#a part of him really is considering killing them all as the only way to protect Megumi

[watarfallar]

*gay braincell tossing*

Scar: Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Grian: Why start now?

Grian: I love you. Scar: I love me too.

Grian: I literally cannot believe I let you talk me into this. Scar: I literally said “I have an idea,” and you just went along with it without question.

Scar: Snow got me feeling some type of way. Grian: That's hypothermia.  Scar: Damn, the paramedics told me it was the magic of Christmas.

Grian: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life. Scar: Please never become a surgeon.

Scar: *gets set on fire and screams in agony* Scar: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Scar: Damn, the power went out. Grian: Don’t worry, I got this. Grian: *stomps foot* Scar: What-? Grian: *Sketchers light up*

Grian: We either die free, or die trying! Scar: Are those the only choices?

Scar: I’m totally useless. Grian: You’re not totally useless. Grian: You can be used as a bad example.

Scar: Fellas, I gotta know for science. Is the opposite of red green or blue? Grian: Technically a mix of green and blue? Scar: So blurple. Grian: That's implying you're mixing blue and purple. Scar: Would you rather have fucking bleen? MOTHERFUCKING GRUE? Grian: You were confusing before but now I'm scared.

Scar: Why is it so hard for you to believe me?! Grian: ... Scar: Oh, right. The lying.

Grian: You’re not jealous, are you? Scar: No! Grian: Good, ‘cause I consider my fake relationship with you a lot more meaningful.

Scar: And what did we learn, Grian? Grian: Tackling someone isn’t the correct response to being asked a simple question.

Scar: You know, it’s fine to admit you were wrong. Grian: *Sipping their drink after accidentally adding salt* I just like the way it tastes.

Scar: You are a solid 11/10. Grian: Aw, thank- Scar: Which is 1.1 because you look like shit.

Scar: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Grian? Grian: …Not really. Scar: Nothing? Grian: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.

Grian: Kill him. Scar: This is the kind of quality advice I look for.

Scar: There are no friends when playing board games. I am here to win.

Grian, texting: Scar, will you please go to sleep? Scar, texting back: What makes you think you didn’t just wake me up? Grian, yelling: I CAN HEAR YOU CLAPPING TO THE FRIENDS THEME EVERY TWENTY MINUTES SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP! Grian, texting: Just a hunch :) You goin’ to sleep soon? Scar, texting: I’m trying Grian, yelling again: TRY HARDER I HAVE A 5:45 AM MEETING TOMORROW BITCH Grian, texting: Okay, don’t stay up too late or you’ll be cranky :)

Scar: I’m a masochist, not a loser.

Scar: Wow, that was quick thinking on that phony sacrifice stuff. Grian: Oh, that was all real. Scar: Wait, you were trying to help them kill us?! Grian: If I’m gonna be sacrificed, I’m gonna do it right.

Grian: *spins around in chair ominously* I’ve been expecting y- *chair continues to spin* shit *tries to stop spinning* shit *tries to grab a table to stop spinning* sHIT *falls out of chair*

Grian: I’m not stupid, you know. Scar: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

Scar: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you. Scar: Ask me to kill for you. Grian: ...First of all, calm down-

Scar: Grian, you’ve tried 37 times and you’ve failed every time. Give it a break. Grian: DO I HEAR “FIRST TRY PART 38?”

Grian: I know how this must look but I can assure you we have a perfectly logical explanation. Scar: Yeah! We’re cowards!

Scar: *holds a gun out to Grian* Grian: I-I don't believe in guns. Scar: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

Scar: I owe you one. Grian: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Grian: I hate you with every inch of my body! Scar: That’s not a lot of inches.

Scar, to Grian: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. Grian: … Scar: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a best friend.

Scar: I need a long word. Grian: T-rex but the long one.

Grian: I see the red flags, I acknowledge that they're there, and then I completely ignore them.

Grian: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go. Scar: Those are wanted posters!

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

DRV3 blackeneds and how you would (maybe) perform first aid on them if they managed to survive their executions (part 2)

I'm surprised you guys seemed to like the last post I made along these lines, so here's some self indulgent brain rot yet again. Once again should say that I'm just a beginner and am omitting stuff

Kaede:

For this, let's say that Kaede managed to escape being crushed by those spikes at the end. She'd either have to be gently lifted down, or have something moved under her so that the rope was no longer strangling her. After that, she should be carefully lowered to the ground for assumed spinal injuries (hold cspine). If she got nicked by the spikes at all, put pressure to those injuries. Treat for shock, give oxygen.

Kirumi:

Kirumi DEFINITELY has a major spinal/head injury. She should be immediately held in cspine and then checked for broken bones, which should then be stabilized. This is a rough one because of the sheer amount of lacerations she has- first aid responders would probably have to quickly identify the worst ones (ie the ones bleeding the most) and immediately bandage them up to put pressure on them while bandaging up the minor ones and freeing their hands to again deal with the major cuts. Treat for shock, too. You'd need all hands on deck for this one.

