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sahkuna · 2 months ago

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LET'S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the end of your contract with GS Holding Corp. is coming to an end. well, your contract working for the company's founder and CEO, gojo satoru, as his personal assistant is ending since you no longer would work directly under him. but gojo will be damned if he lets that happen without trying to change your mind.

content warning(s): fem! + afab reader, plot-ish → eventual smut so 18+ mdni, office au, risky workplace relationship, oral (m→f), unprotected, semi-public sex??? (it's in an office), pining gojo satoru bc that's my fave to write

word count: 6.7K+ holay molay...

a/n: wanted to post this bc 1) its been a millineum since i last posted & a fulfilled req and 2) mentally rejecting that manga leak/ending -_-

“I’ll miss you.”

You stand in front of the photocopy machine unmoving. The soft buzz of ink etching itself onto paper is the only sound that floats through the air beside the voice of the persistent CEO you work under.

Had you known that he would be following you around the building, bugging you as you tried to complete the tasks that he assigned you to finish on his behalf, you would’ve straight up told him to do it himself.

You contribute much of your time and effort to this company, and you’re highly recognized for your work. …But you absolutely didn’t need the recognition to come in the form of being under constant surveillance from your boss.

Assuming you might’ve not heard him the first time when you don’t respond right away, he leans in closer and rests a comfortable arm on your tense shoulders. “I said, I’m gonna miss you—”

“I heard you the first time, Gojo.”

When the machine stops whirring indicating that it has finished the job, you don’t hesitate to snatch the sheets of paper from the printer and slap them onto Gojo Satoru’s chest, decked out in a baby blue button-up. All too soon, you’re sidestepping around him and heading out the door toward your office right down the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims at your sudden early departure.

Hot on your tail, Gojo trails after you clutching the papers close to his chest. “Where are you going?” Gojo asks when you take an unexpected sharp left turn from the usual route to his secluded workroom.

Despite your best efforts to leave him behind, his tall stature annoyingly reminds you that he can keep up with you just fine.

“Y’know,” your boss starts, catching your attention as you practically speed-stomp your way down the halls of his corporation, “Ijichi would never treat me like this!”

You could practically hear the way he pouts from behind you. When you briefly glance back to confirm your suspicions about what expression he could be wearing, you’re not surprised to see he’s throwing a wistful gaze above your head. His soft, pink lips are downturned and tacked with his snow-white brows all bunched together, probably wishing you’d be more graceful with him.

Or take pity on him at the very least, you know?

You turn back around and continue your path toward your own office space. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming back next month then, huh?”

Pity denied.

Gojo swore he heard the wry smile in your voice as soon as you finished your sentence. You’re willfully teasing him and playing with his emotions. But that’s why he’ll miss you— none of his employees would dare talk to him or give him the same flack as you do.

When you step into your office, so does he. And Gojo, either painfully oblivious or simply choosing to ignore the blatant act of you purposefully and almost slamming the door shut in his face, swings it wide open and ambles toward your workstation, a smile creeping onto his lips.

“Extend your contract with me,” he starts, carelessly tossing the sheaf of paperwork onto your tidy desk once he’s within arms reach of it. He peeks at you over his shades and returns your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “I’ll raise your salary a reasonable amount once you do.”

While that did sound nice on paper, realistically speaking, dealing with Gojo’s antics for the foreseeable future was less than ideal for you. God forbid you start getting grey hairs at such an early age. Or a raised blood pressure. And besides…

“I still work under and for Utahime’s department though,” you say matter-of-factly, once you’ve crossed the space of your room to sit behind your desk. Your lips twist into a soft pout as you shuffle the scattered sheets together and place them into a neat pile.

Ah, right.

After Ijichi had filed for a paid sick leave after an unrelated work injury several months ago, you graciously covered your colleague’s position as the personal assistant to the founder and CEO of GS Holdings Corp., for the time being.

Pushing away the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head at the namedrop of his top leading director, Gojo deflates onto your desk.

Utahime has been on his case for the past few weeks to hurry up and file the paperwork so that you’d be back in her good graces as soon as your term with him expires. He’s been procrastinating on filing out the paperwork, mostly because he hates doing tedious work, the other half of him flat-out does not want to see you go so soon.

To say Gojo has thoroughly enjoyed you operating as his aide would be a huge understatement.

Wherever Gojo was in his grand office building, it wouldn’t be unusual for your co-workers to spot you too far off. Outside of work is the same story, especially considering you’d be the one driving him home from work since Ijichi acted as both his assistant and driver.

“Just switch to mine!” Gojo whines. He joins you at your desk and sits his ass right on the documents you had printed and stretches his limbs against the surface, nearly eating up all the space on your desk. He ignores your strained quips at him to get the hell off.

“Utahime’ll be fine, let her find someone else. The job market’s already bad as is, so let another person take it and come be with me.”

There’s a double meaning if you dig deep, and Gojo prays and hopes you’d take the time to digest what he really means.

However, it seems like you’re not in the mood to be an excavator today.

Pushing his antics and sweet-talking to the side, you arch a questioning brow at him and lean back into your chair. There was nothing explicitly charged behind that reaction of yours, but it shook Gojo to the core realization that his attraction to you was unnerving— though not unnerving enough to have him stay away from you.

“What about Ijichi? Where’s he gonna go if I stay?”

Gojo visibly perks up at your usage of the word ‘if’, because in his mind he’s already imagined the situation to be quite likely. You see the way he sits a little taller, a little higher on your desk at the proposed question.

But alas, you dash his hopes by adding, “Which I won’t. But if I did, what then?”

“Then you guys can make it a two-person job!” he proclaims as if it were the most easy and obvious answer in the world. Gojo rests his feet on either side of your hips and the heels of his dress shoes press into the leather material of your rolling chair, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together due to the lack of room. “You know I need all the help I can get around here.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Gojo.”

With the wheels on your chair, your boss uses it as leverage to roll you impossibly closer to him than you already were, angling your face centimetres away from his lower torso. You will your eyes to not drift down his body and toward his lap.

Lord knows the field trip the man would have with that if he were to catch you blatantly checking him out right before him.

“Why’s it so hard to convince you to stay, huh?” he asks, knocking a soft knuckle against that stubborn head of yours. “Why? You don’t like me or something?”

Your heart stutters in your chest at his question.

Insufferable as he can be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some magnetic pull towards him.

Losing control of the situation a bit, you grab the reins again. Clearing your throat you ask, “Do you talk to all your employees like that?”

He shakes his head. “Nah.” Gojo props an elbow onto his knee and presses his cheek into the palm of his hand. His smile grows warm and gooey when his blue eyes clash with yours from where you sit a few inches below him. “Just you.”

You’ll die. You swear you can die right now from the way he’s looking at you— which is no way a boss would ever look at their employee. Let alone assistant.

Keep it professional.

“Wow! I’m flattered,” you reply, your tone laced heavily with dry sarcasm. You brush his legs away, successfully bringing his feet to rest on the floor and scoot back from your desk. The heated tension that once lingered in the air clears out a bit as you rise to your feet.

Soft cerulean eyes watch as you stand before him, a bit more guarded as you cross your arms across your chest. Whatever you say next is completely lost on him because unlike you, as subtle as he may be, Gojo allows his eyes to wander.

He swallows thickly. You shouldn’t do that. His gaze inconspicuously slides down to the low neck of your blouse and zeroes in on how your arms press against your chest, deliciously squeezing your breasts together and—

“Satoru!” you hiss.

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as discreet as he thought.

Quickly flitting his attention back to your face, Satoru offers you a half-assed apology but it’s too late for that. Your face is screwed tight with abashment and bafflement after having caught him in the act. It’s an emotion he hasn’t seen you wear lately. He wants to see more of that. More of you.

Before you could get a word out, ready to rip him a new one about how your eyes weren’t ‘down there’, he hurriedly rushes out a proposition— changing the subject and bringing you both back to the original reason as to why he’d been following you around this past hour. “If I get you to like me, will you work past your term?”

You rest your arms at your sides, completely forfeiting your motion to scold him. Now that’s new. “I never said I don’t like you.”

Satisfaction settles in his chest, warm and heavy at your statement. Gojo liked the sound of that.

“Then how about this,” the tall CEO moves from his seat on your desk toward you. With each step you take back, he matches you in stride until he’s got your back up against a wall. Quite literally.

“If I get you to like me more than you do now, you stay. With me. Deal?”

The gentle scent of fabric softener and sandalwood cologne wafts around you. This proximity made you squirm with anticipation. “Do what you want,” you say, craning your neck up to stare at him resolutely. “It won’t change the fact that I’ll be in a whole new department next month.”

The smirk on Gojo’s lips stretches wide as he meets you stare for stare. His voice drips heavy with confidence and a brazen spirit as he asks, “Yeah?”

You only manage a stiff nod, not trusting yourself to speak lest it comes out as a fucking moan from the sexual tension alone.

Content with your compliant state, Gojo finally backs off from you and makes his way toward your door. “Don’t forget that meeting we have with the executives this Friday.”

“I know,” you tumble out, sinking back onto your office chair, miffed that he's got you in such a tizzy. It's a miracle that you don’t melt into it right away under his gaze.

You pick up a new batch of paperwork and begin filing them into their respective folders. When you finish with the first set, Gojo’s still lingering by the doorway, watching you.

“Yes?”

“Nice top, by the way.” His hand rests on the wooden frame, eyes half-lidded with intent. “It really does bring out your eyes.”

As expected, you did not forget about that special executive meeting on Friday. Nor did you forget about the many others you’d have to host and coordinate after that, too.

Essentially, you didn’t let what had transpired the week before deter you from your respective duties as Gojo’s personal assistant. As his right-hand… woman.

But you didn’t entirely forget about what went down either.

Whether you adhered to his “deal” or not was completely up to you. However, after that day, every personal meeting or time alone together seemed to bristle with tension, heavy with a delicious sort of pressure of the unknown.

When Gojo would catch your eye or you’d catch his during prolonged meetings that stretched over the initial run time with the higher-ups, there would be a brief moment of shared glances. One recent instance stuck with you to the last few weeks of your contract.

You remember how he would roll his eyes sarcastically as if he were being forced against his own will to attend these kinds of things— which technically he was, but that’s the reality of being a successful founder and CEO of your own company— and his actions would rouse a stifled giggle from you, which in turn prompted an easy smile of his own.

But it was through these shared glances, these brief moments of humour that it would slip into something a little slower, a little more sweet the more you two held eye contact like dripping honey until you broke it off, hurriedly directing your attention back toward the front of the room.

It’s only a matter of time until this bundled ball of emotions displayed through knowing glances and brief moments of heated exchanges finally snaps.

You both wonder when that’ll be.

“This is crazy.”

You slide your gaze away from swirling your cup of iced cappuccino to Shoko who sits beside you. She leans her head back against the cushions of your office sofa— a complimentary gift from Gojo two weeks ago(you suspect it was his last-ditch effort to get you to stay).

“What is?” you ask.

Sitting up, Shoko crosses her leg over the other and fixes you with an exhausted look. “This!” she exclaims, gesturing her hands around the vicinity of your room. There are moving boxes scattered everywhere, which is a bit absurd considering you’re only moving one level downstairs to your old space.

“I can’t believe you’ve only got a week left until you switch departments,” she says. “Suguru’s gonna lose his head the moment you’re gone and Satoru’s already started with the theatrics.”

Trust and believe that you already know. It’s hard not to when you’ve got the Chief Operating Officer, Geto Suguru, knocking on your door for an offer you ‘don’t wanna turn down’. But once you’d told Geto that you were still going ahead with filling out the documents to head back to Utahime and her team, it led to a hefty chunk of your lunch being taken up by him asking (begging) you to reconsider when your contract end date drew closer.

“I just worry for Ijichi is all,” you say, shrugging as if the situation were already out of your hands. “Gojo’s been very temperamental and… well, bratty these past few days.”

Shoko’s brown and neatly trimmed brows shoot up with interest at the disclosure.

You think back to a few days ago when you told Satoru to take it easy on Ijichi. You told your white-haired superior that he’d have to patiently reintroduce him to the new tech and procedures that Ijichi would work with as it would be his first week back. You couldn’t believe your ears when he straight-up told you, “I don’t care about a man’s hardships. He can work them out by himself!”

“Satoru’s always tormented the poor guy,” Shoko says, shaking her head at her friend’s show of obnoxious behaviour, “but he does mean well. I think.”

And speak of the devil…

Over the curve of Shoko’s shoulder through the open blinds of your clear, glass window you spot Gojo. Noticing that he’s caught your attention, he waves incessantly at you through the glass before you hear him twist the knob of your door open.

“Which reminds me,” your friend continues, drawing your sights back on her, “the rest of the team and I were thinking of heading out for drinks later to celebrate with you one last time. Wanna come?”

“Oooh,” Gojo drawls once he’s within earshot.

He’s looking extraordinarily handsome today, wearing black slacks and a buttoned, linen navy blue top. He’s smiling boyishly from ear to ear when he catches you twisting your lips in a tight purse as if you were trying to stifle a smile of your own. “A celebration, hm? Can I come?”

Shoko scrunches her face at the sudden question and self-invitation. She throws a bewildered look in Gojo’s direction when he settles himself onto his signature spot in your office. Your desk. “Why?”

Huh?

What kind of question was that? Why else would he want to spend an evening out with everyone? With you especially.

White brows bunch together, tight with confusion. “To celebrate with you guys?” he responds as if Shoko had just asked a one-dimensional question.

“You’ve been a moping mess this past month after you’ve learned that she—” Shoko points her finger into the flesh of your cheek, “—wasn’t going to extend her work contract with you. So, if anyone’s gonna be celebrating, it sure as hell isn’t you.”

Yeesh! Tell him what you really think.

Knowing Shoko didn’t mean any harm by her words, you still felt inclined to soften the blow of her statement just a tad. “Plus, you don’t drink alcohol, Gojo.”

“And you don’t drink,” Shoko adds, raising her arms in exclamation as if to thank you for bringing that point up.

“Well,” pushing himself off the edge of your mahogany desk, Gojo stops a bit before the sofa you and Shoko both occupied. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with my team!” he defends, directing a pout-induced glower at his colleague.

You’d think he’s done, but with the touch of Gojo’s large hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the couch that you realize he’s far from over at stating his point. “And neither do you,” he says, he pulls you behind him, steering you both toward the door. “We’ve got plans.”

Puzzlement crosses over not only yours but Shoko’s features as well.

“We do?”

“Since when?”

Gojo nods at you and Shoko’s questions spoken in tandem. “Emergency meeting. She and I’ve got important matters to discuss.” You feel the faint brush of his hand find the small of your lower back and maneuver you out the door and away from Shoko’s view. “You wouldn’t get it.” Is the last thing he says before he pokes his tongue out at the woman and ducks out of sight.

“Oh, really?” She says, rising to her feet but making no moves to follow you both out the door.

“You don’t even put your own two cents during our regular team meetings! There’s literally nothing for you to discuss, Satoru.” You hear her call after him as he guides you down the hall, past the elevators and toward his big office.

If only she knew how true that statement would be.

Gojo hates meetings. They always happen at inconvenient moments and eat up way too much of his precious time. It’s time that he could be spending doing something else… or someone.

Which is why this “emergency meeting” was different.

If someone had told Gojo Satoru several months ago that his favourite employee, his darling assistant would be seated pliant for him on his expensive Birch Lane executive desk he would have laughed in their face with a furious blossoming blush nipping at his neck.

But right now, there’s nothing to laugh about.

Gojo’s watching you closely in the shaded dark of his room, tracking every subtle shift in your body language for any indication that you may be uncomfortable and change your mind at the last minute. But when you wrap an arm around his neck, slotting him closer in between your legs, he realizes he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Something in the air felt different. It was thicker. Electric.

Gojo knew in an instant he wouldn’t last when your lips ghost the words, “This doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind,” on his mouth, before tipping his head to the side, giving you the space to slot your lips with his.

Game fucking over.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t able to completely get you to change your mind about working with him and his department.

But this?

You whimper into his mouth when his hands skim down back and cheekily resting right above your ass. Your body warms underneath the palm of his hands with every touch and how he kneads your hips tucked away beneath your business casual attire.

Gojo Satoru had won in his own right.

Your breaths come quicker as he steals them from you, his left-hand squeezes your side while the other slides across your lower belly and traces the hem of your blouse.

“Take this off,” he commands, his voice wrecked with reckless abandon. His forefinger hooks on the band of your pants, in a pathetic attempt to pull them down despite not having undone your button and zipper. His air of frustration is not lost on you when you see the slight furrow in his brows, the more he pulls but to no avail of getting you in a state of undress.

Not wanting to lose the momentum you both have, you unhook your arm from his shoulders to give him a helping hand.

“Relax,” you say, softly nudging his hands away from your clothing. He hungrily eyes how you pop the button of your dress pants and shuck them onto the floor.

Once that was off though, everything came into sharp focus, and Gojo’s breath caught in his throat.

There’s almost a crazed look in his eye the more he stares at your clothed cunt unblinking, unmoving. His breathing’s gone a bit ragged, and every so often you feel the twitch of his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh.

It was a bad idea, considering how the sight of your panties alone had him this rigid, this excited. But he still grits out a rough, “Lemme see.”

Slowly, you pull your laced underwear to the side and Gojo's teeth dig into his inner cheek at the sight. His hands mark a slow path from your thighs down to your knees, pushing them wide apart so that he could see more of you.

The delicate spread of your folds had your boss entranced. Gojo has seen and salivated over the various outfits you wore to the workplace, always wondering what was underneath before he deemed such thoughts as inappropriate and immediately started thinking about something else. But now that he sees it for himself, it was all too tantalizing. He wanted to see all of you, taste all of you.

The tuft of snow-white hair that once obscured your vision is now gone, sinking lower to your lap.

“Oh!” you exclaim loudly at his sudden movement. Shocked by how quickly he came down to eye level with your pussy. “You don’t—” you stammer, swallowing hard as all the blood rushed to your head. Instinctively, you snap your legs shut in a weak attempt to shield yourself from his intense, unwavering gaze. “You don’t have to do that!”

Having one of Japan’s richest, self-made men drop down to his knees staring fervently at your cunt through you in for a loop. You’re sure by now the expression face was no less than gobsmacked right now.

Gojo’s hand grasps one of your calves, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over your warm skin before he hooks it over his shoulder leaning closer to you. “What do you mean?”

Pulling you closer to his face, you’re forced to plant your other foot onto the ground for stability. “This!” you hiss out, tone laced with embarrassment and arousal as your finger points between his face and your body. “It’s unbecoming, you don’t have to do that to get me off. Really!”

“Why not?”

You don’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud. You were his assistant for fuck’s sake!

You’re sure what you two are doing would be an issue with some legal policy with the company. But then again… Gojo Satoru is the founder and CEO of said company so he can technically get away with one or two things. But—

Sensing your hesitancy, Gojo’s eyes soften when he looks up at you. “Just… forget the formalities for a sec, will you?” he implores, strong hands grazing up to your knees again hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn with him this one time. “Please? I want to do this for you.”

You look searchingly into his eyes before you finally mellow out. Feeling you relax in his hold and your thighs lose that tension, that was enough of a green light for Satoru before his mouth skims along the mound of pussy. Each kiss he pressed lovingly against your skin, left you shivering in their wake.

It wasn’t long before his tongue, firm and slick, pokes out and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit which has you keening. You feel his lips twist into a smug smile when he hears the broken sound of his first name from above him.

“Hm?” he hums, still mouthing at your pussy which encourages another ragged moan from you. “Am I doing good so far?”

You don’t know why he even bothered asking, considering the sheen shine of your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Nonetheless, you give him the answer he patiently waits for.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moaning again when the tip of his tongue circles your sensitive clit.

And it all becomes too much when his hand abandons supporting your leg on his shoulder, to skate its way up your thigh and toward your pussy. The combination of his forefinger rubbing tight, intricate shapes on your clit and his mouth working you open have you yelping from overstimulation.

You press your palm against Gojo’s forehead when the heat in your lower belly runs hotter, successfully pushing his face away.

“Not like this,” you protested weakly, your hand smooths down from his face to grip his shoulders. There’s a light flush that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks absolutely debauched right now. “I want you.”

With the cuff of his sleeve, Gojo wipes your arousal off the bottom half of his face. Unhooking your legs from him, you're left to shakily stand on your own, with nothing but the support of his desk to keep you upright.

“Alright,” he breathes, smiling at how your eyes follow the way his hands undo the expensive black Ferragamo belt on his waist. “How do you want me then?”

“Um…” You look around the place for feasible places for you to get fucked on. Crude, but true.

Behind Gojo is his office chair rolled back, looking vacant and lonely. “We could do it on the chair?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at your proposal. “If you want?”

“You want to ride me?” he asks, a proud smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

Your air of confidence softens into something more breathless and vulnerable which has his heart surging with reckless affection. “Don’t make it weird!” you yelp, giving his shoulder a light shove.

Dragging the chair closer, Gojo chuckles at how quick you are to change moods. “Come,” he says once he has sat down, patting his lap with one hand while the other pulls himself free from his boxers and slacks. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You don’t know what turns you on more: A) the way he’s speaking so dirty, so obscene with you right now or B) the sight of Satoru’s cock smacking against the pale, creamy space of his exposed lower abdomen. You stare at it for too long, the build-up of saliva gathering in your mouth the more you stare at his thick and hard shaft, occasionally bobbing on its own under your intense glare.

You could die and go to heaven right now.

Gojo’s hands grab your waist and pull you closer to him. Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you twist around so that you’re back is now facing him as you prepare to take him all in.

“No, no, no, no,” he rushes out when you’re about to sit down on his lap facing away from him. Within seconds, Gojo has you facing him. He grasps the back of your knee and tugs it to his side, pushing the armrest out of the way and does the same with the other.

Oh! You didn’t know it could do that.

“I wanna see you,” he murmurs, once you’re now straddling his lap and hovering mere inches away from his erection. His free hand moves between your bodies and grabs the base of his cock and angles it toward your slit.

“Oh.” You feel giddy. The noticeable brush of his tip stroking along your slick folds only adds to that dizzying sensation. “Yeah, I’m—”

When the head of Gojo’s cock slowly starts to push inside of you, your sentence is cut off by a broken moan emitted from the back of your throat.

With his eyes closed, there’s a lazy smile that spreads across Gojo’s mouth as he breathes out a heavy groan once he’s all the way inside you. “Yeeeah,” he whispers, the pads of his fingertips pushing tight against your bare skin.

You bite your lip and experiment with this position. Lifting your hips slightly before you sink back down, Gojo buries his face into your neck and breathes, ragged and heavy.

So much for wanting to see you.

“Shit,” you hear him hiss, as he blindly gropes at your ass, working your body to continue to slide up and down his hard cock. The heat of you had him seeing stars as searing pleasure tore through him.

Whimpering, you clench onto firm biceps, enjoying the shallow strokes he pushes into you.

It’s incoherent at first. However, when you tumble out a dazed huh? so that you could hear him repeat whatever he had said, Satoru's lips parted in ecstasy. “I forgot,” he choked out, voice raw and unhinged.

Gently tugging him away from your neck, your core tightened at the fucked out expression on his face. Curious eyes trail down to his stomach and how with each pump inside you, his muscles involuntarily spasm.

“The condom,” he states, slowing down his fevered pace. “I forgot…”

If it were anyone else, you would’ve hopped right the fuck off their lap with panic, body tense over the fact of how careless you were being.

But surprisingly there were no alarm bells and no flashing red lights in your mind. If anything your blood ran a little hotter, the need and tightness in your core taking over.

You don’t know you have it in you to completely stop everything in a search for a condom you don’t even know he might have.

“Pull out then,” is all you say before you begin to ride him again.

Gojo can definitely get behind that. He’s not complaining if it meant he got to have you completely raw.

Your pussy swallows his cock, and Satoru gathers up the bottom of his shirt— wrinkling it in the process— so that he could see the way he disappears inside you over and over.

When he shifts his gaze back up again so he can take in the expression you might be wearing, Gojo’s surprised to see you already looking at him.

There’s an adorable tinge to your lips that has Gojo flitting his gaze back to them every damn time he tries to make eye contact with you as he fucks himself sweetly into your pussy.

He’s overcome with the strong urge to kiss you. To cross the small width of space between your mouths.

So, he does.

His brow bumping yours, Gojo’s hands return to your ass and he stands up with you in his embrace. The cold press of his desk accosts you as he uses his weight to push you slowly onto your back.

“Satoru,” you sigh your boss’s name blissfully once his lips leave yours to press them along the curve of your jaw before pulling away.

“I wanted this to be nicer,” he says, brilliant blue eyes glittering down at you through the sex-soaked shadows. His hips don’t stop pistoning in and out of you, and he exhales a particularly harsh hiss when he feels you squeeze around him. “Nicer than here.”

You drag in a breath at his sentence, its implications not lost on you. He’s thought about this before. “It's okay, there's always another time.”

Satoru hums appreciatively, seemingly pleased with your answer. After leaning in for one last kiss, he brushed his mouth from yours and announced in a voice you barely recognize, “I’m gonna come.”

Propping yourself onto your elbows, you nod at him. “Pull out then.”

“Are you sure?”

Stuck between the incredulous look painted across your features and how your nails press a little tighter into his skin, Gojo listens. Not without hissing out a disgruntled, “Fine.”

Pulling out from your wet pussy, Gojo’s hand wraps around his dick and he strokes it fast and hot. He growls with sharp relief when you reach a hand down to massage his sac. He thinks he may come all over you if you continue doing that.

“Fuck,” he snarls when your fingers graze the base of his cock.

Cracking his eyes open, he messily knocks your hand away from him before intertwining his fingers with yours and grabbing himself with his free hand, stroking hard and fast. Every so often his tip would intentionally rub up and press against your nub, successfully stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves with the main goal to climax.

With every pent-up thought he’s had about you, Gojo finally comes with you in tow. His cum dribbles out from his slit and lands on your skin— mostly between your inner thighs and folds.

“So,” Gojo starts, his hands wandering up to the middle of your back after a few moments of comfortable shared silence between you two. As much as he wanted to relax in your post-sex session and bask in its warm glow, he had to address the elephant in the room.

You hum in response as you work the buttons of your blouse, waiting for him to continue. “When you said ‘next time’, did you seriously mean t—”

The two of you abruptly jump apart at the telltale sound of heels clicking down the hall drawing closer and closer to Gojo’s office door. In a panic, you leap off his desk, sending a flurry of sheets flying down to the floor into a sorry pile.

“Nice going,” Gojo remarks with a sly grin, as you hurriedly shimmy your pants up your legs. The sheen layer of sweat— among other things— makes it a bit difficult for you to easily slip them on.

Once they’re settled at your hips and you tend to the zip, you cast a withering glare his way, you’re relieved to see that he’s already tucked himself away into his pants, already looking presentable by the time the door opens.

