile wide but a little flustered.

you nod, trying to play it cool even though the idea of you both as ‘princesses’ is making your head spin. "i guess we’re royalty for the day."

soon enough, you and danielle each have paper crowns placed carefully on your heads, the kids squealing in delight at their creations. you catch a glimpse of danielle out of the corner of your eye, and even though the crown is crooked and made of construction paper, she looks... perfect. she always does. she looks even better than any princess from the movies.

"okay, now you need to get married!" one of the boys shouts, bouncing on his feet as he holds out paper rings he made from scraps of old coloring sheets.

both you and danielle freeze for a second, the word ‘married’ hanging in the air like it’s some forbidden territory. you and danielle: married. but the kids don’t give you much time to process because suddenly, two of them grab your hands, pulling you up from your seats.

"come on! princesses have to get married!" they insist, giggling wildly.

danielle glances at you, her eyes wide, but she’s smiling, clearly trying to suppress how flustered she is. "uh, i guess we don’t really have a choice here," she says softly, her voice slightly shaky but still playful.

"nope, none at all," you respond, trying to sound as casual as possible, even though your heart is practically beating out of your chest. you reach out and take the paper ring they offer, pretending it’s all part of the fun as you slip it onto danielle’s finger. “but i don’t mind you as the princess.” you whisper.

danielle’s cheeks flush as she does the same, her fingers lightly brushing against yours as she slides the paper ring onto your hand. for a second, the whole room seems to blur, and it’s just the two of you standing there, awkwardly exchanging paper rings with a bunch of kids cheering you on.

"you may now... be married!" one of the kids declares, causing an eruption of giggles all around you.

you and danielle exchange a quick look, both of you clearly trying not to burst into laughter, but also kind of… lost in the moment. her smile is soft and shy, and you can’t help but feel the warmth spreading through your chest like always.

"well, that was... something," danielle murmurs, her voice quieter as she glances down at the ring now wrapped around your finger.

"yeah," you manage to say, your own voice barely steady. "guess we’re officially paper royalty now."

“i suppose so ‘your highness.’”

both of you laugh, but it’s the kind of laughter that lingers—nervous, sweet, and a little unsure of what it all means. you sit back down, the kids going off to make more crafts, but the paper rings stay on your fingers. neither of you make a move to take them off, both pretending like everything is fine, even though the butterflies in your stomach are telling you otherwise.

—

it was a typical friday after swim practice. you were tired but in a good mood, feeling the pleasant ache in your muscles as you pulled your hoodie over your head and adjusted your sweatpants. as you walked out of the locker room, your hair still damp, you see danielle waiting outside, leaning against the wall with her phone in her hand.

she looked up when you stepped out, and the smile that spread across her face was like a breath of fresh air. “hey,” she greeted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

you smiled back. “hey. waiting for hyein?” it was your automatic assumption since danielle usually hung out with her after school, and you were trying to play it cool, despite the sudden spike in your pulse.

danielle shook her head, biting her lip as if she was a little nervous. “no, actually. i was wondering… if you wanted to grab a bite with me? i mean, if you're free? if you’re going to grab dinner with sohee and wonbin though—i understand.”

for a second, you just stared at her, completely thrown off. danielle marsh, standing there, casually asking you to hang out. it felt surreal. she was looking at you expectantly, her eyes bright and hopeful, and it took everything in you to not freeze up completely.

“just us?”

“who else would be coming? i wanted to… spend time with you.” danielle fidgets with her fingers.

“uh, yeah, sure!” you finally managed to respond, hoping you didn’t sound too eager, but internally you were freaking out.

from the corner of your eye, you spotted sohee and wonbin leaning against the vending machine nearby, watching the whole thing unfold. sohee gave you a sly smirk, while wonbin raised his eyebrows in playful encouragement, clearly trying to get you to go along with it. they didn’t say a word, but their teasing looks were enough.

you ignored them, focusing back on danielle, who was smiling wider now that you’d agreed. “great!” she said, looking genuinely happy. “there’s this place nearby that makes really good sandwiches. hyein loves to eat there after practice.”

“sounds perfect,” you replied, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face as the two of you made your way toward the parking lot.

as you walked side by side, you couldn't help but sneak glances at her, wondering how the universe had aligned for this to happen. danielle, who had been so distant for years, was suddenly in your life again, and now you were about to grab sandwiches together.

you reached your car, and as danielle slid into the passenger seat, you tried to act normal. after all, this ins’t the first time danielle has been in your car. she clicked her seatbelt and looked over at you with a soft expression, and for a moment, everything felt easy.

you turned on the engine, glancing at her with a smile of your own. “let’s go get those sandwiches.”

—

you noticed one of the kids, a little boy named max, slumped over at his desk, his tiny hand still clutching a crayon while his head rested on his arm. he was fast asleep, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to him. you smiled to yourself, gently lifting the crayon from his hand and setting it down before carefully scooping him up in your arms.

max stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his small body curling into you instinctively. you carried him across the room, making sure your steps were light and quiet, and set him down gently on a blanket in the corner. once you made sure he was comfortable, you knelt beside him, adjusting the blanket around him so he wouldn’t get cold.

as you stood up, brushing off your hands, you felt a pair of eyes on you. turning around, you caught danielle watching the whole scene, her gaze soft and warm. before you could say anything, she spoke, her voice quiet but filled with admiration.

"you're really sweet, you know that?" she said, almost like the words slipped out without her meaning to.

your face heated up instantly, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks. you rubbed the back of your neck, trying to play it off. "thank you," you mumbled, avoiding her gaze because the way she was looking at you made your heart race even more.

but danielle wasn’t letting it go that easily. she smiled at you, that same smile that always made your insides twist in the best way. "no, i mean it. you’re just... really good with them. it’s nice to see. you’re so sweet and so like, cute. sorry."

you blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. "uh, thanks. i just... i don’t know." you tried to brush it off again, but you could feel her eyes still on you, and it made you flustered beyond words.

danielle tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks a little pink now too. she quickly looked away, biting her lip like she couldn’t believe she’d just said that, and you swore you saw the smallest hint of nervousness in her expression.

you both stood there for a second in the quiet classroom, neither of you sure what to say next. but something unspoken passed between you, something warm and sweet, and even though neither of you acknowledged it out loud, it hung in the air like a gentle breeze.

maybe she didn’t just see you as a friend after all.

—

after leaving the elementary school, you and danielle decided to grab some smoothies, neither of you really wanting the day to end just yet. after picking up your drinks, you drove to a nearby park, parking in a spot that had a perfect view of the sunset. the sky was painted with soft pinks and oranges, fading into a deep blue as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

sitting side by side in the car, both of you sipped on your smoothies, the air between you comfortable yet charged with something unspoken. danielle was flipping through her phone, looking for something to watch, and eventually settled on a short movie you both had heard about. you propped your phone up on the dashboard, the two of you leaning back in your seats, the glow from the screen illuminating your faces.

the movie played on, but your mind wasn’t completely on it. not really. it was hard to focus when danielle was sitting so close, her laugh quiet but making your heart race every time. you could feel the warmth of her next to you, and each little shift she made only reminded you of how much you liked her.

as the movie reached its peak, the two characters on screen began to confess their feelings for each other. it was a sweet, heartwarming moment, and as you watched, you couldn’t help but feel the growing urge to say something. the way they looked at each other, the vulnerability, the raw emotion—everything felt so familiar.

you glanced over at danielle, who was also watching the scene intently. her hand rested on her lap, fingers lightly tapping to some rhythm only she could hear. your heart pounded in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth to speak, but then—

“i like you.”

the words tumbled out at the exact same time. both of you froze, eyes wide as you turned to face each other. danielle’s hand smacks over her mouth at the same tiem as you. for a second, it was like the world had stopped, the air between you electric, charged with a mix of surprise and relief. 

danielle’s eyes blinked in shock, and then she laughed softly, her cheeks turning pink as she ducked her head slightly. "what? you, you like me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, feeling equally flustered but relieved. you turn toward your wheel and put your hands over your face as you lean against it. “yeah,” you mumble against your skin. 

there was a beat of silence, the tension dissolving into something lighter, something sweet. you both smiled at each other, the nervousness fading as the reality of the moment settled in.

"i thought it was just me," she admitted shyly.

"same," you replied, grinning despite the butterflies in your stomach. "but... i'm glad i wasn’t." you lean back in your seat, unable to look at her.

danielle let out a little laugh, and for a moment, everything felt right. you weren’t just friends anymore, not after this. and as the last light of the sunset faded, the two of you sat there in the quiet of the car, your hands slowly finding each other in the space between you. it felt like something had shifted—something you’d both been waiting for.

she looks at you, her eyes still wide, her smile soft but curious. "how long?" she asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. the question hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of it.

you swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your face. "uh... since middle school," you admitted, glancing down at your hands nervously. "it was after we finished the fitness testing... remember? you put a flower in my hair while i was sweaty and tired and gross."

danielle’s eyes lit up with recognition, a soft giggle escaping her lips. "wait, really? you liked me then?" she asked, her smile growing as she leaned in a little closer, clearly caught up in the moment. 

"yeah," you nodded, feeling the giddiness rise in your chest. "i remember being so embarrassed because i thought i looked terrible, but you just smiled at me like... like it didn’t matter."

danielle blushed deeply, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled. "oh my god, i didn’t know! and now i feel even worse because... i’ve liked you since middle school too."

your heart nearly stopped at her words, your eyes widening in surprise. "wait, what? since when?"

"remember that science project we did together?" danielle asked, her cheeks still flushed. "you finished most of it because i was sick for half the week... and you didn’t complain once. you just did it and made sure i didn’t feel bad about it. you even emailed me to drink water and take care of myself. how could i not like you."

“oh"

"yeah," danielle smiled, a little shy now. "i think that’s when i realized you were really special."

both of you were blushing now, giggling nervously in between your confessions, like you couldn’t quite believe what was happening. it was surreal, this moment you’d both been unknowingly waiting for since you were kids. and now here you were, sitting in your car, finally on the same page after all these years.

"i can’t believe we’ve both been... waiting this long," you said, still grinning like an idiot. you smack your forehead with your palm.

"me neither," danielle agreed, her voice soft as her gaze lingered on yours. her smile grew, her eyes sparkling with that familiar light you’d always admired. "but i’m really glad we know now."

"yeah," you whispered, feeling your heart swell as you looked at her. "me too."

silence settled between you two after the giddy confessions, but it wasn’t awkward. it felt... comfortable. like a new kind of peace, where everything was finally out in the open. danielle fiddled with her smoothie cup, glancing at you every now and then with a soft smile, while you kept sneaking looks at her as you drove, your heart doing little flips each time you caught her eyes.

the drive to her house felt shorter than usual, and before you knew it, you were pulling up in front of her place. you turned the engine off, the soft hum of the car dying down as you both sat in the lingering quiet. you wanted to say something, anything to keep her here just a little longer, but your mind was blank—except for the thought of how much you didn’t want this moment to end.

danielle turned to you, her eyes warm and sparkling under the dim glow of the streetlight. "thanks for today," she said quietly, her voice gentle, but there was something more behind it, something unspoken that hung between you.

you felt your heart race again. "no problem, anytime."

danielle looks like she wants to say something. she looks at you with an uncertain expression, biting her lip to hold back something.

“i want to kiss you so bad right now danielle.” you admit quickly, almost out of breath. “you look so cute right now i kind of want to get run over because of how adorable you look. like, oh my god.”

“no, yeah, i feel the same. can we— can i kiss you? oh my god, i’ve never done this before.”

you giggle, “me neither.”

there was a brief pause, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in—just slightly. it was almost instinctual, like the air between you both had been pulling you closer this entire time. danielle noticed, her breath hitching softly as her eyes flickered to your lips, and in the next heartbeat, she closed the distance.

the kiss was soft, tentative—both of you so nervous, yet so eager. her lips were warm and gentle against yours. danielle’s hand slid into your hair, ruffling it up a bit more and sending shivers down your spine. you couldn’t help but melt into her touch. your own hands trembled as you cupped her cheek, everything feeling new and exciting, yet strangely right.

when you finally pulled apart, both of you were blushing so hard, it was almost embarrassing. you could barely look at each other without grinning like idiots, your hearts pounding in unison. danielle let out a soft laugh, her cheeks bright pink as she quickly glanced at the door.

"um... i’ll—i’ll see you tomorrow?" she stammered, clearly flustered, but there was a giddy, breathless smile on her face that made your own heart stutter.

"yeah, tomorrow," you managed to say, your voice shaky from the rush of emotions. you were still trying to process what had just happened, your lips tingling from the kiss as you watched her open the door to leave. “one more?”

danielle laughs, then gives you a brief kiss before pulling away and avoiding your gaze from nervousness.

she waves a quick goodbye before disappearing into her house, but not without one last smile that made your heart swell all over again. you sat there for a moment longer, your face burning as you replayed everything in your head. the kiss, the confession, her soft touch—it all felt like a dream, one you were still floating in.

and for a moment, all the nerves, all the unspoken feelings—everything just melted away, leaving behind a feel of tranquility between you both. you weren’t just two people holding onto a crush anymore. you were finally something more, and it felt like everything had just fallen perfectly into place.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Wrtites Episode 149: Father's Day Special

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

Ao3!

CWs: noncon; knotting; violence; incest; impregnation threats; age gap; transformation; 

A/N: This one got away from me, hope you enjoy another episode on the darker end of the series

################################

You’ll never forget when they came. That fateful full moon the Rotwald pack caught your village unawares. They carved through your tiny community, despite the best efforts of the watch. You remember it as though it were yesterday, the steel in your father’s eye as he told you to run, not to turn back until dawn, not for anything or anyone, before he picked up his billhook and joined the fray. You ran through the night, as fast as your short legs would carry you, away from the flames and blood and screams. When dawn finally broke, fresh and rosy-fingered in the East you returned to your home to find it burned. Bodies littered the once lively streets and thoroughfares, smoking ruins where houses once stood, clerics picking through the ash, counting the dead.

So you became a hunter. In service of the church you trained with blades, whips, nets and flanged maces. You learned to trap beasts, which signs would turn which fiends, what to do if taken unawares, and how to make sure that didn’t happen. You became hardened to the terror of the monsters of the night. You didn’t fear them any more. Fear had been replaced in your heart with a deep, broiling hatred for the creatures that skulked and hunted the faithful. You were a tool of retribution. Every flash of your blade, every crack of your whip, every silver-tipped crossbow bolt imbued with the fury of the angels above.

You graduated at the top of your class. The trainers referred to you as a once in a generation hunter, that one day you may rise to lead the lodge. You had the pick of your assignments, whichever prey you wanted to take down, it was yours. You knew exactly which you wanted. You were going home.

The ride from the capital to the outlying hinterlands was long, but uneventful. The common people were deferential to hunters, often you would eat and board for free at taverns and roadside inns. Even when you were forced to camp on the road, roving bandits and vampires knew better than to approach your tent, marked as it was with the symbols of the hunting lodge. Drawing the ire of a hunter who’s not after you was a bad idea; even if you won you’d have a target on your back, and the odds weren’t in your favour.

After almost a month’s travel you got to the forest. Rotwald, so named for the seemingly permanent autumnal hue of the leaves. Everyone had a different explanation for it. Maybe a witch tried to curse the forest but was stopped before she got all the way through. Maybe there was an ancient battle that happened here and stained the earth. Maybe it was mundane, just something in the soil. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. Somewhere in that woods was a pack of werewolves. Vicious monsters, one and all. Monsters you were sworn to end.

You had two days left until the full moon, when the pack would go marauding again. You sent your horse away. It would be there for you when it came time to return, but as it was it would be easy pickings for the lycanthropes in the woods. Hefting your pack, checking your weapons, you set to work.

Traps went down, baited with red meat. Vicious metal jaws hidden in the undergrowth, tripwires strung between trees, wards poised to send spears of holy light through any beasts that stray too close. You spent the two days setting a perimeter around the forest, using disturbed brush and trampled undergrowth to track the pack’s movements, finding where they’d been, making note of where they were expected to be.

At dusk, you lay the finishing touch. A steel-tipped bolt flung from your crossbow, straight through the heart of a buck. It was dead in moments, but not before its vital essence was spread across a good area. You could smell it from the tree in which you lurked. If you could smell it, then the wolves certainly could. You just had to hope their hunger outstripped their cautiousness. Some nights, that’d be a tossup, but the blood runs hot under a full moon. If they were ever going to take the bait, they’d take it tonight.

The howls in the air told you you were right. The wolves followed the scent trails you’d marked, snaking through your traps to the dead buck, slowly cooling on the forest floor. They weren’t any the wiser as they dug the bolt out of it, the steel making it look like a poorly-timed shot from a poacher who’d stayed out late. You watched patiently as they tore the beast apart, bathing themselves in blood and viscera. The smell was overpowering now. You couldn’t even smell the trees any more, only gore. It didn’t matter which way the wind blew for the next few minutes, as long as you were quiet, they’d never spot you until too late.

You levelled your crossbow at the first one, loosing a shot. A perfect hit. You scrambled to reposition before they spotted their packmate had gone down to a silvered point, right between the eyes. You’d nailed another in the heart before the other four realised something was wrong, starting to fan out, searching for their assailant.

You’d separated them. Perfect.

Your third mark stepped into a snare, the wire closing about his ankle. Your sword finished him before he could make a sound. A deadly arc of silver slashing his throat below the voicebox. His last cry was a gurgling rattle, a stunted howl from a ruined throat.

You took the fourth from above, dropping a barbed net onto him from above before crashing down onto the struggling form, silver hooks burning where they cut into him, stopping him from throwing the net off. A spear between the ribs saw him fall, then another to the heart finished the job. Two left.

You didn’t see the fifth until he was already finished. A flash of light told you a ward had triggered. The spell unleashed its pent-up fury and power into the monster. By the time you’d arrived to check your work, it was nothing more than a pile of smouldering fur and bones. You nodded, quick and effective, like any trap should be. Now for the last one.

You were on the edge of your perimeter now. Out there was open forest, no traps, no preparations, only your wits and weapons against a vicious maneater, more than capable of rending you limb from bloodied limb. You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your pack. Carrying only your crossbow and sword, you stepped into the moonlit forest ahead of you. You’d sparred against defanged vampires, you’re more than capable of taking down an animal driven by hunger and fear.

He wasn’t trying to cover his tracks. A corridor of trampled loam led you deeper into the forest. You kept your wits about you as you stalked him, soundless, watching your back. Then the track ended. You frowned, looking around. He hadn’t doubled back, there weren’t any signs of him taking another route.