Korekiyo:

Other than dizziness and disorientation, the spinning at the beginning should be no problem. The biggest concern would be the major burns he would have over 80+% of his body, which would be life threatening. You'd have to remove as much of his clothes that were submerged in the boiling water as possible before any swelling, but not if they were stuck to him. Use cool (not cold) water to lessen the pain, then cover him in a dry sheet until you can get more help. I'm going to assume some kind of internal head injury (re: bleeding from the eyes?) and say to hold cspine just in case.

Gonta:

Uhhh. Hoo boy. okay. The biggest concern here is obviously the gaping chest wound. This would be extremely difficult to deal with and is kind of immediately out of my scope, but If I had to try and do something, Id say to pack the injury and slow blood flow as much as possible. Lower him and hold cspine, though the stake he's tied to might ironically help with this (considering the exit wound is probably through the spine, I'm not sure it would help MUCH, but it's better than not doing anything). I guess while youre waiting for more help you can care for the stings? but the chest wound is going to be problematic enough I don't think you'd have time to worry about that.

In a much more ideal situation, the bug's leg would stay through him and help to stop blood loss. But regardless, this is a really rough one.

Kaito:

If we're just talking about his execution itself, we'd have to check for broken bones and hold cspine for an assumed spinal/head injury. But that's not what killed him, is it? I'm not entirely sure how to go about Kaito's illness... from what we have in canon there really isn't much that could be done via first aid anyways. Keep him comfortable, give him oxygen, let him cough up the blood. The only way a first aid responder could do anything is if we were playing by the rules that his "illness" was actually poison. If you could figure out what poison it was, that could be extremely useful for him getting the help he needs later. but yeah, not much you can really do about that for him in the moment.

[disregardcanon]

a few ways others influenced how Billy manifested "The Road"

the conversation about "taming your fears" and then "trials" and agatha claiming that they would face a trial for "each skill" shapes not only the setup as A Series of Four Trials, but also the emphasis on PERSONAL GROWTH. Billy ends up focusing in on what he knows about these different women whose minds he can read and who he keeps getting to know more and more as they go around

"i thought this would be obvious, but we should stay on the road" and then teen adding "I STRAY NOT FROM THE PATH!" happily like a student eagerly raising their hand in class. and then agatha is able to say "hello yes favorite student PLEASE make our situation go by what happens in the song i made up with my son. if you believe it then that'll become our reality! yay!"

agatha keeps asserting that billy is the familiar because oh boy! if he doesn't think of himself as Part of the Coven in the same way maybe his brain won't turn on him and get us all killed! yay!

For the first trial, Jennifer says that she "looks like one of her customers", and her business and clientele are BOTH something that Billy is familiar with. From the different versions of the Ballad, he already considers Personal Trauma to be something that's confronted on the Road, so of course he subconsciously chose something that created traumatic hallucinations, and then Agatha is still figuring out How This Thing That Shouldn't Be Is Going to Work so of COURSE she's reticent to drink the weird ominous now surely poisoned wine. she knows that the road isn't a real, cosmic entity that has set rules the way that others think. she fights against the idea that they all have to drink because if she had convinced billy that they didn't... she wouldn't have to! but with the combination of his preconceptions and the rest of the coven, who thinks that this is One Hundred Percent Real... he stays set on the idea that them, the Coven Members, all have to drink.

agatha stops fighting for HEY NO WE DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS as soon as billy decides if she doesn't, he will. she doesn't want to die for this, but she's also not stupid enough to have The Kid That Almost Definitely Is Making This Happen drink the wine instead of her. it actually IS better for her to be incapacitated and them have a chance to get out than to poison the kid who's clearly Doing The Magic Here,

For the second trial, Billy has some information from Alice about how her situation with her mom went via Being Right By Her During Her Hallucination and Alice Telling Him Things. from the hallucination: we get lorna playing with the cigarette lighter, saying she could feel alice's grandmother die thousands of miles away, smoke, and "I CAN'T PROTECT YOU!" he was right outside the door, where i'm sure he could hear her thoughts. this gives him enough to clearly connect Alice with fire in his mind. the rest of the trial was just... him knowing that alice has issues with her mother and her mother's version of the ballad, and creating a circumstance where she'd work through that issue. he really lucked into it being a protection spell for a proper generational curse.

other bits of trial number two: "seriously, we're an album cover waiting to happen!" teen exclaims. the walls of assorted Bad Things That Happen to Witches and then lorna wu merchandise.