With the click of the lock giving way, you hear a woman starkly ask, “Why are all the lights off?”

You could pinpoint that voice from a kilometre away.

Turning on your heel, you see the shadowy figure of one of your closest colleagues in the dark of the room. “Utahime!”

When the head director steps into the room and flicks on the lights, the sudden brightness has you squinting your eyes a bit. Upon catching your gaze she offers you a sincere smile, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.

But it doesn’t last long because seconds after her smile morphs into a displeased scowl when she spots Gojo lounging boneless in his office chair a few feet away.

“And why’s it so…” Utahime fans a delicate hand in front of her face, casting a weary gaze at you two from across the room. “Warm in here?” she questions no one in particular.

Her eyes take in the setting before her, and she pauses in her tracks. You could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind.

“What hap—”

“—It’s warm?! I couldn’t even tell!” you respond, a bit too chipper as you cut her line of questioning off. A bit too fast.

From behind you, you hear Gojo’s stifled laughter that’s covered by poorly by a ridiculous attempt at a coughing fit.

“Well,” you wring your hands together subconsciously, “what brings you here?”

Noticing your off demeanour, Utahime fixes you with a puzzled look that reads as if she were asking you "are you okay?" as your plastered smile only grows more strained by the second.

“I came here to grab your reports and documentation from Gojo’s outbox, but somebody,” cue Satoru slipping on his signature shades to deflect the icy stare Utahime was housing, “forgot to put them there. Hence why I’m here.”

“Oh, right!” Gojo hums, rolling back from his desk as he reaches down to gather the scattered sheets that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all here.”

You both watch in shared silence as he flips through each page, meticulously setting each one aside that wasn’t labeled with your name on the header.

Thrown off by how long he’s deliberately taking in smoothing out the crinkles on each page, the older woman stomps up to Gojo and unceremoniously slaps her hand on the wooden table. “Give me that, will you?!” she exclaims, snatching and wrestling the papers out from his hands.

“Ah! Wait—”

Scanning the pages your department leader seems content that everything’s in order.

Until it's not?

The woman’s once sunny and bright disposition suddenly flips on his head, as there seems to be something written on that page midway that makes her freeze.

“Go ahead and hand me a new copy,” Utahime says, practically tossing the sheets of paper back onto his desk without a second glance. She smooths her hands down the silky expanse of her long skirt, once, twice, then three times for good measure. “I want it in my inbox by next Monday.”

She nods curtly at you before she turns and practically books it to his door. You don’t know why but you swear you saw the faintest hue of pink tickling the apples of her cheeks. There was also an expression that couldn’t quite put your finger on that highlighted her features.

If you were to say though, her emotion looked between the mix of detachment, embarrassment… wait, no. It was mortification.

But what was there to be mortified over?

“What’s wrong with the copy you gave her?”

Gojo presses his lips together in a sad attempt to keep his smile at bay as he hands it over to you to see for yourself.

Eyebrows furrowed, you skim each sheet. You don’t get it. What’s the problem with—

That’s until you notice that some of the pages are sticking together. It’s on the third page you see it and understand why Utahime was in such a rush to leave. Why she kept wiping her hands onto her clothing.

Right there among the printed hiragana and kanji was a few small white streaks of fluid covering bolded characters and numbers.

Oh no.

“Y’know…” The sleeve of his dress shirt rests along your neck as his hand squeezes at your shoulder. Delicate fingers slide against your bare skin and pull at the strap of your bra, successfully tucking it underneath your blouse again. Had that been poking out the entire time?! “I knew it would’ve been a good idea to finish inside.”

Horrified that you’d have to deal with the information of going back to Utahime next week knowing that she knows what you guys did, has you burying your face into Gojo’s chest and letting out a muffled scream.

“Just saying!”

FIN

i don't know how to stay within the maximum word count for the life of me... i'm not sorry!

#sahkuna!#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #I EDITED THAT PANEL TO LOOK MORE LIKE HIM (the hair)#mdni divider by cafekitsune

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yuumei-art · 4 months ago

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First, I want to address the rumors that I used AI to paint A Thousand Skies. Here is a condensed version of the 10 part video recording of how I painted everything. I normally reserve the full hours long video recordings for my patrons but here they are in case there is still any doubt https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1d-3hxjZWROiZPaI8XeU93cKBBKB1Gz9Z?usp=drive_link

All of my past paintings have full video recordings for my Patrons, going back to 2018 when I first got a Patreon.

Long time followers will also know that I care deeply about the environment, not only in the themes of my art but also in my actions to the best of my ability and knowledge. So much so that every year since 2016, I’ve donated 100% of my Black Friday sales to environmental charities, and you can see all the receipts of the organizations I donated to here https://www.yuumeiart.com/blog

I realized a comment I’ve made at 2am and while sleep deprived was confusing. I want to clear up the misunderstandings from yesterday's post where I said AI isn’t that bad for the environment. I thought I was specifically answering the question of how much energy it takes to generate 1 AI image on my own computer without any servers, but I realize now that people were talking about how much energy it takes to train AIs by big companies. This was not what I was trying to refer to in my comment, but I recognize it is one of many legitimate concerns with the way current generative AI is developed.

I want to reiterate that I did use AI for a gag scene in my comic—the character, Vance, was objectifying women by seeing them as anime cat girls and pasting them over AI backgrounds. I thought that such a character having AI goggles was making a point. I recognize that regardless of the context, the use of AI carries other ramifications. I will be taking all of this into consideration with my future artwork.

I know AI art is a very heated issue with very real concerns attached to its use. I don’t expect people to change their minds. I will continue to make art as I always have for the past 2 decades before AI existed, and continue to make available to my patrons full video recordings of the paintings I’ve made and will make. Thank you.

#art

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motomamita · 6 months ago

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viking!könig × female!villager!reader

warnings: smut, +18, possesive!könig, breeding kink, kidnapping, mentions of rape and virginity!!

Viking!König who, along with his warriors, disembark in a small village located by the sea. Dressed in animal skins, swords and armor, they enter the village to loot and destroy everything within their reach.

It is then that he manages to spot a small house at the top of a small mountain, not far from all the others. Upon reaching the field, he notices a female figure coming out of the small garden with a basket of tomatoes. It was you, dressed in a long white skirt, a beige shirt and a scarf around your head. You look like an angel fallen from heaven, so harmonious and calm, totally different from König's rude figure.

It doesn't take you long to notice that tall, burly man at the entrance to your home, who seems anything but pleasant. You recognize their clothing and the bad intentions that characterized the vikingos. An expression of terror was marked on your face and you immediately ran into your home, shouting your father's name and without letting go of the basket of tomatoes.

Konig's stomach twisted in a feeling of excitement at your reaction, feeling powerful at the fear of the rest of the people seeing him. With his long, muscular legs, he followed your steps to the interior of the home where a series of murmurs welcomed him.

In the humble living room there was an adult couple who looked somewhat sick and next to them was you, who covered 2 small children no more than 6 years old with your body. König was tall and in good shape compared to your family, who apparently barely had enough to eat.

"Please, don't hurt us.." sobbed your mother, who brought her skinny hands to her chest, begging.

"We don't have anything valuable, you can check for yourself." Your father spoke now, pointing around you. König began to walk around the room, observing everything around him and verifying that there was nothing there that would be useful to him. "The only thing we can offer him are vegetables and fruits from our garden. Daughter, give him the basket of tomatoes!" Your father ordered, hoping that König would agree and leave as soon as possible.

You stepped forward timidly and held out the basket with the tomatoes to him, taking a distance and with your hands trembling. König looked down at you, smiling slightly at your fear and how you couldn't maintain eye contact with his cold blue eyes. He reached his hand to the basket and took a tomato, it had a good size and color. Without thinking he brought it to his mouth and tasted a little of it, not caring how the juice fell from his lips to his bushy beard.

"And then? What do you think? If you want, you can take the whole basket, it's all yours!" Your father insisted.

To tell the truth, that tomato was delicious but you were even more so. "I'll take everything from the garden... And your daughter too." König spoke for the first time, generating a shiver throughout your body.

"No problem. Girl, put on some shoes and go!" Your father spoke coldly, capable of doing everything possible to defend his family, even if it meant giving you away to an unknown Viking.

You sobbed and screamed that they wouldn't let you leave with him, with König, but your father did nothing but raise his voice even more and even try to hit you. Your mother and your brothers cried in silence, observing the situation with sadness but without intervening on your behalf. The decision was already made, you were now König's property.

It was widely said that the Vikings came to the villages not only to plunder but also to rape their women and then return to their more 'relaxed' ways. Luckily for you, or not, that had not been the case for you. No, König didn't just see you as a hole to fill with his powerful semen. But as his property, as something to take care of and defend from the other Vikings who had no intention of formalizing with any woman. He wanted to be the only one with something to fight for and stay alive. And, soon, with whom to form a small family of warriors.

During the short time you had to gather your few things, your father took it upon himself to inform König of all the good things you had to offer. You knew how to wash, cook, heal, and, best of all, you were a virgin. That last one excited König even more, who was excited by the idea of being the first (and only) to be between your legs.

You boarded a large ship with your wrists handcuffed to prevent you from escaping and an old cloth bag with some items of clothing. According to König, none of that would help you in the cold climate of traveling over the sea, plus he wanted you not to wear underwear.

"Look guys! König brought us this sweetness to share!" one of the Vikings exclaimed, making all the men's hungry gazes turn towards you. You sobbed at the idea of having to serve as a sexual slave for all those scary Vikings but that idea quickly disappeared when you noticed how König approached the man and growled: "don't go near her." Reporting that you were not a common asset to the crew, but his alone.

That same night you slept next to König in a more exclusive room than the rest of the men, who all slept in the same crowded place. You noticed that he had a higher rank than the rest, therefore you had certain advantages over the others. Luckily for you, König explored your body externally, caressing your breasts, ass and pussy but without trying anything else.

The weeks passed and with them you managed to get used to the lifestyle of those men. König had already warned everyone about your exclusivity only with him, so no one ever tried anything with you. Your routine was based on washing and cooking König's clothes, cleaning his war wounds and cooking for him and his men. During the nights, you only had to be in charge of helping him bathe and dress the times when he arrived very exhausted, then both of you would just lie down and sleep.

Inevitably you managed to appreciate him and desire the closeness of that massive man. König, for his part, also wanted you, demonstrating it in the way that during the night he would rest his big erection against your ass, or how he would sit you on his lap and take advantage of the movements of the boat to obtain a pleasurable friction.

That night, the sexual tension between the two was unsustainable and it didn't take long for both of them to achieve what they had longed for. Due to your tightness and the large size of König's member, his first thrusts were painful and uncomfortable. However, he took care of reducing your disagreement by sucking and biting your breasts.

"My little wife- ah I love your breasts and how tight you are.." König growled, bringing his hands to your hips, using you as his personal fleshlight.

Slowly, his long and thick cock entered completely inside of you, feeling a sensation of simultaneous pain and pleasure. His hot breath and masculine scent made your walls wrap even tighter around him, causing him to moan loudly.

"Mine, only mine. This pussy belongs to me, your breasts belong to me, you belong to me completely..." he murmured, bringing his mouth to your ear and lightly biting your lobe.

His thrusts increased along with his grunts, you sobbed with pleasure at the way his hair pubes touched your clit. "König- I want more.." you stammered, not quite able to formulate words.

"Huh? You want my cum? You want me to fill you up inside?" He asked as his pace became more clumsy, announcing that he was about to finish.

And so he did, filling your entire interior with his powerful semen that, after 9 months later, took shape into 2 chubby and healthy warriors.

#cod smut #cod #cod x reader #konig smut #konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #viking!konig #cod fanfic #konig fanfiction #viking #cod fic #call of duty #call of duty smut #könig smut #könig x reader #könig cod

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sleepyhoon · 1 month ago

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THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH

pairing. best friend's ex!sunghoon x reader

genre. best friend's ex au, halloween au, smut, angst (if you squint).

word count. 12.2k+

warnings. alcohol consumption, drug usage, partying, driving under the influence, toxic relationships, themes of divorce, brief mention of physical abuse, smut [car sex, use of handcuffs, oral, praise kink/dirty talk, creampie]

summary. a stressful night at a Halloween party has you seeking comfort from the last person you should be involved with — your best friend's ex.

a/n. HIGHLY HIGHLY inspired by season 2 episode 1 of euphoria! this is a work of pure fiction and is NOT a reflection of how i view the members. despite writing this story, i DO NOT condone the dangerous choices the characters in this fic make and DO NOT encourage others to do so! read at your own discretion. also, very special thanks to @zreamy for beta-reading this for me!!

When you were six, you spent Halloween night lying on a hospital bed dressed as Hannah Montana.

Everything happened so fast; one moment, you were trick-or-treating with your father and younger sister while scarfing down a Snickers bar for the first time (a king-sized one at that), and the next, your dad was rushing you to the hospital in a panic, tears in his eyes as he encouraged you to stay awake in the backseat.

By the time you’d arrived at the hospital, your body had gone completely limp, and your father struggled to carry both you and your younger sister into the hospital lobby. From what you can remember, it was like a scene from a movie: seeing your dad cry for the first time, being wheeled into an unfamiliar bright room on a mobile bed, all while dressed as your favorite popstar.

The scariest part of the night was shortly after arriving at the hospital and catching a glimpse of your reflection, not recognizing the person staring back at you. The blonde wig and blue eye contacts were to be expected, but the swollen face and half-lidded eyes were another. Had you been able to breathe (let alone talk), you likely would’ve given your sister a classic Halloween jumpscare.

Your mother had arrived only a few minutes after you did, yelling at your father loud enough to have the hospital staff threaten to kick her out. “You forgot she was allergic to peanuts?! Where was her fucking EpiPen?!”

Your dad sighed, running a hand across his face, “I forgot to pick it up. I’ve been busy with…you know.”

She scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve been busy too?! Especially now that we have to meet with the divorce lawyer once a week?!”

Your ears perk up at that, “Divorce?”

You hadn’t known much about the true meaning of divorce, except that it’s something your friend’s parents had gone through, and now he gets two of everything. Two birthdays, two Christmases, two lives. So simple yet so perfect, what child wouldn’t dream of that?

Your parents, who hadn’t even known you were awake, silence themselves immediately. Tears quickly form in your mother’s eyes as she realizes they’d been caught, trying their best to keep the news of their divorce as quiet as possible, waiting for the right moment to explain to you and your sister, Yuna, the real meaning of it, and how different your lives would be.

It dawns on them that there’s no point trying to keep this secret any longer. You were a smart kid, it was probably only a matter of time before you found out on your own, anyway.

All in one night, you managed to survive a near-death experience, only to be followed by the news of your parents’ divorce. And somehow, at twenty-three years old, watching Lee Heeseung flirt with random girls at a Halloween party is much worse than everything you experienced that cursed night in 2007.

“Can you at least pretend that you’re having a good time?!” You can barely hear Minjeong over how loud the music is, her words fading in and out as you take a sip from your cup.

“I am having a good time, isn’t it obvious?” you reply, showing Minjeong your best fake smile.

Grinning, Minjeong shakes her head at you. “Not at all. Here, need a refill?”

Without waiting for your response, Minjeong hops off the kitchen counter and snatches the red solo cup in your hand. You don’t bother protesting, sighing as you rest your weight against the marble countertop, while she adds a mix of different ingredients to your cup.

When she’s not looking, you tilt your head in the direction of the living room, hoping to get a glance at Heeseung through the sea of drunken college students.

The only word that can be used to describe your relationship with Heeseung is ‘unfortunate’. You were together for six months, and spent most of the time fighting, making up, and having sex. It was a relentless, tiresome cycle you allowed yourself to succumb to just for the sake of not having to be alone.

Most of the arguments would start with you questioning Heeseung’s loyalty, growing suspicious upon seeing his username pop up in the likes section of random girls on social media. In hindsight, it seems like a silly thing to get upset over. The entire purpose of social media was to connect and interact with others anyway, but, why was it always girls? And why would these girls suddenly start watching your stories?

Breaking up with him was harder than you could’ve imagined, and you’re sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it without Minjeong by your side, encouraging you through the entire process.

The aftermath was embarrassingly excruciating. For two weeks, you locked yourself in your bedroom and fell into a cycle of sleeping and crying, occasionally taking breaks to eat or use the restroom. At one point, your phone spent a full forty-eight hours without being turned on at all, causing your loved ones to panic upon not being able to get ahold of you.

Slowly but surely you managed to build yourself back up, finally starting to feel like your old self when Heeseung suggested the two of you get back together.

You were hesitant, of course, telling Heeseung you were willing to work things out if he can prove to you he’s changed and ready to be the loyal, doting boyfriend he should’ve been from the start.

So no, you’re not together. But you’re also not not together. It’s confusing.

A football player is blocking your view of Heeseung (dressed as a cowboy), you have to stand on your tip-toes to catch a glimpse of him talking to — wait, who is that?

“Patrick would not stand for this.” Minjeong interrupts your thoughts, poking fun at your costume choice of a female Patrick Bateman.

You shrug, pretending to act clueless. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, shoving your cup back into your hand “Sure, you weren’t. Come on, cheers with me.”

“To what?” you ask, suspiciously eyeing the drink she’s just handed you. Minjeong isn’t that great of a cook, so you can imagine she’s not the best bartender either. In fact, it’d be best if she stayed far away from any sort of kitchen appliance.

She thinks for a moment then excitedly extends her cup out to you. “To getting over our shitty ex-boyfriends!”

Minjeong’s ex was Park Sunghoon, they dated on and off for a year and a half before calling it quits over the summer. You don’t remember the exact reason why they broke up, there were many different factors. It didn’t matter, they were bad for each other anyway and the relationship was entirely too toxic for either of their wellbeing.

You don’t know much about Sunghoon aside from the things Minjeong felt comfortable enough to share with you and the fact that he is on the university’s hockey team with Heeseung. You’ve probably had a handful of conversations and interactions with Sunghoon in the entire time of knowing him, and are more than happy with things staying that way.

Holding your cup up high, you match Minjeong’s smile and tap your cup against hers. “To getting over our ex-boyfriends!”

The drink is disgusting. You quickly turn away so you don’t hurt your best friend’s feelings by gagging at the taste. She manages to down her entire cup while you make quick work of pouring a majority of yours down the sink behind you.

Minjeong stares down at her empty cup with wide eyes, licking the remains off her plump lips. “Holy shit, that was so good. Do you want more? I’m gonna make myself another cup.”

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you say, snatching your cup away when she reaches for it. Minjeong raises a brow at you, and you follow up with, “I should wait before having another drink.”

She nods understandingly, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for coming up with that so quickly.

While she’s occupied with making another drink, your eyes trail back over towards Heeseung. The football player from earlier is gone, and now that your view is no longer obstructed, you watch in confusion as Heeseung now has this mystery girl by the waist, leaning his head down close to her lips as she whispers something in his ear.

This really is worse than Halloween 2007.

“Hey.” You tap Minjeong’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She follows your line of sight, scowling when it lands on Heeseung. “YN, don’t make a big deal out of this. You guys technically aren’t even together.”

“Relax, I’m just going to say hi.” You assure her, moving to head towards Heeseung when Minjeong stops you with a hand on your chest. “Think about this, please.”

You sigh, using your free hand to clutch hers and slowly bring it down from your chest. “I’ll be fine. Be back soon so we can dance, okay?”

Minjeong knows she won’t be able to stop you once your mind is made up, all she can do is sigh and wish you the best as you make a beeline for your ex. Maybe not the greatest idea on your part, but you’re too tipsy to think rationally.

Heeseung doesn’t notice you when you first approach, it takes the mystery girl awkwardly gesturing in your direction for him to finally look over at you, immediately dropping his hand from the girl’s waist. “YN!” He shouts, a little too excitedly, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom with Heeseung on step one of your toxic cycle — arguing.

“You’re overreacting,” Heeseung claims. “We were just talking.”

“About what, Heeseung? Why did you have to hold her by the fucking waist to talk to her?”

“Because! She was drunk! I was holding her up so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself!”

“Who gives a shit if she falls? She’s not your fucking girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, neither are you.”

His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do because he’s right; despite trying to work on things, you aren’t his girlfriend. You were the one who said you weren’t ready to get back together, not him. You shouldn’t be upset with him for talking to other girls.

And yet, here you are with tears in your eyes.

You nod silently, avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat.

Heeseung must realize how much his words have affected you if the way he curses at himself, and shamefully runs a hand across his face is anything to go by. “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Don’t bother.” You stand from the bed, holding back a sob.“Everything about this was a mistake. You’ll never change.”

Heeseung reaches a hand out to grab your arm as you push past him. “YN, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, Heeseung, you did mean it,” you say, pulling the bedroom door open.

There is no point in trying to reason with Heeseung. You know in a matter of time he’ll apologize, you’ll accept it like you always do, have make-up sex, then lecture him about how important it is that he changes before you can consider getting back together. Another endless cycle you’ve fallen into.

Stepping back into the party, you head in the opposite direction of where Minjeong would be, not wanting to run into her in your current state and bump right into someone dressed as Spiderman, causing the little remains of your drink to spill over and knock to the ground. You’re grateful that a crucial part of Patrick Bateman’s costume involved a plastic raincoat, or else your outfit would have suffered a dark blue stain.

“Oh my God, YN! I’m so sorry!” Spider-Man apologizes with a thick Australian accent.

“Jake?” You question, gesturing for him to take the mask off.

He follows your command, face bright red from embarrassment or alcohol. Probably both.

“Yeah, haha, hey. Really sorry about that, I can get you a new drink.” Jake turns in the direction of the kitchen before you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Jake. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Jake thinks for a moment, scratching at the small amount of stubble that’s graced his chin. He really does make a perfect Spider-Man, and if you weren’t so upset, you probably would’ve stayed and told him that.

“Upstairs, all the way down the hall. Wait! It’s occupied, people are doing coke in there, I think.”

Great.

You sigh. “Do you know if there’s another one I can use?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s one.” Jake turns, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Right there. I saw a few people come in and out.”

Thanking Jake, you follow his direction and head to the door at the end of the hallway.

It’s a garage, not a bathroom. But, as long as you get a moment alone, you don’t really care where you are.

After shutting the door behind you, you sit on top of a washing machine and flinch at the cold metal sending chills down your thighs.

You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you don’t even care about Halloween to begin with. It’s an overrated holiday, you wish you would’ve convinced Minjeong to stay in with you and have a classic horror movie marathon while eating takeout and pausing to hand out (peanut-free) candy to trick-or-treaters.

Though, you’re sure you still would’ve spent the better half of the night obsessively tapping through Heeseung’s Instagram stories or trying to spot him in the background of someone else’s. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what, and you find yourself wondering if there’s an end to this unhealthy cycle.

Despite being so young when it happened, you’re sure your parents’ divorce obstructed your view of love and how a healthy adult relationship should work. Your father went on to have short-lived relationships with younger women who were using him for his money, while your mother remained single and chose to criticize her ex-husband’s current lifestyle choices. They couldn’t even co-parent in peace, always making petty comments to the other during drop-offs and pick-ups, finding any and every little thing to start arguing about.

One time in particular, after spending the weekend at your father’s house, your mother slapped him in a Dairy Queen parking lot upon realizing his new girlfriend had taken you and your sister to get your ears pierced. You didn’t actually see the slap happen, but it was loud enough to echo through the empty parking lot and hard enough to leave a red mark on his face.

The memory has tears forming in your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, but before any of them have the chance to trickle down, the garage door swings open.

You turn, and Park Sunghoon (dressed as a police officer) is staring back at you with a confused look on his face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing in the direction of the party. “Uh, Jake said this was the bathroom.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “No, the bathroom’s upstairs but it’s being used. If you really have to go, I’m pretty sure that door leads to the backyard.” You nod your head in the direction of the other door, and Sunghoon picks up on what you’re implying.

He thanks you before jogging over to the exit, setting his cup down on a metal dog crate before turning the knob and pushing open the door.

Sunghoon stands far enough out of frame that you only see a portion of his backside, and once the sound of him pissing on the grass hits your ears, you wonder why he didn’t bother to close the door in the first place.

Men.

He clears his throat awkwardly, “So, you s–”

You cut him off. “Let’s just wait until you’re done, please.”

Sunghoon nods, mumbling, “Right, right.”

He finishes up a few seconds later, zipping his pants back up and properly adjusting himself before returning to the garage, closing the door behind him and picking his drink back up in the process. “So, I’m guessing you’re…upset because of Heeseung?”

You let out a sad chuckle that sounds more like a sob. “Lucky guess. He’s just so fucking confusing, I can’t take it.”

“You’ll be alright,” Sunghoon responds, slipping his phone from his pants pocket and unlocking it. “Heeseung’s a douchebag.”

This catches you off guard, and you’re laughing before you even realize it. “Isn’t he your friend?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at his phone as he scrolls. “Not really. We don’t talk much if it isn’t related to hockey or school.”

A beat of silence passes, then you ask, “When Heeseung and I were together, did he mention anything about cheating on me? Or talking to other girls?”

Sunghoon glances up at you for a split second, taking in how sad and hopeful you look before returning his gaze to the weather app he’d been using to distract himself.

He wasn’t sure if Heeseung went as far as physically cheating on you, but he was definitely talking to other girls behind your back; proudly showing the hockey team countless nudes and vulgar photos they would send him, some of them coming from your own friends.

Sunghoon can’t tell you this, you’re upset enough as it is.

“I wouldn’t know, I always tuned him out whenever he talked.”

Though he’s not sure what answer you were hoping for, Sunghoon can tell you’re a little disappointed by his response. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like getting involved in anyone else’s drama. If you wanted clarity from Heeseung, you should’ve gone straight to the source.

“Sorry,” you apologize, feeling slightly embarrassed that you probably made things awkward, “have you seen Minjeong?”

Your attempt to change the subject seems to work, because Sunghoon scoffs loudly at your question and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Have I seen the girl that just spent ten minutes yelling at me? Yeah, we may have crossed paths.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink.

“Yell at you? For what?”

“She fuckin’…I guess before we broke up she said I should dress up as a cop for Halloween and I must’ve said no, and now she’s saying I only dressed up like this,” he gestures towards himself, “to spite her. Fuckin’ insanity.”

“Well, did you?” You can’t help but ask, Minjeong would always go on for hours about how spiteful of a person Sunghoon was.

He shrugs, mindlessly tracing the rim of the red solo cup with his pointer finger, “Maybe, but this is all that was left in my size at the party store.”

You’re surprised Sunghoon makes you laugh as much as he does, and maybe that’s a bad thing since it’s making you enjoy talking to him. Though he technically isn’t your enemy, he’s definitely not a person you should enjoy having a conversation with. It’s not appropriate, he’s the ex boyfriend of your best friend; all your ties to him were cut the moment Minjeong broke up with him.