You raised your blade, wheeling around to parry the claw crashing down on you. The silver left an angry gash on his arm as the sword spun from your grip. Too close to shoulder your crossbow you fired from the hip. The bolt thudded into his leg. He howled in pain, smacking you across the face. You slammed into a tree, disorientated.

He bore down on you, swiping and lunging. You dodged and wove, ducking between trees and under branches, going for your traps, trying to lead him back to where you’d killed the rest.

Easier said than done. Every duck, every dive you risked losing your bearings. You’d let yourself overextend, getting too confident.

You dodged too late. A swipe caught you in the chest. The wolf pinned you to a tree, a thin shaft of light illuminating your face. The beast had you, rearing back finish the job.

Moments passed. The beast’s claw hung in the air. Something had changed in its face.

“I told you to run”

You blinked. It couldn’t be. He died with the rest. With everyone else in the village.

“You came back” under the snarl was the voice you recognised. Your father’s voice

His gaze softened for a moment, before it returned to the animal snarl. He dropped you, before falling on top of you, pinning you to the forest floor

“Looks like I need to teach you properly”

His clawed hands shredded your armour like damp parchment, sending rags flying as he disrobed you.

You tried to scurry back, unable to move under his bulk, clawed hands pinning you to the ground

“I’m going to punish you, then I’m going to turn you, then we’ll rebuild the pack you just slaughtered”

You felt him against your bare crotch. His sheath butted up against your virgin hole, the tip pressing into you a little harder with every rutting thrust. You started to chant, to call upon the angels for protection, to channel magic, to do anything you could.

A great hand closed around your mouth, silencing your prayers. You screamed into it, your throat turning raw as the cock threatened to enter you. Your legs struck out, hobnail boots thudding into him. He ignored your struggling. You wished you boots were silvered too, then he’d have something to think about. Instead he just carried on, watery precum covering your ass, lubricating you.

You cried when it went in. Tears rolled down your cheeks, shaken by the remorseless thrusting. Your hands still slapped pitifully against his arms, fingers gouging at his eyes, fingernails raking his skin. He barely reacted at all. The rhythm sped up, the thrusting getting harder and faster. You felt the knot slapping your entrance. You begged him not to. Begged him to stop. For it to just end.

He ignored you. You felt like you were going to tear in half. The knot entered you, swelling a little against your insides. Your sobbed silently as he howled. He filled you. Pump after pump flowed into you. You just lay there, limp, exhausted, blank eyes staring at the sky. This was it, everything you’d trained for. Everything you swore to yourself to destroy. You were about to become one.

A warmth flowed through you. Not the bestial heat coming from your father. Something new. Something familiar. You heard something. Singing. It was quiet at first, a chorus of voices in the back of your mind. You thought you were going mad, but as the singing got louder, you felt yourself grow stronger. Strength returned to your body, one hundred-fold.

You wished your father off you.

A flash of light

A crunch of wood

You rose to your feet, looking down at the werewolf before you, scrambling to all fours, snarling.

You rose higher. The forest blazed with light. Your light. Wings spread from your back, golden light streaming from them. A halo shone about your head. You held up your hand, a spear forming from filigree at your command.

You threw your weapon. Your father died on the spot.

You never returned to the lodge. Your fellow hunters never searched for you, they didn’t need to. Word spread far and wide, the Rotwald was protected, and under your gaze the creatures of the night never again flourished there

[pupyuj]

→ “ruin our friendship.” || kim gaeul x reader fic.

— for years, gaeul has trusted your heart and tried to find whatever good you saw in your douchebag of a boyfriend, but she has had enough. and now she wants to show you that you deserve so much better...

word count: 6.9k.

dynamic: dom!kim gaeul x sub!taken!reader.

warnings: bffs-to-lovers, cheating, oral, fingering, cunnilingus, facesitting, faceriding, overstimulation, masturbation, praise kink.

requested ? : nope.

a/n: i don't even know how long this has been rotting in my drafts but SHE IS FINALLY FREE! and we have our first gaeul fic AND I HAVE OFFICIALLY WRITTEN A FIC FOR EVERY IVE MEMBER EYAYYYY 🥰💖 now i don't have to worry about possibly looking like i favor one member more than the others omg guys i can assure you i have thoughts about ive unnies all the time, the ones for yujin are just loud as FUCK. much like herself. ANYWAYS, HEHE I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS and i hope you all love it 💕

p.s. as usual this is not proofread thoroughly so apologies in advance for any mistakes! 😭💞

ever since entering college, you and your best friend gaeul have had to match your schedules perfectly in order to hang out and even talk regularly. those assignments couldn’t finish themselves after all, as much as you hoped they did. years before, you and her would have the time of your lives shopping and visiting the many different restaurants your vast city offered, but now, everything was different. and in gaeul’s most humble opinion, your busy lives as college students wasn’t the only problem. she could name a few actually! there was her part-time job at her mechanic father’s service shop where she spends most of her time sitting on a chair and listening to middle-aged men try to woo her as they wait for their car to get fixed, and there was your side gig as some small-time coordinator in a pretty popular live house in the downtown part of the city.

but gaeul can’t exactly be angry at your jobs for pulling the two of you away from each other! what she can be angry about was you were always distracted whenever you did go out together. here’s a clear picture: you would be sitting with her in a cute coffee shop after two weeks of not being able to see each other and there gaeul is, talking about the shenanigans that happens in her classes, her dad’s shop, and her life in general. then, she’d find you spacing out, or staring at your phone—just completely ignoring her. for the first few times it happened, gaeul just thought that perhaps you were just worried about your schoolwork!

it made sense after all. you were some kind of academic overachiever that always used to nag at gaeul to finish her geometry homework during your high school days. gaeul was going to be fine with it all; she even thought about things she could tell you to soothe your head but one little peek at your phone screen ruined it all. every ounce of patience in gaeul just disappeared into thin air once she saw that you were distressed because of your stupid boyfriend’s messages.

ugh. your boyfriend.

now, gaeul wasn’t one to shit on her best friend’s lovers just because, okay? ninety-three percent of the time she has a valid reason! here’s the breakdown: your boyfriend is manipulative, abusive, possessive, and ugly. one would say that maybe he wasn’t always that way, or that maybe he’s struggling with things! well, gaeul can confirm that he has always been horrible to you and that whatever the fuck he’s dealing with doesn’t give him the excuse to be such an asshole to someone that genuinely cares for him. gaeul can’t even count how many times you’ve showed up at her doorstep in tears because of him. 

she really can’t understand why you’re still dating him. it’s been about five years since the two of you got together and really, the only good thing you got from that relationship is a ride to the campus and if you’re lucky and he actually feels like being a decent boyfriend for once, some fancy clothes. clothes that he picks out for you, and he can’t even get that shit right! he doesn’t know your style, the kind of clothes you want to wear, the brands you’ve always wanted to get clothes from, and in general, you. gaeul knows people like him all too well. people that only want you to fill a very specific void in their miserable life.

gaeul can’t stand him. you deserve so much better, you can do so much better.

and gaeul is better.

just like that, an idea pops up in gaeul’s head as she sits in a booth in her favorite diner, but she didn’t have time to think about it because she looks out the window and there you were in a pretty, pink sundress with your hair arranged in a cute braid adorned with little butterfly clips. gaeul lets out a chuckle—rei, your roommate, must’ve helped you with that. gaeul also notices that you were wearing the sneakers that the two of you bought together so you could match, which warmed her heart. even more so when she remembers that she was wearing her own pair of those sneakers too!

gaeul watched patiently as you entered the diner and greeted the waitress behind the counter like you always do. a bright smile spreads across your face once you find gaeul in your usual booth, and gaeul feels herself flashing her very own grin as you start walking faster towards her.

“hey! sorry, i’m late. i had to change my entire outfit. i didn’t think it would be so warm today.” you said, pulling gaeul into a quick hug before sitting across from her. gosh, you looked beautiful! the baby hairs that stuck to your forehead and the sides of your face only made you look even cuter, gaeul almost wanted to reach out and pinch your cheeks.

“careful. look any prettier and someone might mistake you as my girlfriend.” gaeul quipped. she finds herself grinning proudly as you laugh.

“you look dashing yourself! they probably already think you’re my boyfriend, but you’re not neglecting me for ‘a night with the boys’ so we would get found out quickly.” you sighed. you were clearly disappointed, but you covered it up with another laugh before sipping on the glass of water gaeul kindly ordered for you.

“then today is a date. he probably hasn’t taken you in one for ages, anyway.” gaeul doesn’t know if you’ll actually buy it. she wasn’t even joking! as far as she knows, his version of dates is taking you on a boring ass car ride and spoiling you with useless shit. she knows what you want on dates. she knows what you want in general. let this work.

you giggled, “true. it’s a date then.” and she doesn’t miss the shy smile on your face afterwards.

well! it looks like this was going to be easier than gaeul predicted.

as the two of you ate your lunch, you talked about school and how life has been treating you both. you were thriving for the most part! you were up to date with your coursework, your job hasn’t been too demanding or taxing, and you were able to have enough breathing space in your life to actually meet up with gaeul, like right now! it seems like the only problem in your life was your boyfriend. he hasn’t been spending too much time with you, and one would think it might be because he’s gotten busier but nope, he’s as shitty as gaeul describes him to be. he only wants to hang out with his team and his stupid friends, and he barely talks to you even in text! that asshole.

gaeul didn’t let you dwell on it all though. she absolutely detests seeing you upset. especially over that useless fucker. she distracts you with a few funny shenanigans from working in her dad’s shop, and how she has actually been doing quite well in her classes! it was clearly your influence. hell, if it weren’t for you, gaeul wouldn’t even be in college at all! you gave her direction, and now you were giving her all the motivation she needs to make it through one school day at a time.

fuck, your boyfriend was so lucky. gaeul has to let you see that he wasn’t worth anything you’re giving him. she has to pull you away and make you see that a pretty girl like you needs to feel good!

in more ways than one.

“so, boyfriend, where are we going?” you joked as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of her car. while gaeul started the engine, that was when she put her little scheme in motion.

“bowling. or rather, sending the balls to the gutter for two hours straight.” she said. bowling happens to be your favorite stress reliever, it always has been! gaeul always liked watching you as you played. even when you didn’t hit any of the pins, you still had fun. gaeul was willing to bet that your pathetic boyfriend rarely ever takes you bowling.

“god you’re the best.”

“mhm, i know.”

from then on, gaeul knew it was going to be a breeze. especially when she did get on the road and you just allowed her to put her hand on your thigh. you didn’t even notice at first, occupied with fixing your charming but unruly hair. but then gaeul lightly squeezed your thigh, caressing slowly just to test the waters, and finally, you noticed her. she was afraid that your attitude would change, but it seemed like… you liked what she was doing. and so gaeul’s hand stays in place. she took note of how you squeezed your legs together every time she caresses your skin gently, or how you would sometimes put your hand on top of hers.

the drive to the bowling alley was quiet, save for the music you’ve put on, of course. silence was a rarity between the two of you since there was always something to catch up on, things to complain and whine about, people to talk shit about, and casual conversations that have become needed just to have some sense of normality in your chaotic lives. gaeul was afraid she had made you uncomfortable because come on, she was quite literally trying to take over your boyfriend’s place! joke or not, this was bound to make you just the least bit weirded out!

imagine gaeul’s surprise when she briefly glanced over to your direction and find you looking relaxed. not even the constant buzzing of your phone was able to break your focus on the road. just like that, gaeul doesn’t stop a smile from forming on her face. forget about him.

and it seems like as soon as gaeul parked her car near the bowling alley—you did! you took gaeul’s arm and started gingerly dragging her through the doors, giggling as you did so. it was easy to secure a spot for the two of you, the place wasn’t too busy yet after all.

“two hours of this? you ready to lose, kim?” you said with a mocking smile as you approached the lane. gaeul sat back on the couches behind you, smirking as she very shamelessly checked your backside out unbeknownst to you. there was a small table in the middle of the u-shaped couch that gaeul sat on where you laid down your phone. as you busied yourself making your cute little bowling profile on the monitor near the lane, gaeul glances down at your phone that kept lighting up at it vibrated. your boyfriend was calling you, and he has sent you a dozen or more messages that you still haven’t bothered to look at.

gaeul sneers at the picture of your boyfriend on the screen. he really didn’t deserve you! luckily for him, she will happily take you off his hands. gaeul takes your phone and declines the call, smiling happily when she leaned back on the couch and continued on staring at your beautiful form. you hooked a medium-sized ball with your hand and prepared yourself—sure, you were never the best at the sport but you were to have fun and have fun only! and so you delivered the ball and hit exactly seven pins. gaeul tilts her head a bit to see the look of pure joy on your face and finds herself grinning along with you.

for once, it was not at all a bad start for you! you grabbed the smaller ball and prepared to take down the last three pins at the other end of the lane. upon staring at your near flawless little pose that especially accentuated your ass, gaeul whistles. the sound catches you off-guard and you end up messing up your throw, sending the ball into the gutter in a fit of laughter.

“you little devil.” you said, playfully glaring at your best friend who has stood up and started stretching all of her limbs.

“this is where your short-lived lucky streak ends,” gaeul pats your butt as she approaches the lane. and of course, she didn’t lie. gaeul delivers a ball and hits her first (and certainly not last!) strike. she winked at you while you stared at her, mouth agape at how she didn’t even hesitate to not go easy on you. “cat got your tongue, baby?” your best friend teased.

you don’t even notice the nickname, what with your competitive spirit alive and well. “oh, it is so on, kim gaeul!”

and for the next two hours, you and gaeul had the best time of your life in that bowling alley. the longer the two of you were together and the more you got drunk from pure joy of being with each other, gaeul got bolder. she was touching your waist, your back, and sometimes even rested her hand on your ass for more than a few seconds! you didn’t care—in fact, you were just as bad! grabbing her and pulling her close to whisper things in her ear (partly because the music would have drowned your voice, mostly because you wanted gaeul nearer), allowing her to not-so-discreetly touch you in places a best friend should definitely not, and finally, sitting on her lap, playing with the collar of her shirt and telling her to take you to her home.

exactly zero innocent intent at all, and gaeul was seemingly more than happy to comply!

on the way to gaeul’s apartment, it was noticeably… warm. both of your hearts were beating fast and loud from anticipation. gaeul yearned to feel your skin without the hindrance of your clothes getting in the way. her fingertips itched to feel goosebumps run along your arm, shoulders, and back as she touched you in ways she always dreamed of doing. her lips longed to taste yours since she knew that peach-flavored chapstick you two liked to share would taste so much sweeter if you were the direct source. gaeul wanted you, and she was going to have you—boyfriend be fucking damned.

when gaeul flipped the lock on her door, the two of you were all over each other. bags and jackets thrown to some random corners, shoes messily removed and left all over the living room area. gaeul barely twisted open the doorknob of her bedroom door, being so focused on exploring every crevice of your mouth with her tongue until she tugs you inside her room. her lips stayed locked with yours as she sat on her bed and pulled you to her lap, hiking your dress up and squeezing your ass. your moans were much, much sweeter than she imagined. she shivers at the feeling of your fingers playing with the back of her neck, her own whimpers only encouraging you to busy your hands with unbuttoning her shirt.

when you’ve successfully taken her shirt off, your dress was next. and gaeul made sure to take her sweet time with that! her hands caressed your thighs, gently squeezed your hips and even moved you so you could grind on her thigh (the cute whine she earned from that was very much appreciated!), and then her hands stayed wrapped around your waist as she placed soft kisses along your collarbone. you could feel her smile against your skin when you squeezed at her arms, knowing damn well what you wanted but refusing to give it to you because… well, if this happens to be the only time she fucks you then she might as well make it last!

finally, when gaeul was satisfied with the little marks she had left on your collarbone, she started pulling the ribbon on your back and loosened up your dress. “you made sure to look pretty for me, huh?” she asked as she watched you undress yourself. she took note of the bright blush on your cheeks under her dark stare, and it made her think that perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was thinking of fucking her best friend for the longest time. meanwhile, in your defense, it’s been quite a while since you had to dress yourself up and what better occasion to do that than hanging out with your best friend?

plus, if it got you to get fucked by the friend in question then you’d say that the two-hour preparation was worth it!

when gaeul laid you down on the bed, she noticed how you suddenly became quite tense, looking as though your boyfriend was about to come breaking down gaeul’s doors to drag you back with him. gaeul made sure to relieve you by kissing your forehead, taking your hands with hers and then putting your knuckles to her lips. “you’re safe with me, (y/n).” she whispered, pecking your knuckles gently and smiling at you. sure, it works… but the fear that bubbled up in your stomach did not go away.

“if he finds out about this…” you pull your best friend close, letting her embrace you while you wrap your arms around her neck.

gaeul scoffed arrogantly, “he won’t—”

“—if he does, i don’t know what i’ll do,” you never told gaeul that your boyfriend has been watching out for her for the longest time. he was always suspicious of gaeul, saying that he was so sure that she wanted to fuck you and make you hers. because of his suspicions (that now proved to be true), he always made sure to be annoying and text you and call you an absurd amount of times whenever you were hanging out with gaeul. he never does that when you’re out with your other friends. no. that behavior was reserved for the one person he was threatened by. “i don’t want him to hurt you.” you said. you can’t even imagine what he would do to you, let alone the girl he absolutely detests.

“he’s as dumb as a brick. i could fuck you in his own bathroom and he’d have no idea.” gaeul makes a mental note to reserve that exact scenario in the future.

you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “you know he can very much send you to the hospital, right? he’s like, three heads taller than you!”

“three heads yet he’s still stupid enough to treat you horribly and practically give you away to me,” gaeul sneaks her hands behind you, unclasps your bra and pulls it off of you in one swift motion. your heart beats louder every second gaeul’s eyes travel downward, soaking in more and more of your naked beauty that she longed to set her eyes on forever. “i’ll teach him a thing or two about giving a pretty girl the pleasure she deserves.”

every doubt and fear you had evaporates into nothing as soon as gaeul puts her lips against your skin once again. sucking, biting, licking—anything she can do to leave marks and make you remember this night akin to a skilled painter perfecting their masterpiece with every stroke. you feel gaeul’s hand trail down your stomach and palm your soaked panties, and you had an almost automatic reaction to grind against her, blushing wildly upon hearing her chuckle at your enthusiasm. gaeul wraps her warm mouth around your nipple, your back arching at the feeling. an embarrassingly loud moan escapes your mouth when she flicks the hardened bud and presses her palm flat against your clit at the same time.

you were losing further control of your actions. grinding restlessly on gaeul’s hand for further pleasure, taking her free hand to play with your other breast, and even pushing her head impossibly closer to your chest. she was skilled with her tongue—you shuddered at the mere thought of what else she could do to you should this night go on for longer. you feel gaeul slide her hand inside your panties, only to feel your pussy with her fingers rather than fucking you immediately.

it was adorable how impatient you were. you needed and wanted to be pleasured. it must have been quite a while since you’ve gotten some action—gaeul isn’t surprised that even in sex your boyfriend can’t deliver. every flick of your nipple, every pinch to the other one, every parting of your pussy lips, and every brush against your clit, you were mewling. you would be embarrassed if you actually heard yourself but instead, all you could focus on was the little pleasure gaeul was giving you right now.