he doesn't actually know nearly as much about agatha as the others, because he can't read agatha's mind. i think that the ouija board trial was the first one where his brain was just "huh, okay... what are the vibes of talking to spirits?" lilia establishes that spirit magic can't be hers because it was a con and establishes herself as divination for later, and then RIO is the one that makes it agatha's. i haven't totally figured out why, though. or what his subconscious had in mind for what "passing" the trial would look like. evanora and nicky were definitely the real ghosts pulled in with the help of the ouija board, but the reasoning behind it is a lot less... clear to me than the others.

the outside of the road was treacherous enough to keep sharon inside, but it didn't kill him and i don't think that it would have. the goal of that subconscious bit of magic was a fence, vs the subconscious use of the Trials, which according to the ballad, being used to construct it, COULD be deadly. (if one be gone we carry on, spirit as our guide). then of course when agatha, lilia and jen got sucked under it, despite how angry he was... it was a conscious enough use of magic and he didn't ACTUALLY want them dead.

the divination trial was pretty clearly set up in his brain for lilia. the tarot, the old timey european aesthetic of the set, and then the different witch costumes assigned to different witches to represent how he views them. it also makes sense that they couldn't figure out how to "pass it" before lilia got there because neither billy nor agatha are very good at tarot and they were just sniping at each other about how to do it, vs lilia who divined her whole life and was able to use the power boost billy's powers gave her to go out with a bang.

the green trial, i think, was a desperate last moment brain attempt to just shove them in a room and get results. the aesthetic was Scary Morgue because he finally had rio/death to slot into the green witch part of his brain. the idea, then, became Give the Survivors What They Came For, then they can leave. they got jen unbound and she got to disappear. agatha guided him through getting tommy a body and then he got to disappear, and then his brain kept agatha there until she was able to get at her own reason for being on the road: starting anew. then it let them all out.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

I was so concerned about Megumi in sea glass. Then it hit me, this was after Geto. Gojo's one and only. He was already hurting, yet functioning to help. Then he finds his son, dying. I would have broken down. Gods. We don't appreciate Gojo enough ;×;

Oh, Gojo’s going through it.

He hasn’t stopped or slept since Geto declared his war, really. He definitely hasn’t had a second’s rest since Geto died.

It’s just been too busy. They had to manage an evacuation of the biggest city on the planet when Geto declared war, as well as another evacuation of one of the biggest. Then there was the fight, killing Geto, the school being destroyed, the higher ups moving in on Yuuta, the massive curse outbreak that came in the aftermath of Geto’s war as a byproduct of the mass panic—Gojo hasn’t had a single second to sit and process Geto’s death since he had to deal the final blow.

Then there was Megumi. And the thing was that Gojo sort of hadn’t thought of Megumi and Tsumiki since he last saw them.

They were just sort of the two things that he thought were completely safe and handled. Tsumiki and Megumi were pros at managing themselves at the age of five. A week on their own as teenagers? They’d be totally fine. Sure, Megumi got into fights at school and Tsumiki had been on his ass about it lately, but those weren’t things that would ever rise to emergency level crisis.

Even with Megumi lashing out at school and Tsumiki lashing out at him back, Gojo just had absolute confidence in the fact that they wouldn’t cause any issues while he was gone? The thing about Megumi and Tsumiki is that they knew exactly which lines not to cross. He ordered them to be locked up in the house safely when Geto’s war came, and he was absolutely positive that they would listen.

He didn’t even think to worry about something like Megumi starting a taming ritual while he wasn’t there to supervise, because that was the exact kind of safety net that Megumi had never once fucked with.

His kids had a good sense of when they needed to call him. They would do it if they needed him. They were good kids with good heads on their shoulders, and they would be just fine on their own.

He had a million and one things demanding his attention, and they were supposed to be safe at home. He didn’t even think about the kids.

The thing was that Gojo’s phone number had changed, but Tsumiki’s and Megumi’s hadn’t. If he had texted them even once to check in, he would have immediately gotten a frantic text from Tsumiki about how Megumi had never come home, and what phone number is he even texting from, because the ones the assistant gave her wasn’t this one, and none of those numbers were working. He would have immediately suspected the Zenin as the ones who caused his disappearance, because the Zenin are automatically the number one suspect whenever something’s off in megumi’s world.

The Zenin didn’t make him summon the Serpent until after Geto died. If he had texted even once before that, he would have been able to save Megumi before he ended up like this.

There’s this terrible timeline in his head as to the things he could have saved Megumi from had he just checked on them. If he had texted the day of the war? He could have saved him from the Serpent, the humiliation of being dressed in front of a crowd, of part of the last time he was left fighting curses…

If he had remembered to call Megumi to wish him happy birthday, then maybe he would have discovered it the day that Megumi was taken. Maybe he could have stopped all of it.

He’s not okay right now.