You should tell him to leave, that you’re really upset over Heeseung and prefer to be alone, but you don’t. Instead, you keep the conversation going, laughing every joke he makes and completely forgetting why you were upset to begin with.

Halfway through telling Sunghoon about the horrid drink Minjeong had prepared for you, your legs grow numb from having been sat on for so long. You untuck them from underneath your body, not thinking much of it as you continue on with the story, legs dangling against the cold washing machine.

Sunghoon takes notice, though, his eyes quickly darting down to the space between your legs and the white fabric that’s suddenly visible to him due to the short length of your skirt. You miss it the first time he does it, but the second and third time are hard to ignore, especially now that he doesn’t seem to mind being caught.

You really should cross your legs or call him out on his staring. Or maybe even get up and leave entirely.

To no one’s surprise you don’t do either of those things and opt to keep your panties visible enough for Sunghoon to see while you continue to talk his ear off about his ex-girlfriend. There’s something unspoken happening between the two of you, and it’s exciting yet confusing since this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him in the two years you’ve known each other.

The strangest part of it all is that you’re just now realizing how attractive Sunghoon is, Sure, he’d always been a good looking guy, but you’d always seen him as Minjeong’s property and never paid much attention to his face out of respect for her.

But Minjeong no longer has a claim on him, and now you really notice the perfectly placed moles that graced the side of his nose and under his eye. He really was a sight to behold, you often find yourself stumbling over your words as you speak to him, becoming flustered over the intensity of the eye contact he’d been making with you.

“…my throat is still burning and it’s been, like, twenty minutes.” You say with a laugh, watching as Sunghoon finishes off his own drink.

He sets the empty cup down, licking the remaining alcohol on his lips before smacking them, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust her in a kitchen. I’m not that good either, though. There was this one time I had to make brownies for our hockey team’s bake sale and they turned out awful. It’s like, half of them were watery and the other half were burnt. So weird.”

“That doesn’t even sound possible.”

“I’m serious! Hold on, I probably have a picture.”

It takes Sunghoon approximately forty-five seconds of scrolling through his Snapchat memories to find a photo of those godforsaken brownies, and sure enough, they really are a watery, burnt mess. Not that you can even focus on the picture to begin with now that he’s sitting next to you on the washing machine, and you’re finally able to see him up close.

Sunghoon’s words go in one ear and out the other, because now you’re close enough to smell the cologne he’s dabbed on the back of his neck, and notice the metal handcuffs hooked in his belt loop, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else. Especially his uninteresting story about those stupid fucking brownies.

When Sunghoon locks his phone, you take it as a sign that he’s finished with his story and let out another laugh, “Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, slightly slurring his words.

Maybe it’s the fact that his voice sounds deeper than usual, or that he’s staring right at you with half lidded eyes, or that he's started playing with the handcuffs on his waist, but Sunghoon looks dangerously attractive right now.

You gulp, looking down at your lap, “Well, at least one of us had a nice drink.”

Sunghoon nods, running his fingernails along your plastic raincoat, “Wanna taste mine?” He asks, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second.

If there was ever a time to get up and leave, it should’ve been now. The rational part of your brain is telling you to push Sunghoon away and return to the party and forget this encounter with him ever happened. But you can’t move, and if you’re being honest, you don’t even want to.

You’re stuck in place, heart beating out of your chest as Sunghoon leans in closer to you. You feel dizzy in the best way possible, and a part of you feels sick for enjoying the moment as much as you do.

His breath fans your cheek, and the faint scent of alcohol on it should’ve been enough to remind you that you shouldn’t be in this situation with him. Still, you don’t move.

Right before Sunghoon has the chance to kiss you, the door swings open and you jolt away from each other out of shock, clutching your chest as you watch Jake jog into the garage.

“You guys seen my vape?” he asks, a little out of breath.

“I…no, Jake. Why would it be in the garage?” Sunghoon asks, hopping down from the washing machine. He offers a hand to help you down and you ignore it, finally starting to come back to your senses.

“Dude, I don’t fucking know! It was just in my pocket and now it’s gone, it could be anywhere. Help me look!”

Spending your night in a garage helping Jake look for a strawberry-flavored vape doesn’t sound ideal in the slightest; now is the perfect time to leave.

Heading in the direction of the party, you pause when Sunghoon calls out your name, a slight shakiness to his voice. “Keep an eye out for me, yeah?”

Another beat of silence passes, then you nod and say, “Yeah.”

In your defense, there’s nothing to feel guilty over. All you did was have a conversation with Sunghoon, and keeping an eye out for him doesn’t necessarily mean anything else will happen, right?

You try not to think too much about it as you exit the garage, holding in a laugh when Sunghoon says something along the lines of, “You’re a grown ass man, Jake.”

What Minjeong lacks in cooking, she makes up for in dancing.

While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be on her level of dancing, you’d say you’re good enough to keep up with her at a crowded party. If swaying to the music, holding hands, and grinding on each other counts as dancing, that is.

“You’re too stiff; loosen up, babe,” she comments, fingers interlocked with yours.

“Sorry,” you reply, slightly frustrated since you don’t feel like dancing in the first place. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, yeah!” Minjeong turns to face you, moving your arms to drape them around her shoulders. “Then he said I was being crazy, and that he only got the costume because it was all that was left in his size, as if I believe that.”

“Sorry that happened,” you say, and it comes out more sarcastic than you had intended it to.

Minjeong takes notice of this, raising a brow at you before slipping her arms under your raincoat and pulling you closer to her. “You okay?”

The two of you are pressed so close up against each other that it almost feels romantic, and you’re sure if there was another drink in your system you’d probably lean in and kiss her.

You nod. “Just thinking about Heeseung.”

Fake offended, Minjeong’s jaw drops. “You’re dancing with the hottest girl at this party, and all you can think about is your ex? I’m hurt, YN.”

Truth be told, her ex was the one you were thinking about, certainly not your own.

Not a whole lot of time has passed since you left Sunghoon in the garage, but you make sure to keep your promise of keeping an eye out for him upon returning to the party. You’re certain that on the outside you probably look panicked and frantic, eyes darting all over the place for any sign of Sunghoon.

“Well,” Minjeong starts, tugging on your tie. “Since you’re thinking about your ex, it’s only fair that I think of mine; and there he is.”

You stop yourself from excitedly shouting, “Where?!” and watch as Minjeong subtly nods towards the staircase.

Sure enough, Sunghoon is leaning against the banister, eyes zeroing in on you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“He’s been watching me for, like, ten minutes. Probably wants to see if you and I will make out, fucking pervert,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Minjeong has it wrong, Sunghoon has been watching you for the past ten minutes. Ever since he finished helping Jake find that stupid vape, he’s had his sights set on you and you only.

That other part was probably true, though.

You swallow the lump in your throat and say, “Such a pervert.” It comes out a tad more robotic than you were going for, but you tried your best.

Once Sunghoon is sure that Minjeong is distracted, he mouths, “Bathroom,” before immediately turning around and jogging up the steps.

Fuck, are you really about to do this?

Your eyes dart from Minjeong to the staircase, and you can’t believe you’re even considering going upstairs to meet her ex. Everything about this predicament is sick and twisted and perfectly on brand for Halloween.

But, somehow, it’s not sick enough to stop you.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna get some air; I’m feeling kinda dizzy,” you lie, hoping it’s believable enough.

Minjeong stops dancing immediately, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Here, I’ll come with you.”

“No, no. You keep having fun, I’ll be back soon. Make another drink for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll need it,” you assure her with a smile, taking her hands into yours.

“Fine, I’ll be here. But the only drink I’m making for you is a Ginger Ale.”

Thank God.

After giving Minjeong a kiss on the cheek (feeling guilty as ever), you slip past her and head towards the direction of the backyard. Once Minjeong is fully out of sight, you switch paths and sprint up the staircase, bumping into and angering a few people along the way.

You keep your head down once you reach the second floor, speed walking to the end of the hallway and avoiding eye contact with everyone you walk by until you reach the bathroom.

The door is closed and locked, of course, and that’s when it dawns on you that this could be one big, elaborate prank from Sunghoon. You could open the door and be met with a camera in your face with Sunghoon recording, laughing maniacally before mentioning something about telling Minjeong everything and that he stayed loyal to her the entire time.

Unfortunately for you, even that possibility doesn’t scare you away from knocking on the door and saying, “It’s me, YN.”

The knob twists before the door is pushed open, barely enough room to slide in discreetly, but you manage anyway.

Using your body weight to press the door shut, Sunghoon reaches behind you to make sure it’s locked. “You really came.”

You hate that he sounds shocked, as if he had some faith that you wouldn’t risk your friendship with Minjeong for a few minutes with him, of all people. He’s not even your type.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Sunghoon scoffs as if you’ve said the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me, I won’t.”

You don’t have time to overthink the meaning of his words because before you can even realize it, Sunghoon is pushing you further up against the door, and he’s kissing you, finally kissing you.

This kiss is everything but soft, and it knocks the wind out of you. Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your head sideways to allow himself further into your mouth. It’s wet and sloppy, you’re certain that dancing with Minjeong was far more romantic than this. You kiss back anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair, shivers running down your spine when he groans into your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon reaches down to slip the raincoat off of you, pressing your body closer against him to ease it off.

He pulls away slowly, his blown-out eyes focused on the string of saliva that connects your mouths to one another. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, moving his mouth to kiss along your jaw.

You let out a moan when you feel his tongue slide against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, tilting your head back against the door. Sunghoon takes notice of this, focusing his attention on that same spot, sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark before teasingly scraping his canines along the area.

Quickly, your fingers move to unbutton your shirt, suddenly feeling warm all over. You’re only halfway done when there’s a sudden banging on the other side of the door, startling you enough to halt your movements.

“Ignore it,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. “They’ll go away.”

They don’t go away, they actually start to bang louder and harder once a few seconds pass.

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated sigh, lifting his head away from you, “Occupied!”

“Sunghoon?” You hear Minjeong’s voice on the other side of the door, causing you and Sunghoon both to freeze.

“M-Minjeong?” He stutters.

“I have to piss,” Minjeong whines, messing with the doorknob. “Hurry up!”

Sunghoon must sense your panic and the fact that you feel like bursting into loud sobs, because he places his hand over your mouth before mouthing for you to stay quiet.

Minjeong doesn’t let up on trying to open the door, and you’re sure that with just enough force, she could probably get it open.

“I’m using it! Can’t you just go outside?”

“I’m a fucking girl, Sunghoon. Just hurry up and finish.”

“Just…just hold on a second, Minnie.”

Minnie? Fuck is that about?

Sunghoon pulls you away from the door, keeping his voice and movements as low as possible. “You’re gonna have to hide in the bathtub, just lay down flat and wait for her to leave.”

“What?! What if she sees me?!” You whisper, silently praying Minjeong can’t hear you over the music.

“She won’t, okay? I’ll pull the shower curtain back. It’s the only option we have right now unless you want to jump out the window.”

You shake your head. “There has to be a better idea.”

On the other side of the door, Minjeong begins to grow impatient, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor. She’s had three full drinks and is on the verge of busting the bathroom door down if Sunghoon doesn’t open it soon. She focuses her gaze downward, raising a brow at a piece of plastic that’s been slightly pushed under the crack of the door. What is it? A shower curtain? It can’t be, why would the shower curtain be on the floor? It looks more like…

“Fuck! The cops!” A drunk voice yells before the entire house panics, sirens and flashing blue and red lights fill the house.

Inside the bathroom, Sunghoon had still been trying to convince you to lay down in the bathtub when even more panic sets in.

Minjeong bangs on the door one last time. “Sunghoon, the cops are here, you need to leave! Fuck, I gotta find YN!” She yells before taking off down the hall.

Police officers are raiding the house, and all Minjeong can focus on is finding you and making sure you're okay, while you were seconds away from hooking up with her ex. What a fucking nightmare.

“We gotta jump out the window,” Sunghoon says, hurrying over to the other side of the bathroom and forcing the window open.

“What?! Why?!”

“People are doing fucking illegal drugs at this party, YN, and now the fucking cops are here. My dad works for the city and if-” He pauses to grunt, struggling to get the window all the way open. “-news spreads that his son was at a house party that was full of people doing fucking cocaine his career will be fucking over. Fuck!”

This doesn’t explain why you have to jump out of the window with him, but you narrow it down to the possibility of Sunghoon just wanting to be around you for a little longer. And as pathetic as it sounds, you find yourself smiling at the possibility.

Sunghoon finally gets the window fully open, quickly hiking one leg over. “It’s not that far of a jump, we’ll be fine. I’ll go first then let you know when to jump.”

“You’ll catch me?” you ask, buttoning your shirt back up. Now that the raincoat is gone, you probably resemble a perverted schoolgirl costume.

Sunghoon sighs. “Yes, YN, I am going to catch you. Just be ready to run, my car’s down the street.”

He doesn’t give you any time to protest before hiking his other leg out the window and jumping down; you watch in horror as he lands face down. If it weren’t for your current predicament, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the ick.

It takes Sunghoon a few seconds to get back up, brushing himself off before standing, “Come on! Hurry!”

Despite your hesitancy, you follow Sunghoon’s action and hike a leg out of the window, staring down at him. “Are you sure about this?!”

“If you want me to catch you, you better jump now!”

Halloween fucking sucks.

You swear to yourself as you hike your other leg out of the window, saying a quick prayer as you brace yourself to jump.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly catch you, but he does brace your fall, which is good enough for you.

He groans in pain from the impact as you stand and dust yourself off, reaching a hand down to help him up. “Sorry!”

Sunghoon stands, feeling a tad bit dizzy and lightheaded. “Just follow me.”

It isn’t too late to turn around and find Minjeong and just leave with her. In fact, it’d be the morally correct thing to do in this situation. Not that you seem to care for morals.

You make a mental note to send Minjeong a text later as you run after Sunghoon.

Sunghoon is not that great of a driver, but this doesn't surprise you.

He's still somewhat tipsy, occasionally swerving along the empty back roads.

What makes it worse is that Minjeong has been calling and texting you nonstop, your phone practically burning a hole in your pocket as you ignore her relentless attempts.

Sunghoon is trying his hardest to stay focused on the road, but your phone ringing every few minutes was really starting to irritate him. "Just fucking answer her," he says, shaking his head.

"And say what? That I'm with you?"

Sunghoon isn't too pleased with your sarcasm and rolls his eyes, "Obviously not, YN; just do something to make her stop panicking."

That's way easier said than done, especially considering that you can barely even think about Minjeong without wanting to burst into tears. The guilt has already started to set in, and it has you questioning yourself and your morals.

You can't talk to Minjeong; it's too risky, but you can call your sister and ask her to cover for you.

Slipping your phone from your pocket, you force your eyes to unfocus and ignore the string of missed calls and messages from Minjeong, dialing your sister's phone number with trembling hands.

As always, Yuna answers on the fourth ring, sighing loudly into the phone before greeting you with a monotonous, "Hello?"

"Hey, um, I need you to help me with something," you keep your voice low, not wanting Sunghoon to hear your conversation despite being right next to him.

Yuna sighs again, "With what, YN?"

"The party I was at got raided by the cops, and we all ran, so if Minjeong calls you, I need you to tell her I'm with you," you say, your eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets when Sunghoon makes a sudden sharp turn.

"Sorry," he mutters under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

You hate that even now, you find him cute.

"Well, where are you?" Yuna asks, snapping you back to reality.

"I… it's not important, just please do me this favor."

Your sister scoffs, "You expect me to lie for you, and you can't even tell me the full story?"

"The full story isn't important, Yuna."

"Clearly, it is if you're asking me to lie to your best friend."

"Just tell her," Sunghoon groans, sounding slightly annoyed, "but make sure she doesn't tell anyone else."

Yuna doesn't have many friends, and the few she does have wouldn't even care about your drama, so it's not like she'd have anyone to share your business with. You hesitate anyway because of the principle of the situation, how just ten minutes ago you were unbuttoning your shirt for your best friend's ex. Maybe you're starting to come back to your senses because replaying the scene in your head has you cringing from embarrassment.

You lean your head against the window and squeeze your eyes shut, "I'm with Sunghoon."

The line goes silent for a few seconds, and you're worried you may have lost service from driving in such a rural area until Yuna sighs for a third time, "The pretty ones are never that bright."

"I swear it isn't like that," you plead, "just, please, help me out."

"And what will I get out of this?"

Of course, she wants something, classic younger sibling bullshit.

"Well, what do you want?"

"I don't know…a normal older sister?"

"Yuna, I don't have time for this, will you help me or not?"

Bickering with Yuna was starting to give you a headache; you were seconds away from hanging up and coming up with a new plan entirely.

"After tonight, don't involve me in this anymore; I have my own shit to deal with."

You hold back a laugh at that as if Yuna does anything other than stay home and talk to the same two people. "I won't, I swear. I'll text you when I'm close to being home; let me know if Minjeong reaches out to you."

"Whatever, just get home safe and don't do anything else stupid," Yuna says through a yawn before immediately hanging up, not giving you the chance to say goodbye.

As much as you loved your sister, the two of you weren't exactly close. The divide started sometime during high school; your interests and friend groups never really aligned and only led you to stray further away from each other.

You being fairly well-known within your high school didn't help much, either. Countless random students would approach Yuna on the daily, asking if you were seeing anyone, begging her for your number, or even giving her small gifts and treats to pass along to you.

What annoyed her the most was that they never called her by her name, in their eyes, she was always known as "YN's sister", and nothing more than that.

You're sure Yuna doesn't hate you because of it, but it certainly didn't make her very fond of you.

"What'd she say?" Sunghoon asks, interrupting your thoughts.

"She agreed to cover for me tonight," you respond, gazing out the window, "pretty sure she's pissed, though."

"She'll get over it," Sunghoon taps the navigation system on his dashboard, "type in your address."

Despite making you jump out of a bathroom window, Sunghoon technically doesn't owe you anything. He never claimed he'd bring you back to his place to finish what you started; you quite literally only jumped because he told you to, under the pretense that maybe — just maybe — he'd want to hook up with you.

Clearly, that wasn't happening, at least not tonight. Having to jump out the window and then proceed to drive while tipsy must've knocked some sense into him, making him realize he'd been making way too many questionable choices all in one night.

You let out a disappointed sigh, hesitantly reaching out to type your home address into the car's GPS. The system buffers for a few seconds as it calculates the quickest route to your home before displaying an estimated travel time of thirty-eight minutes.

"Forty fucking minutes?!" Sunghoon shouts, causing you to jump.

He sighs, cursing under his breath before reaching forward and ending the navigation route. You sit up further in the seat, ready to ask Sunghoon what he's plotting before he starts typing "7/11".

You raise a brow at this, "Why're we going there?"

Sunghoon gestures towards the navigation system as if the answer is obvious, "Your house is forty minutes away, and I'm still kinda tipsy; I'm gonna need to pull over and get something other than alcohol in my system if I'm gonna be driving for that long." There's a slight slur to his words that had you weary about him driving, so pulling over to recharge isn't a bad idea.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sunghoon managed to safely drive the two of you to the nearest 7/11, opting to pay seventeen dollars to park in a parking garage down the street instead of the shop's personal lot.

"This neighborhood isn't that safe; I don't want anyone breaking into my car," he claims, taking up two spots as he parks in the most secluded corner possible.

The neighborhood is fairly safe; he was just being dramatic.

The walk down the street is quick and slightly awkward, with you and Sunghoon stumbling every few steps yet refusing to hold onto the other for stability.

The two of you go your separate ways upon entering the shop, Sunghoon headed straight towards the snack aisle while you make your way to the slurpee machines. The difference in your priorities was humorous, with him wanting to focus on building up energy and you wanting nothing more than a quick sugar fix.

Blue raspberry isn't necessarily your go-to flavor, but it's the only flavor on the Slurpee machine that's currently working, so you fill your plastic cup to the brim before absentmindedly reaching for a straw.

Sunghoon is still prancing around the store by the time you've finished making your drink, and despite not being that hungry, you decide to kill time by strolling through the snack aisles.

The Snickers bars and Reese's Cups look tempting as always, but you refrain, sighing as you look over the selection of peanut-contaminated candy.

"Don't even bother," Sunghoon says from behind you, causing you to gasp in shock.

He pauses for a moment, staring at the array of snacks before grabbing a pack of Skittles and walking off.

The thought of Sunghoon being aware of your peanut allergy is as comforting as it is strange. You can't imagine this is something Minjeong randomly decided to tell him, and even if that is the case, why would he bother retaining that information? It's not like the two of you are friends.

Whatever, you're probably thinking about it too much.

After deciding on a package of powdered mini donuts and Haribo gummy bears, you proceed to the checkout counter and set your items down, looking over your shoulder at Sunghoon, who was selecting the last of his items.

The man behind the counter smiles at you, typing his employee ID number into the cash register, "How's your night going?"

"Horrible," you say, making the clerk laugh even though you weren't joking.

"Sorry to hear that," he responds, scanning your items, "your total came out to…$6.12. Oh, hello, officer."

Despite not having done anything wrong, you nearly panic before remembering Sunghoon's unfortunate costume choice.

He nods at the man, setting his own items down on the counter, "Add these too. You guys take Apple Pay?" He asks, unlocking his phone.

"Oh, you don't have to pay for mine," you say, a nervous tremble in your voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, "No big deal."

Except it is a big deal. Sunghoon behaving like a boyfriend gentleman by paying for your items only made you like him even more, which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.

You sigh, taking a literal and metaphorical step back as Sunghoon taps his phone on the card reader.

"A cop and a schoolgirl, huh? These couple's costumes are starting to make less and less sense," the employee comments, eyes darting between you and Sunghoon.

"We're not a couple," Sunghoon responds, a little too quickly for your liking, but whatever.

The employee apologizes, embarrassed about his implications as he bags your items and wishes the two of you a safe trip home.

On the way back to Sunghoon's car, it dawns on you that Minjeong has stopped trying to get ahold of you, which is slightly worrisome considering that she's a person who wouldn't give up that easily.

Sunghoon climbs into the backseat this time, mumbling something about needing to rest and stretch out before driving you home. He sets the bag down on the center console, grabbing a few of his items before propping himself up against the door.

You do the same, retrieving your own items from the bag before slumping into your seat.

When you finally unlock your phone, a new voice memo from Yuna is waiting for you. Hesitantly, you hold your phone against your ear and hit play.

Yuna lets out a loud sigh, "So, you and Minjeong must have some sort of, like, telepathic connection because she called me as soon as I hung up on you. Anyways, I told her our cousin was also at the party and was able to, uh, give you a ride home once the cops came. Oh, and I told her your phone died and that you'd call her, um, later or in the morning. I'm not sure if she believed it, but she calmed down.

And, by the way, I meant it when I said I don't want to be involved in whatever this is after tonight. So, for everyone's sake, if something serious is going on, do not tell me about it. Get home safe."

You're not entirely sure if you deserve a sister like Yuna, who'd go against her own morals just to cover for you, but you're grateful you have her.

you [11:54 pm] : *you liked a voice memo*

you [11:54 pm] : thanks so much

you [11:55 pm] : i promise i wont involve u anymore. if minnie calls again u can just ignore it and lmk please

yuna [11:56 pm] : oh and she told me to let you know that she's safe. tho im sure that's not your biggest concern :/

Harsh but true.

You set your phone on your lap and tear open your pack of donuts, wiping away the powdered sugar that falls onto your blouse. Much like the blue raspberry slurpee, mini powdered donuts weren't exactly your go-to snack, but your options were limited, and you weren't in the mood to roam around the store any longer.

Suddenly, Sunghoon groans from the backseat and sits up, "Phone died."

Leaning over the center console, he plugs his phone into the car charger right underneath his navigation system, resting it on the dashboard before returning to his seat.

The car falls silent, and as much as you want to start a conversation, you're not sure where to begin. There's so much you want to ask, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue so hard you're surprised the taste of blood doesn't fill your mouth.

Sunghoon leans forward again, this time resting his cheek on the side of your seat, "What'd you get?" he asks, staring down at your lap.

You turn your head to look at him, holding up the half-eaten pack of donuts for him to see.

"Can I have one?" he asks, already holding his hand out before you could even say yes.

You hand him one regardless, watching the powder fall from the pastry as he pops it into his mouth.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes at him as you ask, "Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

He nods, gesturing towards the remaining donuts in a way that tells you he wants more. You hand him the remaining three, nodding back when he mumbles "Thanks" under his breath.

"How did you know that I'm allergic to peanuts?"

Sunghoon pauses, brows furrowing in utter confusion as he looks up at you, "What do you mean?"

"Earlier in the store, I was looking at the peanut candy, and you told me not to bother. I'm assuming you must've known I'm allergic, right?" You ask, fully turning around in your seat to face him.

"Um…yeah. I know."

"Okay…how?"

"I mean, was it supposed to be a secret or something?"

"What? No, of course not. Allergies are probably the one thing that shouldn't be kept secret," you respond, "I'm just curious about how you know. I don't think I've ever told you, and I can't imagine Minjeong randomly deciding to tell you."

Sunghoon awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he avoids looking at you. It takes the tips of his ears turning pink for you to realize that he's embarrassed, which only confuses you even further.

Sunghoon shrugs, staring down at the snack you've just given him, "Whenever all of us would hang out, and there was, like, food involved, I just noticed you'd pay so much attention to the ingredients of whatever it was you were eating. At first, I thought it was a calorie thing, but you never really asked about the calories, only the ingredients."

"But, how'd you know it was peanuts specifically?" you ask, feeling embarrassed about how curious you were over something as silly as a peanut allergy.

"Remember the hockey team bake sale? The one I made those terrible brownies for?" He asks, continuing when you nod, "You were there, and I remember how excited you were to try the cookies that Jake made, but right before you bought one, you asked him if there were peanuts in them. That's when I knew."

You can't remember the last time someone had paid this much attention to you, and it's dangerous, considering how easily impressed you are by the smallest things. Sunghoon was by no means a friend of yours; you hardly knew anything about each other and often kept your interactions rather short, so his being able to pick up on your peanut allergy just by watching you was … different. Maybe even nice.

You don't even realize you've been staring at him until he stops chewing and stares back, unblinking.

You look away, retrieving your Slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long sip as Sunghoon watches.

"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.

You don't respond, side-eyeing him as you continue to sip your drink.

Sunghoon smirks, amused by your sudden silence, "Why'd you meet me in the bathroom?"

You pull the straw away from your lips, voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "To see what you wanted."

He nods, taking the cup from your hands, "You knew what I wanted," he says, pausing to take a sip of your drink, "and you still came; why?"

When you don't respond, Sunghoon lets out a loud sigh and sets your cup back down in its holder, "It's okay, YN."

"It isn't."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess we'll never know, huh?"

This is a test of your morals, and Sunghoon knows this. Every decision you've made tonight has led you to this exact moment. There's still enough time to redeem yourself and make an excuse for your actions. You could easily lie and say that making out with Sunghoon was just a result of being tipsy and vulnerable. But now, with the two of you in his car, sobering up and coming back down to your senses, you won't be able to use those same excuses.