“that feel good, hon?” gaeul asks as she presses her lower palm against your clit harder than ever. she found your little nods endearing and your inability to find the words to answer her only inflates her ego, but as much as she would love to tease you all day long, she was just as desperate for you as you are for her.

“how long has it been since he’s made you cum?” she asked, slowly pulling your panties off and letting it drop to the floor. gaeul keeps her eyes fixed on you, looking for discomfort or doubt or any sign that tells her how you could be feeling about all of this. while gaeul knows that the two of you have already crossed a point of no return, she knows that if you gave yourself the time to think about all of this, you would come to your senses. in other words, you would get the fuck out of her house and never talk to her again. it would be disheartening, yes, but gaeul unfortunately knows you well enough to know that it would be possible.

to her surprise though, you seemed to have stopped caring now. you didn’t even bother to glance at your phone that was on the floor, vibrating wildly due to the amount of times you were being called by your boyfriend. you only silently beckoned for gaeul to touch you, to taste you, to claim you. and gaeul doesn’t need to be asked twice to oblige!

“he… he has never made me cum.” you admitted, looking away from the embarrassment.

“are you serious?” gaeul laughs, but then her jovial expression is replaced with an incredulous one. “you guys do have sex, right?”

“of course we do! just… h-he’s horrible at it… every time we’re done, i have to get myself off because he never can!” you covered your face in frustration, now just wondering how you actually survived years without being able to cum with your partner during the act.

“fuck, he really is worth nothing at all, huh?” gaeul cackles. ah, poor you… but you didn’t have to worry about not cumming tonight, because gaeul just now made a silent promise that she’ll make you cum as many times as you want. she lowers herself so she could be facing your pussy, all wet and ready just for her. just as gaeul was about to bury her face in between your legs, you take a hold of one of her hands and intertwine it with yours, making her heart swell with affection. she doesn’t look back up at you, knowing that the blush on her cheeks would be too noticeable. gaeul starts off giving your cunt gentle kisses and little licks—hearing you softly whimper and seeing you jolt every time the tip of her tongue so much as brush slightly around your clit gets her adrenaline going, and eventually, gaeul commits herself to eating you out.

within mere minutes of practically making out with your pussy, gael feels you put your free hand behind gaeul’s head and pushes her closer. “more…” you could barely say, too caught up with the euphoric feeling gaeul has instilled in you using her tongue alone. it takes everything in gaeul to let go of your hand to part your lips to have better access to your clit, and when you grabbed a fistful of her hair and let out a beautiful moan, gaeul knew she was doing something right.

something adorable gaeul notices is that you were extremely sensitive when it comes to your clit, more than any woman gaeul has ever been intimate with and even herself. she licks a stripe up your cunt, relishing in your taste and the way you whine her name, before sucking on your clit. it’s almost as if you’ve never had your pussy eaten out this good before! and truthfully, you really haven’t. gaeul’s own satisfied moans created a buzz in your head, letting you know just how much she loved and savored your taste with each lick. she brings a new kind of pleasure when she makes out with your clit at a gentle, slow pace. the kind of pleasure you would never find your boyfriend (or anyone else for that matter) to be giving you.

it almost makes you wonder what gaeul’s true intentions were. of course, you weren’t expecting her to be completely in love with you. if she was, the first thing she would do to show it was not making you cheat on your boyfriend with her. was she just looking for a quick hook-up? but if that was the case, she could have just grabbed some random girl instead of putting your friendship in an awkward spot like this. perhaps you were just another box in a list that she wants to check off, but that would be cruel and completely unlike the gaeul you have known since the two of you were young. with the way she was cautious with how she fucked you, touched you, and even handled you during all of this, you wanted to believe that she has some sort of undiscovered feelings towards you.

but why were you even thinking about that? did you even have feelings for her? that was a dangerous territory you never wanted to explore, not when you cherished your friendship too much. but the ‘idea’ of dating your own best friend was never really just an idea with you. not when gaeul had ten times the charm that makes your boyfriend look like some hopeless wimp. not when gaeul will forever be the person that knows you the best. not when every time she does something as simple as tell you you’re pretty, or open a door for you, or laugh at your jokes, or smile at you so handsomely, the tiniest of butterflies flutter around in your stomach.

it was a scary feeling, one that you always hoped to go away one day but these days, and especially today, it has been hard. maybe when this is over… you don’t have to run away from it anymore, because when you look at gaeul’s eyes that pierced right through yours even as she was eating you out, you can see something beyond the hunger, the lust, and the desperation.

whatever it was, you found yourself more willing to uncover it, even if it might ruin everything.

“you’re so perfect, (y/n)...” gaeul snaps you out of your trance and immediately after, she dips her tongue inside you. “you’re better off with someone else… someone who knows you better, inside and out… mmhn... don’t you agree, princess?”

you whine shamelessly, “y-yes..! ahh… with you…” now you didn’t even mean to let that slip past your lips, but gaeul seems beyond satisfied that you did. completely addicted to your taste, gaeul pulls you closer and further down the bed by your waist, your back arching with how well she was using her mouth. the pleasure gaeul brought was enough to make your thighs twitch, your legs slightly rise in the air, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“you cumming soon, baby…?” gaeul asks, briefly lifting her head slightly from in between your legs. a sly smirk graced her features, knowing that the cause of your incoherence was her. it gives her the confidence to do a lot more to you, to do everything she has been wanting to do for years. you seem to notice how she had paused to stare at you, and you shoved her face back down to your core, earning a chuckle from her. gaeul pushes your thigh back, almost lifting your leg up, for better access and eats you out better than before as if that was even possible.

at this point both of your hands were on her head. you would be worried about the tight grip you had on her hair but you were way too busy on that tight knot in your stomach. you think you hear gaeul encouraging you to cum, and you can vaguely feel her palm resting on your stomach and it does help you relax a bit. enough for you to have the strength to look down at your best friend, whose eyes have always been on you this entire time. god, she was pretty… and she looked like she belonged right where she was. she didn’t give you any more time to admire her though, as a flick of her tongue on your clit sends you to a blissful orgasm.

your body softly falls backwards your bed as you throw your head back with only gaeul’s name filling the air. gaeul spends a good few seconds staring at your face—her doing. you were simply bewitching in her eyes. she made sure to take her time cleaning you up while you came down from your high, waiting patiently until you’ve caught your breath and calmed down. she sees you breathing normally and smiles before rising up, attacking your face with a barrage of kisses while you laugh and take her in your arms.

“don’t get comfortable. this is all we’re doing until morning.” gaeul, more than ready to please you all day and night long, places a wet kiss on your collarbone before sliding her hand in between your legs. she was well on her way down your core until her phone blares loudly—someone was calling her. she ignores the sound, opting to kiss down your neck while her fingers start ghosting over your clit. and just then, you turned your head and got a glimpse of the caller id on the gaeul’s screen. but gaeul sees it first and she swipes her phone away with a dark chuckle.

“w-who is it…?” you asked quietly, not wanting to alert whoever was on the other end. gaeul’s smile grows wider as she puts the caller on speaker. your heart drops to your stomach as soon as you hear the other person’s voice. 

a man. your man. your fucking boyfriend!

“are you there, kim?”

sheer panic courses within you. you tried grabbing gaeul’s hand, but she moves away, pressing a single finger against your lip. and then her mouth moves, but she doesn’t make a sound. trust me, she says silently. you kept still, trusting your best friend to not do anything stupid. of course she wouldn’t put you in any danger just to have fun, but you did worry that she would set your boyfriend off enough for him to do something to her. your heart beats loudly in your chest and goosebumps appear all over your skin. you were terrified beyond comprehension, but gaeul’s soft caresses and reassuring eyes comfort you, even just a little bit.

“what do you want?” gaeul asked, annoyed that he just had to interrupt the two of you. her hand once again travels downwards your body until she reaches your cunt. she traces your lips before inserting the smallest length of her two fingers, making you bite back a moan.

“where’s (y/n)? why isn’t she answering her phone?”

gaeul grins and plunges her fingers deep inside you, she couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh as she watched you choke out a moan. you immediately covered your mouth, pitifully glaring at your best friend but not being completely mad at her. her fingers felt too good inside you—staying perfectly still just to get you to get used to the feeling until she starts moving, slow and steady as if she herself was savoring the feeling of your cunt clench around her digits.

“what was that? is that her? are you fucking my girlfriend?!”

gaeul cackles, “you wouldn’t know what (y/n) sounds like when being fucked even if you’re the one fucking her.” she increases her pace, even nodding towards you to get you to relax and just keep trusting her because she could feel your fear. it made her angry. no one should claim to be your partner if they made you feel so afraid of them. you shouldn’t have to beg for them for their time and love either. if gaeul had known that this was what everything from back then would lead up to, then she would’ve intervened when you and your boyfriend were still just acquaintances. but there was no point in dwelling on that because she has the opportunity to make this all right.

and the correct ending to all of this was her freeing you from him, him ending up all alone, and the two of you figuring out what to do with each other.

“you bitch! i swear to god if that’s (y/n)—”

“—i’m not fucking my best friend, shithead. you should start worrying more about the fact that she’s refusing to call your lacking ass back.” gaeul watches you intently as you slowly lose most of yourself to her. moving your hips accordingly, meeting her little thrusts with eagerness that only got gaeul herself drenched. you tugged on gaeul’s top, silently asking her to get off the call already and just fuck you. and that you didn’t have to ask her twice, of course. while your boyfriend kept yelling at her, gaeul ends the call before blissfully dropping her phone to the ground.

you don’t know what came over you, but all of a sudden you wanted to see your best friend under you. tugging her down harder, catching her lips with yours in a searing kiss… feeling sick satisfaction in you when she stiffened at your sudden surge of passion, and using her shock to flip your positions over. gaeul pulls her fingers out, putting them on your hips instead and trying to keep up with the way you kissed her feverishly.

“you’re cute…” gaeul whispers, thoroughly entertained by you. ugh, those eyes. that nose, her perfect moles, her smile, that mouth… fuck. you have to feel her lips on your pussy again but this time… you wanted to be in control. you smile at your best friend as you swipe your thumb across her lips before getting in position.

“holy shit, (y/n)—”

“—shut up, man.” you cut her off with your face so warm you think you might explode. she didn’t look like she was turned off by the idea. in fact, gaeul places her hands on your thighs, looking more excited than she has ever been this entire time. “t-tell me if i’m hurting you… or anything.” you said. gaeul merely nods, eyes focused on your core. you were going to say a few more words, maybe tell her that you haven’t sat on anyone’s face in a while so you might be bad at this but gaeul couldn’t wait another second. she pulls you down, and the sound that escapes your lips when her nose bumps against your clit was simply criminal.

“ffuck…! oh, g-god…!” with one hand tightly gripping the headboard and the other holding onto a random pillow, you start riding gaeul’s face. and again, she was moaning. as if a better flavor has never graced her tongue until she got to taste you. gosh, the way you threw your head back and let every lewd sound fill the air as you rode her got gaeul clenching, but she couldn’t keep her hands off of you either. she squeezed your thighs, almost as if she was encouraging you to go faster and just use her.

“mmhgn… so good… more, please..” letting go of the pillow and the headboard, you put your hands on gaeul’s head. you ride her faster, focused on pleasing yourself and chasing another orgasm while gaeul does her work with her tongue. it was getting harder and harder to hold herself back from touching her own pussy; she was too drenched and you were simply too delicious. at this rate, she might just cum untouched! the idea of it was humiliating almost, but gaeul figured that if she made you cum hard enough then you wouldn’t even realize what had happened to her. but then again… why would she go through all that trouble?

with one hand, gaeul reaches down and unzips her jeans, sliding further down and massaging her clit through her panties. of course, you don’t see this. you don’t even hear gaeul over the sound of your whimpering and moaning—all you wanted was to use her mouth to get yourself off. you managed to open your eyes slightly, however, and looked down at gaeul. her eyes were shut off, eyebrows furrowed deeply as she diligently ate out and fingered herself at the same time. 

you heart swells as you allow yourself to etch every single facial feature of hers in your mind. you didn’t think you’d find a more fitting place for your best friend. it turns out she looked good underneath you, too! when you got distracted by admiring gaeul’s face, you felt a sting on your ass. you gasped loudly, and although it caught you off guard, you liked it. you moved your hips enthusiastically as gaeul squeezed your ass, now glaring at you to intimidate you to keep going. and it works! well, it’s not like you were going to stop just like that.

“p-pretty… you belong right here…” you said, gripping her hair tighter. gaeul moans at your words and she feels herself only clenching tighter around her own fingers. she didn’t expect to get so turned on by merely fucking you and hearing you talk to her in such a different way than usual. she pushes her tongue inside your cunt, making you scream in pleasure. gaeul’s ears ring at the sound of your voice—she was sure now that you wouldn’t dare go back to that pathetic boyfriend of yours.

you were hers now. and she has always been yours.

“gaeul… babe, i’m cumming—god…!” with one last thrust on your best friend’s face, you came. moaning blissfully in the air as gaeul allowed you to ride your orgasm out, and while she laps up your cum as best as she could, she hits a satisfying climax which grants you the perfect chance to hear a cute squeak from her. gaeul removes her hand from her panties and holds you down on her face, not entirely satisfied to let you go even though she can see that you can barely keep yourself sitting. that wasn’t going to be a problem anymore though as gaeul once again flipped your positions so you would be sitting on the bed and she would still be in between your legs.

“mmh… stop, i’m tired… please.” you shake your head weakly, gently tapping gaeul’s hand. fortunately enough, your best friend respected your wishes and stopped, opting to scoop you up in her arms instead and hug you. you laughed at how much of a mess you made on your best friend’s face, wiping all of it clean with your hands before giving her a quick kiss. gaeul doesn’t forget to get rid of her pants before staying completely still in bed with you, staring at nothing but your pretty face for minutes on end.

you think you fell asleep a couple of times, and you ended up always opening your eyes to gaeul smiling dumbly at you like a lovesick puppy. if you had known gaeul allowed herself to see you in such a different light, then you wouldn’t have wasted time trying to fall in love with a boy who did nothing good for you. but no matter, you were going to leave him, and finally, you and your best friend can work towards a more fulfilling relationship for the two of you.

“i always knew it’d be you in the end.” gaeul whispers as she leaves the tiniest and sweetest kisses on your knuckles.

the tiniest bits of fear settled in the pit of your stomach—you didn’t want your boyfriend to find out about this at all. you wanted to protect gaeul and dump his ass with as much as peace as you can manage, but you know he was going to bring her up somehow. at the end of the day, the blame should be put on you since you were the one who allowed gaeul to make those advances towards you anyway… but you knew all too well that that wouldn’t stop your boyfriend from coming up with an excuse to try and confront your best friend.

but every time you dwelled on those thoughts, gaeul somehow notices it and keeps your eyes on her. she knew she would be able to pull your attention to something else and that she does rather effortlessly. and you knew that you would be safe, as long as you were with her.

you laugh at her words, “i’m glad that you didn’t fuck me just because i’m hot and you hate my boyfriend.” you joked, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

“no, stupid,” gaeul pulls you closer by your waist, kissing your nose. “i love you.”

[a-little-bit-of-tradition]

Months before he was baptized into the chaos of combat, Speirs's life took another unexpected turn. In the realm of quaint English society, he was to discover his first true love. (Fierce Valour)

"Before the invasion, I was sent down to Winchester to set up a camp for an infantry division coming up from Africa. There I met my English wife who was a member of the ATS, the British Women's Service." (Speirs to Ambrose, 1991)

Her name was Edwyna - Margaret Edwyna Griffiths. Five months younger than Ron, long hair flowed down her neck. She displayed a genial smile and enjoyed sunbathing on Britain’s pebbly beaches in the summer season. Her handyman father had served in the Brecknock Battalion and the Royal Flying Corps during World War I. In warmer months, Edwyna’s mother accommodated lodgers in the coastal resort town of Llandudno. Like so many youthful Britons, Griffiths was swept far from home because of wartime necessities. She enlisted in the ranks of the Auxiliary Territorial Service (ATS), an all-female branch of the British Army. These dutiful ladies served in various capacities during the conflict - assignments ranging from clerks, to searchlight operators, to radar technicians. (Fierce Valour)

The former capital of England evoked pleasant postcard ambiance. Such was the alluring locale in which Ron fell in love with his first spouse. The two grew smitten and were soon engaged. Sink accordingly granted Speirs's request to marry Griffiths. The date of the ceremony was set for May 21st, 1944 in Aldbourne. (Fierce Valour)

The knot was tied on a bright yet mild Sunday. Guests convened at the ornate Saint Michael’s Church on the northern edge of town. Ron and Edwyna dressed tastefully for the cheerful occasion. Outside the Arbell residence, the couple posed for photos. The groom polished his beloved paratrooper boots to mirror shine and sharply cuffed his “pinks” over them. His jump wings were distinctly emblazoned over the left breast of his chocolate brown Class A jacket. The bride was dressed in an upbeat, pleated blouse; a flowered bonnet was tastefully perched atop her rolling crown of hair. Edwyna’s sister, Kathleen, served as the maid of honor. Aldbourne’s vicar, the Reverend J. S. Elliot, officiated the winsome proceedings. (Fierce Valour)

An entourage of officers from multiple companies lent a martial air to the idyllic scene. Former roommate Herbert Viertel and the trustworthy Frederick “Moose” Heyliger served as groomsmen. Included on the roster of guests was “Buck” Compton, whom Speirs would memorably join on a perilous D-Day mission only two weeks thence. If only momentarily, thoughts of combat and its innumerable hazards receded in the consciousness of the wedding’s attendees. Following the service, Speirs and fellow officers informally assembled on the church steps for a lighthearted group photograph. Kneeling in the foreground, Ron sported the biggest grin of them all. Unfortunately, his days remaining in rustic Aldbourne were few. (Fierce Valour)

Longing thoughts of Edwyna sifted through Speirs's busy mind. His English honeymoon was strikingly short-lived. Days after the couple's marriage, the regiment relicated to its transitory home in Upottery. His bride similarly returned to her domestic military committments with the ATS. (Fierce Valour)

Upon return [to England in July] Speirs welcomed a luxury comfort most GIs could not - family. (Fierce Valour)

"My platoon had high casualties in Normandy, including myself, wounded by a German "potato masher" hand grenade in the face and knee. Was evacuated to hospital in England for recovery, then rejoined the regiment when they were withdrawn to England, prior to the airborne invasion of Holland. My wound was a blessing for me, since I had a wife and baby in England. (Speirs to Ambrose, 1991)

For the Americans, October 4th [in Holland] presented a calm prelude. Speirs perhaps received a much anticipated letter from Edwyna, whose three weeks removed from him already seemed an eternity. (Fierce Valour)

"I'm sweating on a furlough to England to see my wife and baby. I will go soon I guess." (Speirs to Guth, 1945)

[In August, 1945] "Speirs - along with Winters, Foley, and a host of fellow officers - were eager to escape the drab surroundings. They gladly took furloughs to England." (Fierce Valour)

When [Robert Gutteridge] was eventually liberated by Americans, the news came as a shock to Edwyna. She had thought her former beau had been dead for years. Conflicted love and a sudden hesitance to relocate to America spelled doom for her marriage to Speirs. As a career soldier, Ron could not care for their son alone if the couple permanently separated. Only one choice remained. “After my return to the States,” Speirs stated, “we were divorced under U.S. law, whereupon she married her POW sweetheart and lived happily until her death” in 1987. “Her husband is a lawyer, a fine guy.” Five years after Edwyna’s passing, Speirs wrote to Winters, “I loved her and still do.”