[longagoitwastuesday]

Kusakabe, dear, you're too beautiful to be saying that kind of stuff

[bootleg-nessie]

Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are

[orcelito]

I'm right at the start of Hidan and Kakuzu's arc and I am So Scared

This is one that hurts fr bcksbmf

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[pomefioredove]

now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up

crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake

he acts so... casual about it?

swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"

"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"

okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you

"To what?"

Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."

(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)

Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices

"So you'll let me go once you get me?"

"Uhhh..."

Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him

Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him

(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)

Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess

even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast

you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!

of all the irresponsible things...

of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too

purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble

he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours

of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too

going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?

I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?

actually don't answer that

...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie

but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?

for one, you'd make a really good pillow

he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that

and malleus would hate it

...that's reason enough for him

plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?

either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie

news travels fast around school, after all

then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed

that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!

besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!

so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price

he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Azul is annoyed

once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about

talk about good marketing...

why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!

of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary

it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one

Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof

though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion

a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around

and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says

"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"

hint: he is not

the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it

(AKA infinite sleepovers)

and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!

he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in

right next to his of course :)

and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you

after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him

You don't always get what you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable

he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner

with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...

when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs

oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?

of all the silly, immature things...

oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding

(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)

Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile

but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately

with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"

Idia understandably freaks out

"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"

(liar)

(...but this is still different)

the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus

"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."

Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"

"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"

"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"

Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege

Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made

he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident

though, of course, he goes to you first

seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week

and he's in a great mood!

"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"

you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"

"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"

you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"

"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"

certainly he's not this naive, you think

"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"

he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"

huh. that was a strange way of putting it

but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it

and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!

"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"

he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"

"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[the-boy-meets-evil]

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)

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[rapplesart]

Random fic idea

Tim drake but instead of loosing his spleen he lost part of his leg.

Tim thought it was obvious he was missing his right leg from the knee down. It was a whole leg that was missing after all. Sure he was wearing a prosthetic made by Ra's' best people.

One he painfully earned after that crazy fucker made him fight a bunch of his assassins one legged in order to "proof himself as the true heir of the bat he saw in him" or something. So sure, the leg might be more advanced than most, and it imitated natural steps a lot easier and even made it possible to easily run without switching to a different leg. Truly it was a perfect leg be vigilante with. But he never even bothered to give it human like appearances.

But apparently the Fam didn't notice. When he returned with Bruce everyone was too reliefed to give Tim a closer look and it just never came up afterwards.

Tim thought they just didn't want to ask about it in a weird attempt of being polite or even caring. Bruce surely did enough research on how it happened on his own. The man spend the whole travel back to Gotham with Tim after all. Tim truly believed the world's greatest detective would have noticed his missing leg.

Except he didn't. Not if he interpreted the way they looked so incredibly disturbed by is nonchalant way of handlinh the boiling hot chemicals that landed on his metal leg. He just brushed it off, the battle continued and since nothing seemed to be injured no one pressed him when he said "Must've missed me after all"

Now, how do you deal with a family that didn't notice you're missing a leg? That's right you fuck with them.

First thing he did was buy himself a few more realistic looking prosthetic leg. It had to be custom made to fit his stump so it took a whole but it was a worthwhile investment.

The first one was Jason. Call it a twisted revenge for trying to kill him but Tim just really wanted him to be messed with the most. So one day when he knew it was only Jason and him on patrol he strategically set himself down to fall. Crunching some spaghettis to ass in a sickening way only to stand up and walk away as if nothing ever happened.... With his foot toned the wrong way around. Insisting on nothing being wrong and Jason being delusional whenever the older boy tried to get him to get medical treatment. He switched it up the whole evening, whenever he was out of sight he turned the fool right and wrong. Driving the guy insane.

Jason did not sleep well that night. He was also top weirded out and unsure if what he saw was real to talk about it with anyone else.

Then, he challenged dick to a flexibility contest seeing how far they han bend their knees and feet. Even Mr bones are a social construct gymnast Richard Grayson looked horrified as Tim stood there, food bend almost in half, knee twisted to the impossible and what looked lihe a bend in the middle of his leg. Dick claimed cheating except the thing that greeted him when he demanded Tim to puch up his pant leg to expose his trick was a normal looking leg. The first Robin did lots of stretches in the following weeks. His pride was hurt after all.

Finding a way to mess with Damian was a bit more difficult. The brat still made a bunch of harsh comments again and again and he really wasn't close enough with Tim to be easily gaslit. The kid was a trained assassin and was probably used to a bunch of weird shit considering everything Ra's. So Tim decided he could go a bit more gory on Robin than the others. So one night he sat in front of Damians room, in the dark hallway and waited till one of his pets passed him. Once Alfred the Cat came along he made some louder coping noise that would Definetly make the kid look out to check on his animals. It worked just as planned, Damian peeked out his door to see Tim, crosslegged and barefoot on the floor, seemingly cutting off his toe to feed the cat. In reality it was nothing more than a cat treat and carefully picked, animal safe food coloring.