Realistically speaking, what are the chances of your ex's finding out? Heeseung probably wouldn't care, but Minjeong was an entirely different story.

In your defense, they've been officially broken up for three weeks and three days, so you wouldn't technically be hooking up with her boyfriend. Right?

Sunghoon must've sensed the gears turning in your head because, after a few seconds of staring at each other in silence, he leaned over the center console and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss is softer this time, nothing like how it was in the bathroom as if he's trying to coax you in and convince you it's okay, that you're doing nothing wrong.

You find yourself slipping under his spell, eyes finally fluttering shut as he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. The faint taste of alcohol is still on his tongue, but he does taste much sweeter now, like the blue raspberry slurpee he'd just had. A part of you wonders if he'd done that on purpose as if tasting better would make you enjoy kissing him like this.

He pulls away, scooting farther back into his seat, "C'mere, climb over."

You do as you're told, slipping off your shoes with Sunghoon guiding you right onto his lap as you climb into the backseat. You can't help but squirm on his lap, and he can still sense a slight hesitancy in your actions, the way you shiver when he touches you, how you initially pulled back when he tried to kiss you again.

"You're nervous," he comments, eye flickering across your face.

You shrug, holding onto his shoulders for support, "I can't help it."

Beneath you, Sunghoon reaches down to unclip the handcuffs from his belt loop, "You're making it hard to focus."

"The fuck am I supposed to do, then?!" You didn't mean to shout, but your patience was starting to run thin. You felt guilty enough as it is, and Sunghoon reminding you of how nervous you are certainly didn't make it any better.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, undoing the handcuffs before grabbing your left hand. He tightens the cuff around your wrist, "Just trust me," he says simply. He sits up further in his seat, grabbing your cuffed wrist as he pulls down on the car's grab handle. He slips the empty cuff through the slot before gesturing for you to give him your free hand.

Fuck.

"Sunghoon…"

"Just trust me," he doesn't wait for a response, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up towards the empty cuff. It locks around your wrist with a click, causing him to smile in satisfaction.

You're sure that with just the right amount of force, you could easily snap the handcuffs in half, but it's the thought that counts. With your arms and hands restricted towards the ceiling, all you can do is stare down at Sunghooon and await his next movement, his very calculated movement.

He presses his cold lips against your neck, simultaneously using his hands to slowly unbutton your blouse. The mark he'd left on your neck earlier was as prominent as ever, and it pleased him to know you were okay with him marking you up like this. He swipes his tongue against the sensitive spot, hardening in his pants when you squirm on top of him.

His nails trace along the bare skin of your waist once he's finished unbuttoning your blouse, your bralette — that was a few sizes too small — fully on display for him. He's practically salivating at the site, his tongue sliding across his canines, completely in awe of your breasts spilling out of the flimsy, white material.

Sunghoon can't unclasp and slide off your bra, or else it'd be awkwardly hanging in the air, and trying to slip it through the handcuffs would take too much effort. Instead, he apologizes under his breath before his hands reach the front of your bra.

"Wait, Sunghoon—!"

Without warning, he stretches the fabric until it finally rips, seemingly pleased with himself if the cocky smirk is anything to go by. "Relax," he says, "I'll buy you a new one."

You don't have time to scold him because before you can even process what's happening, Sunghoon's tongue is swirling around your nipple. You swear at the sudden contact, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his face. It's almost embarrassing how such a simple act already had your head spinning.

His hands trail downward until they reach the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it upwards until it's bunched around your waist. He traces the tip of his finger across your clothes cunt, pleased with how wet you've already gotten without having done much.

Your hips buck up into his hands on instinct, desperate for the friction, borderline craving it.

Sunghoon releases your perked bud in his mouth, looking up at you as he asks, "You want me to stop?"

"No, please don't." You beg.

"So this is okay then, right?"

If your wrists weren't handcuffed to the grab handle, you're sure you would've reached down and choked him for all the teasing. "Yes, Sunghoon, it's okay! Just hurry up and do something!"

Sunghoon shakes his head at you, mumbling, "So impatient." as he moves to lie flat on his back.

You stare down at him, confused, when he doesn't immediately start undoing his pants but instead positions his head right between your thighs.

It's funny, Minjeong claimed Sunghoon wasn't really into giving head and only gave it to her a handful of times during the course of their relationship, claiming he preferred to save it for special occasions.

But yet, here he is, willingly pushing your thighs further apart before pressing his lips against your clothed cunt.

The action sends shivers down your spine, and the handcuffs around your wrist suddenly feel tighter. He presses his tongue flat against you, groaning at the taste of your slick that's soaked through your panties. You grind down on him instinctively, your body trembling with anticipation as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Fuck." You whisper, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration.

The sound of the metal clinking makes Sunghoon chuckle, pressing a final kiss against your damped underwear before mumbling, "Cute."

He makes quick work of sliding your underwear off your legs, tossing them to the

front seat with a grunt as you wait for him to continue. Sunghoon settles himself between your thighs again, groaning in annoyance as you hover over him. "Stop fucking hovering," he demands, attempting to pull you down directly onto his face, "it's fine."

It's too intimate; you've never even sat on Heeseung's face before, and you're sure this isn't something he's done with Minjeong.

"But, I don't wanna cru- fuck!"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries, forcing you down onto his face and instantly wrapping his lips around your clit. You barely have any time to process that this is completely new territory for you, being this intimate with a man, sitting right on his face while he drags his tongue along your cunt; gathering your wetness and dragging it up towards your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at that, leaning your head against the cold window as your face heats up. This only encourages Sunghoon even further, and his confidence grows, feeling bold enough to tease the tip of his tongue into your hole.

You jolt up at this, biting back a moan and wishing you could reach down and grab a fistful of his hair and properly ride his face. He licks another stripe up your folds, gripping your thighs and holding your body in place when you try to squirm away.

"Stop trying to run from me," he groans into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver across your body.

He presses his face further into your cunt, moaning at how much wetter you've gotten since he's started. For a man who apparently wasn't one to eat a girl out, he sure did seem desperate and eager to have you come on his face. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was doing it for his own pleasure rather than yours, which only turns you on even more.

After a few more slides of his tongue, you finally feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs tensing around Sunghoon's head.

"I know you're close," he whispers, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, "go ahead, use me. I know you want to."

He's practically begging at this point, big, wet eyes staring up at you in pure adoration as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. That's your breaking point, the knot in your stomach finally untying itself as your orgasm washes over you.

You let out a moan so loud that your throat hurts shortly afterward, your wrists going limp in the handcuffs as you ride out your high.

Sunghoon doesn't let up until you're practically shaking from overstimulation, your body naturally twitching and squirming away from his greedy mouth as he cleans you up. He pulls away finally, his mouth and chin completely coated with your slick as he leaves a trail of kisses on your bare thighs.

You can't help but stare down at him in awe; he looks completely dazed as if he's running off, nothing but pure desperation and lust for you. You.

"Sunghoon," you say, trying to get his attention, "I…do you keep condoms in here?"

He flutters his eyes open, shaking his head, "No, but 7/11's just down the street. I can go-"

You interrupt him with a shake of your head, "I don't wanna wait; we don't need one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill. Just, please, fuck me already."

It's music to his ears, really.

Sunghoon slides himself back up the seat, reaching up to release you from the handcuffs. You groan at this, having gotten used to them and quite frankly enjoyed the temporary feeling of restriction.

"You liked the cuffs?" Sunghoon questions, dropping your wrists from the grab bar.

"Yeah," you admit, "I liked it more than I thought I would."

He nods at this, and you realize now that one of the cuffs is still clasped around your wrist. Sunghoon also notices this and smirks as an idea forms in his head. "Turn around."

You comply with no further questions, groaning when he suddenly pushes your body down into the seat. He brings your arms behind your back, handcuffing you once more as he lets out a sigh of pleasure. "I knew you'd like it."

Sunghoon pushes your skirt back up, straddling himself around your things after pulling his pants and boxers far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, using the other to teasingly drag his fully-hardened cock across your slick folds.

Sunghoon shivers at this, cursing at the sight as he repeats his movements. He knows he won't last much longer; he was practically seconds away from coming in his boxers just from eating you out, so he really should quit with the teasing for his own sake.

Minjeong had never allowed him to fuck her without a condom, so this type of intimacy was new and overwhelmingly good.

He finally pushes himself into you, his tip alone causing you to bite down on the leather of his seat. You already felt so full, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

"Ah fuck," he groans, "you're so tight, you're so…fuck." He can barely even form a sentence, biting down on his bottom lip as he further inches himself inside of you.

You're not doing any better, feeling as if you're already seconds away from your second orgasm when he's hardly even done anything. It takes a minute before he's fully inside of you, pausing before he leans down and asks, "Can I move?"

"Please, I need you to."

Sunghoon nods at this, pressing a kiss against your ear before sitting himself back up. He angles your hips off the seat but presses your chest further into it, giving you (and himself) the perfect arch to comfortably slide in and out.

The first few thrusts are slow, as expected, but just enough to get you used to his size. Even this was all too much for Sunghoon; he was already dangerously close to his orgasm.

He didn't intend on speeding up his thrusts already, but he really can't help it. Everything about this feels too good. The way your walls perfectly wrap around him, and the way you're moaning and cursing for him to keep going are overwhelmingly good.

"Fuck." He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses you down further into the backseat. He pulls his cock all the way out before pushing himself back in, which you seem to enjoy. He does it a few more times, mostly to humor himself since it's something he assumed you would've been annoyed by.

"Sunghoon," you pant, "I'm close."

"Already?" He asks, pushing your hips downwards until you're lying flat on your stomach.

He tries to come off as cocky and frustrated, but he really is grateful you're already so close to your orgasm, seeing that he felt like he could burst at any given second.

You nod, "Please, keep going."

He doesn't respond, opting to remain silent as you pull his cock out of you before ramming it back in at a pace much harder and faster than before. His thrusts are sloppy and borderline desperate, the sound of skin slapping and grunts filling the air shortly afterward.

The two of you could hardly keep your eyes open, too lost in the pleasure of your approaching orgasms.

Your's hits first, and Sunghoon's follows shortly after, practically filling you up to the brim with his cum. You've never felt so full and warm, heat spreading through your entire body as you slowly calm down and regulate hour breathing.

Sunghoon doesn't feel like moving, but he does anyway, slipping himself out of you with a wince, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the seat of the car. He curses at the sight, stopping himself from leaning forward and eating it out of you.

He undoes both of the handcuffs this time, helping you sit up as you avoid eye contact with each other. "Hold on," he says, re-adjusting his pants and boxers, "I should have a towel or something in the trunk."

Sunghoon steps out of the car, returning a minute later with a towel in hand. He leans down, prepared to clean you up, until you stop him, "It's okay, I got it."

He shakes his head, "I can do it for you."

"It's fine," you say, buttoning up your shirt, "I'd prefer to do it myself, actually."

Sunghoon finally gives in, handing you the towel before leaning over the center console and retrieving your panties from the passenger seat. He waits patiently for you to finish up, instructing you to just drop the towel on the floor as he hands you your underwear.

"Hey, have you…do you think you've sobered up yet?" He asks, watching as you slip your panties back on.

"Yeah, why?"

"Before I met you in the bathroom, I took a few bites of an edible, and I think it's starting to kick in. I think you should drive."

You sigh, mostly because this was not at all what you'd been hoping he'd say. "Drive where? To your place? Then where would I go?"

"I can pay for your Uber home."

"Sunghoon, it's past midnight, and I'm a girl; taking an Uber this late is too dangerous."

"Then drive back to your place; I'll sleep in the car and drive off in the morning."

You groan, "No, Minjeong might visit me in the morning. What'll she think when she sees your car in my driveway?"

"Dammit, YN, then just spend the night at my place. You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch; just please drive us somewhere, for fuck's sake."

Bickering with Sunghoon somehow doesn't annoy you; in fact, it feels almost domestic. Going back and forth like a real couple.

"Fine." You say, climbing into the driver's seat.

Sunghoon's phone falls off the dashboard in the process, now charged at twenty-eight percent, and apparently, a missed text from Minjeong that was sent a few minutes ago.

The jealousy that fills your chest is downright abnormal; Minjeong is your best friend; there's no real reason for you to feel jealous of her in the first place.

In fact, you shouldn't feel any sort of guilt at all; it's not like they're still together. They've been broken up for three weeks and three days.

Three weeks. And Three days.

#enhypen smut #enhypen imagine #park sunghoon #sunghoon smut #sunghoon imagine #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #jake sim #enhypen scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #sleepyhoon

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the-boy-meets-evil · 2 months ago

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building blocks | yjh

(agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.)

pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to loveres | fluff, minor angst, attempt at humor, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: 19.7k (idk what to say atp) warnings: mentions of eating and drinking, jeonghan briefly drives a motorcycle, they're both engineering students but i don't claim to know engineering, the angst is minor because there's some miscommunication smut warnings: lots of kissing, hand job, fingering, slight voyeurism? (jeonghan watches reader finger herself), kind of loser!jeonghan, missionary sex, nothing really crazy all things considered

a/n: this is for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰 also thank you to everyone that helped me brainstorm along the way @ugh-yoongi @haologram @highvern and of course to @wqnwoos for letting me borrow her name.

note 2: this isn’t proofread. i had something come up irl and wanted to get it posted, so i’m sorry for any errors! i’ll come back to it next week when i have a minute.

(tag list at the end)

Your entire academic (and professional, for that matter) career has been a battle. A fight to be taken seriously. A fight to get the right classes. A fight to make the right connections. A fight for every inch that you’ve gotten. There are times that you wonder if it’s all worth it, wonder if anything should be as hard as this. But, all you’ve ever wanted was to be an engineer. To be able to leave your mark in some sort of meaningful way, even if that’s also a little conceited. It’s all you want and you’re so close to getting some much needed room to breathe.

Except…

You have to make it through one last semester of this damn Master’s program. You managed to find a sponsor to allow you to commit to a final semester full time, with only part time research work. That’ll put you in a good position to carry on for your PhD, with your dissertation topic already picked and funded. Things had been going entirely too smoothly, in hindsight. You should have known. Everything about your application to the upcoming program is perfect. Except for the final recommendation. And, of course, the professor to give that recommendation won’t just give it to you to recognize the years you’ve put into this. No. He implies that there’s something he needs from you.

Nothing really awful, in the grand scheme of things. Not for someone that does want to return as a lecturer at some point down the road. It’s just that you didn’t really want to be forced into a teaching assistant position for Professor Choi’s introductory structural engineering course. It’s the course that weeds out who’s actually going to carry on with the civil engineering branch of the Master’s program from those who may switch out to something that better suits them. Which, again, isn’t a huge deal, except that you remember how burnt out the TA looked from when you took the course and it’s the last thing you need during your final semester. It’s hard to know that some portion of your future hinges on doing this. It’s also hard to forget another friend of yours admitting Professor Choi had given him a recommendation without the hoops.

Whatever.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that.

So you schedule your regular meetings with the professor, make a separate email folder for all course related communication, jot down the important dates, and figure out which lessons you have to help plan. First up is going to be the introductory class. Professor Choi comes in and introduces himself while you distribute the syllabus, an odd task when everything is available online through the portal, but he likes things in hard copy. Once he’s done his introduction, he leaves the rest of the first class to you, as he had with the TA in your course during your first semester. For a moment, you consider pointing out that this is a Master’s level course and you don’t really need to do the typical introductions. Most of these people have busy lives and, even though they’ll have to work together on projects, can manage without syllabus week. But, Choi is old school and you know it. You also need his letter, so what’s the point in trying to change his system? You’re not here to do anything other than fill a spot that he was having trouble filling, get your letter, and go.

When you scan the roster before the first day, nobody particularly sticks out. There are a couple of relatively familiar names, though you’re not sure you can place faces to them, but most of the students seem to be in their first semester of the program. It only takes getting to the introductions for someone in the course to stick out, though.

“Well, I’ve always been good at building Legos. I figure, how different can it really be?” one student answers.

It takes everything in you to school your face back into a politely interested expression when the rest of the class bursts out laughing. Your initial reaction had been incredulity. Surely he couldn’t be serious. There’s no way someone just wandered into this program because he liked building Legos. The laughter from the rest of the class dies down and you keep your attention on him.

“Why did you really join the program?” you ask. That’s what every student was supposed to be sharing. A problem for this student, apparently.

“That is why I joined,” he says with an infuriating smirk.

“What did you say your name was?” you ask.

“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.

You consult the roster in front of you and put a star by his name. This is someone you know you’re going to have to keep an eye on.

“Did I get a star already?” he prompts, earning another few chuckles from his classmates.

“Something like that,” you say and then turn to the person next to him. “And why did you join?”

Nothing else grabs your attention during the remainder of the introductions. Several students volunteer what they’re hoping to get out of the program. One brave student says she’s heard that Professor Choi is tough before asking for your opinion. Although you give a neutral answer, you make a note to speak to her privately to address her (very valid) concerns.

When it comes time for you to return to speaking about the rest of the semester, you expect Jeonghan to interrupt in some way. He gives the impression of someone that likes causing a little bit of chaos or bringing attention to himself. Instead, he simply listens, notes something down occasionally, and gazes at you so intently that you nearly feel yourself flush. It would be a lot easier to ignore him if he didn’t look like some kind of model, though. You catch yourself looking at him more than once when other students are sharing answers. His nearly black hair falls in longer layers around his face, not quite reaching his collar in the back. There’s something almost delicate about his nose, about all of his face, really. His features are soft in a sort of beautiful way. It’s only when he catches you looking that you shake any consideration of his features from your mind.

Once there’s only a few minutes left, you dismiss the class with a reminder that your email is beneath Professor Choi’s on the syllabus and you’re always around to help them. This class, you share, can be daunting and you’re here to help them get through it in one piece. That part comes out genuine because you do mean it. None of these students are to blame for the position you’re in. It’s not their fault that they have a TA that doesn’t really want to be in the position. So, you’re not going to make them suffer. You’re going to help them just as the TA for your class helped you. You make a note to reach out to him and ask for some advice.

Jeonghan’s eyes linger on you as the other students get out of their seats and begin talking, mostly about what they’re most excited for in the coming semester. You have to break first and look down to collect some papers from the desk. It also helps to remind yourself this is the same student who said he joined the class because he likes Legos. Ridiculous. When you look back up at the class, you’re half expecting to see his attention is still on you. It’s not. He’s joined a few classmates and is leaving the room without a backward glance.

Legos, you remind yourself, and return to gathering your things.

The one good thing about all this is that it’s an evening course, designed for people that have to work during the day. When the class is over, you get to go straight home to eat dinner and meld into the couch with your roommate, who also happens to be your best friend.

You: i’m tired, want me to pick up food on the way home?

Bestie boo: i already called in an order from that one place you like so you can pick it up on the way home

You: wow who are you and what have you done with my best friend?

Bestie boo: i didn’t pay for it

You let out a snort because that’s exactly the friend you know and love. He has to cover up ordering your favorite food from your favorite restaurant, which is sweet, by reminding you he’s still a giant pain in the ass. The gesture is enough for you to ignore it and just let him have this win. Maybe you’re off your game, but you’re a little tired.

“You should watch where you’re going.”

The comment nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Sure, you scare easily as it is. But it’s worse when the voice comes out of seemingly nowhere. Of course it’s Jeonghan from your class, leaning against the wall just outside the building. His eyes glint at your reaction, like he’s enjoying it. Maybe he is. A second later, he pushes off from the wall to come closer.

“And you shouldn’t scare people like that,” you retort when your heart slows a bit. He’s looking at you conspiratorially. “Did you have a question from the class?”

“No,” he answers easily.

“So…” you start.

“Do you memorize the faces of all your students so quickly?” he wonders, continuing when you give him an odd look. “Or am I special?”

“You made an impression,” you say neutrally.

“A positive one?” he presses.

“I didn’t say that,” you counter.

“But, still, you remembered me. Unless you learn all your students' faces before class as TA duties,” he says.

You sigh and decide to give him a partial truth, one that’s less likely to bite you than admitting his face is one of the only ones you remember. “I haven’t been a TA before so I don’t have a manual for how I’m going to approach it.”

“Happy I get to be your first, then,” he says and turns to walk away. He turns back over his shoulder with a wicked smile and calls, “see you next class!”

Your mind is preoccupied all the way to the restaurant to pick up the food and all the way back to your apartment. It’s only been one day of class and you can already feel that this student is going to be a menace. Worse than that, he seems like he knows he’s getting under your skin and wants to press it even further. Realistically, you just have to get through any of the classes that you lead. Otherwise, he’ll be the professor’s issue.

Seungkwan is waiting on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on his phone when you walk into the living room, takeout containers in hand. It’s relatively familiar, though you know that he also likes to be out whenever he can. A perpetual social butterfly.

“Today was already fucking annoying,” you moan when you set the boxes down and flop onto the couch.

Seungkwan gives you a sympathetic look. “At least you’re one step closer to getting what you need from that idiot.”

You’re confused for a moment because you hadn’t been thinking of Professor Choi at all. “Oh, yeah, no. I wasn’t talking about Choi.”

“What was the issue then?” Seungkwan asks as he leans forward to get his food.

“There’s this guy in the class and I don’t know. I can’t figure him out,” you offer. “He’s so annoying. Like who signs up for a structural engineering class just because he likes building Legos? And that smirk. Ugh. I hate him.”

“Sure sounds like it,” Seungkwan quips.

“Fuck off, I do,” you double down.

“What’s he look like? Is he cute?” he wonders.

“Does it matter?” you ask.

“No. You answered anyway,” Seungkwan says with a grin.

“Fine, yes he is attractive because for some reason I’ve been cursed. Why do all you annoying people in my life also have to be hot?” you whine, casting a look at your roommate.

“Did you just call me hot?” he barks through a laugh.

“Fuck off, just pick a show. It’s your turn,” you say with a push on his arm.

You make it through the first few classes as a TA without much to report. Jeonghan tries your patience, but there’s not much he can do during the class and he doesn’t linger afterwards. That’s usually when Professor Choi wants to debrief on the course material and make sure the next class is ready. The class is also just starting to get into the real material and away from the foundational information.

But, now the course is well and truly underway, which means you have to announce that you’ll be starting to hold your own office hours every week. Of course, Choi also has office hours and students could take advantage of those. Probably would, if not for the fact that he encourages the class to go to you first to try and resolve anything. Something about how he’s very busy and that’s why he has a TA. It’s exhausting and just another obstacle in getting what you need.

After getting feedback from the class, you decide to set two different times for office hours, one during the late afternoon and one during the early evening to accommodate schedules. A few students show up right at the start of your first office hours session with similar concerns. So, you invite them in and start to work through a few practice problems to illustrate the point that they’re struggling to understand. It’s actually surprisingly easy to work in this way. You would never admit it to Professor Choi, but it’s actually kind of enjoyable. There’s value in helping someone understand a difficult concept. It’s also really rewarding to watch the comprehension dawn on the faces around you as each of them seems to grasp what you’re saying.

Honestly, you can’t imagine your first office hours going any better when you’re already an hour into it and you’ve been working with the same three students. Of course, just as they’re gathering their things to head out, feeling more confident than when they showed up, Jeonghan appears in the doorway. He doesn’t even say anything at first, just looks around at the other students. They seem oblivious to what’s happening around them.

“Thanks again,” one student says as he’s standing up.

Another student catches sight of Jeonghan and she smiles. “Oh, sorry Jeonghan. We didn’t know you were having trouble with any of the concepts or we would have asked you to join us.”

“That’s fine,” he says easily. “I was busy until just now anyway.”

“Do you all feel confident with the topics? Or would you like to stay and go over something now that Jeonghan is here?” you ask, trying not to appear hopeful. (And failing at that pretty miserably.)

“Oh no, we’re definitely set. And we had plans,” the first student says with a look over at Jeonghan.

The three of them exchange goodbyes with Jeonghan and head out, allowing Jeonghan to close the door behind them before plopping into a seat at the table in your office. He’s directly across from you, which makes it hard to avoid his eyes. When you do meet his eye, though, he’s got a sneaky, all-knowing look on his face. You don’t like the loot of it one bit.

“What’s with the look?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” he retorts quickly.

“You’re making a face,” you say.

“Are you saying you don’t like my face?” Jeonghan asks, pretending to be offended.

“Why are you here, Jeonghan?” you ask to switch tactics.

“These are your office hours. I’m here to ask questions about the material,” he says.

“You don’t need any help with the material so far. I’ve graded your problem sets and the answers have been perfect,” you admit.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he muses.

“I’m not answering that. It brings me back to my question, though. If you don’t need help, why are you here?” you press.

“Why does it seem like you don’t like me?” he asks.

“I don’t have any feelings about you either way,” you deflect.

“Now, that’s not true,” he disagrees.

“You’re determined to get under my skin,” you say, half as a joke.

“Determined to figure you out,” he corrects. “It doesn’t seem like you’re all that excited about being a TA.”

“That’s because I was forced into it,” you blurt out and immediately clap a hand over your mouth. That’s the last thing you meant to say. “I didn’t mean…”

“Now we’re getting somewhere in this relationship,” he says, sitting back into his seat with a satisfied smile.

You heave another heavy sigh, a common occurrence around this man. “Why are you so determined to figure me out? Why do you care how I feel about you?”

“Because everyone seems to like me right off the bat,” he says.

“I can see why,” you deadpan.

“So can I stay? Or do you have very important things to do?” he asks.

“It’s my office hours, so I’m here to help students until the two hours are up,” you admit.

“Perfect.”

The next few times that you hold office hours feature Jeonghan showing up for the second half. It seems deliberate that he doesn’t show up right when they start, especially because you always have at least one other student in your office. If there’s another student there, he joins in to ask questions along with whoever else is there. When it’s just him, his questions are much more personal. It’s obvious that he wants to know you. Know your likes and dislikes, know the things that make you tick, know who you are when you’re not at school. Seems very convinced that the version of you outside the walls of the engineering building is very different from the one he sees. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to realize that he’s slowly getting more and more of a peek into who you really are. Thankfully, he doesn’t bring up your slip about being forced into being a TA.

It doesn’t make it any easier to be around him.

It should. You should be able to get used to his particular brand of torture. Yet, with each new piece of information you learn, you unlock even more questions. It’s like you can’t ever really figure him out. Or maybe that he doesn’t want you to. He’s very careful to give vague answers about the serious things, while he goes on and on about the things that don’t matter. He’ll spend a solid five minutes talking about the latest Lego he’s building, but then breeze past the few questions you ask about him personally. It usually includes some sort of quip about how he’s wearing you down and how you clearly want to know him better.

“Bet you thought you were escaping me today,” a voice says, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp. Your heart beats a mile a minute as you look up to glare at the intruder.