The crushing circumstances of separation made for a somber Christmastime departure from the grimy port of Le Havre. Speirs scaled the walkway onto the transport vessel sailing him to Southampton, where he would then board the America-bound Queen Mary. The wharves were alive with the banter of joyous GIs. In that hour of optimism, happiness eluded Ronald Speirs. He embarked on his transatlantic journey with a sense of loneliness and uncertainty. Such was not the homecoming he had desired or expected. (Fierce Valour)

"My English wife Edwyna died several years ago. She was not a widow as the book stated. The other reference to her in the book was disparaging. I loved her and still do. Our son and his three children are coming to the States in August. It will be embarrassing to show him the book. Someone should have verified the facts with me before printing the book." (Speirs to Winters, 1992)

"Just wrote to my english son. He enjoys the army. Must be in his genes I guess. His daughter Kate may be working in Edinburgh - the city where I was born - small world." (Speirs to Winters, 1994)

"My family in England is dear to me. We keep in touch and exchange visits. They have come here and we have gone there over the years. My son Robert [H S Gutteridge] was married in London and I flew over for the wedding [in 1974] - treated as a member of the family. Edwyna died several years ago, a wonderful person. My son Robert is a Lt. Colonel in the "Royal Green Jackets, British Army" and I am proud of him. His children are special to Elsie and I.

I am well aware that all this is a small part of your story, but important to me. You can say what you like about me, but please leave my family out of it. I don't want any comments about Edwyna either on TV or in book form. Please eliminate all of these." (Speirs to Winters, 1999)

In the eyes of family, Ron was ever a gentleman to women and possessed an old-world chivalry. (Fierce Valour)

[zocomotive]

Ulfstead Castle

You know how the Castle Class didn't have a prototype? Well I changed that. Charles Collett wasn't taking any chances here.

Originally unnamed and unnumbered, she was built in Swindon in the summer of 1923. (assigned male, but she later realized she is actually female). She was not put in regular service due to having oversize cylinders which contributed to issues circulating steam.

She was briefly loaned to the NWR in its early days. (she was one of the mean blue engines, along with her cousin, the Great Bear. It was the GWR's first attempt to dump their clunky prototype and their psycotic one-off) After she was sent away, she was sold to the Committee for the Research of Living Machines as a test subject. (She didn't get her name until she returned to Sodor... someday.)

She is featured in this story here

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Creche-master Obi-Wan Kenobi AU that im lit making up on the spot rn LETS GOOOO

Im not a expert on his past and tbh ive prob mixed up certain events so forgive me for being mega vague on the backstory ok if i stop to research this i'll never get around to actually writing this post

Obi-Wan comes back from the horrors of Melida/Daan more determined than ever to fulfill the role of Peacekeeper

But he gets pulled into another war. Another huge conflict. More death and heartbreak and trauma piles on over the years

And when he gets back from surviving Mandalore he decides he's had enough. He cant do this AGAIN

Obi-Wan resigns from being a padawan. It breaks Qui-Gon's heart. It tears Obi-Wan's too. He promised he wouldnt leave. It was one of the requirements to Qui-Gon even taking him on

He cycles through different aspects of the Service Corps, looking for his place in the world galaxy

He's working in the creche when Anakin comes through

Anakin is already a claimed padawan (by Qui-Gon if he lived or by someone else) but he's still got a few years in the upper ages of the creche. The council deems it especially important as Anakin has no sense of Jedi culture and tradition that comes with the upbringing

Its very rough for Anakin for a multitude of reasons

And Obi-Wan steps up

Obi-Wan sits with him when the other kids refuse to. Obi-Wan translates the assignments for him as he painfully learns Aurebesh. Obi-Wan holds him through the nightmares and smuggles him droid parts to play with and gets him on a nutrition plan

Anakin LOVES Obi-Wan his first friend and repeatedly sneaks out to come see him after he moves into the Padawan-Master quarters

And then the war rolls around

That awkward moment when the council realized their best strategist and one of their most experienced fighters and top Soresu Masters is a crechemaster that dropped out of knighthood

The even more awkward moment when the top GAR officials found out the most promising Jedi general is not only a kindergarten teacher but also told Mace Windu to fuck off when trying to recruit him (in any capacity)

Obi-Wan used to teach Ahsoka. When the war came he found he couldnt stomach teaching the older initiates strategy and battle tactics. He knows it will save their lives but all he sees are the bodies of the Young he couldnt save and he re-assigns himself to the younger classes

Idk where to take it from here. The next step would be him meeting the clones who LOVE him. Maybe the council manages to get him on a battlefield? Maybe he taking his class on a overnight field trip and Anakin "i overprotect because i have control issues" Skywalker sends a group to escort them?

[handweavers]

"‘Trans man’ remains the preferred identity for Malaysian individuals who were Assigned female at birth but live their adult lives as men. The jettison-ing of pondan, pak nyah, wanita keras, tomboy and pengkid in favour of ‘trans man’ likely serves as a ratification of personal-communal empowerment and a repudiation of derision. It is even more likely that ‘trans man’ reflects a deep-seated desire to imitate and participate in ‘collective identifcation’, notably that which is cultivated in North American (and European) contexts, ‘in order to demand rights, equal citizenship, and welfare’ among other goals in Malaysia. This is hardly surprising. Technological advances facilitate unprecedented accessibility to copious resources on transgender issues and imagine a global transgender community in borderless solidarity. Travis S. K. Kong points out however, that ‘globalization is an uneven process that reproduces spatially uneven development, and the flow of capital, commodities, people, images, and ideas is never equal among locations’.

The Malaysian trans man thus experiences unequal and unstable access to the bounty of globalisation due to local limitations in education, economic means, social and cultural capital, class, ethnicity, religious affliation, educational levels, infrastructure and health services. He continues to be experience ‘disjunctive modernities’ which exhibit ‘irreducible plurality and local specifcity’, thus dispelling the myth of trans(national) homogeneity in transgender identity. The trans men I interviewed interpret their life stories through the rubric of local contexts that dispel any suspicion of a mere mimicry of western-styled transgender identities. Malaysian re/mouldings of ‘trans man’ speak to ‘experiences of multiplicity in gender identifcation … embedded within specifc social, cultural, and interpersonal contexts [that] create altogether new, emergent forms of experience and identity'."

— J. N. Goh, Becoming a Malaysian Trans Man

[sleepynegress]

On Belinda's Ending on The White Lotus... (spoilers!)

The white gaze on Black women characters in media is fucked up.

------- So, the current narrative since the finale, is that Belinda leaving a resort that subsisted on wealthy white narcissism, alive and well, 5 mil richer with her son in tow... Is somehow a tragic ending.

And now she's somehow "just like Tanya..." in this poetic mirror of an ending and I'm sorry, but BULLSHIT. LOL, these aren't the same situations. Belinda NEVER ASKED TANYA FOR MONEY. Tanya *offered* it to her, and Belinda, knowing promises and disappointment (and TBH how that class of people are) , outright rejected it at first. Tanya had to convince Belinda that she was in it forreal... And she was *still* (rightly) skeptical. AS SOON as she started genuinely believing that her dream was a mutual one for her and Tanya, of being this business partner with her, Tanya pulled that rug out from under her. That is the tragedy of that situation. Tanya genuinely wanted to think herself a decent person, but in the end....She was still a pampered frivolous rich white lady, who saw everyone else as fodder. Hell, that was the entire joke behind her ending lines about "the gays" trying to kill her. She saw every group like some interesting new bird species to admire (their feathers) and mingle among for her amusement, not fully realized people on her level. ------- Pornchai, however, (wrongly) assumed Belinda was a wealthy foreigner from jump, who could help him and his with money. However real his feelings for her were, there was always that hidden agenda there. He genuinely liked her and was attracted to her, and may have even seen her as safer than the white tourists whom he'd dealt with all the time, because she was a Black woman. ...But it is *telling* that he asked her for money right after they'd slept together. Honestly, Belinda was kinder and more understanding than she needed to be, given that timing. He even told her as he asked, that he thought/assumed she was wealthy enough to assist him with his situation. It really reeks of a white audience fully not accepting and thinking a Black woman, especially an unambiguous one who isn't skinny...got to live unbound by the kind the righteous "dignity" under a heavy-sociological load, narratives typically assign to Black women as a "win". *cough*

Like there is genuinely a white pathology that cannot conceive of, or handle the idea of a black woman simply living joyously without serving a white gaze or under some immense pressure or hardship... (that of course, she handles with righteous "strong black woman" superpowered dignity or some shit). There have been entire essays about how even in the award show circuit, only those types of performances from Black women are acknowledged and awarded... Seriously, think about every Black woman who was ever given award attention in film and the roles they played... Exactly. TBH, that is also part of the root of the obsession/issue with Meghan Markle as well, even with her feature-ambiguity and biracial (specifically white parentage) ethnic identity, the gaze of whiteness is scrambled by the idea of a Black woman somehow serving *only* herself and comfort, especially in that class and quiet luxury... they have determined is not/and should never be for her kind. They have a box Black womanhood and femininity comfortably (for them) always occupies and her existence outside of that just doesn't. compute. Going further back... The phenomenon of Oprah, becoming the wealthiest Black woman in America at the height of her career, came down to aptly serving that expectation and gaze. For white audiences, she managed to acquire immense wealth by crafting a gaze of "service" and "friendship" and pseudo-employ it. She cleverly modernized and then filled the role (still a part of American whiteness' recent unresolved ancestral memory), lost between Reconstruction and Jim Crow, during which so many Black women served as integral parts of white households....but never *truly* being connected/close in the way white pathology falsely constructed it in order to soothe that conscience (rewatch The Help to get what I mean)... This is a big reason why Oprah's brand worked for so long. Now, back to Belinda. She subverted ALL of that. She wisely said no the handsome man, who would have been an extra burden to cater to/and serve disrupting her happy ending, while still being healthy in that ending for them (that's another thing I've noticed lacking in social intelligence/media literacy, not all "romantic break-ups" are sad and unhealthy, yall). Her son, actually was savvy enough to get for her what she deserved and ultimately, she left without undercutting her *rewards* in the process, which would have been the typical expected end for her "type". Belinda's end was and should be a wake-up to the white gaze, that they *always* have a funky expectation of Black womanhood being burdensome and in service to anyone but themselves, and that serves as somehow a comfort to whiteness.... The fact that so many are twisting themselves into knots to deprive her of a simple happy ending where she rides off into the sunset with her 5 mil and has that without losing anything?? *LOL* The fact that yall can't see the simple subversion?? 🤦🏽‍♀️ Re-adjust those goggles and recalibrate. The fat unambiguous Black woman doesn't need to lose something or be burdened somehow in order "pay" for or balance out her happy ending. Her son being savvy enough to navigate the always grifting spaces of white wealth in order to get the best deal for her doesn't "lessen him" somehow for outsmarting that system... Belinda WON. She'll live a soft wealthy life with her dream fulfilled. There are no Tanya's or even Pornchai's happiness to cater to for her. JUST HER OWN. That's it. THE END.

[luckyashes-art]

[PJSK Werewolf AU] Took me a hot sec but here's finally the list DSJKHRSDR

Leo/need

Ichika - Werewolf (turned)

Saki - Human (traveling musician w/ L/n)

Honami - Human (part-time house keeper for Kanade)

Shiho - Hunter

More More Jump!

Minori - Hunter

Haruka - Hunter

Airi - Werewolf (natural, former hunter)

Shizuku - Hunter

Vivid BAD SQUAD

Kohane - Werewolf (natural)

An - Hunter

Akito - Hunter

Toya - Hunter

Wonderlands x Showtime

Tsukasa - Hunter

Emu - Werewolf (natural)

Nene - Human (former hunter, storyteller via Kanade’s poetry)

Rui - Human (he love alchemy)

Nightcord at 25:00

Kanade - Werewolf (vague), shut-in poet

Mafuyu - Hunter

Ena - Werewolf (turned)

Mizuki - Human (seamstress)

Extra Bits under the cut !

Nightcord as a unit in this AU are all pen-pals through a mail service that allows for full anonymity between senders and recipients. While never having met in-person, the four of them consider each other to be good friends. Things go awry however when news breaks of not just a search for Ena after she seemingly went missing, but also a hunt for a large and dangerous werewolf that was recently spotted in the city...

Kanade Yoisaki is a poet that publishes her work anonymously under the name K and has garnered quite the following in literary circles. She's a shut-in who lives on the outskirts of a small town, choosing to keep away from other people for reasons she never elaborates on when asked about it. In truth, she's a werewolf who blames herself for the death of her father (her mother was lost to illness when Kanade was still a child).

Mizuki Akiyama is a seamstress in a town close to the city. Secretly works with werewolves to help repair any clothing they may have damaged when they transformed into their wolf forms. Very empathetic to the struggles that werewolves face due to her own personal experiences (while she herself is human, she understands the feeling of being outcast due to something that cannot be changed).

Ena Shinonome is an artist currently making her way through the art academy, seeking to make a career out of painting. Unfortunately, her studies were cut short when she was bitten by a werewolf and subsequently became one herself. Having escaped from the city after her sudden transformation, she now must grapple with the fact that she can't go back to her old life due to her very existence as a werewolf being declared "kill on sight."

Mafuyu Asahina is a werewolf hunter. She graduated at the top of her class at the hunter's academy and is now one of the most well-known hunters in the area due to her proficiency and skill. Has been assigned to track down and kill the large werewolf that was recently seen in the city.

(Written by @biocrafthero, note that these aren't 100% final!)

[leenashiftss]

HIS FAVORITE RIVAL

| “You keep trying to beat me, but you can’t even stop thinking about me.”

Pairing: Yang Jungwon x afab!reader

Genre: Smut, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, teasing & playful tension

Warnings: unprotected p in v (18+), explicit smut (oral, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, etc), dom!jungwon, sexual tension, cursing, reader is slightly younger + competitive, light enemies/rivals dynamic, slight time skips (not that big..I’m inpatient LEAVE ME ALONE), lmk if i missed anything !! Also, my first ever ficccc🥰

Rating: 18+ MDNI

WC: 9,902..

| You’ve spent the last two years trying to one up Jungwon at everything..until you’re forced to share a room with him at the country’s most prestigious boarding school. He’s infuriating, brilliant, and way too good at getting under your skin… and under your skirt.

══════════════════════

You hadn’t even been back on campus for twenty minutes and things were already falling apart.

Coming back from fall break was supposed to be a reset, a clean slate. A chance to breathe before things ramped up again at Valemont, the country’s most prestigious (and most suffocating) boarding academy. You had spent the past week catching up on sleep, watching trashy dramas with your cousin, and pretending, for just a little while, that the constant pressure of being the best wasn’t sitting on your shoulders like a ten-ton weight.

You didn’t think much could kill that relaxed buzz.

Until Dean Baek’s announcement.

“Due to renovations in the East Wing,” she said, voice projecting through the grand marble atrium, “students will be reassigned to new dormitory suites, effective immediately.”

The noise that followed was instant and loud, mostly groans and complaints. Your heart sank. You had lived with Karina and Rei for two years straight. They had become your safe place. You loved them. They got you. And now… you’d be thrown into some random suite with God knows who.

Still, you tried to look on the bright side. Maybe it’ll be someone new. Someone chill. You didn’t have many close friends at Valemont beyond your tiny circle. People either hated you for how competitive you were… or kept their distance because of who you always ended up competing with.

Jungwon.

You hated even thinking his name. It left a nasty, bitter taste on your tongue.

Yang Jungwon was the most irritating person you’d ever met. He was smug, sharp-eyed, and just as brilliant as he was cocky. He had been your academic rival since day one, turning every class discussion into a battleground, every grade report into a war. You couldn’t stand the way he always seemed to beat you by one point, one second, one breath. And the worst part?

He loved it. It’s like he got off on that shit. Maybe he secretly creamed his pants everytime you had got a 98% whilst he had gotten a 99%.

Anyway, the new dorm assignment was tucked into your welcome packet. Room 204B. Top floor. North Building.

You didn’t recognize the name listed under yours, it was scrawled in messy pen, as if the assignment had been changed at the last minute. Whatever. You’d deal. You were tired and running purely on overpriced café espresso.

You finally made it up the three flights of stairs (because the elevators were still being “serviced”) and stood outside your new room, adjusting the strap of your duffel bag over your shoulder. You hesitated. It was stupid, but for some reason your heart thudded a little faster. New room. New person. New chaos.

You opened the door.

The first thing that hit you was the smell, crisp and bright. Citrus. Lemon, maybe orange, but not cheap like a body spray. It was fresh. Clean. Masculine. Fuck.

The second thing was the silence. Well, beside the running water that you could hear from behind the closed bathroom door.

The room was surprisingly spacious, two beds, two desks, floor-to-ceiling windows, and dark oak shelves lining the walls. On the right side of the room, there were already bags unpacked, a book or two stacked neatly on the desk, and a navy tie slung carelessly over the headboard. Am I rooming with a man?

Whoever your new roommate was… he was in the shower.

At least he smells good, you thought, flopping onto the bed. You stretched your legs out, letting your eyes close for a moment. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you’d luck out. Maybe-

The door creaked open.

Your eyes opened. Your heart dropped.

And there he was.

Yang fucking Jungwon.