The kid scremed at him, threatened to stab him, punched him real good for harming his cat and took off with said cat to find Alfred so the older man could check on the poor kitten. Of course not beforeaking sure Tim was in an adequate amount of pain on the floor, with his 'injured' food secured to the floor with another knife. Only to return with a worried Alfred on tow to see Tim, standing two whole bare feet with a confused expression and a bag of cat treats in the hall.

Tim got a broken nose for it but it surely was worth it. Especially once he quietly whispered a 'no one will ever belief you' to the kid in passing. He might have traumatised the boy a little but Tim fought it justified for all the attempted murder he suffered.

[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

[cameronluvr]

BABY TRAPPED — dark!rafe x fem reader

summary: rafe purposely gets you pregnant against your own will after you choose the pogues instead of him.

warnings: 18+ !!, DUBCON, forced pregnancy, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, dark!rafe, arguing, fighting, choking, SMUT, fingering, slapping, unprotected sex (p in v) forced sex, jealous!rafe, kinda stalker!rafe, kidnapping(?), creampie, teen pregnancy. (lmk if anymore!)

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ PART 2

you had been at john b’s chateau for most of the day hanging out with your friends, but you’d promised your parents you’d be home before midnight. looking at the time on your phone, you noticed it was 11:13 pm.

you’d been drinking a little bit, and so had your friends, so driving home wasn’t an option. “guys, i’m gonna need to leave soon” you say over the mild volume of music playing.

“why?” kiara asks. “my parents told me i had to be home before 12. they’re kinda worried about me because of the whole.. you know.. rafe thing” you reply.

over the past few weeks you’d been going through a rough breakup with rafe. you couldn’t handle him anymore. his anger, his jealousy, his everything. he was no good for you anymore, and with the whole rafe vs pogues situation, you had to pick a side. your boyfriend or your best friends.

you had to pick your friends. there was no other choice, no other way out. rafe had tormented your friends for months. he pulled his gun on them, he beat them up, he attempted to kill kiara and his own sister sarah. and he almost killed you.

you’d lost track of how many fights you had with him, how many times he hit you and you hit him back. the screaming wars you’d have always ended up with him choking you or slapping you, and ward having to physically pull him away from you.

you just couldn’t put up with him anymore. he was manipulative, toxic, and most of all abusive. your friends knew about all of this, and tried so hard to get you away from him, but you couldn’t escape from him. he’d always convince you otherwise, guilt trip you, lie to you, twist your words…

“ya’ want me to walk you home?” jj asks, sitting beside you, smoking his blunt. you think about it for a second, but decline his offer. “thanks, but i’m okay, really. i’ll be fine” you nod and smile. “you sure?” sarah asks from across the room as they all practically look at you as if you were crazy. rafe was crazy, and if he saw you alone, only god knows what he would do…

“yeah, i’m good. i think i need to be alone anyway. take a nice walk by myself” you shrug. you hadn’t really had much alone time in months, considering you had a boyfriend glued to your hip out of distrust.

“okay, well, please call us if you need us, m’kay?” sarah says, walking over to you to hug you. she’s worried for you the most, you’re her best friend and her own brother is ruining your life. “i will, promise” you smile, standing up to hug her tightly.

“love you, y/n” kiara says with a smile as you walk out the door, saying bye to them all. you blow a kiss to kie before shutting the door behind you. they all know you’re going through a tough time, so they’re trying their best to be there for you and look out for you. they all love you.

walking home now, you stroll down the dark, long road ahead, with nothing surrounding you but tall trees and dim streetlights. no people, no lit-up houses, just dark and quiet streets with people in bed.

you walk for ten more minutes before you hear a car approaching from behind you. you give it no thought though, not wanting to worry yourself. the car gets closer, as if it were going to drive straight past you, but suddenly, you hear the car slowing down and eventually stopping right next to you. you don’t want to look, but you have to.

your heart sank into your chest when you noticed rafe’s black range rover, right as the window rolled down. it was rafe. “y/n get in.” his tone demanding and angry. “no, leave me alone.” you quickly turn around, power walking away. however, he only follows you. he slowly drives, following you, speeding up and slowing down whenever you do.

“y/n just get in i wanna talk” he says out the window, resting his arm on it as he watches you, attempting to talk to you. “rafe, leave me the fuck alone.” your voice gets louder, but you’re not yelling, yet. “save yourself the hassle and get in for fuck’s sake” he says, getting more frustrated by the second.

“no” you say, not looking in his direction at all. “oh my god” he says, sighing before putting the car in park and getting out. “no, go away!” you say, attempting to run but he grabs you before you can. you thrash around in his arms before he picks you up and drags you to his car.