“No, Yoon Jeonghan. I can see the confusion, though,” he says and you sigh heavily.

“Office hours are almost over,” you point out.

“Not for 20 more minutes,” he counters.

“Right, but I was in the middle of grading something,” you say, indicating the design plans in front of you. He glances over at them.

“Hm,” he says.

“What, Jeonghan?” you ask with exasperation.

“Just doesn’t look like mine is all,” he says and plops into the chair across from you.

“Well obviously,” you say. “Can’t exactly grade your project with you sitting here.”

For some reason, that makes him break out into a wicked grin. “So you aren’t grading my assignment because you were hoping I’d show up.”

Ah, yes. Now you see your mistake. Should have definitely seen that coming, too. “You’ve come to every other session. I wasn’t hoping you’d show up again, but it was a fair assumption that you might.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” he says placatingly. “D’you have a question?” you ask. The tension headache you associate with Jeonghan’s presence in your life is threatening to make an appearance.

“Nope,” he says, popping the last syllable.

A notification on your phone stops you from responding to him and you unlock it immediately. It seems that Professor Choi needs to give you a stack of assignments and instead of just walking a few doors down the hall, he had to send a message. You drop your phone back on the desk with the message still open and take a calming breath.

“Everything good?” Jeonghan asks with more care than you’re used to.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back. Have to go pick something up from Professor Choi’s office,” you say, already on your feet and heading towards the door.

It only takes a minute or two for you to go and come back. For once, you’re thankful for Jeonghan because it gives you the ready-made excuse that you’re just wrapping up office hours with a student waiting for you to return. He doesn’t need to know that student hasn’t ever asked you a class related question without another student present. You’ll take the wins where you can get them. The pain in ass in question is still sitting exactly where he was when you left him.

He looks up at you as you walk back in, set the folders on the corner of your desk, and sit back down. “You really hate Professor Choi.”

“I didn’t say that,” you counter quickly. Probably too quickly.

“You didn’t have to. Sometimes you have a really expressive face,” he comments and looks back down at his phone.

“Only sometimes?” you wonder. Jeonghan looks back up to regard you.

“It’s always expressive, but you work a little harder to control it in class than you do outside of it,” he decides. “You mentioned something about being forced into this. Why be a TA if you hate it?”

“I don’t actually hate being a TA,” you clarify. He seems to accept this at face value. “It’s just…I didn’t…no. Why am I doing this with you?”

“Because I’m asking?” he offers.

“I had never considered being a TA. I wasn’t opposed to it, I just hadn’t really fit it into my schedule. It has been a lot of fun, though,” you say. It’s the first time you’ve noticed how much attention Jeonghan gives you. The way his eyes are on you and it seems like he tunes out any other distractions.

“How did you end up here, then?” he asks. Any teasing or lightness is gone from his tone.

“Please don’t make me regret giving you the honest answer,” you say warily. “But, I’m applying for my PhD program. I have everything that I need…except for a final letter of recommendation.”

“Oh, you’re joking,” he says and actually does look offended on your behalf. “He’s making you TA for him in exchange for the letter? That’s why you said you were forced into it?”

“Yup,” you respond, popping the end of the word like he had done earlier..

“Well, that’s definitely shitty but I’m still counting myself lucky that you ended up with this class,” he says.

“I can’t figure you out,” you admit.

“I know.”

That should be annoying, the way he says that he knows you can’t figure him out. It’s like he’s not even trying to hide that he’s making it difficult to get to know him. Yet, he’s not making it a secret that he wants to get to know you better. There’s just something about him that prompts you to share things you wouldn’t with anyone else. No, that’s dramatic. It’s just easier to share with him than it usually is with someone else that you barely know.

Despite asking again if Jeonghan has any questions, he insists that he’s fine with just sitting there to keep you company while you have to wait to see if any student comes by in the last minutes of your office hours. For a change, he doesn’t ask any personal questions. Doesn’t try to press you into admitting things that you usually wouldn’t. He just takes out his laptop to make it look like you’re actually helping him in the event that anyone checks in on you.

Nobody does. The last few minutes pass quickly with you returning to grading the assignment you had been working on. The two of you gather up your things in relative silence and Jeonghan walks with you out to your car so that you can head home. You’re expecting something else or something different, but that’s all there is. Just a walk to your car, a smile with a goodbye, and him heading off in another direction. It’s somehow the strangest and most normal interaction you’ve had with him. It makes you pause to wonder if this is the real version of him. A little quiet, a little reserved. Not being a menace to anything and anyone in his path.

It’s not until you’re back home, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine while watching some variety show with Seungkwan that you realize it wasn’t quite the normal interaction you thought it was.

Jeonghan: i appreciated you telling me the truth about the class today

The message lights up your screen and all you can do is stare at it without being able to believe it. How are you getting a message from Jeonghan with his contact information saved? You’re racking your brain trying to figure out if you gave him your number, or saved his, and just didn’t remember.

“What’s with your face?” Seungkwan asks.

“Wow, that was nice,” you retort.

He looks over at your phone where the notification still shows a message from Jeonghan. “Finally gave him your number, huh?”

“No, I -” you start when another message comes in.

Jeonghan: you left your phone unlocked when you went to Choi’s office and I figured it was time for us to exchange numbers

Seungkwan, now more invested in your messages than in the show in the background, lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “Wow, he’s good. I see why you like him.”

“I don’t like him, Kwan,” you sigh.

“Sure,” he says dismissively.

As if to prove something, you make a show of moving your phone over to the end table and turning it over. Seungkwan gives you a Look that plainly says he’s not buying whatever it is you’re trying to sell. Otherwise, he lets you go back to the show that you’re watching without bringing it up again.

The text thread with Jeonghan seems to haunt you every time you open your messages, at least until there are enough conversations to push it out of your view. Surprisingly, you don’t get any more texts from him when you don’t answer. He also doesn’t show up to your next office hours, which is a bit odd to you. And you can’t vent to Seungkwan about it because he’s still very convinced that it’s only a matter of time before you end up sleeping with Jeonghan. Ridiculous, honestly. Like you would waste your time on someone you’re not even sure you like.

That carries you through to your next class. It’s a slightly more complicated lecture that Choi does every semester to try and scare students off this path. He claims it’s so that everyone knows what they would be getting into. You suspect that it’s his way of reminding everyone just how smart he is. Not exactly the most flattering trait, but you suppose that he probably doesn’t care about that. Doesn’t need to. He’s been teaching so long that his job is guaranteed at this point.

The good thing, though, about knowing Choi won’t need you during the entirety of the class is that you get to just sit at the back of the class and do some work. It gives you the chance to get through grading some of the assignments for the class without having to take time away from something else. Let’s you get absorbed into that to tune out the grating sound of Choi’s monotonous voice as he tries his best to warn students off the path. You’re so absorbed that you don’t notice the way that Jeonghan periodically glances over his shoulder to where you’re sitting, trying to catch your attention even for a moment.

When the class comes to an end, you make your way up to the front as you would any other time. It’s a little irritating to have to check if there’s anything Professor Choi needs like you’re his personal assistant, but you’re also resigned. What you’re not prepared for, though, is that he calls Jeonghan up to the front of the room.

“Yes, Professor?” he says with so much respect and deference that it almost feels real, if you didn’t know how he feels. One of the only personal things you actually know about this mystery of a man..

“I really enjoyed your proposal for the final project using Legos,” Choi starts. “Every few semesters, I get someone that seems to think being good at using plastic building blocks means they’d make a good engineer. But, you’ve actually been doing wonderfully in the class. So, I want you to work with my TA here to refine the idea a little bit. I don’t think you’re meeting your full potential with it yet.”

“Oh, well Professor Choi…” you start and he waves a hand.

“Surely it isn’t a problem to help foster the best student in my class, is it?” he challenges.

“No, of course not,” you concede.

Professor Choi wears a triumphant smile. “Good. I’ll leave the two of you to coordinate your schedules. See you next class, Mr. Yoon.”

The formality of calling students by their family names nearly makes you roll your eyes. It’s only when you note the glint in Jeonghan’s eyes that you catch yourself. The two of you say your goodbyes and a silence settles in Choi’s absence.

“Should I just stop by your office hours tomorrow?” he asks when it’s clear you aren’t going to say anything.

“Sure, that works,” you say. “You stop by most of them anyway.”

“Does it bother you that I do?” he asks, a note of something you can’t detect in his tone. Maybe vulnerability.

That makes you soften. “No, of course not.”

“I can back off if it’s making you uncomfortable,” he says with a forced smile. “Maybe it was too much adding my number to your phone.”

“We can talk about boundaries when I see you during office hours tomorrow,” you joke. At least it seems to bring a real smile back to his face.

In a strange turn of events, Jeonghan shows up to your office hours only two minutes after they start. You haven’t even gotten yourself fully unpacked because you weren’t expecting him to show up at the beginning. Not when he seems to show up in the latter half every other time.

The differences continue as you settle into the work the professor assigned the two of you. Jeonghan pulls out his proposal, something you hadn’t actually seen yet, and talks you through his ideas. His idea had been to submit a design for a brand new structure built to scale entirely using Legos. It’s ambitious in a way because the blocks only come in certain shapes and sizes. You can’t just cut something down to fit the size that you need. It requires a good amount of forethought. But, for someone like Jeonghan who’s taken to the course like a fish to water, it doesn’t seem like it’s quite enough. You can see why the professor asked you to help him work through it a little bit more. It needs to be fleshed out a little further.

As the two of you go back and forth with ideas about how to give it an element that makes it more impressive, you’re stuck by how easy it is to work side-by-side with him. How well the two of you work together. It’s like every visit before this has been building up to the level of comfort you have now, even if you’re still pretending that you don’t really know him. Maybe you don’t, though. It’s not like he ever gives you real answers to your questions.

“Why Legos?” you ask as the two of you are feeling stuck on where to go to expand on the proposal.

“Because it’s funny to see how annoyed you get when I bring it up, so I figured it would be funny to imagine you grading my final project that has to do with Legos,” he says with that same look.

“Be serious for once, Jeonghan,” you sigh. “I’m trying to help you with this. It’s the least you could do.”

“Sorry,” he says after a moment and shifts in his seat. “It’s, well, it’s just always been the way that I zone out and reset. At first, it was just when I needed a break from dealing with people because I had to focus on the instructions. Then, I started to think about how impressive it was that they were able to form these insane shapes with building blocks. Then, it started to get more elaborate with me testing out what worked and what didn’t when I built my own designs.”

It’s one of the first truly real and truly honest things he’s said to you. Not hiding behind a joke or brushing off an answer. It’s just him and you feel like that one response helps you know him better than all the hours he’s spent in your office up until that point. It also helps you realize what the proposal was missing in the first place: something personal from him.

Ultimately, what is going to make this project stand out is something that makes it personal. A structural engineer doesn’t really need to design a building or a bridge or any other structure. They do need to design and analyze any of the support systems, though, which can be a dull job at times. Adding something more human will make it stand out. So, you suggest that Jeonghan take it a step further than just modeling a structural support system from Legos. You suggest that he set it up almost like instructions for an established set. But, instead of simple drawings to make it step by step, you suggest that he include little snippets about his previous experiences with using Legos, how he tests it to make sure he structure will hold, and any calculations he does for load capacity and gravity.

Initially, he seems a little unsure. It’s easy to see that talking about things that are more personal to him, especially for a final project, is uncomfortable. After a lot of reassurances that nobody but you and Professor Choi will see it if he doesn’t want them to, he finally agrees that it’s a good idea. It does seem like he’s at least excited about the prospect now, though.

While he’s rewriting his proposal to submit to the professor, you get back to what you had planned to do during the first part of your office hours before he showed up: grading assignments. Once again, his isn’t on the stack to be graded. Out of habit, you always grade his first and some time when he’s guaranteed to not be around. It’s oddly comfortable to work like this, grading papers while he types away on his laptop across from you.

Once he gets through typing up a new proposal, he asks if you would be willing to read it over. You’re just about to suggest that he email it to you, when he just hands his laptop over. Seems unconcerned about having you his laptop. Although he watches you carefully as your eyes scan through the words, it feels like his only concern is what you think about it. Which doesn’t need to be a concern at all. It’s perfect, as far as you’re concerned.

You tell him as much when you look up with a smile. “I love it.”

“Don’t be nice to me now,” he says nervously as you hand the laptop back over.

“What?” you ask.

“You don’t need to spare my feelings now when you’ve been ignoring my texts,” he says like he’s trying to protect himself.

“So much to unpack there and we’ll return to the texts,” you say, a little exasperated. “But, I’m not being nice about the proposal. It’s perfect and I genuinely can’t find a single thing I’d change. Choi’s going to love it.”

“Ah, well, he was right in getting your help. I wouldn’t have gotten here on my own,” he admits and it does actually make you smile again.

“Still your idea,” you say to encourage him.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” he says and you know it’s the real him for a moment.

“Okay, but back to the texting,” you say to shift.

“The boundaries chat, wonderful,” Jeonghan says, returning to his previous mask of being a menace.

“You really shouldn’t be going through a stranger’s phone and adding your number,” you chastise.

“We’re not strangers though, are we?” he challenges. “And I didn’t go through your phone.”

“No?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Your phone was still lit up when you left so I called myself quickly and then created a new contact, and then locked your phone and put it back,” he says like it’s the most normal sentence in the world.

“That’s insane?” you state with a level of shock.

“I really wasn’t trying to cross some sort of line,” he admits with a shocking level of sincerity. “I just really like getting to know you and I figured you’d feel weird about giving a student in your class your number, even though you’re still a student as well. So, I just wanted to make it easier. If you don’t want me to have it, you can delete it right out of my phone.”

Jeonghan holds his unlocked phone out to you and it’s open to your contact. For some insane reason, you do actually believe what he said. It’s easy to see how he might want to befriend you and be hesitant on how to do that. He strikes you as the kind of person that can put on a mask of liking to be social, but really would much rather be at home or in a small setting like in your office with you. And you do actually enjoy having him around, even if you keep trying to pretend that he’s basically a stranger to you. He’s not wrong, either. You would have felt weird about exchanging numbers with him. You’ll never admit that to him.

He must see the hesitation on your face because he retracts his hand. Waits for you to say something, though. “I guess it’s not the worst thing that you have my number.”

“That’s almost a positive,” he jokes. “You could give a guy false hope that you actually might be starting to like me.”

“Oh, now I wouldn’t go that far,” you quickly tack on. “Wouldn’t want you to get a big head.”

“Have you seen the grades I’m getting? I already know I’m doing something right,” he brags.

“I have seen your grades since I’m usually the one grading them,” you remind him. “So, I have to balance it out.”

“You just wanna break my heart over and over again,” he whines.

“You’ll survive,” you deadpan.

Everything seems to carry on as it always does. You have to make sure you’re keeping up with all of your actual classes for your degree. Grade assignments when Professor Choi hands them off to you. Give feedback on the upcoming topics. Most importantly, you find plenty of time to disengage from all the hustle of classes. To enjoy time with friends where you can let your brain just wander onto things that don’t matter nearly as much.

Even though you don’t ever text Jeonghan first, it doesn’t seem deterred because you do always answer the messages that he sends to you. Some of them are idle thoughts throughout the day. Others are questions that he wants answers to and seems to think he’s more likely to get them over text than during the hours he spends in your office. Your favorites, though, are when he texts you some wildly out of pocket statement and then gets you to debate him on it because it’s always something completely inane. Something meaningless. It gets you so fired up, though.

“He’s so infuriating,” you complain as you forcely set your phone down on the couch next to you.

“I’m guessing we’re talking about Jeonghan,” Seungkwan says from his position on the other end of the couch.

“Why would you immediately jump to Jeonghan?” you ask.

“Bestie, we haven’t talked about anyone else but Jeonghan all semester,” he says. You fling a pillow at your roommate.

“First, you’re being dramatic. And second, yes I talk about him a lot. He’s infuriating,” you say.

“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan says dismissively.

“I might hate him,” you say.

“They say hate sex is the best sex,” he says without taking his eyes off his phone.

“And they say killing your nosey roommate isn’t actually a crime,” you retort.

Seungkwan looks up at you and smiles. “Let’s do it baby. I know the law.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Vernon,” you scoff.

“Maybe, but if you kill me, who’s going to lend their ear to you and listen to your troubles?” he asks.

“Van Gogh,” you answer immediately.

“He’s dead,” Seungkwan says with an arched eyebrow, carefully avoiding the more obvious retort.

“And so are you to me right now,” you say flatly.

“Touche,” he says with a light laugh. “What’s he done this time that’s got you all pissy?”

“He’s spent the last 20 minutes debating with me over whether or not a hotdog is a sandwich,” you say, expecting Seungkwan to think it’s just as ridiculous as you.

What you’re not expecting, though you should be, is for him to pick up Jeonghan’s side in the debate and make you rehash everything you’ve already talked about. It sounds like such an innocuous topic. Something so outlandish that it could possibly spark debate for more than a few minutes. Yet, here you are, having the same debate all over again. It makes you even more heated despite not having a stake or opinion before Jeonghan asked you. In fact, you had never even considered the question. It was one of the most effective he had posed since he started sending you random questions or opinions like this.

Somehow, though, your biggest mistake is telling Jeonghan that your roommate got just as invested as he had about the topic. Worse when you told Jeonghan that Seungkwan was on his side. It made it immediately obvious that you could not ever let those two meet. It would spell an instant demise for any remaining sanity you had left. The realization that they would be instant best friends is terrifying.

The debate about whether or not hotdogs are sandwiches lasts all the way until the next day when Jeonghan shows up at your office hours, right at the start. The look on his face tells him that he’s about to carry on the text conversation. But, thankfully, he falls silent when you say that you actually want to get some grading done unless he actually has a question about the course material. It makes him soften, actually, and he agrees that he’ll sit at the little table and work on some of his own homework. It doesn’t really give the impression that he’s asking you for help, though you’re sure that you could sell it if you needed to.

Normally, it’s not all that distracting to have Jeonghan in your space. Probably because he’s there so often that you’re kind of used to him by now. That’s a thought you don’t allow yourself to dwell on too long. It’s easier to maintain the idea that you kind of hate him than to consider what your real feelings might be. Yet, those thoughts seem to be swirling in your head just by him existing in the same space as you. If he’s equally affected, then you can’t tell. His fingers seem to fly across his keyboard as he works steadily on something.

Without warning, his voice interrupts the rhythm you finally find. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve never asked permission before,” you note, but don’t look up.

“I wasn’t sure if it was an office hours question,” he says with a little hesitation.

That does get you to look over at him. “Is it about the course material?”

“No,” he says.

“Shocking,” you sigh. “Well, whatever it is, let’s have it.”

“Do you want to go out and get dinner sometime?” he asks, looking more vulnerable than usual.

It’s enough to make your heart both constrict and threaten to beat out of your chest. Does he know that you’ve been sitting here internally debating what your actual feelings towards him are? Has it been that obvious on your face?

“With you?” you ask to buy yourself time.

“That would be the idea, yes,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“I don’t know…” you start.

“You don’t know because you’re trying to spare my feelings? Or you’re not sure for some reason?” he asks to clarify.

That’s such a crossroads kind of question. You’re not actually sure what the answer is yourself. All you know is that you feel immediate panic at the thought of one of the professors, especially Professor Choi, seeing you out with him. It’s not that there are any rules about TAs and students dating. After all, TAs are just students themselves. But, since you’re doing most of the grading, setting some of the assignments, and even leading some of the classes, it’s frowned upon. It could give the student actually in the class some kind of perceived advantage. The thoughts just go rapidly flying through your brain as you look over at Jeonghan’s expectant face.

You decide on some version of the truth: that it doesn’t matter what you think, it’s not a good idea for you to blur that line. That if someone from the university saw you out, that it could possibly jeopardize everything you’ve spent years working on. That Professor Choi seems even more old school than most of the other professors. You’ve already sacrificed so much. It’s just not a risk you think you can take.

What you don’t say: that the question actually confuses you. That you can see yourself saying yes to finally figure out what exactly it is that’s going on with you and Jeonghan. You wonder what type of place he would pick. Wonder what he’s like when it’s really just the two of you without the risk of someone else butting in. You wonder if maybe he’ll answer all those personal questions that he’s so fond of dodging when he’s sitting in your office. It actually makes you wonder if saying yes is worth taking a risk when you’ve been so careful with everything in your entire academic career. It’s the kind of thought that really terrifies you even more. This is a man that you can’t even figure out your feelings towards and yet you’re considering taking a massive risk.

It’s one of the most intense office hours you hold and you’re left with more questions than answers.

It’s been another exhausting day between your own classes, research, and doing work as a TA. Sure, there are definite upsides to your schedule. It helps you feel like you have a complete grasp on the material. It also helps you feel like you might be well suited to being a lecturer or even a professor yourself down the line. You also know that you’re giving more to your time as a TA than you need to. It’s just that you don��t want to leave anything to chance. The stronger the recommendation from Choi, the better.

When you get to your apartment, Seungkwan is in the kitchen with Vernon and Chan. Which should be a concerning sight, since none of them are exactly great cooks, but you’re too tired to really care. You’re also kind of starving and whatever they’re making smells good. What’s the worst that could happen? So you call out quick greetings before heading into your room to drop off your things and change. You reemerge to the sounds of them bickering back and forth.

“Hey, do you want to try some of what we’re making?” Chan calls.

“She’s going to say no,” Seungkwan says.

“I’m starving. I’m down to try whatever it is,” you disagree.

“Looks like Chan wins this one,” Vernon teases.

A beep from your phone distracts you from engaging in the bickering back and forth. It’s the last thing you’re expecting, though it shouldn’t be. Ever since Jeonghan managed to get your number, and heard your half-hearted chat about boundaries, he’s been bothering you whenever he feels like it.

Jeonghan: have you thought about what I asked? You: no Jeonghan: don’t believe you You: my answer hasn’t changed Jeonghan: that it's not a good idea? You: exactly Jeonghan: that’s not a no You: isn’t it? Jeonghan: listen, I respect you and if you tell me no, I won’t ask again Jeonghan: the only thing I’m going to ask if you actually think about it before saying no You: fine

“Hello? Are you there?” Seungkwan asks, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Huh?” you ask.

“Oh, she’s gone girl,” Chan says with a laugh.

“Who were you texting?” Seungkwan asks. He gives you a look that screams he’s about to tease the shit out of you if you’re honest.

“Oh, nobody important. Just a friend,” you say dismissively.

“Are we calling Jeonghan a friend now?” Seungkwan teases.

“It wasn’t Jeonghan,” you say with an eye roll.

“Who’s Jeonghan?” Vernon asks.

“I think he’s that guy we’ve been betting on when she’s gonna finally give in and sleep with him,” Chan says in an undertone to Vernon.

“I’m not going to sleep with…hang on. What the fuck?” you ask, wheeling around on Seungkwan. “Have you been betting on me again?”

“Only when you’re being an idiot,” Seungkwan says with a shrug.

“Wait, again?” Vernon asks.

“Bro, we have been involved in other bets,” Chan says.

“I need new friends,” you grumble.

From there, it devolves into the usual bickering that you associate with your friend group. Sometimes you wonder how you even got so sucked into this friend group where they’re two or three years younger than you. You’re incredibly thankful for them, though, even in moments like this where you want to strangle them.

Dinner moves into watching something and playing a game. It always goes the same way. Chan or Vernon take care of picking what to watch since they watch more TV and movies than you and Seungkwan. Conversely, Seungkwan usually picks the game, which is never a good idea because he always picks something that he’s good at. It doesn’t really matter to you, at least. Your brain tends to be fried from classes and research and all that. It’s nice to let them just make the decisions and chime in when you have something to say.

Thankfully, the conversations quickly move past your friends and their complete conviction that you have feelings for Jeonghan to much less serious topics. Sitting there, though, you feel an overwhelming sense of peace even in the chaos. Even when you say that you need new friends, you know that you wouldn’t trade these friends for the world.

It’s been just over a week since you promised to give Jeonghan’s question actual thought. You’re still not entirely sure why you agreed. It’s not like you’re actually going to say anything other than no. It’s been a little weird, though, because Jeonghan hasn’t brought it up again, either. It’s like he’s actually been true to his word. He even skipped your office hours when he would usually show up just to bother you and pretend to ask questions.

Since your workload has been a little light, you agree to go out for drinks with Seungkwan and some friends. It’s a much needed night to unwind and just not think about any of the issues that plague you during the week. It’s a night of ridiculous conversations while you all give each other a hard time about nothing that really matters. Eventually, as is always the way it goes, Seungkwan gets up and kicks off some karaoke. It’s a blessing and a curse. He’s got an amazing voice and you feel like you should be paying to hear someone sing that well. But, then he wants other people to join him and none of you are that keen to embarrass yourselves by following him.

Casting your eyes around the bar, they land on someone in a leather jacket. As you watch, he shrugs it off and sets it on the back of his chair. There’s something compellingly beautiful about him. He runs a hair through his short, perfectly textured black hair and turns his face slightly to the side. You’re appreciating his profile for a second before it hits you. This isn’t some stranger. It’s Jeonghan. It’s just that he’s clearly cut his hair and styled it differently. You quickly return your eyes to your group and only can hope that he hasn’t noticed you yet. Then again, Seungkwan has been loud and singing before returning to your table. Most people seem to have noticed him. Still, since Jeonghan hasn’t texted you or come over to say anything, you figure that maybe he hasn’t seen you. No matter what, you down another drink to forget about checking him out.

By the time it’s your turn to go up to the bar and get another round of drinks, you’ve mostly pushed the thought of Jeonghan out of your mind. With your back to his table, it’s been much easier to act like he doesn’t exist. Once you’re at the bar, it’s a little more difficult. Your eyes find his table without even meaning to. His jacket is still there, but he’s not.

“Looking for me?” a soft voice asks from just beside you.

It makes you jump a little to realize that he’s somehow right next to you. You try your hardest to act like you’re unaffected when you turn to face him. Try to act like you didn’t realize he was there. Kind of fail at that, honestly, because you’re one drink past the point of being able to pull it off. “Hey, Jeonghan. How long have you been here?”

He smiles that mischievous smile that always makes him look like he knows something that you don’t. “I saw you looking over at my table. You knew I was here.”

“I almost don’t recognize you with the new haircut and that leather jacket,” you say and only realize your mistake a second too late.

“The leather jacket back at my table?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “I saw you checking your phone too.”

“Were you watching me?” you challenge.

“Yes,” he admits freely. “You’re nice to look at.”

“Oh, well that’s not…I didn’t mean,” you stutter out, saved by the bartender setting a small tray down of drinks for you and your friends.