Hair damp and curling at the ends, towel slung low on his hips, water still glistening on his collarbones. The steam rolled out around him like a fucking movie scene. He paused in the doorway, one hand running through his hair as he looked up, then froze when he saw you sprawled out on the bed.

The smirk came almost instantly.

“Wow,” he said, voice light and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d be this excited to see me.”

You shot upright like you’d been electrocuted. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow, sauntering over to his desk with no urgency, as if he didn’t just give you a heart attack. “This is my room.”

“No,” you snapped, grabbing your dorm assignment letter and shoving it toward him. “This is my room.”

He plucked the paper from your hand, eyes scanning the text. Then, impossibly, his grin widened.

“Hm, we’re roomies.”

You stared at him. “No. No, no, no—this has to be a mistake.”

He shrugged. “Take it up with the dean. I just moved in.”

“Are you kidding me, Jungwon? After all the shit you’ve pulled the last two years—”

“Hey,” he cut in, voice still maddeningly calm. “I didn’t ask for this either. You think I want to share a room with someone who practically throws daggers at me every time I raise my hand?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You raise your hand just to piss me off.”

“That’s only because your eye twitches when I beat you.”

“I don’t—!” you started, then caught yourself. Deep breath. You wouldn’t let him win this one. Not on day one.

You turned your back to him, busying yourself with unpacking your bag. The citrusy scent hit you again, it was coming from the body wash he must’ve used. God. Of course he smelled good. Of course.

You heard him move around behind you, the rustle of fabric as he pulled on a shirt, the quiet thud of drawers opening. The silence stretched too long.

Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he said it:

“You gonna be okay over there, roomie? Or should I sleep on the floor so you don’t combust?”

You glared at him over your shoulder. “Touch my side of the room and I’ll report you.”

He grinned. That stupid ass grin.

—

Two Weeks Later

You were starting to wonder if Dean Baek wanted to drive you into insanity.

Because it had only been fourteen days of coexisting with Jungwon, FOURTEEN, and you were already fantasizing about strangling him with one of his stupidly pressed navy ties.

He was everywhere. In the dorm, lounging on his side of the room like he owned it. In the shared bathroom, humming under his breath like he was in a damn commercial. And of course — always, always — in the classroom, where he thrived on pushing every single one of your buttons.

Three days ago in Literature, Professor Lee had asked for interpretations of the final line in Faust. You had barely gotten two words out before Jungwon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and interrupted with, “Actually, I think what she’s trying to say is—”

You didn’t remember what he said after that because you were too busy plotting his death via falling bookshelf.

Last Wednesday, your alarm didn’t go off, and by the time you rushed into Advanced Ethics, flustered and one minute late, the only open seat was, of course, beside him. He slid your coffee, half drunken by the way, across the desk with a smirk and said, “Thought you’d sleep through this one. I was gonna be generous but..I guess I got thirsty.” It was your coffee. Your own. He’d taken it from the dorm mini-fridge and claimed it was “fair punishment for waking him up.”

Just YESTERDAY, you opened your locker to find it reeking of orange peels. At least six of them stuffed inside. He walked by whistling, peeling another, and winked. “Citrus suits our dorm, no?”

You were seconds away from writing your own dorm reassignment request.

But today was the final straw.

Because you were in Philosophy (your best subject) and Professor Lee had posed a question to the class that should’ve been an easy win:

“Can true morality exist without consequence?”

Your hand shot up before she even finished.

But so did his.

And she, like the sadist she clearly was, gestured to both of you.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mister Yang. Let’s hear it.”

You inhaled sharply. “Of course it can. Morality is intrinsic, something we’re either born with or not. The moment you tie morality to consequences, it becomes performative.”

You felt good about it. Your answer was strong. Sharp. Professorial, even.

Until he tilted his head and said, all smug and thoughtful, “I disagree.”

You didn’t look at him. You refused. But you could feel the whole room lean in. Your jaw clenched as you continued to stare straight.

“If morality was intrinsic,” Jungwon continued, “we wouldn’t need laws. Or religion. Or guilt. We behave morally because we’re taught there will be consequences if we don’t. Without them, we’re just animals with uniforms.”

Laughter rippled through the room. You gritted your teeth.

“Not true,” you snapped, finally turning to glare at him. “That assumes humans are incapable of empathy unless threatened. Which is—”

“Optimistic,” he cut in. “And naive.”

“Self-righteous.”

“Delusional.”

“Enough!” Professor Lee’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. She pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly at her breaking point. “You two, after hours. Today. Classroom cleanup.”

Your mouth dropped open. “But—”

“I mean it,” she said, not looking at either of you. “I’d rather mop the floor with my own tears than listen to another one of your debates. Five o’clock. Don’t be late.”

Jungwon turned to you and flashed a grin. “Guess we’re spending more quality time together, sunshine.”

—

5:07pm | Classroom 3C

The mop bucket squeaked every time you moved it. The sun had dipped low enough to cast gold over the chalkboards, and the classroom was dead silent, save for your grumbling, and the faint sound of Jungwon lightly sweeping near the front.

It had been ten whole minutes without speaking. A record.

But of course, he broke it first.

“You missed a spot.”

You didn’t even look up. “You’re breathing too loud.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“Try less.”

Silence again. The tension wasn’t thick, not yet. Just a quiet undercurrent. A ripple. Barely there. Like the faint buzz of heat from a wire you weren’t supposed to touch.

He moved toward the windows, dusting the frame with one of the rags, sleeves rolled up, his posture relaxed and annoyingly perfect. His tie was gone, his shirt half unbuttoned, something he probably thought made him look casual and mature.

It did, unfortunately. Not that you’d ever say it out loud.

“You always have to win, huh?” you muttered, scrubbing aggressively at a chalk stain.

He didn’t look back. “So do you.”

You paused. Glanced up.

He was still facing the window. Light brushed over his cheekbone like a painting.

“I don’t need to win,” you said quietly. “I just don’t want to lose to you.”

That got his attention.

He turned, slowly, and for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

Your eyes met, and something passed between you. Not fire, not lightning, something slower. Like the curl of steam on a mug. Barely visible. But there.

You were still holding the rag. He was still holding the duster. It was silent. Close. Charged.

Then he dropped the cloth into the bucket and broke eye contact.

“Well,” he said lightly, brushing off his hands, “you’ll have to try harder.”

You blinked, and just like that, the tension dissolved. Gone. Like it was never there.

You hated how your skin still felt warm.

And then, just as if the universe decided to ruin the moment further, the door creaked open.

Professor Lee stepped in, a warm but slightly knowing smile on her face. Her eyes scanned the room, and she nodded approvingly.

“You both clean up well, hm? Your parents must be proud,” she remarked, a touch of amusement in her voice. “And since you seem so dedicated to debating each other at every opportunity, I’ve decided to give you an extra assignment, one specifically for you two.”

You tensed. “An assignment?”

“Yes.” Professor Lee folded her arms. “A written debate. Two thousand words each. One of you will argue in favor of morality being intrinsic — a natural, unchanging part of human nature. The other will argue that morality is a learned behavior, dependent on consequences and social conditioning.”

Your stomach dropped. “You can’t be serious—”

“Oh, I am,” she said lightly. “You’ll submit it next Monday, that gives you time to work on it over the weekend, yeah? And I expect thoughtful, properly cited arguments.” Her smile sharpened. “This should be quite the battle.”

Jungwon straightened, a spark of interest lighting his eyes. “Who gets which side?”

“I’ll leave that to you two. You’re both stubborn enough to sort it out.” Professor Lee’s voice softened, but her gaze stayed sharp. “And perhaps, in writing, you’ll learn something about understanding perspectives other than your own.”

With that, she gave a brisk nod and swept out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

You stood there, staring at the chalkboard, mind racing.

Two thousand words. On morality. With Jungwon.

“Can’t wait,” he murmured beside you, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to glare at him. “You’re not actually excited about this, are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He leaned back against the desk, his confidence radiating off him like heat. “Two thousand words is nothing for me.”

“God, you’re insufferable.”

“And you’re predictable.” He tilted his head. “Want me to pick the side that’ll make you lose your mind faster? Or do you want the honors?”

Your jaw clenched. “I’m taking intrinsic morality. Because it’s right.”

“Perfect. I’ll take the other.” He straightened, brushing off his sleeves and reaching for his bag. “Guess you’ve got a busy weekend ahead, sunshine.”

You watched him stroll toward the door, the weight of the assignment settling on your shoulders, not just because of the work, but because you knew he’d make every second of it a challenge.

And the worst part?

A tiny part of you didn’t hate the idea.

“See you at the dorm, roomie,” he called without looking back, pushing the door open and disappearing into the hallway.

You stood there, alone in the empty classroom, still clutching the rag, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t want to examine.

—

Sunday Night | 2:03 AM

Over the weekend, of course you procrastinated. But not because you went out with your friends or visited family like everyone else. No, every time you managed to type something on your laptop, you convinced yourself it was brilliant. Flawless. Until you neared that two-thousand word mark, and the crushing weight of self-doubt hit you. So you’d sigh, backspace, and start again.

Your work had to be perfect. It wasn’t just an assignment, it was a battle. A chance to outshine Jungwon. A chance to see his smug smile falter.

He was already done.

And he didn’t let you forget it.

“Done already,” he’d announced Saturday morning, lounging on his bed with his hands behind his head, his gaze never leaving you. “Guess the slow ones always win the race, right?”

You ignored him.

That evening, he’d leaned over your shoulder on the way to dinner. “Still writing? You know you can just copy mine. Not that you’d understand it.”

You glared. “I’d rather fail.”

“Could’ve guessed.” He grinned, tapping your screen. “Try shorter sentences. Might help with the whole ‘sounding smart’ thing.”

So here you were. Sunday night. 2:03 AM.

The world slept, along with the boy across from your bed, his even breathing a soft, constant reminder of his existence. Your small desk lamp cast a warm, faint glow, just enough to illuminate the silver keys of your laptop. You sat with your back pressed against the headboard, the cool sheets pooled around your waist, the device balanced on your plush thighs.

Every few minutes, you’d yawn, rubbing your half-lidded eyes. Blinking away the blur. Willing yourself to focus.

But the words blurred together, logic crumbling beneath exhaustion.

“You’re gonna give yourself a fucking aneurysm.”

The voice cut through the quiet, low and amused. Your gaze snapped up, and you found Jungwon sitting up, dark hair tousled and eyes sharp despite the late hour.

“Go back to sleep,” you muttered, fingers tapping out another hollow sentence. “Your assignment’s done, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” He stretched, arms lifting above his head, the thin fabric of his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach. “Just didn’t think I’d get a front-row seat to your breakdown.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, though the bite in your voice was dulled by exhaustion.

But he didn’t shut up. Of course he didn’t.

“Come on, sunshine.” He shifted, swinging his legs off the bed. “Your brain’s fried. Why not just admit defeat? I mean, I knew I’d win, but this is almost too easy.”

“Will you shut the fu—” You turned to glare at him, but another yawn cut you off, muffling the rest of your words. Your eyes watered slightly, the dull ache of exhaustion making your vision swim.

And for a moment, he was quiet.

Then his feet touched the floor, and he stood. The teasing curve of his lips softened, just barely, and he moved toward you, slow and almost careful.

“Jungwon, I’m not in the mood,” you warned, though it lacked any real force.

“I know,” he murmured, but his steps didn’t stop.

You stared as he approached your bed, watching his shadow stretch across the sheets. He leaned over you, one hand reaching out — and before you could protest, his fingers gently lifted the laptop off your thighs.

“Hey—”

He replaced it with his other hand, his warm palm resting against your skin, his touch featherlight but steady. The laptop clicked shut as he placed it on your nightstand.

“Let yourself take a break,” he whispered, his voice a touch lower. Closer.

Your breath hitched, your gaze snapping to his, but he was already leaning in, his weight shifting so his hand pressed just a bit more firmly against your thigh. His face was so close you could see the faint shadow of his lashes, the warm undertone of his skin.

His breath brushed your cheek. “Want me to help you stay awake?”

Your heart skipped. Your pulse thrummed against your ribs.

“W-What?” The word barely made it past your lips.

A slow smile curved at the edge of his mouth, something teasing and yet…not. “You heard me.”

Your pulse raced. Heat pooled low in your stomach, battling against the fog of sleep clinging to your mind.

“Jungwon…”

“Hm?” His thumb brushed gently against your thigh, the barest hint of friction.

His other hand rose, bracing against the headboard beside your head, caging you in. The space between you seemed to collapse, every breath shared. Your own fingers curled against the sheets, your chest tight.

“Don’t you want to win?” he whispered, his voice barely a murmur, warm against the shell of your ear. “Or are you giving up?”

Your pride flared, even through the haze of exhaustion. “I’m not—”

“Not what?” His thumb traced a slow, deliberate line against your thigh, the touch featherlight but burning all the same. His weight pressed against you just enough for you to feel the firmness of his palm, the subtle strength in his grip.

“I’m not giving up.” Your voice was meant to be steady, defiant. But it was breathy, almost a whisper, and you hated how it betrayed you.

“Really?” He leaned closer, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw, the faintest touch. “Because you look tired. Frustrated. Maybe you’re finally realizing you’re out of your league.”

A rush of irritation crashed against the heat, pushing past the fluttering in your chest. You turned your head, and suddenly your nose brushed against his, your breaths mingling in the faint glow of the lamplight.

“Out of my league?” you shot back, and despite the quiver in your voice, you met his gaze, dark, intense, a hint of something playful but with an edge. “If I’m out of my league, then why are you here? Why do you care?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, a slow, infuriating smirk. “Who says I care?”

“Then why aren’t you asleep?” You leaned forward just slightly, your forehead nearly brushing his. “Why are you in my bed, talking like—like—”

“Like this?” His lips ghosted over your cheek, the barest touch, before brushing lower, hovering just over the corner of your mouth. “Or like this?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, every nerve in your body strung tight. He wasn’t touching you anywhere but your thigh, his hand still resting there, warm and steady, and yet your entire body felt trapped in his gravity.

“You’re bluffing,” you whispered, though the words felt like a lie even as you spoke them.

“Am I?” His voice was a murmur, teasing, but the warmth in his gaze had darkened. “Because you’re the one still holding on.”

Your hands clenched against the sheets, you hadn’t even realized you were gripping them. Heat rushed to your cheeks, but you didn’t pull away.

Neither did he.

“Say it,” he murmured, the tip of his nose brushing yours, your lips just shy of touching. “Say you want to win. Say you want to beat me. Or maybe—” His voice dropped lower, his thumb pressing just a bit more firmly against your thigh. “Maybe you don’t want to win at all. Maybe you just want my attention.”

You felt the words like a spark against dry kindling, the embarrassment and defiance and heat all crashing together.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you whispered, but even that sounded weak, too breathless to be a real insult.

“Maybe.” His lips barely grazed yours, a touch so faint it sent a shudder through you. “But you still haven’t stopped me.”

You wanted to pull away. Wanted to shove him back, snap at him, prove that he didn’t affect you, that his arrogant, teasing words didn’t send your heart racing. That his touch wasn’t burning into your skin, leaving you breathless.

But you didn’t.

Because in that moment, you didn’t want him to stop.

And it was like he could sense it, the hesitation, the tangled mess of denial and longing.

“Should I help you?” he whispered again, his lips brushing yours with each syllable, your senses filled with the faint scent of citrus and warmth. “Help you stay awake?”

Your lashes fluttered. “Jungwon—”

The way you said his name, quiet, almost pleading, seemed to snap something in him.

His hand tightened on your thigh, his weight pressing just slightly more, the soft mattress dipping beneath you. He leaned in, your lips finally catching, warm and impossibly soft. Not a kiss, not yet, but a lingering touch, a barely-there connection.

His breath washed over you, warm and steady, and his voice dropped to a near growl. “Is that a yes?”

For a split second, the world narrowed, just the two of you, the faint lamplight, his touch. His mouth a whisper away from yours.

Your pride screamed at you to shove him away. But your body leaned forward instead, that ache of exhaustion forgotten, your lips brushing against his in the faintest answer.

“Yes.”

And then he kissed you.

Soft, at first. Like he was testing the waters, coaxing a response from you, but the moment your lips parted, his patience shattered.

The kiss deepened, slow but intense, his fingers curling against your thigh, his other hand braced against the headboard beside you. Your hands finally let go of the sheets, reaching up to tangle in his dark hair, pulling him closer.

His tongue swept against your lower lip, a quiet, hungry sound escaping his throat when you opened for him, and suddenly the exhaustion that had weighed on you for hours was gone, replaced with a fire, a desperation you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Jungwon shifted, his body pressing against yours, the thin sheet between you barely enough to keep the cool air from your skin. His hand slid from your thigh to your waist, tugging you just slightly closer, his mouth tracing a slow, heated path along your jaw.

“Still tired?” he whispered, his voice rougher now, tinged with something darker.

“Shut up,” you managed, but the words were lost in a gasp as his teeth grazed your earlobe.

“Thought so.” His laugh was a low, warm rumble, his mouth finding yours again, your breaths mingling, your world narrowing to the press of his body, the warmth of his touch, the quiet, insistent need growing between you.

His mouth moved against yours, a slow, deliberate dance, teasing, demanding, and then pulling back just enough to leave you breathless, only to capture your lips again. Your fingers curled tighter in his hair, your body arching instinctively into his touch.

But then, just as your senses seemed to drown in the warmth of him, his lips stilled. A slow, almost lazy pullback, just enough for you to feel the cool air slip between you.

He lingered for a second longer, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing warm against your cheek. And then, without a word, he leaned away.

You stared, still caught between a daze and disbelief, watching as he straightened. His touch left your waist, the warmth of his palm vanishing from your thigh, and you immediately missed it.

Before you could even begin to process it, he reached for your laptop. The silver device clicked open, and he carefully settled it back against your thighs, his knuckles brushing your skin with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch all over again.

He turned, sauntering back to his own bed, his smirk still painted across his face. The mattress creaked as he collapsed onto it, one arm draping over his eyes.

“Good luck, sunshine,” he called out, voice low and laced with smug amusement. “Hope my little pep talk helped you focus. Try not to drool over the keyboard.”

Your jaw tightened, embarrassment and frustration knotting in your chest. “You’re such a—”

“Genius? I know.” His laugh was muffled beneath his arm, but you could still see the faintest glimpse of that infuriating grin. “Just remember, two thousand words by tomorrow. Don’t stay up all night dreaming about me.”

You wanted to snap at him, to fire back something sharp, but the words stuck in your throat. Because the lingering taste of his kiss, the phantom heat of his hand on your thigh, all pulsed beneath your skin, stubbornly refusing to fade.