“put me down!” you yell at him, trying to fight him but he is much stronger than you are. he opens the passenger door, shoving you inside before quickly getting in the drivers seat and locking the doors.

“what the fuck are you d—” you scream at him before his hand roughly covers your mouth, shutting you up. “i just wanted to talk, but you always have to make it hard, don’t you?” he says, eventually letting go of your mouth and seeing a mark left over from how tight his grip was.

“i don’t want to fucking talk! you yell as he rolls the windows all the way up so nobody can hear you fussing. “i don’t care. who the fuck do you think you are?” he yells at you, making you flinch. “what?” your eyebrows furrow.

“choosing those fucking trash pogues over me. are you serious? dumping me for them?” he argues. you’ve had this argument with him plenty of times, he seems to not be able to let it go. or let you go. “rafe. i didn’t want to be your girlfriend anymore, okay? you’re abusive, you’re mean, you’re—” you say, only to be cut off by his laughter. “abusive? for wanting to protect you? for wanting the best for you? right” he squints his eyes. “wanting the best for me? are you serious? you’ve done nothing but hurt me, and hurt my friends, including your own sister, by the way!” you argue, but he scoffs and tuts, as if they were nothing.

“because i told you so many fucking times to stay away from them, didn’t i?” he screams in your face, watching as you flinch with fear. “yeah, you did, but they are my friends, rafe, sarah is my best friend and you tried to kill her? she’s your fucking sister you should love her more than you love me” you say, voice getting higher out of frustration for him. how can he be so naive and cruel?

“her? she’s no sister of mine. that bitch has always been against me” he scoffs, speaking so lowly of his own little sister. “no she hasn’t, rafe!” you try to tell him, but every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie according to his delusions.

“right, whatever.” he rolls his eyes at you and your ‘lies’, but he just doesn’t want to accept the truth. he’s the problem, he turned everyone against himself. “i love you, yeah? i never stopped” he suddenly says, looking at you.

“well i have.” you say, but hearing those words were gut wrenching to him. you crossed the line. he unexpectedly and quickly reaches over, grabbing you by the throat and squeezing his fingers.

“i never wanna hurt you, y/n. you make me do it. i want to love you, but when you’re running off with your little friends behind my back, you make it hard to trust you, yeah?” he explains in his usual manipulative tone.

“rafe…” you force out, feeling as his grip tightens, his nails basically digging into your skin. “can you let me love you like i want to? like i’ve been trying to?” he asks, watching as your face turns redder and redder.

he loves watching you struggle, it was his favorite part of having power over you. it’s like it turns him on to hurt you. “please.. stop…” you struggle to say as he just keeps begging for your love.

“y/n, let me show you how much i really love you. please?” he asks softly, looking at you with adoration as if his own hand isn’t almost causing you to lose consciousness. he was psychotic. “ok.. ok.. yeah.. just let me go” you choke, nodding your head as fast as you can. you didn’t want to agree, but you had to otherwise he wasn’t going to stop.

and who knows what he would’ve done if you had passed out? you’d dread to think. “yeah? atta’ girl. i knew you’d come to terms with me sooner or later” he says, smiling as if he didn’t force the right answer out of you. he lets go of your throat, loving the sound of you gasping for air and regaining your breath.

you wanted to hit him so bad, you wanted to insult him and call him names but most importantly, you didn’t want him to actually kill you. “let’s go somewhere private, hm?” he suggests, like you could say no. you stay silent in his passenger seat, nodding at everything he’s saying, submitting to your fear of him.

he puts the car into gear and begins driving off. he drives five minutes down the road before turning down an off road path which lead to the lake, but he stopped in the secluded path surrounded by more trees, and more darkness.

turning his engine off, he turns to face you. “do you love me?” he asks. you’re terrified to answer. you’d be lying if you said yes, but if you said no, you’d find out. “…yes” you gulp, fearing him deeply. “good girl” he smirks, smelling your fear like a dog could.

he loves it. he loves you being afraid to say something he doesn’t want to hear, that’s the first step to being the perfect girlfriend in his eyes, you always know the right answer.

he turns in his seat to face you, reaching his hand over to your thigh. he rubs it, trailing his hand up and closer to your pussy, but you shift your legs the other way to move his hand away, making him grab your thigh and moving it back to where it was.

“don’t act like you don’t want it. you just said you love me” he leans over, darkly whispering in your ear which sent shivers down your spine. “i.. i do” you lie, not wanting to send him over the edge. he smirks at your words, leaning his head down to your neck to kiss it. you don’t want his touch, but you need it.

“rafe…” you whisper, trying your best not to want it but it’s difficult when he’s kissing your neck and moving his hand up your thigh again, only this time you don’t move your legs when he gets close to your pussy. you’re wearing jeans, so you feel his hand unbuttoning them which made you nervous, but you let it happen anyway.