Somehow, though, because life isn’t fair (and neither is Seungkwan), your best friend picks that moment to waltz over claiming he wants to help with drinks. What he really seems to want is to introduce himself to Jeonghan. Even goes as far as pretending he hasn’t heard Jeonghan’s name before. Seungkwan manages to sell it better too and you think it would probably pass with anyone else that wasn’t paying such sharp attention. It’s only then that you notice Jeonghan doesn’t have a drink in hand. Doesn’t really seem the slightest bit drunk. Which is fine until Seungkwan manages to make it even worse by inviting Jeonghan and his friends to come join your group.

Then, something else that’s kind of weird happens. Jeonghan, who has spent the entirety of the semester up until about a week ago terrorizing you, barely says anything to you at all. He talks about his favorite artists with Seungkwan. Asks Chan for suggestions on some movies that he’s recently seen. Even laughs about random ass memes with Vernon. His friends, whose names you can’t even remember, fit in just as seamlessly. It’s a little…well, uncomfortable. It’s giving you entirely too much time to think and you don’t like it.

So, you do the only reasonable thing and you keep getting drinks. Stay just on the right side of drunk so that you’re aware of your surroundings, but not sober. It makes it easier to deal with everything happening around you.

As the night continues on, your merged groups seem to ebb and flow. Some people wander over, drawn in by the fact that it seems like a fun place to be. Other times, some wander off to make new friends or have new conversations. This is especially true of Seungkwan, which you’re used to. Your roommate is one of the most social people that you know. And then people start to make their excuses to leave as it gets later. How you end up outlasting Chan is a mystery, since he seems to have endless energy. It’s fine, though. You still have your roommate.

Well, until he tells you, without nearly the amount of shame that he should have, that he’s going to be bringing someone home that he got to talking to about karaoke. It’s a little unlike him, at least until you realize that the person isn’t a stranger. They’re definitely someone that Seungkwan has talked to before. It still leaves you a little lost on what to do or where to go.

“I never ask you for anything,” Seungkwan pleads. It’s patently false. He’s always asking you for things, just never things like this.

“I could text Chan or Vernon to see if they’ll let me crash on their couch,” you say, trying to quickly clear the cloudiness from your brain.

“Don’t they put their phones into DND as soon as they get home?” Seungkwan asks.

“My only other option is to just go home and put headphones on,” you say.

“You could come crash at my place. My roommate won’t be back from a trip til tomorrow,” Jeonghan offers.

“Perfect! Thank you!” Seungkwan rushes out.

“Um? Seungkwan? You can’t just send me to some stranger's house?” you protest.

“He’s not a stranger. He’s been in your class all semester and at your office hours nearly every day,” Seungkwan says with an eye roll. Jeonghan looks vindicated hearing this piece of information. “You’re so dramatic.”

“It’ll be fine. I can sleep in his room and you can sleep in mine. I’ll even make sure you have fresh sheets if you’re worried,” he says.

This is definitely a bad idea. Even though you’re not drunk, you’re definitely not sober enough to pretend you’re not at least a little bit interested in Jeonghan. Everything about him seems to be a study in contrasts. Confident but not in some toxic masculinity type of way. Chaotic but serious at the same time. Silly to where he would say he joined a class because he’s good at Legos but also genuinely smart. And beautiful in a way so few men seem to be. He’s just something entirely his own.

You shake your head because you realize you’re spacing out. This is a terrible idea and one you probably wouldn’t agree to if you were sober. It’s not like he’s actually a stranger, though. Jeonghan seems to have realized the conclusion before you open your mouth. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Dangerous question,” Jeonghan says with a glint in his eyes.

“I love you,” Seungkwan says and wraps you up in a hug before skipping off.

“Are you ready to leave, then?” Jeonghan asks when it’s just the two of you.

“Yeah, might as well,” you say. He nods, looking a little unsure for the first time since you’ve known him and turns to grab his jacket. Says a quick goodbye to his friends and you try to ignore the looks they cast over at you.

“Let’s go,” he says a minute later.

“Are we calling an Uber or something?” you ask.

“I’m sober because I rode my bike here,” he says as he leads the way outside.

“I’m sorry, you rode your what?” you ask, brain slow to catch up with what he’s saying. It’s then that you notice he didn’t just grab his jacket. He’s got a helmet as well.

“Bike,” he says and indicates a motorcycle parked outside the bar.

That brings you up a little short. It’s the last thing you would have expected when you thought of this man. Though, maybe it shouldn’t have been. After all, you said he was a study in contrasts. Isn’t this just another one of those?

Somehow, the more you look, the more it seems to suit him. It’s not some big, clunky bike. Not what you typically think of when you think of a motorcycle. It’s sharp and beautiful, just like he is, even if you can only admit that in your head. He pulls open a compartment that seems to be under the backseat and hands over a helmet.

“Promise I won’t go too fast,” he says with a softer smile than you’ve seen on him before. Like he’s actually trying to reassure you.

Sure, it’s not the first time you’ve been on a bike. It’s just that of all the ways you could have seen this night ending, this wasn’t one of them. At least you’re not feeling too self conscious as you slide onto the bike behind Jeonghan and wrap your arms around his waist. You miss the way his breath stutters as you settle in close to him. Miss the way his heart starts to beat out of his chest because you’re too focused on getting comfortable. Don’t even think twice about clinging to his lean frame. But, even with the drinks, it’s hard to ignore the way that your body slots perfectly against his. Or the way your thighs squeeze against his hips. Maybe there’s a lot more to whatever has been happening than you’ve been admitting to yourself.

Once you reach Jeonghan’s apartment, he carefully helps you off the bike and then puts a bit of distance between you again. It’s the first time that you notice he seems nervous, like maybe, you think, he might be reconsidering if this was a good idea. There’s not really much you can do about that now. You promised Seungkwan that he could have some privacy in the apartment and you’re already here. It can’t possibly be so bad that you really regret coming here. It could even help you sort through the very complicated feelings that are making their presence known.

Inside the apartment it’s incredibly cozy. Not at all like you imagine two single guys would live while they’re in school. It’s not overly cluttered, but it doesn’t feel cold either. Jeonghan disappears as soon as you both have your shoes off, which lets you look around at some of the decorations. He returns with a spare t-shirt and shorts for you to change into. Despite your insistence that it’s fine, he just presses them to you and indicates where the bathroom is for you to change.

It feels oddly…comfortable. Like this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him outside of class or your office. It also makes you take a little longer to change because you have to process whatever you’re feeling. Since you’re not sure exactly what to do after you change, you peek your head out into the living area. Jeonghan is setting some snacks and water out with the TV on in the background. You take it as a sign that you’re supposed to come out and join him. Momentarily, he disappears into his room and reappears also wearing more comfortable clothes.

The confusion only gets even worse from there. Maybe it’s just that Seungkwan’s gotten into your head. Since you’re finally processing that you might be interested in being something a little more with Jeonghan, you expect things to go a certain way. Seungkwan, and your other friends, for that matter, seem to think it’s only a matter of time before you cross over into being more than friends. Subconsciously, your brain must have latched onto that. Even wanted it, a little. But, now you’re here, and Jeonghan doesn’t do anything. He’s not the smooth, confident person that you’ve gotten to know over the course of the semester. He doesn’t try to pull any moves on you. Just makes sure that you’re comfortable, that you like the snacks, and that you like the show he has on.

It all feels like it’s a little too much and so Jeonghan shows you the way to his bedroom. Your nerves feel frayed because surely, this is the moment where things finally shift. Surely this is when he makes whatever move he’s held off on making up until this point. Quickly, you brush off the need to change the sheets. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal if something else happens. Without giving your brain a chance to overthink it, you lean in to give him a hug. His whole body tenses for a second and you’re about to pull away, when he finally relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“You know, you can just sleep in your own bed,” you offer carefully.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he says through an emotion that you can’t place.

“I won’t be. Plus, I’d hate to force you into your roommate’s bed,” you suggest again, meeting his eye to reinforce the point.

“Oh, well, it’s…” he starts, eyes avoiding your gaze.

“Really, Jeonghan, it’s fine. Your bed is big,” you say.

“Okay,” he agrees and walks to the other side of the bed.

It’s confusing, to say the least. He slides into the opposite side of the bed without meeting your eyes again. You’re not exactly sure how to give him another sign that you want something else to happen without making it too obvious, especially because it’s not clear if he wants that. The guy constantly in your office was just on the right side of flirty. Always trying to wear you down. This Jeonghan in his apartment is much quieter, more reserved. Like he’s not really sure what happens now that he’s gotten you outside of school like he claims he’s wanted.

“D’you usually sleep with the TV on?” he asks and you pull a face.

“I’m not a psycho,” you snort.

“Good to know after I let you into my apartment,” he jokes back and turns on the TV anyway. “I’ll set a timer just in case we both fall asleep.”

Confusing. You’re laying in bed with this person that up until tonight you referred to as basically a stranger and there’s just…nothing happening. The two of you are plenty close enough that you could brush up against him, yet not touching at all. His attention seems to stay forward on the TV. Occasionally, he shifts to get more comfortable, but he doesn’t get onto his phone or even really look over at you.

Thankfully, the bed is comfortable and without even realizing it, you drift off to sleep laying on your side, facing Jeonghan. The last thing you remember is looking up at his face. Appreciating the cut of his jaw and the way the light from the TV threw his features into contrast. Then nothing but the easiest sleep you’ve had after a night of drinking.

In the morning, when it’s too early to wake up after a late night but late enough that the sun seeps through the curtains, you have a momentary panic wondering where you are. Slowly, the night before settles back into your brain and you relax into the bed. It’s only when you feel a weight around your middle that you wonder if everything is coming back. It is, though. You think back to the last things you remember before falling asleep. Jeonghan was safely on his side of the bed. Now, his arm is draped over your waist and he’s breathing rhythmically like he’s still fast asleep. For once, instead of overthinking it, you just slow your brain back down and drift back into sleep. After all, this is one the right path to what you wanted the night before.

The sun is fully up when you wake up again if the light streaming around the curtains is any indication. That’s not the only difference, either. There’s no weight around your waist and, when you look over your shoulder, the other side of the bed is empty. Which isn’t entirely surprising when your phone tells you that it’s nearly noon. It’s very unlike you to sleep in that late, but it makes sense. You’re just thankful that Jeonghan insisted on giving you so much water and something to make sure you didn’t wake up with a headache. Even though you’re still a little tired, you’re not hungover and that feels like a miracle.

But, what do you do now? Nothing happened last night, despite genuinely feeling like Jeonghan had some level of interest in you. But, then he did share the bed with you and curl up to you during the night. Maybe that was his subconscious way of showing what he couldn’t say. You’re out of the bed and nearly out the bedroom door when you hear voices drifting in from somewhere else in the apartment. Voices, plural. One is clearly Jeonghan, but the other sounds female and that stops you in your tracks.

The decision is immediate once you hear the second voice laughing at something Jeonghan says. You open your group chat with Seungkwan, Chan, and Vernon to ask if any of them are around to pick you up. Chan is the first, and fastest, to respond, saying to drop your location and he’ll be out the door to get you in a minute without any questions asked. That’s more than you’re expecting and you’re incredibly thankful. Makes it feel like one weight has been lighted as you quickly and quietly get dressed back into the clothes you wore the night before.

Chan texts you to let you know he’s only a few minutes out. That’s your queue to actually leave the bedroom and make an appearance out in the rest of the apartment. Jeonghan’s back is to you and it looks like he’s got a cup of coffee next to him. The other person you heard from the bedroom is, in fact, a woman. She’s stunning in an effortless way that actually makes your head hurt a little bit. It has absolutely nothing to do with the drinks the night before, either. Her eyes land on you and there’s a smile you can’t place. It could be saying that she knows she won, despite whatever effort you made. Something on her face must tip Jeonghan off because he turns around.

And it’s worse than you thought, immediately. The smile on his face is both welcoming and soft, like he’s actually happy to see you. It only makes the whole thing more confusing. Why is he looking at you like that with one of the most beautiful people sitting across from him?

“You’re awake,” he says, still smiling. “I hope Hana here didn’t make too much noise.”

“Sorry, babe, I only have one volume setting,” she, Hana, apparently, says with another smile you can’t place.

“Do you want coffee? Something to eat?” Jeonghan says and starts to get out of his chair.

“No, no, it’s fine. My friend is almost here to pick me up. Thanks for letting me crash last night,” you say without fully meeting Jeonghan’s eyes. It means you miss the confusion that settles in there.

Without a backward glance, you’re out the door and down the elevator. It’s only another minute or so before Chan pulls up, shockingly by himself, and smiles softly at you as you get into his car. All he asks is if you’re hungry and then starts navigating to your favorite place to get breakfast food that’s open at least into the early afternoon. It’s exactly what you need right now.

Chan lets you just be in your head while he drives with music playing softly in the background. It might be a dangerous decision, honestly. All you can think about are reasons for that person, Hana, your brain supplies automatically, to be in Jeonghan’s apartment like that. His roommate wasn’t home, to the best of your knowledge, so that means she was there for Jeonghan. Was that his girlfriend? Was that why he was so reluctant to do anything the night before? On some level, you do know that’s probably not the right answer. The rational part of your brain knows that he wouldn’t be so calm if that was his girlfriend. There’s no space in your brain for rationality right now, though. So, you’re going to stew in the feelings that she could be dating someone.

“Do you wanna talk about whatever happened last night?” Chan asks once you’re sitting opposite of each other in a booth.

“Not really,” you say. “Nothing happened last night, though. So, you don’t have to worry about whoever wins the bet.”

“I’m not worried about some stupid bet. I’m worried about you,” he says.

You shrug. “I think I might actually like him.”

“No shit,” Chan says with a knowing smile.

“You didn’t let me finish. I think I might like him and I don’t think it matters,” you say.

“Start at the beginning and we’ll figure this out together.”

It’s been a week since whatever happened at Jeonghan’s apartment and you haven’t spoken a word to him since leaving. Not that he hasn’t tried to speak to you. After breakfast with Chan, you realized you had both texts and missed calls from Jeonghan trying to figure out what went wrong. Those stay unanswered. Even if you’re being stupid, you can’t really bring yourself to behave in a different way. When the next class comes around, you avoid his eyes as much as possible. The one or two times you do look over at him, he looks incredibly hurt and confused. It’s funny, you think, how he’s the one that’s acting put out by this whole situation when you’re the one who had to wake up to some other woman in his apartment without understanding anything.

That leads to your first office hours. Thankfully, Jeonghan doesn’t show up to those like he normally would. The office feels a lot quieter, even though other students stop by to ask questions. It just all feels very professional and detached. Not comfortable in the way it does when he drops by. It’s hard to admit, even to yourself, that you had gotten used to having him around. That you even looked forward to it. Somehow, you’re not really sure how, Jeonghan became one of your favorite parts of every day you saw him. That realization makes you want to crawl into your bed and hide forever. No matter what, it doesn’t feel like you’ll have the option to go back to that. It sucks to realize it just took you too long to come to the very obvious conclusion.

Now, at least, it’s the weekend again so you have a short reprieve from all things school related. Well, all things Jeonghan related because you still have your own homework to handle, assignments to grade, and a new week to prepare for. At the very least, you deserve a little bit of a treat. Texting the group chat makes you realize, though, that a lot of your friends seem to have their own things going on.

Seungkwan is out spending the day with the same person that he brought home last weekend. They seem like they’re really enjoying getting to know each other, which you’re rooting for wholeheartedly. You want your roommate and best friend to be happy. Vernon is kind of vague saying that he’s got other plans. With anyone else, you might think that he’s also seeing someone. You just know that he tends to be a little spacy when it comes to sharing plans. Knowing Vernon, he’s probably just off with some friend of his. Once again, Chan comes through and says that he could really use a coffee. Apparently, there’s some new cafe by him that he’s been wanting to try out. It feels like an excuse because Chan will absolutely go anywhere by himself, but you take it all the same. He’s actually probably the easiest of your friends to speak to about this, even if he’s younger than you are.

One sip into your drink proves that this is the best decision for a Saturday afternoon. Chan chatters away about the things that have been going on in his life. He’s taking more dance classes in every free moment he has and it’s nice to see the way his face lights up talking about it. He certainly seems happier than any time you see him talking about his actual classes. Think about suggesting he give up one thing to pursue something else that would truly make him happy. His face is different when he’s happy like this. It makes it obvious how strained he feels with everything else.

A laugh pierces through the crowd and it gives you the worst sense of deja vu. Suddenly, you’re back in Jeonghan’s apartment. Which is crazy, right? What are the odds that he and the mystery woman are in this same coffee shop at the same time as you and Chan?

Not impossible, apparently. Well, at least in part. Your eyes cast around for the source of the laugh when they land on the mystery woman sitting with someone else that you don’t recognize. Your brain tries to stutter over the name before it forces you to think, Hana. Just as you’re about to look away, her eyes find yours like she could sense someone looking at her. She flashes a smile, which you try to return, before looking back at Chan and whatever story he’s sharing.

That should be it. Except, when she appears by your side a moment later, you realize it’s not. She has someone else you’ve never seen in tow behind her. Chan, not always as quick on the uptake, looks up at her in confusion.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure if you remembered me…” she begins and you’re quick to answer.

“I do, yeah. Sorry about the other day,” you say. Chan’s face has a look of dawning comprehension.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry if I did something to offend you. I didn’t even catch your name,” Hana says and you open your mouth to share before she cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “No, Jeonghan told me. He’s done nothing but speak about you for weeks now.”

“And I thought I could be annoying,” the mystery person says from behind Hana.

“Oh, I’m so rude. This is my boyfriend, Joshua,” Hana introduces and your brain short circuits. What? Boyfriend?

“And Jeonghan’s roommate. I hit traffic coming back last weekend or I would’ve been there to meet you as well. Make the morning even more awkward,” he jokes.

“I’m sorry,” you say, rapidly trying to make your brain connect. “You two are dating?”

“Yup!” Hana says with a smile and then notices your face. “Wait, what did you think? That I was dating Jeonghan?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know. I just thought…it was still early-ish in the day and…” you stumble awkwardly.

“Babe, no. Jeonghan is very single. I was just early getting there because Joshua hit traffic and I was excited to see him,” she says. “He will kill me for saying this, but he hasn’t talked about anyone but you since the class started.”

“Please note that I had no part in spilling the beans. I have to live with him,” Joshua jokes.

“And just so there’s no more confusion, I’m one of her closest friends, Chan. Not a boyfriend or date or anything like that,” Chan says.

“Oh!” Hana says and turns to Joshua. “Jeonghan was mentioning him, remember? There was a movie we were supposed to watch.”

“Yeah, he did mention that,” Joshua agrees.

“Anyway, I’m sure you have lots to think about, but I’m nosy and I figured I’d say hi. Have a good weekend!” Hana says, full of more energy than anyone should have on the weekend. Joshua gives a smile and follows her out of the shop.

As soon as they’re out of sight, you drop your head into your hands. All that worrying and you could have just talked to him. Could have avoided this whole idiotic situation.

“Feeling kinda dumb right now?” Chan asks. You raise your head to glare at him. “I did say it didn’t seem like he was seeing someone.”

“Not the time, Chan,” you say.

“It’s completely the time. Look, yeah you fucked up by not just talking to him. But, you admitted that you liked him. He clearly likes you. Just talk to him. I’m sure you can fix it,” he says.

“I don’t know,” you start. “I was such an asshole.”

“I mean, yeah, you kind of were. But, he spent that whole night after Seungkwan invited them over getting to know your friends. Genuinely interested in everything we said. He’s not doing that just to make more friends. He wants to show you that he can fit into your life without anything really having to change,” Chan reasons and it brings you up short.

“When did you get so smart?” you question.

“I’ve always been smart, you just treat me like a baby,” he says with an eye roll.

“You are the baby in this friend group,” you point out.

“Just go figure out how to make it up to him,” Chan says.

Even though you know it was a terrible miscommunication, you’re not sure how to approach Jeonghan for the rest of the weekend. You’re also not sure how the conversation will go. So, despite knowing better, you decide to just take your time. Get yourself completely set for the coming week and figure that you’ll see Jeonghan during the next class. As much as you want resolution, you don’t feel like it would be enough for you to text him and ask to talk. That could also be taken wildly out of context.

So, you prepare for the next class. Make sure you look a little cuter than you normally would for class. Go over what you’re going to say with both Seungkwan and Chan, who’s gotten incredibly invested in the whole situation. It’s another class where you’ll just be sitting in the back and listening, which might also make it easier. You’re a little early getting there so that you can set all your things down.

But, then the class starts to fill in and you don’t see Jeonghan. Professor Choi closes the door, doesn’t comment on Jeonghan’s absence, and just starts teaching. It’s unusual. He normally takes attendance. Instead, he does a head count of the students and gets on with teaching. Everyone else is there. Jeonghan is the only one missing. You figure that maybe he reached out about missing the class. It leaves a weird feeling in your stomach, though, because you wonder if he’s okay. What if something happened to him?

At the end of class, you join Choi at the front as you do on every other occasion. The answer comes immediately when Choi looks up at you. “Mr. Yoon emailed me before the class to say that he was feeling very sick and wouldn’t be able to make it. I assured him you would send over some notes on the subject matter today.”

You try to avoid any relief that you feel at knowing it’s at least nothing that serious. It sucks that he’s sick, but at least he wasn’t in an accident or anything. You need to stop going to the worst case scenario, honestly. “Oh, sure. I’m sure he’s already ahead on the material, but I’ll send it over.”

“He’s such a good student,” Choi agrees. “Thank you for helping him with the proposal. I’m not sure if you read it over, but it’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“I did read it because he wrote it during my office hours. But, it was all him,” you say.

Professor Choi looks up at you like he knows that’s not entirely true. “I can feel your influence on it. In a good way, of course. You have a habit of helping people get to their best results.”

“Thank you,” you say earnestly. It’s the most genuine compliment he’s ever given you. He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a folder to hand to you. “Did I miss picking up an assignment to grade?”

“No,” he says with a smile you’re not used to seeing. “This is your letter for the recommendation packet. I already sent it in, but I thought you might like to see a copy.”

“Thank you so much, Professor Choi,” you say with a relieved sigh.

“You’re incredibly bright, probably one of the brightest students I’ve ever taught,” he says and it takes you completely by surprise. “I know it’s probably seemed like I’ve been hard on you because I have been. I knew there was even more potential in you waiting to be coaxed out. I also know I made it much easier on John to ask for a recommendation. But, between you and I, your letter is much more complimentary and personal than his was. I can’t wait to see what you accomplish.”

It all suddenly makes sense. Everything that Choi has put you through since asking for his letter. It almost makes you laugh. “I’m sorry for doubting your motives for asking me to TA this class.”

Now, Professor Choi does actually laugh. “Oh, no need to apologize for that. It’s much easier to get the most out of a student when they think they have something to prove.”

“You may be onto something,” you agree.

“I’ll see you next class,” he says and closes up his briefcase to head off.

With that bit of good news, you feel a lot lighter. You almost don’t even need to read the letter (though, you definitely will later). It’s enough to know that your entire future is still open ahead of you. It makes all of the miscommunication with Jeonghan feel incredibly silly. It also makes you feel a little bolder. So, you figure that you still have the location for Jeonghan’s apartment dropped in a group chat. Why not get him some food and medicine to help him feel better? It’ll give you a chance to apologize for how you’ve handled everything up until this point.

That idea seems a little poorly thought out when you show up at Jeonghan’s apartment with soup and medication. He answers the door, looking completely fine healthwise and confused to see you standing on the other side of the door.

“Professor Choi said you were really sick so I figured I’d bring some soup to help you feel better,” you offer, holding up the bag to show him.

“Why are you here?” he asks. There’s none of the normal warmth.

“I was worried about you,” you admit.

He sighs and leans against the doorframe without letting you in. “I can’t do these mind games.”

“I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “I know I messed up really badly. I owe you an apology.”

“You might as well come in,” Jeonghan says and steps aside. “Soup does also sound good. It’s cold out.”

“Right, here,” you say and hand it over to him.

“Is there enough for you to eat with me?” he asks and takes the bag. “Oh, it looks like it. Wanna join me? And you can try to explain what’s been going on?”

“Sure,” you agree.

It’s mostly silent as Jeonghan heats up the soup and puts it into two bowls for you to enjoy it with him. He sets the bowls at the kitchen table and also sets some drinks down for you. The two of you take a few sips first before you venture to explain what’s been going on.

“I’m really sorry, Jeonghan,” you say.

“So you’ve said,” he comments. He’s not going to make this easy on you.

“That whole night when I stayed here wasn’t exactly what I signed up for,” you admit. He opens his mouth, but you wave him off. “Let me try to get this out. You were so kind and caring to me when you brought me back here. Then, I was kind of expecting something to happen and nothing did…”

“Because you had been drinking. I wasn’t just gonna be like hey, let’s jump into bed when your mind wasn’t fully clear,” he says with a scoff.

“That’s fair. I get that,” you acknowledge. “Then, I don’t know. I saw Hana sitting out here with you the next day and I just kinda freaked out. I had realized that I might actually like you and here’s this beautiful person in your apartment for who knows what reason. I worried she was your girlfriend or something.”

He snorts a little derisively at that. “That would be kinda shitty to share a bed with you and then let you walk out to find me with a girlfriend. She’s not, by the way. She’s my roommate Joshua’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I know. I ran into her and Joshua while I was getting coffee over the weekend,” you admit sheepishly. This seems to surprise him.

“You met Joshua?” he asks.

“They didn’t tell you?” you ask in return and he shakes his head. “Probably because Hana told me that I’m the only one you’ve talked about since starting the class.”

“I wouldn’t have even cared if I had an answer to why you started ignoring me,” he says.

“I got a bit scared,” you say softly.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t just speak to me,” he insists.

“I know that. I really am sorry, that’s all I can say,” you offer.

“Well that and you can tell me that you do actually like me. Not that you might like me or something else vague,” he says with a glint to his eyes.

“You are…infuriating,” you say with a laugh. “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and impossibly kind. You make me want to pull out my hair at least once a day…”

“Don’t do that. You have nice hair,” he interjects.

“But, yes, I’m trying not to be scared anymore. So yeah, I do like you,” you say.

“What about being the TA for my class?” he asks and you shrug.

“The class will end eventually,” you say.

“Does this count as our first date, then?” he asks like the true demon he is.

“Only if you plan something else for our second date,” you concede.

“Deal,” he agrees.

Everything feels a little bit easier after that. A little bit lighter. Like you actually can breathe for the first time all semester. You tell Jeonghan about the letter and he suggests that you read it right then with him. It makes sense, in a way. Working with Jeonghan has brought out exactly the side to you that Choi wanted to see. It feels like this is kind of his win as well, even though he didn’t realize it. It also feels a little less overwhelming to read it with him by your side. (It’s a rave. Way better than anything you could have dared to hope for and better than any other letter written by him that you’ve read. Everything feels worth it and like it falls into place.)