Gritting your teeth, you turned back to your laptop, fingers settling against the keyboard. The blank document blinked at you, but this time, your thoughts didn’t feel scrambled. Your pulse still raced, but words finally began to form.

Still, every few minutes, you found your gaze drifting to the boy sprawled lazily across his bed, his breathing slowing, the faint rise and fall of his chest far too calm for someone who had just set your world on fire.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus, but then another slow, aching pulse bloomed low in your stomach, heat crawling up your cheeks. You shifted slightly, pressing your thighs together beneath the laptop, the lingering tingles of his touch refusing to fade.

This was supposed to be a battle. A game of wits. A test of intelligence.

So why did it feel like you were already losing?

—

The Next Day

The crisp, sterile air of the classroom seemed heavier today, the weight of it pressing against your chest. Professor Lee’s voice was a distant hum, her stern gaze sweeping the room. But all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat, each thud reminding you of the weekend spent drowning in frustration and sleepless nights.

Jungwon had presented first, of course. He stood with that familiar, infuriating confidence, back straight, voice steady, each word falling like a perfectly placed chess move. His thesis was clear: morality was fluid, a product of circumstance and personal experience, a clever dance of logic and eloquence.

You hated that he made it look so easy. Hated how he didn’t even need to glance at his notes, hated the quiet awe in the room as he finished, a satisfied, almost bored smile tugging at his lips. But most of all, you hated that your eyes wouldn’t leave him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers tapped against the edge of the desk, a quiet restlessness only you seemed to notice.

Then it was your turn.

Your legs were stiff as you stood, fingers gripping the paper in your hands so tightly the edges crumpled. You spoke, your voice steady at first, arguing for an absolute morality, a sense of right and wrong that existed beyond circumstance, beyond mere perception. But the weight of his gaze burned against your skin, each word feeling like a struggle to breathe.

“Wait.” Byun Euijoo’s voice sliced through, and your heart plummeted. “Aren’t you just contradicting yourself? If morality is absolute, then why did you mention context?”

“I… I’m not contradicting myself,” you forced out, the calm in your voice slipping. “I’m saying that context affects perception, but—”

“So you agree with Jungwon?” Euijoo’s smile widened, and a few students chuckled. “I mean, if even you can’t keep your argument straight—”

“She’s not agreeing with me.” Jungwon’s voice was a blade, sharp and unyielding. The laughter died instantly. His gaze, steady and cold, never left Euijoo. “If you actually listened instead of trying to sound smart, you’d understand she’s arguing for a moral constant that’s interpreted differently. But I wouldn’t expect you to get that.”

The room fell silent, Euijoo’s face flushing with embarrassment. Your throat tightened, words caught somewhere between gratitude and humiliation. Because even though he defended you, he did it with the same calculated ease he did everything, like you were another problem to solve, another equation to balance.

“Continue, Y/N.” Jungwon’s voice was steady, but his gaze held something else, something you couldn’t decipher, and it terrified you.

So you continued, stumbling at first but regaining your composure. And when you finally finished, Professor Lee offered a brief nod, but it didn’t feel like a victory. Not when Jungwon leaned back in his chair, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at his lips.

—

The hallway was a blur, your thoughts racing faster than your feet could carry you. The cold metal of the doorknob bit into your palm, and you shoved it open, letting it swing shut behind you with a quiet thud.

Jungwon was already there, leaning against his desk, scrolling through his phone, his expression bored. The same face he always wore, calm, indifferent, untouchable. You hated it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you blurted, dropping your bag to the floor.

“Do what?” His tone was casual, but his eyes never left the screen.

“Humiliate Euijoo. Make me look like I needed your help.”

He shrugged, finally glancing up. “I didn’t do it for you.”

The words were a punch to your chest, sharp and cold. “Right. Of course you didn’t.”

“Relax.” He leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “If you weren’t so busy overthinking, you’d realize I just hate idiots.”

“Overthinking?” A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Is that what you think I do?”

“I don’t think. I know.” His gaze was piercing, a quiet challenge simmering beneath the surface. “You’re so obsessed with trying to be perfect, with trying to beat me, that you can’t even see straight.”

“I’m not obsessed with beating you!” Your voice was louder now, trembling. “I’m just.. I’m just trying to prove that I—”

“That you’re better than me?” He stood, his sudden closeness making your breath hitch. “Go on. Say it.”

“Stop twisting my words!”

“Oh, so now I’m twisting your words?” His voice was sharper, each word cutting like glass. “You’re the one who can’t decide what you want.”

“I know exactly what I want.”

“Do you?” He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing the faint light of the desk lamp. “Because one second you’re glaring at me like you want me dead, and the next…” His voice dropped, softer, almost a whisper. “The next, you’re looking at me like I’m the only thing you can’t figure out.”

Your throat tightened. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “But at least I’m honest. At least I’m not pretending.”

“Pretending?” You forced out a laugh, but it cracked, raw and broken. “Pretending that you don’t get under my skin? That I don’t hate how you make everything look so easy? Or that—”

“Or that you don’t like it when I kiss you?” His voice was a low, dangerous murmur now, his breath warm against your cheek.

Your pulse roared in your ears. “That was a mistake.”

“Was it?”

“Yes!” But the word was weak, a hollow lie.

“Fine.” His voice hardened, cold and sharp. “Then maybe I should kiss someone who’d actually appreciate it. Your friend Karina’s practically throwing herself at me every chance she gets.”

Your heart clenched painfully. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” He laughed, the sound bitter, like shattered glass. “What do you care? You hate me, right? I’m just the arrogant smart-ass who ruins everything for you.”

“I do hate you.”

“Good.” He took a step toward the door. “Then you won’t care if I walk right out and—”

But you didn’t let him finish.

Before you could think, before you could even breathe, you lunged forward, your fingers curling around his wrist, yanking him back.

And then your lips crashed against his.

There was no thought, no hesitation, just the overwhelming, suffocating ache in your chest, the burn in your veins. His lips were warm, shocked against yours for a heartbeat, before he responded. His phone clattered to the floor, forgotten.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the force of it sending you stumbling back. You didn’t care. You didn’t care that your breathing was uneven, that your heart was a wild, desperate drum in your chest. His mouth was hot, relentless, his touch bruising as his fingers dug into your hips.

Your back hit the edge of your bed, and his weight pressed against you, your knees giving way, the mattress beneath you giving a soft creak. His lips never left yours, a furious, hungry dance, his breath mingling with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, making a gasp slip past your lips.

“Jungwon—” His name was a whisper, a plea, a curse.

“I knew it,” he breathed against your mouth, his voice rough, almost desperate. “Knew you wanted this. Knew you were lying.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, but your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, your lips finding his again, silencing the words that cut too deep.

His weight settled over you, one knee pressing against the mattress beside your hip, the other nestled between your thighs, causing your pleated school skirt to rise a little. You could feel his muscular thigh being pressed flush against your throbbing, hot core. You gasped, his lips trailed down your jaw, a shiver racing down your spine as his teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck.

But then he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his breathing harsh, his eyes dark and wild.

“Should we continue?” His voice was low, strained, his lips swollen, his gaze burning.

The air was thick, the world blurring at the edges. Part of you screamed to shove him away, to end this madness. But your body betrayed you, your fingers still curled in his shirt, your lips tingling with the taste of him.

“Y/N?” His voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

And you didn’t know how to answer. Because you didn’t want to lose this feeling, this fierce, aching, desperate hunger. But you were also terrified of what would happen if you let it go any further.

“Jungwon…” Your voice was a whisper, your chest rising and falling beneath his.

“Please. Please, Y/N. I can’t restrain myself.. please tell me you want this.” Jungwon’s voice was strained, his words came out through clenched teeth.

A quiet, shuddering breath slipped from your lips. “Yes.”

The second the word left you, his mouth was on yours again, rough, hungry, almost desperate. His kiss was a fever, a wild clash of teeth and tongues, his hands gripping your waist like you might disappear if he let go.

You were drowning in him, in the heat of his touch, in the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, in the way his lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, leaving a scorching path down your neck.

“Jungwon—” His name was a gasp, swallowed by his mouth against your skin. But he didn’t slow. If anything, he grew hungrier, his hands tugging your school shirt higher, the fabric bunched beneath your arms before he impatiently yanked it over your head, tossing it aside, revealing your bra-covered breasts.

“Look at you,” he breathed, his voice rough, almost disbelieving. His gaze raked over you, the bare skin of your chest rising and falling beneath him, your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen. “You pretend you hate me… but you’re already so..desperate.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, but your voice was a breathless whine, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Make me.” His lips were on you again, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, your hips, your thighs. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, and without warning, he tugged it down along with your panties, allowing the cool air to kiss your heated skin.

A needy whimper slipped from you, your thighs instinctively pressing together, but his hands were there, parting them, his mouth leaving a burning trail down your stomach.

“Jungwon—“

But he was already there, his lips pressing to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers brushed against your core, a light, teasing touch that had your hips arching, a desperate gasp falling from your lips. As his fingers left, a string of your juices kept you two connected.

“Already this wet?” His voice was a low, mocking murmur, but there was a tremor beneath his teasing tone, his own desperation betraying him. “And you were going to act like you didn’t want me.”

“Stop teasing me—” Your voice was a broken, desperate whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

“I’m not teasing.” His lips traced the soft, sensitive skin of your thigh, his teeth grazing, a quiet, needy sound slipping from you. “I just want you to beg for me.”

“I—” Your voice broke, your pride crumbling beneath the heat of his touch, his fingers slipping against you, slow, agonizing circles. “Please. Pleasee, Jungwon—”

“That’s better.”

His mouth was on you then, hot and wet, his tongue tracing over your clit, each slow, deliberate movement sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your hips bucked against him, a desperate, broken moan tearing from your lips.

“Please— please, don’t stop—”

“Greedy, aren’t you?” His voice was a low, muffled whisper against your skin, but he didn’t pull away, if anything, his pace quickened, his tongue flicking, his lips sucking gently, his fingers slipping into you, one, then two, a gasp caught in your throat.

“Jungwon—!”

Every slow, curling motion of his fingers, every flick of his tongue had you spiraling, your thighs trembling, your breath a desperate, broken mess. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, your back arching, his name a frantic chant on your lips.

“You taste so good,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost reverent. “So sweet. So perfect.”

Your hands tightened in his hair, another desperate, breathless cry slipping from you, the tension coiling tighter, tighter—

But then he pulled away, and a sob of frustration escaped you, your thighs instinctively trying to close, but his hands were there, holding them apart, his dark, wild eyes meeting yours.

“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice strained, his breathing just as ragged as yours. “I want you to come when I’m inside you.”

You were already a mess, panting, trembling, a desperate, whiny whimper slipping from your lips as his mouth crashed against yours again. You could taste yourself on his lips, but you didn’t care.

His clothes were a mess of fabric hitting the floor, his bare skin warm against yours, his body pressing you into the mattress, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Tell me you want me,” he breathed, his forehead pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your cheek.

“I want you,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “I want you. Please—”

The desperation in your voice shattered whatever restraint he had left.

His hips pressed against yours, and then he was pushing into you, slow, almost painfully slow, a deep, shuddering groan slipping from his lips, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

“Oh—” The stretch was overwhelming, your body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Jungwon—”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost desperate. “God, you feel so—”

His hips began to move, slow, deep thrusts that stole the breath from your lungs, his lips finding yours again, his kiss a perfect, dizzying mix of heat and hunger.

“Faster, please, faster—”

A strained laugh slipped from him, his teeth grazing your jaw. “So needy.” But he didn’t make you wait, his pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours, the desperate, wet sound of your bodies colliding filling the room, your name a breathless groan on his lips.

“Mphm, pulling me in so good—“

Your thighs tightened around him, each thrust sending a shock of pleasure through you, your gasps and whimpers mingling with his ragged breaths.

“Look at you,” he whispered, his voice a low, rough rasp. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

“Jungwon— I can’t— I’m—”

“I’ve got you.” His hand found yours, his fingers threading through yours, pinning your hand against the pillow, his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, deeper. “Let it happen baby, let go for me.”

And with one final, desperate thrust, the tension snapped.

Your vision blurred, a shuddering, broken cry tearing from your lips, your body trembling beneath him, his name a frantic, gasped whisper.

Jungwon’s pace grew frantic, his breathing a ragged mess, his lips finding yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. And then his body shuddered, his grip on you tightening, his forehead resting against yours, a low, shuddering moan slipping from him as he followed you over the edge.

He fucked himself into you, rolling his hips as he pushed his white seed further and further. He flooded your womb, wanted you to feel nothing but him.

Silence settled, heavy, breathless, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, golden light over your tangled, sweat-slicked bodies.

His head fell against your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck, his lips brushing a lazy, almost tender kiss there.

“Are you okay?” His voice was a quiet, almost hesitant whisper, his fingers tracing gentle circles against your hip.

“I—” You didn’t know what to say, your mind still a dizzy, hazy blur.

But his fingers stayed gentle, his lips brushing against your shoulder, his breath slowing.

—

From That Day On..

It was like a switch had flipped. One taste wasn’t enough. One touch wasn’t enough. They were like two predators starving for each other, and the academy’s walls became a labyrinth of stolen moments.

In the dimly lit corridors between classes, yoyr back would slam against the cool stone wall, Jungwon’s mouth already on yours, his hands slipping beneath your uniform shirt, desperate. His whispered curses, your bitten-back moans, dangerous music that echoed off the empty halls.

Study hall became a battlefield of restraint. He’d watch you from across the room, his fingers gripping his pen too tightly, jaw clenched. And the second the instructor’s back was turned, you’d feel his shoe brushing against your ankle, a silent, electric promise.

Before morning lectures, you two would sneak away behind the storage sheds, you pressed against the rough wooden wall, Jungwon’s lips dragging down your neck, hands hiking up your skirt. After classes, you’d disappear behind the old library, his tie pulled loose, your voice muffled by his palm as you whimpered his name.

And even during class, God, you were reckless. His knee pressed between your legs beneath the shared desk, your breath coming fast as you tried to focus on the board. His quiet, wicked chuckle in your ear when you squirmed, the ghost of his fingers brushing against your thigh.

You were insatiable. Addicted.

But nothing compared to now. The empty classroom you’d slipped into was bathed in the golden light of the afternoon. The door was barely shut before Jungwon’s lips crashed against yours, a feral hunger in the way his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Keep quiet for me,” he whispered against your lips, the dark, teasing lilt in his voice making your knees weak.

He pushed you back against the teacher’s desk, his body pressing into yours, one thigh wedged between your legs. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan as his mouth traveled down your neck, leaving burning kisses.

But then—

The door swung open.

“Yeah hold on, I think I left my—”

Your heart nearly stopped, and you froze, wide eyes locking with Jungwon’s. But instead of pulling away, his smirk only deepened.

“Stay still,” he breathed against your ear, his voice a low, wicked whisper. His hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers grazing your thigh, his touch torturously slow, easing up toward your heat.

Your breathing hitched, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you tried to maintain your composure, biting down hard on your lip to keep silent.

“…Fuck.. I swore it was here.” The voice was closer now, footsteps approaching the front of the classroom.

Jungwon’s fingers pressed further over your clothed clit, the thin fabric of your panties barely doing a thing to the featherlight touch that had your thighs trembling, your entire body screaming at you to move, to moan, to cling to him, but you couldn’t. Not without being caught.

You breath came faster, your chest heaving, and Jungwon’s mouth found your neck again, his tongue tracing slow, heated circles just below your ear.

“You’re shaking,” he teased, his words a mere breath against your skin. “Does it turn you on, Y/N? The thought of getting caught, hm?”

The person at the front of the classroom sighed. “Guess it’s not here.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, tears prickling as the tension twisted inside. You could feel Jungwon’s quiet, muffled laughter against your skin, his fingers now tracing agonizing circles against your inner thigh, just barely avoiding where she needed him most.

The door finally creaked shut, the footsteps fading down the hall.

But Jungwon didn’t stop.

“You did so well,” he murmured, finally letting his hand slide higher, his lips capturing yours again as you gasped, half in relief, half in desperate, pent-up need. “But we’re not done yet.”

—

And here you both were again, in your shared dorm room. The tension from your bickering earlier in class still lingered in the air, but it had twisted into something else entirely. Jungwon leaned back in his desk chair, his head tipped against the backrest, sweat glistening at his hairline. His fingers twisted in your hair, holding it back, keeping it out of your face as you knelt between his thighs.

His hips bucked, unsteady, his cock pushing deeper into the wet heat of your mouth. Your jaw ached, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but the desperate, breathless sounds he made only spurred you on. His voice was rough, a low, shuddering groan escaping him.

“Fuck, gonna cum down your pretty throat, sunshine.” His words were broken, almost pleading, but there was a smug edge to them, his gaze fixed on the sight of your cheeks hollowing around him. Your spit slicked his length, pooling at his base. “Would you like that? Me forcing my seed down your throat?”

You couldn’t answer, not with your mouth full, but you hummed, the sound vibrating around him. His grip tightened, a low, trembling curse falling from his lips.

“I’m cumming—fuck, I’m cumming—” His hips jerked, pushing forward until his pelvis met your lips, his release flooding your mouth, hot and thick. He held you there, his breathing ragged, thrusting lazily as he rode out his high.

You tapped his thigh quickly, a silent plea, and immediately his hold loosened. You pulled back, gasping for air, a string of spit and his release connecting your lips to his cock. Coughs racked your chest as you tried to catch your breath, but he was already leaning forward, his touch gentler now, fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away your tears.

“Get up,” Jungwon murmured, his voice softer now, but still commanding. He didn’t wait for you to comply. His hands slid under your arms, pulling you to your feet with a surprising strength. The room spun for a second, but then you were in his arms, your knees unsteady as he walked you backward.

The backs of your thighs met the edge of his bed. He guided you down, his mouth finding yours, the kiss messy and heated, a mix of need and something more possessive. His hands wandered, pushing the fabric of your panties down, his weight settling over you as he climbed on top, his lips never leaving yours.

“Still so fucking needy,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your lower lip, his voice dripping with a teasing warmth, but his touch was anything but. It was greedy, desperate, his fingers tracing your thighs, his knee pressing between your legs.

“You didn’t get enough, did you?”

His knee pressed between your thighs, spreading them apart, and you couldn’t stop the needy whimper that slipped from your lips. Jungwon chuckled, the sound low and teasing, but his voice was rougher now, hunger darkening his gaze.

“Look at you, sunshine,” he whispered against your mouth, his fingers trailing downward, tracing the soft skin of your inner thigh. “So eager. Did I fuck your pretty mouth too well? Got you all worked up?”