“what baby?” he whispers, lifting his head from your neck to look at you. “i—” you say, cut off by the feeling of his cold hand slipping into your jeans. you jump at the temperature of his skin, which made him laugh. “come on, just take it” he licks his lips, looking at yours before kissing them. you kiss him back, and eventually start making out with him.

mid kiss, his hand slips into your panties, making you hum a moan. “you like that?” he asks, rubbing circles on your clit before breaking the kiss. “mhm” you hum, but his other hand reaches behind your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back. “use your words, princess” he tells you, his dark eyes staring into yours. “…yes.” you hesitate to say, but you go along with it for your own safety and his sanity.

“hmm.. good” he smirks, letting go of your hair and kissing you again before his hand slid down your pussy, to your hole. you gasp at his sudden movement, but he chuckles at you. “you’re so wet. i’m always turning you on, huh?” he says, opening his mouth and mocking your gasp.

you chuckle too, wanting him to know you’re on the same page. after seconds of his fingers teasing your hole, he slides two of them into you. you gasp, moaning as his fingers fill you up to his knuckles. “so deep..” you moan, tensing up in your seat at his touch.

but it wasn’t long before he had you stripped off and sitting on his lap with the seat pushed all the way back. “fuck” he moans at the sight of your pretty tits, his hands grabbing your ass cheeks.

“if we do this… will you leave me alone after?” you ask, terrified to say but it needed to be said. “yeah, of course, i promise” he says like it’s nothing, like he didn’t even hear those words come out of your mouth. you were expecting a different reaction, but he had a different plan.

you felt like you had to have sex with him one last time for him to be able to move on from you. or so you thought that’s how it would be. “i love you, but if i need to leave for you to be happy, then i will” he says, almost believably.

but that was a lie.

pulling his boxers off allowed his hard dick to spring out, hitting your leg. you both giggle before starting to make out again, where his hands slid from your ass cheeks to your hips, his fingers twirling the sides of your panties before pulling them down and off your feet.

“ride me, princess” he says, both of your warm areas touching. you nod, lifting yourself up and positioning yourself above his cock before his hands roughly gripped your waist, pulling you to sit down on it.

you let out a loud moan of pain and pleasure. “fuuuck” he drags, closing his eyes as he pulled you up and down, choosing the speed and roughness for you. your moans cried out, you didn’t know if it hurt or felt good more.

“i missed you so much. i missed this pussy” he tells you, his hands roaming your naked back as his dick harshly thrusts up into you. “i missed you” you say, knowing you didn’t mean a single word. your horniness and desire to please him took over.

“you’re mine, baby” he tells you, his fingernails digging into your hips, making you cry out. he was so good at pleasing your pussy that you ruled out the pain he caused. “…always” you say, starting to question whether or not he was being honest about leaving you alone.

his pace is rough, he’s fucking you so harshly that you don’t think he’s ever gone this hard on you before. it hurts, but it hurts so good. “ow.. fuck.. rafe” you moan loudly like a porn star. “that’s it, baby” he says, feeling closer and closer to coming each time he thrust up into you.

your legs start to burn and ache, and he can tell by how much your legs are shaking. so he pulls you off of him, and guides you into the back seats where he climbs over after you.

he lays you down on your back, spreading your bodies over the three seats. he positions his cock near your pussy again, before sliding in with no warning. you moan, wrapping your arms around his back and gripping his shoulders. “fuckkk” he moans in your ear, making you much wetter. no matter how much you hate rafe cameron, his moans were your weakness.

the rougher and meaner he got, the more aroused he was. it wasn’t long before he started choking you, and slapping you around. it’s what he does during sex. he loves the power, he loves the dominance he has over you. you allowed it, though, because this was the last time. right?..

minutes later, you you felt him speeding up and becoming more tense, which meant he was gonna finish any second now. you, however, weren’t even close to finishing. it did feel good, but it didn’t change your feelings for him. you can’t come over somebody you hate so much.

“fuck baby.. ‘m gonna cum…” he says, twitching his dick as he empties his load into you. you moan at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up and leaking out after. he slowly pulls out, smirking knowing he’s hiding a huge secret from you.

he snuck into your house a few days ago while you were out with the pogues, and swapped your birth control pills for fake ones. but you had no idea…

it wasn’t until two weeks later when you were throwing up in your toilet, and crying your eyes out when you realized you’d missed your period. “fuck” you say, grabbing an emergency pregnancy test from the cabinet above the sink. you had them hidden in there just in case.

you take the pregnancy test, pacing around your bathroom for five minutes straight, waiting for the results. boom. the alarm you’d set on your phone goes off, five minutes is up. you switch the alarm off and gulp, slowly reaching for the pregnancy test. you pick it up, and gasp when you read the answer.