Now that the awkwardness is out of the way, Jeonghan shares that he wasn’t actually sick, which you already know. It’s obvious looking at him that he feels fine. It does surprise you a bit that he admits to avoiding you to give himself time to process, though. Then he moves onto talking about Joshua and Hana, grumbling that they hadn’t told him about running into you after you relay the entire conversation. Even goes as far as to say that he would have come to class so that you could have figured all of this out. Instead, he admits telling Joshua about the plan to skip. That’s why Joshua isn’t there, though. He claimed he was going to give Jeonghan his space to work through whatever he was feeling and spend the night at Hana’s. You make a mental note to thank Joshua for that.

“How early is your day tomorrow? Do you want to stay and watch a movie or something?” he asks a little awkwardly when you finish your soup.

“Not that early,” you answer easily. “A movie sounds good, but can we watch something in your room? I feel like laying in bed and being lazy.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” he says.

“We don’t have to,” you say quickly.

“Can I say something that’s really gonna make me look…not cool?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say curiously.

“You make me a little nervous,” he admits.

That completely surprises you. Nothing about Jeonghan really seems anything short of confident in everything that he does. It’s kind of nice to see him falter. All you do is hold out a hand to him. “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

He takes your hand easily and lets you lead him into his own bedroom. Seems very content to let you just set the pace of what’s happening. So, you settle on top of his covers and he hands you the remote. It’s nice to get to control what’s on the TV for a change, even if you’re not really paying much attention to it. Jeonghan is a little stiff against his headboard as you try to settle into his body.

“Is it okay if I lean against you like this?” you ask, suddenly worrying this is too much.

“Of course,” he says after a moment.

“You can tell me if…” you start.

“No,” he says firmly. “No, I’ve been thinking about this since the last time I had you in my bed.”

“Just since then?” you tease.

“No, it was definitely before then, but I’ve already lost a lot of cool points,” he says.

“I don’t want to possibly misread the signs, but are you okay with…” you start, once again, before he cuts you off.

“I am fine with absolutely anything you want to give me,” he says and you wish you could see his face. Wonder if he’s blushing.

“And if that’s just a cuddle?” you test.

“Fine,” he says.

“Or if it’s a kiss?” you ask and feel the breath he takes. “Or what about if it’s a lot more than a kiss?”

He takes another beat. His voice sounds a bit strained when he speaks. “Definitely more than just fine.”

That’s really all the confirmation that you need. Making sure you’re on the same page is important and getting this kind of consent makes it easier to relax. You settle further back into his chest and pull his arm around you, let one of your own arms drape across his lap. It feels like it might be easier for him to settle that way. So that you can’t see his face and he doesn’t have to worry about losing any more cool points. Not that those really matter with you anyway. More than anything, it’s entertaining to see the way this constantly confident, perpetual pain in the ass gets so tongue-tied now that he’s getting what he wants.

The more time goes by, the more he seems to relax a little more into what’s happening around him. His fingers absently run along your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. He leans his head down to meet yours and you could swear his lips press the lightest kiss into your hair. His entire presence is a little overwhelming. And he smells amazing. It’s such a unique scent that you can’t place. Something light, airy, and delicate. Something that seems to perfectly suit him. It might be your new favorite scent.

Nothing about the TV show is keeping your attention. It feels like little more than a precursor to what you both know is coming. But, Jeonghan doesn’t make the first move beyond the contact his fingers make with your arm. The first actual move seems like it might belong to you, which is actually kind of exciting. It’s a bit thrilling to know that you’re going to be in charge with this man who’s done nothing but send every one of your senses into overdrive. It’s nice to know that he doesn’t need to be in control of everything.

Almost as if you’re testing the water, you run your hand across his lap, careful to go slowly. He stops breathing for a second as he seems to wait to see what you’ll do next. It prompts you to run your hand back and forth a few more times, not bothering to move on from the subtle imprint of his dick through his sweatpants. Everything about him stills: his hand freezes on your arm, he doesn’t fidget, and his breathing is incredibly shallow. He starts to get noticeably harder underneath your hand while you keep your eyes trained forward, even though you have no idea what’s going on in whatever show you picked as background noise. There’s something strangely intimate about this in the way it feels a little innocent.

Finally, when he starts to moan a little with each motion, you pull your hand away. Delight in the way he actually whimpers at the loss of contact. It’s time to actually face him so that you can see what you’re doing to him. Repositioning yourself, you see the look on his face. He’s a little flushed just from the attention and his eyes are wide. Waiting. All he’s doing is waiting to let you set what happens next, like he can’t really believe that this is happening after so much time. It is, though.

You run a hand through his hair and marvel at how soft it is when it looks perfectly styled. Either his hair just looks like that or he’s got the best products in the world. Neither feels fair when he’s already this stunningly beautiful. Gently, you lean forward to press your lips against his. Let your hand tangle in his hair as you anchor yourself to him. The kiss is at complete odds with you slowly rubbing him through his pants. There’s a little bit of desperation and you’re not even sure which of you it’s coming from. All you know for sure is that his lips are so soft that they feel like clouds and he doesn’t even fight you for control when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just meets whatever pace you set. He really is happy with whatever you give him.

Your free hand winds down his body and doesn’t waste any time slipping into the waistband of his pants. When your hand wraps around his cock, he tries to pull away from the kiss, but you don’t let him. The moan that comes from you running your thumb over his tip gets caught up in your lips. You pull your hand out just long enough to spit into your palm and return it to the inside of his pants. Jeonghan does break the kiss when your hand wraps around his cock and strokes the first time, a hiss coming out of his mouth.

“Are you still sure you’re okay?” you ask, but it’s almost more of a tease.

“Fuck,” he hisses out. “Please don’t stop. Please.”

Hearing him nearly begging like that is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Never could you have imagined you would have this man like putty beneath your hands. It’s going to your head a little bit and then it hits you. You wonder if you can make him come just like this. Wonder how that would feel to have that kind of power over him.

So, you do the only logical thing, and decide to test it out. You kiss him again, fierce and messy and desperate. Keep a steady rhythm of stroking him. He’s a squirming, writhing mess under your touch and it’s like he doesn’t even remember what to do with his hands. It’s actually turning you on as well to know that he wants you this bad. That nothing more than your lips and his touch are going to send him over the edge. It’s obvious when he starts getting close because he works harder to break the kiss. Can’t seem to catch his breath. You take a little pity on him and kiss across his jaw. Even pull away to watch him as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he whimpers.

“So come,” you direct.

“I can’t come in my pants like a fucking teenager,” he protests. “Please, I’m begging…”

“I want you to come for me, Jeonghan. Right now. Exactly like this. Come for me and show me how desperate you’ve been to have my hands on your cock,” you instruct.

“Fuck,” he draws out. “Fuck, I can’t…I’m gonna…”

His release comes almost out of nowhere, so hard and heavy that it coats your hand as you continue to stroke him through the release, coaxing every last bit from him. Once he’s spent, he collapses back against the headboard of the bed and you see any tension drain from his body. You pull your hand from inside his pants and wipe it off on them. Thankfully, he doesn’t even seem to protest.

While his breathing steadies, you shift and get off of the bed. He slowly opens his eyes and tracks your movement. Only swallows a little hard when you start to undress without taking your eyes off him. Sometimes, this part makes you a little self conscious. It’s much easier now, though, knowing you had just made Jeonghan come in his pants. That’s an ego boost you never expected to get. His breath stutters when you even remove your bra and panties, leaving yourself completely exposed before him. His eyes go somehow even wider when you get back onto the bed and position yourself in front of him. He reaches out to touch you, but you slap his hand away.

“Oh, no, no,” you chastise softly. “No, my little demon, you are going to watch now.”

“Watch?” he asks.

“Yes, watch,” you confirm and study his face. “Don’t you want to watch me get myself off? Don’t you want to watch me show you exactly what it is that I like?”

“F-fuck that’s…wow,” he stutters out.

You lean back, using one hand behind you on the bed to brace yourself. You spread your legs open to show him the way your pussy already glistens a little. The kissing and the feel of bringing him over the edge like that really turned you on. It’s a little bit of a first for you. Running a finger up your entrance, you collect some of the wetness there. Do it once more for good measure. And then, still emboldened by what’s happened so far, you reach forward to hold your finger out to Jeonghan. Let it run along his lip until he takes it into his mouth and tastes you.

“Fuck, you’re so…just, fuck,” he hisses. “Can I…”

“No,” you say and cut him off, pulling your finger back.

Now that you’ve had a taste of him begging for something, you want to drive him to that again. Want to get him so turned on that he can’t even see straight. You slowly tease at your entrance and watch the way his eyes track each movement. When you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples, he seems like he can’t really figure out where to look. Then, you slide one finger into your pussy and it’s like he can’t see to take his eyes off the motion. You moan, even though it’s nowhere near enough of a stretch, and increase the rhythm. Quickly add another finger and start to fuck yourself just the way you like. Just the way you would when you want to draw out your release a little more than using a toy. You slide your free hand down your body and use it to rub small circles on your clit. Somewhere, the thought of Jeonghan watching you becomes a little secondary. It’s incredibly sexy to know that he’s just watching, but you’re also invested in your own high. You want to do this for yourself as much as to show Jeonghan. Can’t possibly realize that Jeonghan is even more turned on knowing that you’re so lost to your own passion.

The orgasm washes over you more suddenly than you’re expecting and it takes a moment to catch your breath. It takes another moment to realize that Jeonghan has undressed himself while you were lost in your own world. He isn’t touching himself though and you can’t figure out if he’s still sensitive or just waiting for your permission. It’s hard to avoid the realization that every part of him is beautiful. His body is all lean lines, not overly muscular, yet still looks strong. Even his cock is kind of beautiful in a way, which isn’t fair. It’s not surprising, though.

“That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen,” he admits, a little breathless.

“D’you think you can make me come as well?” you tease. “Want to feel my pussy squeeze around you?”

He nods immediately and it makes you laugh a little. “I know I can. I want…”

“To taste me?” you offer and his eyes go dark with lust.

“Can I?” he asks. “Can I actually get a taste? Just your finger wasn’t really enough.”

“I want to see what that mouth can do when it’s not talking a mile a minute,” you say. “I hope you’re just as good with your tongue.”

It’s obvious that this catches him a little off guard that you’re so confident now with him. So easily fall into telling him exactly what you want him to do. But, you’re very curious to see what his skills are like. The two of you reposition so that he can settle between your legs. His eyes find yours, searching, Maybe asking permission. You nod and he uses his fingers to spread your lips open. He licks up your core and mutters a quiet fuck under his breath at your lingering wetness. The breath against your core sends a slight shiver through your body.

After all the build up and everything, you don’t really have the patience for him to go slow. So, you tangle your hand into his hair and press his head further into your cunt. Force his nose to brush against your clit. Don’t really stop to consider if it’s too much for him. His moans into you seem to show that they’re not, though. It’s nice to just take what you need and know that he’s enjoying it just as much as you are. When you ask him (read: tell him) to add a finger, he does it without question. For someone that always seems to have a retort for everything, he’s surprisingly quiet now. Nothing piercing the quiet of the room apart from the constant stream of moans from both of you and curses from you as you get closer to your second orgasm.

The second one hits a lot harder than the first, a fact that you wouldn’t really want to admit to Jeonghan. It’s too obvious to hide, though. You don’t even care. Jeonghan’s tongue is far better than anything you could have dreamed about. Not that you were dreaming about it. (And not that you ever got yourself off in the shower or in your bed, late at night, thinking of the annoying guy who wouldn’t ever seem to leave you alone. Absolutely not.) When you open your eyes again, you find Jeonghan looking at you with awe. There’s nothing smug about his look. It makes your insides go even a little mushier. It’s definitely not the time for those kinds of emotions.

“Wow,” is all Jeonghan says.

“Yeah,” you agree.

“Do you still want to…? I mean, can we still…” he starts.

“Jeonghan, do I make you feel that nervous?” you joke. “You just ate me out and made me come all over your face.”

He shrugs. “I just don’t wanna press my luck.”

“Maybe we just stop here then,” you say with a return shrug. “I’m not sure you want it enough.”

“Oh, no, I definitely want it,” he disagrees.

“Are you sure?” you taunt. “Sure you can handle it?”

That unleashes a side of Jeonghan you haven’t fully seen yet. The next moment, he’s begging you for your pussy. Begging you to show you how much he still wants you. Begging to make up for the fake that he came in his pants just at your touch. Just begging for anything and everything. He even goes as far as to say that he’ll do all the work. It shouldn’t be working for you. It’s kind of lame, the way he just can’t seem to stop himself from running his mouth. And, unfortunately, it’s working for you. You kiss him just to make him stop.

The kiss immediately turns into something desperate, but you’re not sure which one of you takes it there first. Every new bit of him you get only makes you want even more of him. It’s kind of insane to think you weren’t even sure you liked him when it’s been so easy to fall into this. Jeonghan breaks the kiss and reaches over into his nightstand for a condom. Somehow, he manages to get it on in nearly record speed, despite his nerves about everything else. He doesn’t waste any time in positioning himself, either. You lie back when he spreads your legs open and seems a little drunk on the sight of you. You tap his side with your foot and he shakes his head clear of whatever he was thinking.

Jeonghan lines himself up at your entrance and presses his tip in. You arch your back, moaning at the initial stretch. It’s immediately better than either of your fingers or his tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in and it makes him snap into you in one swift movement. All you wanted was to be full and you squeeze your walls around him. Direct him to move. The two of you work together to figure out the right pace, knowing that neither of you is likely to last all that long. You’re both a little sensitive from everything in the lead up to this moment. Still, you revel in the way that Jeonghan rolls his hips into you. Appreciate the way that he nearly pulls all the way out before snapping back into you. Moan into the sloppy kiss when your mouths crash together. It’s hard to tell where your own whines start and his moans begin. The sounds all kind of blend together into some kind of weird harmony.

Where Jeonghan was incredibly vocal when he was begging, he doesn’t seem to have a coherent thought to share now. Yet, his eyes never leave you. Like he’s trying to map each part of your body. It’s too fast for him to learn what you actually like. That’s not what you need, not right now. What you need is to have another release, one that comes at the same time as his own. And that’s exactly what you get when you come hard again just as you feel his thrusts stutter. A moment later, he’s coming into the condom and eventually stilling inside of you.

The last thing you want is to feel the loss of him inside of you, but you understand that he has to pull out. His breathing is heavy when he rolls over onto his back. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to get out of bed. That it’s a struggle. But, he gets up to dispose of the condom and you hear water running in the distance. He returns a moment later with a wet cloth and starts gently washing you without even asking. He tosses the cloth on his dresser and then collapses back on the bed next to you. Pulls you into his body without a second thought.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you say softly while you’re nestled into him.

“Like I would let you leave,” he says just as softly.

“Oh, the man that begs for my pussy is going to force me to stay?” you challenge.

You feel the way his chest slightly rumbles with laughter. “I was hoping you’d let me live for a second.”

“After you not letting me live since we met? Fat chance,” you answer.

“I suppose I deserved that,” he says.

“I really don’t want to leave tonight, though, so hopefully you have more clothes to lend me,” you say.

“You’re gonna have to let me move for that,” he says in return.

“Worst offer I’ve gotten all day, but fine,” you agree and allow him to disentangle from you.

Once he offers you some clothes, you also get up from the bed to get dressed. Try not to ogle Jeonghan too much as he does the same. He catches you, because of course he does, but surprisingly doesn’t say anything. Only smiles back at you. You help him remake the bed before the two of you go back out into the living area. It occurs to you that you didn’t exactly let your roommate know what you were up to before just heading straight over to see Jeonghan.

A fact that is immediately obvious when you see the texts and missed calls on your phone. Oop.

“Hey,” you call out to Jeonghan. “My roommate, I’m sure you remember him…”

“Yeah, Seungkwan, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, he’s freaking out because I forgot to say I was coming over here,” you say. “I’m just gonna call him really quick to let him know I’m fine and I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Do you want privacy?” he asks and you just laugh lightly.

“Not sure I need it,” you say and the phone is already ringing. Seungkwan answers nearly immediately.

“What the fuck? Are you okay?” he asks instead of saying hello.

“Chill, Kwan, I’m fine,” you answer.

“Where are you? Your class ended hours ago,” he says.

“Has it been hours?” you ask with some amount of surprise.

“Wait, where are you?” he asks again, sounding calm but skeptical now.

“I just…just don’t worry about me for the night, okay? I’ll be home tomorrow,” you say.

“Switch to video, you whore,” Seungkwan says skeptically.

“Don’t be a weirdo,” you retort.

“Come on! Turn on your camera!” he yells and you pull the phone away from your ear.

“Fucking fine,” you grumble and press the button on your phone before holding it back up to your face.

“I KNEW IT!” he shrieks gleefully. “Who’s shirt is that?”

“Oh, well, it’s…” you stall and look over at Jeonghan. He’s already moving toward you.

“Well?” Seungkwan prompts as Jeonghan leans over behind you so his face shows in the camera.

“It’s mine,” Jeonghan answers and Seungkwan looks like Christmas came early.

“Well, hello Jeonghan,” he says.

“I promise to take good care of her and send her back in one piece,” Jeonghan says and Seungkwan can’t contain his grin.

“Keep her as long as you like. I’m about to be so rich,” he says, far happier than he should be.

“Goodbye Seungkwan. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say and hang up before he can say anything.

Once you hang up, Jeonghan gives you an odd look. Like he’s trying to figure out what Seungkwan just said.

“Do I…want to ask?” he finally asks.

You sigh. “Seungkwan started placing and taking bets about me sleeping with you as soon as I mentioned you.”

“And when was that?” he asks, seemingly not even surprised by the bets. You internally curse.

“After the very first class when you mentioned you joined because you like Legos,” you admit.

“We could have saved so much time,” he whines and you just shake your head.

“This is exactly how it was supposed to go,” you disagree.

“Maybe,” he concedes. “Should we get some sleep? We can figure everything else out in the light of day.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agree and follow him to bed.

It’s far easier than it should be to settle into bed with him. Like you’ve done it a million times before. Maybe it’s okay to allow yourself to have the things you want. Maybe this can all be as easy as attaching one block to another until you have something amazing.

i hope you liked it! and like i said, i'll be back to fix any spelling/grammar errors after the weekend.

taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n , @christinewithluv, @hipsdofangirl, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @lllucere, @vixensss, @soffiyuhh @aidanjoon, @hanniebub, @stormy1408, @lilifiedeans, @hyucksrealm, @joshuaslv, @tinkerbell460 (strikethrough means can't tag)

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afeelgoodblog · 9 months ago

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The Best News of Last Month

Sorry for being not active this month as I had some health problems. I'll start posting weekly now :) Meanwhile here's some good from last month

1. Widow donates $1 billion to medical school, giving free tuition forever

Ruth Gottesman surprised by her late husband's $1 billion in Berkshire stock, decides to donate it in full to the Albert Einstein College of Medicine in the Bronx, New York City's poorest borough. The donation is intended to cover students' tuition indefinitely, ensuring access to medical education for generations.

A video capturing students' emotional reactions to the news, cheering and crying, circulated after the announcement, highlighting the profound impact of the donation on the medical school community.

2. Electric school buses outperform diesel in extreme cold

In Colorado's West Grand School District, electric school buses outperformed their diesel counterparts, particularly in the bitterly cold temperatures of towns like Kremmling, where morning temperatures can drop below -30 degrees Fahrenheit. Despite common concerns about reduced range in extreme weather, the electric buses maintained their battery charge even in these frigid conditions, providing reliable transportation for students.

This success has been welcomed by the school district, as diesel vehicles also face challenges in starting in Colorado's harsh winter weather.

3. Christian Bale unveils plans to build 12 foster homes in California

Christian Bale has led a tour round the new village in California where he plans to build 12 foster homes, as well as two studio flats to help children transition into independent living, and a 7,000 sq ft community centre.

The actor has spearheaded the building of a unique complex of facilities with the aim of keeping siblings in the foster care system together, and ideally under the same roof.

4. Average lifespan of a person with Down syndrome has increased from 25 years in 1983 to 60 years today

Today the average lifespan of a person with Down syndrome is approximately 60 years.

As recently as 1983, the average lifespan of a person with Down syndrome was 25 years. The dramatic increase to 60 years is largely due to the end of the inhumane practice of institutionalizing people with Down syndrome.

5. Greece legalises same-sex marriage

Greece has become the first Christian Orthodox-majority country to legalise same-sex marriage. Same-sex couples will now also be legally allowed to adopt children after Thursday's 176-76 vote in parliament.

Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis said the new law would "boldly abolish a serious inequality".

6. Massachusetts police K9 tracks scent for over 2 miles to find missing 12-year-old in freezing cold

A Massachusetts police K9 followed her nose to help find a 12-year-old who went missing in frigid temperatures last week, tracking the child’s scent for over two miles, authorities said.

K9 Biza, a female German shepherd, was called on to help after officers learned the child left their home at around 10:30 p.m. Wednesday and was last seen in the Pakachoag Hill area of Auburn, the Auburn Police Department said.

7. Good News for the Socially Anxious: People Like You a Lot More Than You Think They Do, New Research Confirms

The "Lake Wobegon effect" or "illusory superiority" phenomenon highlights people's tendency to overestimate their abilities, but recent research suggests that in social interactions, individuals often underestimate their likability and charm.

Studies indicate that people consistently fail to recognize signals of others' liking toward them, leading to a "liking gap" where individuals believe they are less likable than they actually are.

Techniques such as focusing more on others during conversations and genuinely expressing interest in them can help alleviate social anxiety by shifting the focus away from self-criticism. Ultimately, understanding that others may also experience similar anxieties can lead to a more relaxed and enjoyable social experience.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

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cazshmere · 3 months ago

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8th house sign in the natal chart and what you fear ❤️‍🩹

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🥀✨

🥀 Aries in the 8th House:

1. Fear of losing control or appearing weak in front of others.

2. Fear of taking initiative in unfamiliar situations.

3. Anxiety about asserting themselves or putting their needs first.

4. Worry about competing with others, especially when their abilities might be challenged.

5. Concern about having to do things alone without support from others.

6. Fear of not being able to maintain their usual level of confidence and independence.

🥀 Taurus in the 8th House:

1. Fear of instability, especially financial loss or material insecurity.

2. Fear of not having comfort or stability in their life.

3. Anxiety over changes that disrupt their sense of security or routine.

4. Worry about losing possessions that provide a sense of comfort or status.

5. Concern about not having access to luxury or material abundance.

6. Fear of being perceived as "lazy" or "materialistic" due to their desire for comfort.

🥀 Gemini in the 8th House:

1. Fear of being misunderstood or having their ideas dismissed.

2. Fear of communicating their thoughts, especially if they might be misunderstood.

3. Anxiety about being ignored or overlooked in important conversations.

4. Worry about not having enough mental stimulation in life, leading to boredom.

5. Concern about being seen as unreliable due to their versatile nature.

6. Fear of being labeled as "two-faced" or insincere by others.

🥀 Cancer in the 8th House:

1. Fear of emotional vulnerability or being abandoned by loved ones.

2. Anxiety about exposing deep emotions and being hurt or rejected.

3. Worry about being perceived as overly sensitive or dependent.

4. Concern about emotional betrayal or being taken advantage of.

5. Fear of losing the emotional security provided by close relationships.

6. Unease with situations that force them to confront their own emotional depth.

🥀 Leo in the 8th House:

1. Fear of being overshadowed or not receiving recognition.

2. Fear of not receiving the attention they desire or being forgotten by others.

3. Anxiety about not getting validation from others for their efforts or achievements.

4. Worry about not being able to truly express themselves in a way that is appreciated.

5. Concern about not being recognized for their talents and hard work.

6. Fear of being outshined by others, leading to feelings of inadequacy.

🥀 Virgo in the 8th House:

1. Fear of making mistakes or being seen as imperfect.

2. Anxiety about revealing flaws or weaknesses, especially in high-pressure situations.

3. Worry about not meeting the high standards they set for themselves or others.

4. Concern about being perceived as overly critical, which might alienate people.

5. Fear of being seen as less competent or reliable, leading to feelings of inadequacy.

6. Unease with situations where their attention to detail might be overlooked or undervalued.

🥀 Libra in the 8th House:

1. Fear of conflict, imbalance, or being judged harshly by others.

2. Fear of intimacy or being vulnerable with loved ones, leading to emotional exposure.

3. Anxiety about conflicts in relationships that disrupt harmony or balance.

4. Worry about being judged harshly for their decisions or behaviors, particularly in social settings.

5. Concern about being perceived as "rude" if they assert themselves or disagree with others.

6. Fear of not being able to maintain the peace and harmony they strive for in their relationships.

🥀 Scorpio in the 8th House:

1. Fear of betrayal, losing power, or having their secrets exposed.

2. Anxiety about losing control or being manipulated by others.

3. Worry about others uncovering their deepest fears, desires, or secrets.

4. Concern about not being able to maintain their usual level of intensity and focus and sometimes hiding their intensity because they don’t know if others would accept them if they did show it.

5. Fear of emotional vulnerability, which might lead to feelings of powerlessness.

6. Unease with situations that force them to confront their own darker impulses.

🥀 Sagittarius in the 8th House:

1. Fear of being restricted, losing freedom, or facing the unknown.

2. Anxiety about being confined or trapped in situations that limit their independence.

3. Worry about not being able to explore or pursue their personal beliefs and interests.

4. Concern about being forced to conform to rules or structures that limit their autonomy.

5. Fear of losing their sense of optimism or faith in challenging circumstances.

6. Unease with situations that require commitment or settling down, which might limit their opportunities for growth.

🥀 Capricorn in the 8th House:

1. Fear of failure, losing status, or not achieving their goals.

2. Anxiety about not reaching the level of success or stability they aspire to.

3. Worry about losing their reputation or standing in society, especially in professional settings.

4. Concern about not being able to achieve the long-term goals they set for themselves.

5. Fear of being overwhelmed by responsibilities that exceed their capacity to manage.

6. Unease with situations where their sense of structure or control is threatened.

🥀 Aquarius in the 8th House:

1. Fear of conformity, losing individuality, or being rejected by society.

2. Anxiety about losing their uniqueness or being forced to conform to societal norms.

3. Worry about not being able to fully express their innovative or unconventional ideas.

4. Concern about being rejected or ostracized for their differences or their ability to try out new ways of doing things.

5. Fear of losing their sense of freedom or independence in group settings.

6. Unease with situations where they feel pressured to fit in or compromise their values.

🥀 Pisces in the 8th House:

1. Fear of being overwhelmed by emotions, losing their sense of self, or facing harsh realities.

2. Anxiety about being consumed by their own or others' emotions, leading to feelings of instability.

3. Worry about losing their sense of self or identity in relationships, especially if they become overly dependent.

4. Concern about facing harsh or unpleasant realities they'd rather avoid, leading to escapist tendencies.

5. Fear of being perceived as too sensitive or overly emotional by others.

6. Unease with situations that require them to be practical, grounded, or confront life's harsh realities.

banner & photo credits: @/kiaa-chin

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obsessedwithceleste · 10 months ago

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The Cat Chronicles

(Or five times Theodore Nott *accidentally* stole your cat)

Theodore Nott x reader

word count: 5.9k

The first time your cat went missing, you didn’t think entirely too much of it. You knew many of the Hogwarts cats liked to gather behind the herbology greenhouse where a particularly plentiful patch of catnip grew. However, Gladys was never one to miss meal time, and when the time came to 30 minutes after her usual feeding time, you knew something was amiss. With a sigh, you made your way out to your common room where you saw Cho sitting by the fireplace with several other of your class mates.