You shivered beneath him, your hands clutching at the front of his shirt, desperate for something to ground you. He leaned in, his lips trailing along your jaw, down the curve of your neck, each kiss sending heat rushing through you. His teeth grazed your pulse, a soft, teasing nip that had you gasping.

“Jungwon,” you breathed, barely recognizing your own voice, so needy and breathless.

“I know, sunshine.” His touch slid higher, fingertips brushing against your dripping folds, and he smirked against your skin. “Already soaked. You liked it that much?”

Your face burned, but shame was the last thing on your mind. You rolled your hips, pressing into his touch, chasing the friction. He chuckled again, but this time there was a hint of something darker, something possessive.

“Don’t get shy now,” he murmured, his lips finding yours again, his kiss slow and heated. His fingertips dipped inside your entrance and a sharp gasp tore from your throat. But he only pulled them back out, continuing circling. “I want to hear you, sunshine. Want to feel you come undone for me.”

His fingers teased you, slow and deliberate, tracing delicate circles that left you trembling beneath him. His other hand found yours, guiding it up above your head, his fingers lacing with yours, pinning you down. His grip was firm, a silent reminder of just how much control he had, but his touch was anything but cruel. It was maddening, achingly slow, every movement coaxing desperate, breathy whimpers from you.

“Please,” you whispered, barely able to think, your body arching beneath him.

“Please what?” He dragged his fingers through your slickness, teasing your entrance, but never giving you what you needed. “Use your words, sunshine.”

“Please—need you. Need you so bad.”

He smiled against your mouth, a satisfied hum vibrating against your lips. “There we go.”

In one smooth movement, he slipped two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit, and you cried out, your body arching beneath him. He moved with a slow, steady rhythm, curling his fingers just right, each thrust coaxing sweet, desperate sounds from you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a soothing, wicked whisper against your ear. “Such a good girl. Taking me so well.”

Your breathing quickened, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure, the heat building with every movement of his fingers, every gentle press of his thumb. His lips were at your ear, his voice a dark, soothing melody.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “All mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your fingers tightening in his shirt, clinging to him.

“Good.” His lips trailed down your neck again, sucking a dark mark into your skin, a brand of his own. “Then come for me. Let me feel it.”

His words sent you over the edge. Pleasure crashed through you, your body tensing beneath him, your cries muffled against his shoulder as you shuddered in his hold. He didn’t let up, coaxing you through every wave of your release, his touch gentle, his voice a soothing murmur.

When your breathing finally began to slow, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his fingers slipping free of your soaked folds. He brought them to his lips, his dark eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Sweet as ever, sunshine.”

Jungwon’s tongue swept over his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, and the hunger in his gaze only seemed to deepen. He leaned back slightly, hands sliding to your thighs, his touch firm but teasing. His lips found yours again, the kiss rough and greedy, his teeth grazing your lower lip.

“You’re so desperate for me, sunshine,” he whispered, the words dripping with smug satisfaction. “All that attitude in class, but look at you now. Barely keeping it together.”

You whimpered against his mouth desperatly. He laughed softly, the sound warm against your lips, but there was a rough edge to it now, his self-control starting to fray.

“Impatient too,” he murmured.

He pulled back just enough to unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off, the toned lines of his chest and shoulders revealed beneath the soft light of the room. Your gaze wandered over him, and he smirked, catching you staring.

“Like what you see?”

You didn’t have the breath to answer, especially when he leaned down again, his lips trailing along your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that sent shivers racing down your spine. His hands slipped beneath your blouse, pushing it up, and he wasted no time, his mouth finding the sensitive skin just above your chest, nipping, sucking, marking you.

His fingers tugged the fabric higher, his touch rough but never careless, and soon your blouse joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His gaze swept over you, hungry, possessive, his tongue brushing his lips.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice lower now, thick with want. His hand slid down between your thighs again, his fingers tracing over your soaked folds, and he chuckled. “Still so wet for me. Pathetic, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, hips arching into his touch, and his teasing smile faded just slightly, his pupils dark and blown wide with desire.

But when you tried to turn your head, the lingering bite of your pride making you look away, his grip tightened, forcing your gaze back to his.

“You keep trying to beat me,” he murmured, his voice a dangerous, silken whisper. “But you can’t even stop thinking about me.”

His words cut through the haze of your need, shame and longing twisting together in your chest, but your body betrayed you. His fingers pressed harder against your soaked core, and you trembled, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.

“Admit it, sunshine,” he taunted, leaning in, his lips ghosting over yours. “All that defiance—just a cover. All you really want is for me to ruin you.”

You shook your head, a shaky gasp slipping free, but it was pointless, the ache between your legs giving you away. He was already hard again, the sight of your flushed skin and desperate little whimpers clearly driving him mad.

He settled between your legs, his tip brushing against your entrance, and you shuddered, a desperate plea escaping your lips.

“Please, Jungwon.”

“Please what?” He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice a low, teasing whisper. “Want me to fuck you, sunshine? Want me to ruin you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a gasp. “Need you.”

His control snapped. With one smooth, forceful thrust, he buried himself inside you, a rough groan tearing from his throat. The stretch was intense, your body adjusting around him, and his hands found your wrists, pinning them above your head against the mattress.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his forehead pressing against yours, his voice shaking just slightly. “So tight, so fucking perfect.”

His hips pulled back, only to snap forward again, a harsh rhythm that had you gasping beneath him. He set a brutal pace, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing through you, your cries muffled against his mouth as he claimed your lips again. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, his breath hot against your cheek, but his composure was crumbling, his thrusts growing faster, more desperate.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless. “Taking me so well. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the sound he made was almost a growl, his grip on your wrists tightening. His name fell from your lips in broken, pleading gasps, and he shuddered, his rhythm faltering for a second.

“Gonna make you cum again, sunshine,” he promised, his thumb finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast, rough circles. “Wanna feel you squeeze me. Want you to scream my name.”

The pleasure built like a fire, your body arching beneath him, your cries growing louder, desperate. His thrusts grew erratic, his breathing harsh against your ear.

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Now.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body tensing beneath him, a sharp cry ripping from your throat. Your walls clenched around him, and he swore, his hips slamming into you, losing his rhythm as he chased his own release.

“Fuck, fuck—” His voice broke, his hands gripping your wrists almost painfully, his release spilling inside you, hot and thick. He rode out his high, his movements slowing, his breath ragged against your skin.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your shared breathing, the heat of his body pressing against yours. Then, slowly, he let your wrists go, his touch gentler now. He leaned back slightly, his gaze meeting yours, the teasing smugness gone, replaced by something softer, almost dazed…

[aplainmeresimp]

In the Blue Hours of the Morning: Chapter 1 - Compete Against the Stars

Summary: You're in your final semester at Piltover’s University, and in your endeavors to revise one of your final papers, you meet Professor Heimerdinger's assistant. He’s quick. Intelligent. And surprisingly charismatic. A last minute friendship forms as you ask for his help to have the best chance to graduate on time and become a scientist yourself. Things are looking up for your studies…Until your stress mixes with some unpredictable feelings.

Story tags/warnings: pre-season 1, no use of y/n or real world language, strangers to friends to lovers, fluffy, acts of service as viktors love language, academic weapon reader, viktor pov chapters, sky pov chapter, eventual nsfw. unrequited love towards sky :( random oc created for the sole purpose of being a side character. not a song fic, chapters names are just inspired by song lyrics. the only thing viktors insecure about is him being an assistant, he knows he’s fine.

Word Count (Chapter 1): 2.3k

Next Chapter ->

Chapter 1 of 21

Read on AO3

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Four years. Four years of university were almost over. And yet there wasn’t time or room to slack off, especially not now. You needed to turn in final projects, write essays, and take your final exam. Not take it… Ace it. Demolish it.

Every day was almost always the same. You woke up, dressed yourself, and adjusted your vest with its two pairs of diamonds, and headed to class. No matter how tired you were, you had one goal in mind: success.

And damn, you were getting there.

You were among the top three students in your class, always shifting between number one, two, and three. It hadn’t been easy, especially in science and engineering. One doesn’t make it that far without a system. You had a list of rules for yourself:

Do the homework the day it’s assigned.

Study the homework.

Read ahead.

Borrow books to read more about every subject. 

Attend every class. No absences even if you were sick.

No distractions. No parties, no leisure time if an assignment is due. Work first. Always.

Annotate everything that the professors say. Even the small comments.

Study at least three days before a test.

And the most important one:

Don’t let anyone see you fail. Not once.

Perfection was key. Inside and outside of the classroom alike. 

Except… it was draining; you couldn’t deny that. This wasn’t in your nature. Maybe it wasn’t in anyone’s nature to try so much. You cherished the moments when you rested in the middle of the gardens in spring, with the birds softly chirping and the grass rustling in the wind. Nothing was better than being right in the middle of the semester, with nothing to do and nothing to turn in. You’d go out to lunch with some friends, maybe read a book or something. Whatever it was, the choice was yours.

That bliss would come again, and soon. Just as soon as you pushed through for one final time to earn your third pair of diamonds.

You could not fail. Not when your parents worked their tails off to leave the undercity and raise you in Piltover. Even when they were still alive and well, they always told you to be the best for yourself. They screwed that into your head ever since you were little. More so when they both got sick from the fumes they had inhaled their whole life. It was the fate of a large chunk of people living in the underbelly of Piltover. Especially people like you who were born in the lower parts of the entresol level. Your parents managed to scrape together enough to rent a small shack on the outskirts of town near the cold and uninviting harbor. Having daily access to sea air over toxic fumes gave you much better odds. 

Seeing them cough up blood, lose mobility, and losing them to illness gave you the final push to be self-sufficient.  You got into Piltover’s University yourself. You filled out the dormitory paperwork so you wouldn’t sleep on the streets like they once had to. You applied for weekend jobs to feed and clothe yourself during university.

You did that. You, your perseverance, and nobody else. 

And gods be damned if anyone thought you would slack off a month before the final exam. 

The long corridors went on and on as you swept through them, trying to keep your papers in your notebook. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hope he’s in his lab right now. You thought.

You needed Professor Heimerdinger to look over your paper for one of your classes. Normally, you wouldn’t have asked for his help, knowing he had much more important matters at hand. But he had offered help to anyone in one of his classes you took. So, you had to take his word for it. You didn’t have the time to guess if you had done the homework right. 

It was due in two days. If there was something wrong, you needed to know. Stat. These kinds of equations were so unforgiving when you put a decimal one space more than it needed to be. With sleep deprivation, any mistake was possible.

Once you made it to his lab, you straightened your vest, sleeves, and organized your pages. Then, with three swift knocks, you made your presence known. The professor's voice echoed through the lab and grew closer with little tip-taps of his feet. The door opened inward, and you looked down. 

There he was, short as always and his fur covered in dust. “My! If it isn’t one of my best pupils! Come, come. Come in!” He stepped aside to let you in with a smile. Sheepishly, you skulked in, having never entered his lab. You followed him toward the back of the room to resume what he was doing. It looked like he was organizing and cleaning up the lab. Papers lay scattered, and screws were sprinkled all over the place.

It was amazing. 

Its walls stood tall with elevated bookshelves filled to the brim with books. At the far left were three large windows that would let the incoming sunset in. So many gadgets and contraptions were everywhere, big and small. Some finished, some open and in the middle of repairs. And by Janna, the sketches. Endless notes and sketches of invention ideas pasted on walls.

“Apologies for the mess! You know how it is with the end of the semester. Cleaning out old ideas in favor of new ones!” You could have looked at it all day until the professor brought you back to the moment, “what can I help you with today?”

“Oh, well. In the last class of this semester, you said if we ever needed help with anything, we could come to you for help, right?” You pulled the papers out of your notebook. “And I need it. I really do—"

The soft hum of the lab door stopped your words and another student waltzed inside in a hurry.

“Professor Heimerdinger! I’m here about the funds for the library improvements. The student body wants to hand over the list of expenses to you and the council so we can get approval.”

“Oh yes! How exciting! Come! Come in!” Professor Heimerdinger skipped past you and took the stack of papers from the student. He skimmed through them and looked back at you. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

“It’s fine," you said, putting your hand up. "I can wait."

“Thank you, I was waiting for this visit– Actually, let me call my assistant." He looked up from the papers and called out. “Viktor! Could you assist me here for a minute?” He smiled at you from below. Professor Heimerdinger was your favorite by far; he was always so kind. His short stature likely contributed to the friendliness he gave off.

Wait. Is someone else in the lab?

Soft metal clinks came from the hidden part of the professor’s lab along with some footsteps. Your ears searched for the sound’s origin, but your eyes beat you to it. They landed on a tall, slender stranger with nicely combed brown hair along his angular face.  The stranger seemed pretentious and intimidating with his golden cane wrapped in fine maroon leather.

Until he spoke.

“Good afternoon,” he said with a softness as he passed his cane to his other hand to greet you. Your mind looked through its catalog of faces. Had you seen him before? It wasn’t a face you could recall on the spot. Maybe you’d know if you hadn’t sequestered yourself in your studies for the past four years.

“Have you met?” The professor asked.

“I don’t think so.” You shook his hand firmly as the professor said your name to him. 

Professor Heimerdinger handed him your seven equation-filled pages. “This is Viktor, my assistant. My right hand, if you will!” Viktor seemed to count the pages as the professor continued. “I’m going to have him look through your paper, if it’s alright with him. And you!”

Another student checking your homework made you feel nervous. What if he missed a crucial error? A thousand what-ifs filled your head and you pushed them out with one logical thought.

If he’s the professor’s assistant, he must know what he’s doing, right?

Between all your mental chaos, you gave a simple answer. “That’s fine by me.”

“It’s not a problem, Professor. I remember this project.” Viktor straightened the papers out, "it'll be a refresher.” 

As soon as he said the word 'refresher', you noticed his three sets of diamonds on his vest. It meant only one thing. 

He had already graduated.

Not an upperclassman. This is going to be so embarrassing if it’s wrong. The thought ate at you. You hoped it didn't show on your face.

“Oh goody! I’ll be done in a minute.” He hurried over to the student.

Viktor’s head tilted towards the back of the lab. "We can sit if you’d like.” A small table with four chairs near the tall windows waited for you, covered in papers like the rest of the room.

“Yeah, that works.” You followed him, still gazing at the immensity of the lab. So many books for the professor to have on hand. One could only dream.

Arriving at the table, you reached for the chair in front of you, but Viktor had placed his hand on it.

I should’ve waited for him to pick a chair first.

He pulled it out and motioned for you to sit.

Oh. 

You sat and adjusted your vest. “Thank you.” 

He soon followed, placing his cane on the side of the table and clearing his throat. Without another word, he started looking through it. His gaze focused on the problem at the top. He looked intimidating again with his thick brows cinched together. 

Your eyes wandered through the silence. Well, almost silence. The shuffling of your project paired with the professor’s voice made your nerves skyrocket. Still, you had to sit still like nothing was wrong. Otherwise, you’d be pacing around the room with your arms crossed. You decided to break the quietness. 

Be polite.

“Thanks for looking through my project." You huffed, "I’m about to graduate and I don’t want to repeat the class. Ever.” 

No, seriously. That was the worst class you’d ever been through. Sleepless nights and dark eye bags were the prize every student had after taking the class. Professor Penmark was the filter for graduation. Condescending to absolutely everyone, so it wasn't personal towards you.

“It’s no problem. I graduated a year ago. I still remember this class. That teacher isn’t lenient, huh?"

“Not at all.” You chuckled, still keeping your posture rigid and proper.

His face relaxed, “I remember how the class gasped when he said that this homework–project-thing… was going to decide if you passed or not." Then his eyes widened. "Fun.” He kept flipping through the pages quite swiftly. Was he even looking through it? “Looks like he made it more complicated this year. Not impossible, but—" Viktor looked up. “How long did this take you?”

“Six hours. With breaks.”

“Hm.”

Viktor went back to the pages and looked intimidating again because your fate of passing the class was in his hands. A few short hums, or huffs, came from him. That made you worried. A hum or a huff could only mean one thing: a mistake.

Let’s say it was wrong. That meant it was back to square one. The teacher gave you three days to complete it. You were already one day down. If it took you six hours and it was wrong this first time, you had another seven tries at the most to try again. You sat there, praying to whatever would listen that your calculations had been right, with every symbol correctly switched and—

“So, what’s wrong with it?” His voice cut off your train of thought.

All you could muster up was a measly, 'what?' 

“You brought it here to fix any mistakes, no?” He looked up from your papers, looking terribly confused. More confused than you, actually.

“W-wait. Is it correct? The whole thing? Are you sure?” 

There’s no way.

“Well... Yes. What’s the issue?”

You didn’t know what to feel. Satisfaction, anxiousness, relief? You figured out the problem on the first try? Clear? No repeats, a clean sweep?

“No, that’s what I wanted to know, if it had no mistakes,” you took the paper when he handed it back to you. “Oh my—I can finally rest.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the professor’s voice became louder, “yes, very well! I’ll make sure to let them know! Check the corrections I gave you and come back!” He escorted the person out and came back to you both in little steps, "oh, I’m terribly sorry, you two. I was caught up in some council duties, but now that that’s out of the way, did Viktor look over your project?”

You sprung from your chair, “yes! It’s done. No mistakes.” 

“It’s to be expected; you have a knack for numbers!” He looked up at Viktor. "And with a talent like this boy's, it’s inconceivable that it’s wrong!”

"It never hurts to be extra sure." Your hands kept fidgeting with your papers.

“I suggest turning it in right now! You don’t want to end up forgetting!” The professor walked to the door as you followed. Thankfully, the project was over and completely correct. Now you could finally take a small break.

Wait.

How could you forget to say goodbye?

How rude of me.

You turned on your heel and waved, "it was nice to meet you!"

He was already standing up before you called to him. For a second, he was taken aback. 

Then, he replied. "Likewise."