POSITIVE.

what the fuck are you supposed to do now?…

NOT PROOFREAD. probably some mistakes, but my FIRST smut writing?!?!😩😩 plssssss lmk what y’all think! <333

@cameronluvr

[jerryseinfeldisafurry]

I have to speak my peace about Captain Curly

Warning: mouthwashing spoilers

So, I’ve noticed a lot of people saying the same points that are essentially: “Oh Curly is a piece of shit because he just let his buddy get away with assaulting Anya”

And I am here to argue against this point. So at no point does Curly deny, or tell Anya that what she went through never happened, or anything like that. Usually, when somebody “supports their friend” after said friend commits assault, they will react with disbelief, or just general distrust for the person accusing their friend. I feel like the fact that Anya continuously makes small references to the assault situation around Curly, and the fact she talks and is alone with Captain Curly so often, are indicators that she has not been met with disbelief or distrust on his end.

When a victim receives a bad reaction to telling somebody about their assault, they usually do not bring it up or talk about it with that person after that. They also would not have the same dynamic, the same relaxed mannerisms that Anya has with Curly.

Now, onto the point where people accuse Curly of enabling Jimmy, I also don’t think that’s true. They are stuck on a relatively small ship, with no way out for over a year. They can’t risk hurting or punishing Jimmy, because Curly of all people will know how reactionary and violent Jimmy can be. They can’t kill him, because that’s illegal, and Curly is unfortunately responsible for Jimmy considering he is the Captain of the ship. Aside from the fact that, with the way Pony Express is shown to treat the crew, if they harmed or killed one of their own crew members it’s entirely possible that they would not get paid at all, and all the work and time and energy (and suffering, on Anya’s part) would literally be for nothing. Then they also get tried for murder, and they would have to prove that Jimmy did something wrong, they would have to prove that Jimmy assaulted Anya. After half a year of him being dead, with no physical evidence to prove what he did except a pregnancy that they can’t prove was forced upon her.

Curly is not enabling his friend, and trying to sweep the situation under the rug, he is literally constantly trying to deescalate the situation. Curly doesn’t act like he’s just trying to make the situation disappear. When Anya expresses that she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t even say out right that she doesn’t want to do his evaluation. Yet Curly decides to volunteer despite not really having the experience, and it also not being in his job description. After Anya tells Jimmy she’s pregnant, and she’s scared for her life, Curly goes to try and talk to Jimmy. He tries to get Jimmy to calm down, and to think rationally, he tries to keep Jimmy from acting out. and then Jimmy goes and crashes the entire fucking ship into an asteroid. Even if they wanted to imprison him, there was nowhere to put him. The only places that had locks were the cockpit and medical. We saw what happened when he was in the cock pit alone, and the last place he needs to be is the one place that Anya can really call her own.

When Curly says he’ll talk to Jimmy, that’s not him belittling the situation. He needs to stay calm and reassure Anya that he’s trying to help her. If Curly was immediately like “I’m gonna go kick his ass” or if he insisted on some sort of retaliation against Jimmy, then that would just stress Anya out more. There is no way to keep eyes on Jimmy at all times, and if he faces any punishment over Anya then she knows he will find a way to punish her for it. Aside from the fact that, I think Curly may have done whatever she asked, especially with the way he emphasized he’d do “anything” to help her when she first tells him that she’s pregnant. He informs her that he truly cares about her, her wellbeing is his responsibility.

Anya also seems to be way too forgiving for her own good. Even when she thought Curly tried to kill all of them, all she had to say was that she couldn’t believe that a person’s worst moments make them a monster. If she was willing to forgive what she thought was attempted murder, I’m sure she came up with every excuse in the book for Jimmy. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying she deserved it. She didn’t. What she went through was fucking awful and horrific. But it’s in her nature to forgive people, even when they really don’t fucking deserve it. We don’t even know if she knew she was assaulted the whole time, since there’s a good chance that Jimmy manipulated her into thinking she deserved it/wanted it. It may be possible that she thought she deserved it, and was too ashamed to speak about it openly for a while, with only the feelings of disgust and shame to accompany her.

Let’s also take into consideration that Anya was not the only person Jimmy was abusive to. We saw the way he talked to Curly, especially at the birthday celebration. Jimmy was an abusive dickhead to everyone. The last time Curly tried deescalating the situation before the crash, Jimmy immediately started taking the stuff Curly told him in confidence and using it against him, to make Curly just as miserable as he was. Jimmy turned his own suffering into shared suffering because then he could tell himself that he wasn’t just trying to get away from his own actions, he was trying to HELP his friend, who was also suffering.

My point is, I think too many people are not thinking deeply enough about Curly, as well as the context on the entire situation. They are putting blame on him when he is also a victim of Jimmy. It was literally just an overall shitty situation