“Has anyone seen Gladys wandering about? She missed feeding time and I haven’t seen her much today,” you say as you approach the group.

“I haven’t, sorry y/n. We’ll keep a look out for her though,” Cho tells you.

You let out a small sigh of disappointment.

“Thanks Cho,” you say before heading out to wander the halls of the castle, hoping to find your elusive, black cat.

You start out by the greenhouse where you see a whole gaggle of cats, but none with the sleek black coat that identified your furry friend. You then walked around the grounds a bit more with no luck, before moving on to the kitchens where several of the house elves promised to keep an eye out for the small black cat. You even checked several empty class rooms before coming to a stop outside the library. It wouldn’t hurt to check. Twenty minutes later, you were still completely out of luck. Tired and frustrated, you were about to call it a night when a loud chorus of voices turn down the hall. You look to see who it was and find a hoard of Slytherin boys making their way towards you. You recognized them of course, but didn’t exactly know them. What you did know however, was the mop of black fur one of the taller boys in the back of the group was holding.

“Gladys!” You exclaim, rushing towards the group of boys.

Their eyes all turn towards you and at the sound of her name, the fiesty black cat springs from the arms of the boy and runs towards you.

With a large grin of relief, you scoop the cat up into your arms, feeling her light purr as you scratch behind her ears. Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, you look up to see the group of boys still staring at you and your cat.

“Um, thanks, for finding my cat,” you say awkwardly, squeezing the cat to your chest lightly. The tall, brunette boy who had just been holding your cat only nods silently before turning and walking off, the rest of the group following, except one.

“Hey, sorry about Theo. He means well, really. Man really likes cats, but doesn’t have one of his own, so he sometimes makes friends with cats wandering the halls. We’ve all told him that he should probably stop, ah, borrowing, people’s cats, but he can’t seem to resist. Names Enzo by the way,” the boy says with a friendly smile, extending his hand out.

You take his hand, shaking it cautiously before a smile creeps it’s way onto your face.

“Thank you, Enzo.” You say, hesitating a moment before adding, “You know, Gladys is a picky bitch. Theo must be a pretty okay person if she let him carry her around.” You tell him before disappearing with your cat.

The second time your cat went missing, you honestly didn't realize she was missing at all. Theo had found his way down to the kitchens about a week after the original cat incident. That's how he thought of it anyway. The kitchens were one of his favorite places to lurk as not many students knew of the secret entrance behind one particular painting of a fruit bowl. The real attraction that often drew the brunette boy to the hidden sanctuary however, was the constant stream of cats that often visited the house elves who happily offered up dishes of cream and other treats. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a particularly populated bowl of milk, Theo's eyes were immediately drawn to a familiar set of glowing yellow orbs.

"Hello there, Gladys," he said hesitantly, decently sure that was the name called out by the pretty Ravenclaw girl who had stolen the cat from him a few nights ago.

Well, stolen in this case was rather relative, as the cat was technically hers, he supposed. Hearing her name however, the little black cat pranced over, nuzzling her head affectionately against his leg with a soft purr. Picking the sweet creature up into his arms, Theo stroked her soft fur, thinking back to his encounter with her owner, a grimace reaching his face.

He had been a downright bloody idiot. That was for certain. Theo was not usually one to be rendered incompetent by the mere presence of a pretty girl. No. That was meant more for Enzo. Or even Draco sometimes. But never Theodore. In fact, Theo had quite the reputation for his tendency to sleep around which made the idea of his mind completely blanking at the sight of this cat's owner all the more embarrassing. Matteo had made fun of him ruthlessly later that night. What had he said again? Right. Absolutely nothing. Just nodded like a right dunce.

The only solace Theo had gotten from that night was when Enzo pulled him aside quietly and told him what the pretty girl from earlier had said about him. "He must be pretty okay." It was hardly a compliment, but after the fool he'd made of himself, it really was the best Theo could hope for. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Theo once again focused on the little beast snuggling contentedly in his arms, carefully scratching behind the ears, a spot he'd found the cat quite liked.

The sound of the entrance painting swinging open startled Theo; and he honestly wasn't sure if he was elated, or absolutely mortified that the very girl who had been previously plaguing his thoughts was stepping through into the kitchens.

You honestly weren't entirely surprised to see the boy from a few nights ago sitting on the floor, cradling your cat, when you entered the kitchens. After Enzo had admitted to you that the handsome brunette had a soft spot for the castle's feline population, you figured it was only a matter of time until you bumped into him here considering it was a hot spot for the four legged beasts.

"Hello. See you've managed to find my cat again," you say, offering a small smile to the boy in front of you. After your encounter with that particular group of Slytherins, you did a bit of asking around, finding that Theodore Nott, while a bit known for his escapades with the female population, was actually one of the more talented wizards of your year. And one of the more level headed. (But in comparison to Draco and Matteo, you weren't exactly sure how much credit to give him there.)

The boy blinks up at you once before seeming to find his voice.

"She's a sweet little thing," he says finally, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but you.

You cautiously move forward, more worried about spooking the boy in front of you than the cats. Sitting down, you allow a pretty little Siamese kitten to wander into your lap. Gladys hisses with jealousy, but remains snuggled in the arms of the boy.

"She really seems to like you. Bit surprising. She's really not much of a people person," you tell him.

Theo nods at you, an action you found yourself growing familiar with.

"Enzo told me." He replies curtly.

You open your mouth to respond, but don't quite know how, so you let an awkward silence roll over the two of you.

"Well, I find that Gladys is a very good judge of character," you say finally.

Theo lets out a small smile at this, continuing to stroke your cat's soft fur. After that, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with Theodore continuing to shower your cat with affection while you distract the many other felines, crowding the kitchen floor.

"Theo?" you wonder finally, the question burning away at you. The boy looks up, and you find yourself getting lost in the surprisingly soft brown eyes staring back at you. Breaking from the trance with a small shiver, you ask, "If you like cats so much, why don't you have one of your own?"

Theo's eyes immediately fall, and his hand freezes mid pet, much to Gladys' dismay. A pang of guilt washes through you.

"My father isn't much of an animal person," He replies stiffly.

You give him a small nod in response before rising from the floor.

"It's getting pretty late, I should get going," you say softly. "Gladys can find her way back to the tower on her own just fine," you add when you see Theo make no move to release the cat.

Without another word, you move to open the portrait door. You enter the hall with a small smile gracing your lips as you hear his voice quietly as the door closes.

"Thank you, y/n."

He knew your name.

The next time Theo met Gladys was much sooner than he expected. He had left the kitchens several hours ago and was now laying in bed. The clock sitting on his bed side now read 1am. The deafening silence was about to finally lull him to sleep when an insistent scratching at the door caused his eyes to fly open. Sitting up, Theo glanced at the door warily before finally deciding to cross the room to find out what was causing the noise.

As soon as the door opened, a black shadow darted through, making a beeline for his bed. How it seemed to know exactly where it was going, Theo had no clue. Making his way silently back to his bed, careful not to wake either of his roommates, Theo was finally able to make out the dark shape of an ever familiar black cat.

"Hi there, principessa," he whispered, gently stroking the cat's ears before crawling into the bed next to it. Gladys seemed to take this as an invitation to curl up in the nook of his arm, and Theo wasn't about to object. The last thought he remembered before drifting off was how nice it would be if Gladys' pretty owner was there too.

"Theo, what the fuck."

Theo woke with a start, to the loud voice of Lorenzo Berkshire ringing out above him. His eyes opened to see the other boy hovering over his bed, a look of shocked confusion apparent on his face.

"Is that y/n's cat?" he asks, leaning down as if to get a closer look at the fluff ball still snuggled in Theo's arms.

"No way," Matteo laughs from the other side of the room. "You stole her cat again? What, is this some sick and twisted new way for you to lure girls into your bed?"

Theo launches a pillow at Matteo's head. He doesn't miss.

"You better go return that thing before y/n starts to worry," Enzo advises, going back to his own side of the room. "And maybe just ask her out while you're at it hmm?" He adds, quickly ducking behind his fourposter before Theo has the chance to send another pillow flying his way.

With a heavy sigh, Theo comes to a stop outside of what he's pretty sure is the Ravenclaw common room. He's about to raise his hand to knock, when the golden eagle head mounted to the door springs to life.

"What gets broken, without being held?" The eagle asks, blinking at him slowly.

Right. Theo knew about this. The most annoying of the common room doors because instead of a password, the bloody door required you to answer a riddle. Theo was about to turn on his heel to leave when he felt a light presence behind him.

"Hello Theo. Hello Gladys." The platinum blonde haired girl said, giving the two of them an airy nod, before turning her attention to the door. "Would it perhaps be, a promise?" she asks.

The door swings open and Theo quickly hurries after the girl, making his way up the staircase. He'd never actually been inside the Ravenclaw common room, and his breath hitched when they reached the top of the stairs. The main room really was magnificent, nothing like the dark, eerie dungeons of the Slytherin common room. Theo eyed the shelves of books lining the wall longingly.

"Her room is just there, up and to the left," the blonde girl he'd followed in says, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Y/n? Her room is just there," the girl repeats, gesturing to a door at the top of another small flight of stairs.

"Oh. thanks," Theo makes out, giving the girl a nod of gratitude.

"Name's Luna by the way. Luna Lovegood." She says whimsically before floating off.

With a deep inhale to calm his nerves, Theo makes his way up the stairs and knocks gently on the door. Gladys lets out a meow of protest. Absolutely nothing could have prepared Theo for what was on the other side of the door. He felt his throat go completely dry as the door swung open and you stood in front of him in what was probably the shortest, skimpiest set of clothing that could possibly be considered pajamas. Theo tried not to stare, he really did, but he was only a man. A very weak and smitten man.

"Oh! There you are Gladys. I wondered where you wandered off to last night!" you say looking at your cat and then back up at Theo, and then again at your cat before looking back up at Theo expectantly. "Um. May I have my cat back?"

Theo jolts back to life, realizing he'd been staring and looks at you sheepishly.

"Sorry, don't know how this little one found me. Snuck her way into the Slytherin common room and then into my dorm. Didn't want to leave her in the halls alone, so I let her stay the night," he tells you.

You stare at the boy in shock, realizing that was the longest string of words you'd ever heard out of him.

"Wow Theodore, I'm impressed. I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk. And here I was thinking you were secretly illiterate," you say with a playful grin.

"Please," the boy scoffs. "I'm the picture of eloquence."

Interested in where this sudden burst of confidence that you didn't normally see from him had come from, you take a step back, inviting him into your room. He hesitantly accepts your invitation, bringing Gladys along with him.

"No roommates?" he asks, perching on the edge of your bed as Gladys purrs softly on his lap. At the moment, you found nothing more attractive than this man absolutely pampering your beloved pet.

"Not many Ravenclaw girls in our year, we had the option to share, but most of us opted for solo rooms. Wanted the extra privacy, I suppose," you tell him, leaning on one of the posts at the end of your bed.

Theo nods his head at this.

"I have two roommates," he shares.

"One of them happen to be Enzo Berkshire?"

Theo nods again. "And Matteo. Riddle" he adds.

You cock your head at that with a grin.

"Interesting pairing," you comment, imagining the chaos those two must bring with them.

"It never gets boring," Theo responds.

A moment of silence passes.

"I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime. I hear you're exceptionally talented at potions. And Charms. And everything really." Theo lets out finally.

You raise an eyebrow at the boy, internally screaming.

Trying to keep your cool, you tilt your head, "I hear you are too."

It's like a switch flips inside Theo.

"Well, we're obviously perfect for each other than," He replies easily, a cocky grin beginning to spread across his face. "Meet you in the library tomorrow at 7? And bring the cat."

You let out a laugh as Theo rises from the bed, gently placing Gladys down on the pillow, before going to make his way out of your dorm.

"You only like me for my cat," you joke, shifting to watch as he crosses the room to the door.

"Not just for your cat," he assures you, "I love the outfit, wear it for me more often, hmm?" he says slyly before the door thuds shut behind him.

You look down at your outfit, jaw dropping open and heat rushing to your cheeks.

Theo's head was pounding. Music pumped through the Slytherin common room and Theo could barely see through the crowds of people around him as he pushed his way to the circle of sofas occupied by his friends. Collapsing into a spot next to Matteo, the boy offered him another shot of who-knew-what which he quickly knocked back.

"When's that pretty little thing that's been occupying all your time gonna join us at one of our little gathering?" Matteo slurs out, gesturing to the large crowd around them.

Over the past several weeks, you and Theo had grown significantly closer; your first study date quickly becoming a daily occurrence as you found that you each were able to easily keep up with one another. Something about having a partner who was actually able to challenge you was exhilarating. From there, you found yourselves often seeking each other out simply for the sake of good company, Gladys largely increasing the number of these meetings.

"Don't know that Gladys would like it. Cat's aren't supposed to ingest alcohol," Theo responded, not quite drunk enough to fall for his friend's taunting.

Enzo places another shot in his hand, and Theo raises a brow at him, before knocking that one back as well.

"Did you ever ask y/n why in Salazar's name, she choose to name her cat Gladys?" Matteo asks. "If my name were Gladys, I'd being running off constantly too."

Theo thumps Matteo on the back of the head.

"You leave our cat out of this, she ain't do nothin wrong," he says, glaring at his friend.

"So now she's our cat is she?" Enzo asks, a smirk growing on his face. "Didn't know you and y/n were so serious."

"It's our cat damnit! If marrying y/n is what it takes to finally have a cat of my own, so be it," Theo says decidedly.

Enzo snorts at his clearly, very drunk friend. "Careful, or one might think you're only into her for her cat. And not the cunty kind."

Theo scowls at this. "Y/n says that all the time, but have you seen that ass? And the way she mopped the floor with Draco in potions the other day? She's perfect."

"Yeah? Why don't you go tell her that then?" Matteo says, wanting nothing more than to see a drunk Theo try to make his way to Ravenclaw Tower.

"You know what? I will. And I'll pet Gladys too." Theo states. A look of pure, intoxicated determination set on his face.

Lorenzo eyes his friend warily. While not exactly sober himself, he didn’t particularly like the look his friend was giving them.

“Aw c’mon Enz, don’t you try and be the voice of reason now,” Matteo drawls, sensing the hesitation coming from his friend. “Don’t you want to meet the lil thing our beloved Theodore has been obsessing over for weeks now?”

“I’m not obsessing,” Theo snaps, taking a sip straight out of a random bottle he’d picked up from the table.

“Let’s go. I’m gonna steal her cat. For real this time.”

With a wide grin, Matteo jumps up, ready to follow his friend wherever the night took him. With a low groan, Enzo followed suit, knowing that his pair of roommates would need some sort of guidance to prevent them from walking themselves straight of the edge of the astronomy tower.

You didn’t have a lot of expectations for the quiet Friday night that you were spending curled up with a book and your cat. It was late, and after a long and stressful week, the time alone with Gladys was just what you needed to really recharge. You had spent most of your day lounging out on the lawn next to the Black Lake with Theodore, studying with and harassing the boy. A small smile crept onto your face, remembering the way his brown curls had floated about in the soft breeze.

You really hadn’t expected for the two of you to become so close, so quickly, but you weren’t complaining. You’d grown quite fond of the boy, especially once he started opening up a bit more. You’d initially thought that he was a man of very few words, but quickly learned he was in fact very sharp witted and even a bit snarky at times. Time spent with him had easily become your favorite part of the day and was something you were constantly looking forward to.

A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to jump a bit where you were sitting, Gladys letting out a yowl of protest.

You quickly cross the room and open the door to find a very miffed looking Cho, a frown imbedded on her face.

“Sorry to bother, but could you please come get your boy under control? He’s upsetting the portraits.” She says.

You blink once. Then again.

“Sorry?”

“Your Slytherin fellow? He’s out in the corridor with two of his friends harassing the door,” she explains, turning to lead you down the spiral staircase.

You’re not even halfway down when you begin to hear the voices.

“Who in the bloody hell would want to be in Ravenclaw with this blast-ended skewt ass looking-“

“Matteo you can’t curse out the door.”

“I’ll curse at the bloody door if I want to bloody curse at it.”

You grimace, looking at Cho who looks back with a similarly displeased facial expression.

“Sorry bout them. I’ll take it from here,” you tell her when you reach the bottom.

With a slight nod, she turns to retreat back up the stairs. With a sigh, you push the door open, almost taking out Matteo who had been leaning on it for support.

“Hi amore, fancy seeing you here,” Theo slurs, a grin taking over his face at the sight of you.

Enzo leans against a pillar, face in hands, looking like he wanted to disappear. You could smell the alcohol on all of them.

“Hi Theodore. Are you sober?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“I’m moderately functional,” he replies with a lopsided smile.

“I’m taking that as a no,” you say, glancing worriedly at Matteo who was currently laying spread eagle on the floor. “Let’s get you boys back to your common room.”

“I wouldn’t. Party’s not gonna end any time soon. They’ll just get more hammered and start wandering off again,” Enzo advises, head still in hands. “Like herding hippogriffs with those two.”

“And Theo hasn’t proclaimed his undying love for y/n yet!” Matteo adds.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and Theo glowers at his friend.

“It’s okay Theo, I know he’s drunk,” you say, not certain if you were saying it more to comfort him or yourself.

Theo ignores you however, turning his attention back to the door.

“Let us in, I just want to pet the cat,” he tells the door, swaying ever so slightly.

For Salazar’s sake. Man gets absolutely wasted and just wants to pet your cat. You go to grab onto Theo to steady him, but he has other plans. Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Hi,” he mumbles, picking you up just enough that your toes barely touch the ground. “I missed you. Can we see the cat now?”

Not knowing what else to do, you glance helplessly at Enzo.

“Would you be able to get Matteo up the stairs?” You ask.

“I can try. He’s a stubborn bastard though.”

You turn back to the door, knocking once. The eagle once again moves to life, glaring at the scene in front of it.

“If the day before yesterday was the 23rd, what is the day after tomorrow?” It asks crankily.

“We’re too fucking wasted for this bloody bullshit,” Matteo moans from the floor.

You try to ignore Theo’s tight grasp on your waist and Enzo prodding at Matteo with his foot before answering. “The 27th.”

The door swings open and you try your best to haul Theo through, Enzo following closely behind with a very disgruntled Matteo. Dragging the boys up the staircase feels like the most difficult task of your life as you constantly tell Matteo to lower his voice and mind his mouth while also trying to ignore the very minimal distance between yourself and Theodore. When you finally make it to the top, you rush to herd the boys into your room before slamming the door shut behind you with relief. Theo immediately stumbles over to your bed, collapsing face first in the middle and snatching Gladys into his arms.

“No roommates?” Enzo asks, looking around the room and seeing the single empty bed that you had pushed into the corner at the beginning of the year.

“No, thank Rowena. I would not want to have to explain whatever this is.” You reply, motioning to Theo and Matteo who was now wandering about the room.

“Room’s a mess. Coulda at least cleaned up a bit,” he says, poking at the various books and blank scrolls lying about.

“Had I known I would be having guests at,” you glance at the clock, “almost 2 in the morning, I’m sure I would have.” You say dryly.

Retrieving your wand from your desk, you point it at the spare bed. “Engorgio.” The wooden frame creaks as it expands until it can comfortably fit 2 people. You look at Enzo.

“Good luck with that one,” you say, almost feeling sorry for the boy as Matteo flops onto the bed with a groan.

“Looks like you’re gonna need it more than me,” he replies, gesturing to Theo who was out cold, Gladys trapped and bug eyed in his grasp. With a sigh you and Enzo each resign yourselves to your respective charge.

“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a light shove. No sign of life. You give him a slightly harder shove, allowing Gladys is wriggle out of her prison. Frowning, you sit down on the edge of the bed, using most of your body weight to shove Theo to one side of the bed before sliding under the covers. Now deeming it safe, Gladys hops back into the bed, nestling into your arms happily. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel arms snaking around your waste, pulling you into the very warm chest of Theodore Nott. You freeze, holding your breath, not sure if the boy is asleep or not.

“Goodnight mi amore,” he whispers into your neck, causing the hairs to prickle.

Definitely not asleep.

“Goodnight Theodore.”

You hadn’t had any expectations for the night really, but you definitely had not expected to have multiple overnight guests who were trying to steal your cat. And you most certainly did not expect to drift off in the arms of Theodore Nott.

The next morning you wake up missing the usual lump of fur weighing down on your chest. Immediately you bolt upright, eyes shooting around for any sign of your furry companion before the events of last night wash over you. Enzo and Matteo are both still out cold and when you look down, your jaw drops open. Theo is fast asleep, back facing you, Gladys snoozing contentedly while cradled in his arms. Even in his sleep this absolute tosser had managed to steal your damn cat.

Careful not to wake the boys, or Gladys, you silently sneak across the room and disappear out the door. Once you’re safely out of hearing distance, you make your way quickly down the kitchens. A little known fact about the Hogwarts house elves was that many had once served in the homes of different wizarding families at one time or another. This meant that many of the elves were all too familiar with the valuable hangover potion that you sought.

Ducking in through the portrait hole, it wasn’t difficult to persuade the elves into handing over 3 glistening blue vials. You had always been kind to them, often chatting with them during your visits with the cats.

Your task complete, you made your way back to Ravenclaw tower, taking your time as you didn’t expect the boys to be up any time soon. They really had been plastered. Not even Enzo had been completely sober you recalled.

You’re just passing the entrance to the dungeons when a voice calls out.

“Hey! You!”

You’re ready to continue on your way before noticing that there was no one else in the corridor they could be referring to. You turn to see two girls you recognized as the Greengrass sisters hurrying towards you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the shorter blonde girl says when they get closer. You’re pretty sure that one is Astoria. “You’re the girl Theo has been seeing right?”

You nod your head cautiously. You knew Theo had a reputation for getting around, so if that’s what this was about, things were about to become quite awkward.

“You haven’t happened to see him or Matteo or Lorenzo, have you?” The other girl, Daphne, asks.

“Draco said he saw the three of them leave the party together last night, but no one saw them come back,” Astoria explains.

You feel yourself immediately relax. Good. At least this was something you could help with.

“You two are lucky you found me then I suppose,” you tell them, gesturing for them to follow. “The three of them tried breaking into Ravenclaw tower last night, so I let them crash in my dorm.”

“Oh Salazar. Were they trying to steal your cat? I’m so sorry. When Matteo gets drunk he has a tendency to try and egg Theo on,” Astoria frets.

You give the girls a strange look. “You know about my cat?” You ask, surprised.

“Oh sure,” Daphne replies. “Whole group does really. Boys came back one night going on about how Theo was just smitten with some Ravenclaw with a cute cat. And I can see why. You’re gorgeous by the way.”

You blush at her statement, diverting the subject away.

“The boys should probably still be asleep. I just ran down to the kitchens to get these,” you tell them, brandishing the potions you had gathered. “Once they’ve downed these, they’re all yours.”

Astoria eyes the potions with jealousy and you realize the two girls were probably decently hung over as well.

“Oh you can keep Theo, we were really just looking to collect Enzo and Matt,” Daphne laughs, giving you a sly look. You open your mouth to reply, but stop realizing you had reached your common room door.

After a few attempts, you’re finally able to solve the blasted riddle and the door swings open.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had this many Slytherins in our common room before,” you joke, leading the girls up to your room.

Pushing the door open, you’re unsurprised to see the boys still passed out.

“This must be the infamous Gladys,” Daphne whispers, quietly approaching Theo who was still clutching onto Gladys as if his life depended on it. Again you’re surprised that these girls apparently even knew the name of your cat.

The two coo at the sight of your cat, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed worthy of warranting cat theft before Astoria finally decided it was time for them to get the boys out of your hair. They migrated over to the other side of the room where Enzo and Matteo were sound asleep, leaving you to deal with Theo.

You decide the easiest route, may just be to lure Gladys away, so you fetch her food dish before accio-ing her kibble container. At the sound of her food, Gladys was up and running, darting over for her morning feast. At the sudden loss of fluffy heat, Theo groaned, rolling over, face down into the pillows. After giving Gladys her food, you move back to Theo, giving him a rough shake.

“Come back to bed principessa,” he grumbles, reaching out and flailing his arm in your general direction.

“It’s time to get up Theodore. Come on, I got you three hangover potions,” you say, waving one over his head.

“Did someone say hangover potion? Give,” Matteo demands from the other side of the room. You look over to see Daphne and Astoria sitting on the side of the bed while Matteo and Enzo were groggily waking up.

Pulling out her wand, Daphne gestured for you to toss her the potions which her magic catches easily, levitating the vials over to the other two boys. Matteo snatches one out of the air, quickly downing half before offering the other half to Astoria. Enzo does the same, giving the second half to Daphne who graciously accepts. After a moment, the four of them are looking much more awake.

“Thanks for making sure these three didn’t drown themselves in the lake,” Astoria says, once the potion had really kicked. “And sorry you’re not having more luck with that one. He’s always been a late riser.”

“You’ll be lucky to get him up in the next hour,” Enzo agrees, rising from the bed. “Thanks again y/n.”

The four of them shuffle out of your dorm, a chorus is thanks and apologies strung along until they reached the door. Even Matteo gave you a nod of gratitude. Once they were all gone, you collapse once more onto your bed.

“They finally gone?” You hear Theo ask, as he rolls over to look at you. You nod, faces so close that your noses are practically touching and you can feel small puffs of air as he exhales. “Thanks for last night. I’m sorry for trying to steal your cat.”

You let out a snort at that. “Did you know when I woke up this morning, you had turned away from me completely, and stolen my cat away from me in your sleep?” You ask with a laugh.

Theo at least has the decency to look embarrassed as Gladys joins the two of you once more.

“I should do this more often,” Theo says finally, reaching out to stroke Gladys’s fur.

“What? Get downright plastered and break into my room, or steal my cat?” You scoff.

“Sleep in your bed with you.”

You freeze, looking up to see if the boy was being serious. His eyes blink back at you unwavering.

“You can come back any time,” you tell him, snuggling your way into his chest, ready to fall back asleep in the boy’s arms.

“Will Gladys be here?”

“Oh my god, yes she will be here,” you say dramatically throwing your head back.

Theo grins down at you, leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours.

“I’m only joking amore,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of your nose.

“Of course Gladys would be here, she adores me.”

“Get out of my bed.”

A/N

My biggest regret in life, is being highly allergic to cats </3

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