[shycoconutt]

high school sweetheart bokuto! who has only ever had crushes on celebrities before he met you. the day you got assigned to be partners for the semester in gym class (which he took even though he was exempt due to volleyball) was the day he went home and tore his bikini-clad posters off the wall and threw away his magazine stash under his bed. he doesn’t need to live in a boyish fantasy anymore, because you are real.

high school sweetheart bokuto! who loves to show off his athleticism. whether it’s tennis, frisbee golf, badminton, swimming, or baseball, he always comes out on top and drags you right there with him. you aren’t the most coordinated of the bunch, but you are competitive and he loves it. seeing you get fired up over a successful play mostly led by him had him reeling. on the train ride home, he finds himself replaying your small “woo”s and “yes bokuto!”s in his head with a stupid grin on his face.

high school sweetheart bokuto! who carries you to the nurse's office bridal-style after you fall and twist your ankle while running laps, cursing himself for not keeping a closer eye on you. while waiting for the nurse to come back with an ice pack, he notices the scrapes on your knees and takes it upon himself to take a warm, wet washcloth to clean off any dirt and debris that settles in the wounds. as you begin to sniffle as he kneels before you, he lifts your chin with a delicate finger, tilting his head in questioning. “i was on track to set a new personal record,” you manage to squeak out with a shy smile. after a pause in disbelief, bokuto’s howling laughter rings throughout the school halls.

high school sweetheart bokuto! who, for the week you are sitting out due to your injury, makes it his mission to make you laugh every single day. during dodgeball, he purposely lets himself get nailed in the face. during tennis, which he plays solo as he refuses to play with anyone else, he gives the loudest, most obnoxious grunts he can muster. during baseball, he hits an impressive triple but runs the bases in the opposite direction. every time he looks over to catch the way your shoulders shake and your eyes crinkle, he feels like a man without water finding a river in the desert.

high school sweetheart bokuto! who is absolutely awestruck to find you up in the stands at his latest volleyball match. going up to serve, right as he is about to start his routine, he hears your beautiful voice as you call out, “bokuto, nice serve!” from above. without skipping a beat, he tosses the ball up in the air, turns his head slightly to give you a wink, and slams the ball to the other side of the court. after hitting a serve that was more like a backcourt spike, he points to you on the sidelines, dedicating his service ace to you. little did he know then that every successful receive, set, spike, and serve from then on out would belong to you.

high school sweetheart bokuto! who finds you after the match and insists on walking you home, draping his jacket over your shoulders to shield you from the cool spring night. without saying anything, you pull out your old mp3 player from your bag and offer him an earbud which he takes eagerly. shoulder to shoulder, you walk the empty streets, bokuto humming along with the music. overtaken by the buzzing atmosphere, your proximity, and an old r&b song he thought he had forgotten about, he snakes his arm around your waist and intertwines his other hand with yours, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. as you shriek in laughter while gripping onto him for dear life, bokuto vows to dedicate the rest of his days to chasing this feeling of pure joy with you.

a/n: i just had to write something for our sweet bokuto. i think i am going to continue this as a series because it's just soooo cute! this is dedicated to my high school sweetheart who i met in gym class sophomore year. we're celebrating 10 years this weekend! <3

[twistedmafiaau]

𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴?

You entered the lounge all dolled up on your prettiest dress. The dim lights hid your nervous blush very well — you were about to meet your favorite after all, who could blame you? 

The head waiter with their polite smile approached you and asked:

“You wish to be seated with Taipan correct?”

As you nodded they gently led you to your assigned table, him waiting for you while sipping a glass of his favourite alcoholic beverage.

Ready to start the night?

The silence engulfed your table like a clout, drowning even the lively chatter and soft music playing in the background. Neither you or Jamil spoke a word, making the air tense and awkward.

You finally managed, after weeks of waiting, to have a table at the very exclusive lounge that the mysterious person named Boss put to service for a whole bunch of people to use. The moment you saw Taipan was an option you immediately applied to get a chance to sit with him — when you mentioned it to him even Jamil seemed surprised, probably because everybody else seemed to like his boss more.

The night had started out tepidly — a few ice-breaking jokes, a few awkward giggles... but now things seemed to have stagnated.

You had so many things you wanted to say to him, but the nervousness and excitement of finally meeting face to face the one who made your heart jump out of your ribcage made your tongue feel like stuck on your palate, your mind drawing blanks and everything you wanted to say seemed utterly stupid — jokes too cheesy, arguments too dull, questions too unworthy to ask to someone with the wit and charm as Jamil.

You could only steal some glances at him, rolling a ring in between his fingers before putting it back on and sipping on his Painkiller cocktail from time to time, bored but not willing to add anything of his own to start a conversation.

Your eyes were fixed on his lips, closing around the straw of his drink so casually yet so seductively. A reward and a torture for you.

“Hey.” The sound of his voice brings you back to reality, as you lift your head slightly you see his obsidian eyes staring at you — tired, annoyed, hard to say with his trained poker face he always wears. “My eyes are up here, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Heat started creeping up your neck, embarrassed.

“I-I swear I wasn’t staring!” you stuttered. You saw the ghost of a smirk drawing on Jamil’s lips.

“Sure you weren’t…�� he tutted, almost amused by your reaction. 

As you were mentally slapping yourself for being caught staring at his lips like a highschooler in her full infatuation phase for a hot teacher, Jamil got up off his seat with a sigh, leaving you astonished and frozen in place.

“Where are you going?” you almost squeaked, hastily getting up and almost knocking your drink in the process. “To get some fresh air. The stench of cigarettes is annoying me and I’d rather not have to bathe myself in deodorant to make the smell go away.” he replied, eyeing with a burning glare a few other customers not far from your table.

Jamil stared at you briefly, as if waiting for you to say something.

“Is it a problem if I come with?” you asked, offering a small awkward smile, and adding a quick “I don’t really like the smell of cigarettes myself either.” just to avoid seeming too desperate and clingy to him.

Jamil shrugged. “If you want to bring the awkward silence with you, be my guest.”

You followed Jamil down the hallways of the huge structure, eyes studying the sharp lines of his shoulders like they were a work of art.

The chill air of the night hit you in the face the moment you stepped outside, a single neon light of a medical white illuminating the back entrance — oddly clean, not even a trash bag like it usually happened with high-class places, just a few posters ripped by the time and weather and a beat up bike parked on a wall. On your left the bustling road with the bright lights and cars honking and a line of people waiting to be seated inside.

Your nose felt the smell of smoke mixed with mango and you whipped your head back to Jamil, busy vaping from a personalized red, golden and black electronic cigarette.

“I thought you said you didn’t like the stench of cigarettes.” you pointed out with a raised brow. Jamil seemed unimpressed. 

“I do. But this is different.” and puffed a small cloud of smoke that smelled intensely like mango and some other tropical fruit. The smell sweet, too sweet for someone like Jamil.

“If you want to go back inside I’m not gonna stop you.” he said, probably noticing the way you scrunched your nose at the strong scent. 

You shook your head. “I went out of my way to secure a table with you specifically. It wouldn't be the same without you. Can you imagine a poor young lady left at the table by her date in the middle of the evening? What a sad scene it is.”

“Good point.” 

“So…you don’t mind me staying here?”

“As long as you don’t start yapping my ears off you’re all good.”

The silence hugged you both once more, but this time it was less awkward and more comforting, enjoying each other’s presence and exchanging some small talk. 

As Jamil was answering a question you posed your eyes couldn’t help but fixing back to his lips, now glossy thanks to the vaping. You wondered if they tasted like the sweet mango or maybe coconut or more simply like nicotine.

“Head in the clouds again?” said Jamil, that grin you saw the first time back on his lips.

“Me? N-No! I was simply—”

“You know, instead of playing dumb, you could simply ask to kiss me. I might say yes.”

His words ricocheted inside your brain over and over like a record stuck on repeat. You did have half the mind to question whether or not he was playing with you, but before you could laugh it off and backtrack from the whole situation the words flew out before you could stop them.

“Would you really say yes, if I asked?”

Jamil turned around fully, lips stretched in a smile that spelled victory a mile away.

“I might. If you ask nicely, that is.”

“Nicely like?”

Maybe it was the way your mouth hung open in awe, the way your cheeks took that lovable shade of bubblegum pink or the way you looked genuinely interested in receiving a kiss from him, but Jamil felt like he had to live up to his words now.

“Maybe something like: Oh, please, Mister Taipan may I ask for a kiss from you?”

He was half expecting you to chicken out of the conversation, embarrassed, or to say the most cheesy line he’d ever heard in a lifetime but you did surprise him in your own way.

“Please…will you kiss me until I’m breathless?”

Sweet, pleading, heartstrucking. 

Jamil went wide eyed, surprised. He shook his head lightly and regained his aplomb, but the light blush under his eyes remained.

“Well, with such a pretty request how can I say no?”

He tasted sweet.

Not mango, nor coconut, nor tropical fruit.

Just oh, so sweet.

✠ Would you like a table? ✠ Bullettin Board

Thank you very much 🐰anon for your request. Hope you liked it and enjoyed your time. I'll await your next patronage.

Signed - Boss

[y3ager]

STORYTIME I (26 F) FUCKED MY SUPERSTAR CLIENT (24 M) AFTER MONTHS OF SEXUAL TENSION!

— ‘i’m a manager for a pretty big music label and my client is the biggest dickhead in the world but i fear i fucked him after one of our usual arguments.. 😵‍💫’

eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: modern au, smut, porn not much plot, hate(?)sex, cunnilingus, cowgirl, reader gets called ‘mama’ and ‘boss’, unprotected sex, mild choking, musician!eren, manager!reader. minors do not interact.

my first collab entry MAKE SOME NOISE YALL WTF!!! but no seriously thanks so much to @k9nto for letting me join your event i had a blast writing this! hope you all enjoy! 🤭

YOU’VE ENCOUNTERED SOME annoying people in your life. in kindergarten, a boy taunted you by picking up one your fallen hot pink knocker-balls and refusing to give it back to you. in high school, some chick named tiffany ripped down all of your junior class president posters that you spent weeks designing and printing out on the highest quality paper. your college advisor had been completely useless, you’d still be dragging yourself through your bachelor’s degree if you didn’t stay on your toes and realize the classes you were dropped in were a waste of time. but all of these people, and many more that have slipped your mind, shaped and molded you into the woman you were today. strong, tenacious, independent, a go-getter who never gave up and thus was able to reap her hard work, in the form of three nice crisp degrees and a never pitiful bank account.

but eren yeager, grammy award winning singer, songwriter and musician, with multiple weeks spent at the top of the billboard hot 100 and 200 charts, millions of units sold worldwide, and stadiums packed to the brim, took the fucking cake.

you were warned he’d be difficult. every manager he’s assigned quits before one of them ends up in a body bag. none of them have a single nice thing to say about him, and he finds that hilarious.

for better or for worse, you took the challenge because you’re a sucker for them. nothing in life comes easy, and you figured that the managers before just didn’t come hard enough. maybe eren’s fame and status made them falter, but such a fate wouldn’t befall you.

you dragged him to his magazine shoots, you kept his mouth in line during interviews, you kept his socials clean. he was never a second late to rehearsals and recordings. he was a reflection of you, and if you were perfect goddammit he was going to be too.

until today.

“i’m not putting in another extension, eren. the label is starting to get really irritable. we need to go to the studio now.” you furiously swiping along your ipad, pacing around the singer’s deluxe hotel room. while you’re dressed for the day in clean crisp clothes, sharp stilettos, and jet black lace front expertly melted and laid, eren’s still in the bed. the covers are everywhere, his shirt is next to a couple pillows on the floor, and he’s laying on his back eating a croissant from room service, paying you absolutely no mind. it takes everything in you to not chuck your device at his big head. “i’m serious. get. up.”

“and i said i’m not,” he mocks your assertive tone, voice oozing in sarcasm. “going.” he coughs, obviously faking. “my voice hurts. can’t make those greedy bastards money if my vocal chords ache. they’ll live.”

“you are on a strict deadline this era. if you want to catch award season, this album needs to be finished and dropped in the next month. amidst the press tour, your window of recording time is dwindling fast.” dates in your digital calendar glare at you, red and angry. every time you check something off your to do, ten new things pop up. you feel your jaw clenching, teeth gritting together uncomfortably.

“i’ve won enough awards. i don’t care. i’m not getting up.” eren finally raises up from the bed, narrowed green eyes meeting yours. it’s fire against fire, an unstoppable force that is a manager determined to do her job versus an immovable object, a musician who’s not budging from his spot. “it’s my album. it’s my music. i finish it when the fuck i get ready. that label will burn before they drop me.”

“if you don’t follow contract, they will drop you. they put a lot of money into you-”

“money i made back for those dumbasses-!”

“they are your bosses, without them-”

“they need me way more than i need them-!”

“get,” you toss your ipad over to a small couch, storming over to the bed. you snatch the edge of the covers and yank hard. enough is enough. if he won’t get up, you’ll make him get up. “the fuck out of this bed, eren, now!”

“you need,” the cover is yanked back, tugging you forward along with it. you lurch momentarily before righting yourself upwards, leaning back to give yourself more leverage in this childish tug of war you find yourself in. “to calm the fuck down, ___. i’m not going and that’s fucking it.” eren may be lean, but he’s toned like a MMA fighter, muscles rippling under tan skin when he calls upon them. another tug and you topple onto the california king bed, one expensive heel sliding off your foot and falling across the room.

your heads snaps up from the covers, brow furrowed deep in anger. “stop being so fucking difficult, you moron!” emotions welling, you grab one of his arms, preparing to drag him out of this bed. your to do list is a nagging itch on your brain that by the grace of god you are going to scratch. you’re not about to let this bad-with-authority dickhead best you when all he has to do is record a fucking vocal.

“oh, we’re doing this?” easily, too easily, so easily that you register your back hitting the soft bed before you realized he even grabbed you back. he pins you down easily, slightly calloused hands grip your upper arms firmly, pushing them down. he places his legs other either side of your hips so yours are forced in between them, but doesn’t keep you from writhing to free yourself. “whatever fucking—stop doing that—chip you have on your shoulder, you need to fucking solve it because shit’s not going your way today. i’m not going and that is final.”

the tussle leaves you two of you panting, eyes boring into each other’s. eren’s long chocolate brown hair is disheveled not only from a night’s sleep but from this impromptu wrestle. small beads up sweat trickle down his naked chest. your writhe again, and he presses down against you, a synonymous hiss sliding through both of your mouths.

“i hate you, eren.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, ___. looks like you wanted an excuse to feel up on me.”

“oh, like you wanted an excuse to hump me like a mutt?”

there’s another beat of silence as you two watch each other. eren’s hands tighten their hold just a tad before he presses his hardening length hard against your clothed cunt. against your better judgement, your head tilts back and a small moan fights against your bitten bottom lip.

eren hums lowly, his dick bulging against the constraint of his boxers. “hate me too much to actually fuck me, huh? i’m only worth a dry hump.”

oh how eren frustrates you. how he makes even the simplest things in life painstakingly difficult. how he makes you want to smoke ten packs of cigarettes after a day of dealing with him. but oh, how handsome he looks under the lights at photo shoots. how his deep, smooth voice reverbs in your ears. how his fingers move so deftly on his guitar, as if it’s merely an extension of his body. who wouldn’t fantasize about that late at night, him bending you over and snatching down your pants to fuck the stress out of you, or yourself knocking him down a peg and making him beg to let you cum inside.

“shut-” another roll of his hips makes you gasp. “up..”

“i want you, ___,” eren confesses. his hips don’t falter, his cock becoming hungry for release. “i want that pussy. i wanna fuck that little attitude out of you, can i? i see how you look at me and i stare right back.”

you shiver, hand rushing to undo your dress pants and feel more of eren’s dick against your dampening cunt. his hands work with your perfectly, yanking your pants down. it’s a whirlwind of clothes, your sweater, bra, your other shoe.

eren reaches up to grab your breasts, rolling them in his palms, squeezing the supple flesh, pushing them together. “oh, pretty girl. pretty fuckin’ tits.” leaning down, he kisses down your sternum, stomach, inching closer and closer to your center. he wastes no time grabbing your thighs and licking a nice, long stripe against your drooling cunt and sucking on your clit.

your back immediately arches up and your hands fly to grip eren’s hair, tugging at the locks and pulling him in closer so you can feel everything. “oh my god, eren.” the singer’s not shy at all, audibly sucking at you and reaching up to twist and pinch your pebbled nipples.

with another languid lick eren pulls himself away. he pulls his boxers down on and off, freeing his dick from the constraint. he rubs the thick, weeping tip up and down your slit, staring hungrily at the juices leaking out. the feeling of it makes you shiver in anticipation.

“mmm, mm-mm.” you push yourself up. “let me get ‘n top..” there’s a greedy look in your low eyes as you place your hand on eren’s solid chest and lay him down on the bed.

“take charge here too, huh?” your forwardness makes him chuckle as he watches you straddle his waist. “okay then. ride me.”

you brace yourself on your toes as his hand and yours grasp his shaft, directing it to your pulsing hole. you slide down gingerly onto him, his size quickly stretching you out. “ahh, fuck, eren. fuck…”

“you got it,” he assures you, one hand on your thigh as you sink lower and lower, taking him in inch by inch. he bites his lip at the wet tightness of your walls, squeezing and sucking him in. it makes him throw his head back, a couple of small pants escaping his mouth. “mmhm, fuck that pussy feels so good. take that dick, boss.” his hand raises only to land on your ass check with a sharp slap.

you start out slow at first, letting yourself adjust to the wideness of his dick but that quickly gets old. you’re soon addicted to the feeling of him fitting inside so perfectly. gripping his free hand in yours, you swivel and raise your hips faster and faster, effortlessly, desperate for that feeling of him pounding that oh so sweet spot. your juices slide down his length, the slap slap slap of your ass against his muscled thighs filling the room. “‘s so big, feels so good,” your voice slurs.

eren hisses from his spot under you, eyes trained on where you two connect. mouth slightly agape, he watches your cunt swallow him up and the fluid that leaks out. “yes, mama. keep fucking me just like that. feels.. f-fuckin’ amazin’…” his hands grab your plump ass cheeks, fingers digging in hard as he thrusts his hips up, driving the tip of his cock even deeper inside you and pulling a loud moan from you. “keep goin, mama, ‘m almost there, don’t stop, please..”

his pleading make you clench even tighter around him, and that feeling deep inside your tummy aches for release. you place a hand around his throat to better balance yourself, relishing in his low groan. your thighs quake and tremble, your hips meeting his eager thrust perfectly. “oh, my god; oh my god. i’m— shit!” you throw your head back in ecstasy, cumming hard enough on your client’s dick to leave you numb.

“aw, fuck, boss.” eren thrusts up to push his cum deep inside, holding you against himself to ensure a single drop doesn’t leak. “take it, take it..”

the two of you are left panting hard, bodies sweaty and gleaming with the afterglow of sex. you gingerly pull away, cunt left sore and spent from a round of sex months in the making. eren reaches over to caress your ebon lips, admiring the smooth, wet feeling once you roll onto your back. “no more attitude from you, yeah?”

“no more attitude from the man reduced to calling me ‘mama’ and begging to cum either, i’d assume.” your teasing laughter is cut off by him purposefully sinking three fingers deep inside you. “mmh…”

“mhm, sure.” roles reversed, eren climbs on top of you and stares down with green eyes aflame with lust through his tousled brown hair. “now i want to see what i can make you call me.”