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minhosimthings · 10 months

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Prideful

Synopsis: You never thought that Lee Heeseung, the man who had proven you wrong in the subject you were best at, would be fucking you on the classroom floor, but here you were.

Pairings: Heeseung × fem!reader, sort of enemies hate sex, includes Sunoo from Enha, and Soojin

Warnings: Smut with plot in the beginning, MINORS DNI, fluffy in the beginning, mention of food, degradation, praise, fingering, oral (f receiving), sex on the floor, unprotected sex (not for you bubs), rough sex, overstimulation, swearing, Heeseung calls reader princess and doll, open ending my babies have fun with that

A/N: idea came into my brain and I thought I'd forget about it and just added it to my wip list but then I was like NOPE IMMA WRITE THIS SHIT. So this makes my third smut for Heeseung (idk why I'm writing only smut for him) enjoy it y'all

Jane Austen once wrote an entire fanfic about enemies to lovers, slow burn, and she thought no one would notice. Well almost no one. Nothing ever gets out of the eyes and pens of literature majors does it? Especially not out of hardcore Jane Austen fans like yourself.

You must have analysed that godforsaken piece of literature atleast a thousand times since you recieved it as a gift for your birthday. And every single time, you failed to understand how such a love could be possible. I mean come on, a man and woman who hate each other, falling in love with each other? Either Jane Austen must have been a reincarnation of Aphrodite, or a madwoman who still kept faith in love.

Your heart nearly exploded when your professor had assigned a full fledged essay-presentation, costing half your grade on Pride and Prejudice. "Explore your opinion!" She had called out cheerfully, "Tell me what your heart truly feels about this beautiful piece and I'll give you a full half grade and no assignments for the rest of the semester." The class gasped in excitement at her words as you pretended to be interested. Internally, you were groaning. Wasting half of your night to make a presentation about a book you hold no love for? The universe really was against you. You picked your books up dejectedly and walked towards the entrance, shoulders hunched and music at a higher level of noise than it should have been at.

"Oh shit!" You cursed, dropping your books at the sudden interruption. A flurry of blue wool flooded in your face, as you leaned down quickly to pick up your fallen books and phone. "I'm so sorry." You apologised not looking up at whoever you crashed into. "It's alright." A voice responded back, and you looked up to see him. Lee Heeseung. You had seen him a few times in class, heard him actually. With his pristine glasses, and his woolen sweaters, he was the definition of a movie nerd. He was actually smart, you had to admit, always quick to respond to the questions that you had no idea about. Best in the class after you, according to your professor. Although his choice of literature slightly weirded you out. You often spotted him sprawled out under a tree, holding Pride and Prejudice to his nose, deeply engrossed in taking in each word.

"Is that The Neighborhood you're listening to?" Heeseung asked, as he handed you your phone, which he had picked up before you had the chance to. "Do you have an ear for them?" You asked, taking the phone from him. His hands felt soft, like the first snow when you were eight. Heeseung shook his and chuckled. "I'm more of a Arctic Monkeys person." You smiled awkwardly and shuffled your feet. "To each his own then."

"Macbeth." Heeseung said, before you could escape from the conversation. "I'm sorry?" You questioned, confused at his sudden outburst. "That line's from Macbeth." Heeseung sent another smile your way, pushing his glasses up from his nose, "Polonius says it, 'To each his own'." You felt a pang of jealousy hit your chest. You didn't know where that line was from. Of course, what normal person would know the origin of a common idiom?

"Cool." Your laugh was not without a tint of awkwardness. "Well-" Heeseung shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "Bye then." "Bye." You bid each other goodbye and rushed off in opposite directions, not wanting to be stuck in another neverending loop of conversation.

"Don't tell me you actually talked with The Lee Heeseung." Your roommate Soojin laughed, accidentally smearing some turquoise nail polish onto your thigh. You quickly wiped it off with a tissue before frowning at Soojin. "It's not a big deal." You scoffed, having another slice of pizza, "I mean he's just a guy. Kinda nerdy actually"

Soojin burst out laughing again, this time shutting her nail polish close. She gasped for air as she pulled out her phone and showed you a picture of a what looked like a frat party. "Girl-" she got up from her leaning position, "Nerdy is the worst way to describe Lee Heeseung. I'm telling you-" she picked up the last slice of pizza, "-he's the playboy representative of this college."

"Oh come on." You scoffed again, getting up to go to the bathroom, "Stop joking around." Soojin shrugged her shoulders as you disappeared into the bathroom. "Whatever you say."

The next day, you strolled into your favourite cafe with your laptop, headphones, a copy of Pride and Prejudice, money in your pocket, a sketchbook, and a positive mindset. Always need one to write an essay right? You were thankful that it wasn't raining today like it had been for the past few weeks.

The cafe was mostly empty, with a few medical students drinking coffee to their death, as they always did. You walked up to the counter, where you saw your friend Sunoo, working his shift.

"Y/N hey!" He flashed his bright smile at you, putting down the glass he had been cleaning. "Hey sun." You clapped back, leaning in front of the counter, "The usual please." Sunoo nodded his head and started to prepare your drink. "So I've heard something." He put on his mischievous smile, one that he often wore when he had gossip on his fingers. "Please tell me it's not about that girl from Chem again." You sighed, as he put a coffee cup down in front of you. "No it's about you dumbass." Sunoo scoffed, taking the money you handed him, "I heard you bumped into Lee Heeseung." You let out a groan at his words, and quickly grabbed your drink, going off to sit in the corner. "Yah take your change!" Sunoo shouted after you to which you shouted back, "Keep it! Your broke ass needs it anyway!"

You didn't get the chance to see Sunoo giving you the stink eye, as you plopped down on the comfortable couch and opened up your laptop. You had prepared a few opening lines the night before, since you had learnt that doing half of an assignment on the day of the announcement is better than starting the next day. Whoever wrote that theory needs to clarify it to you, but hey never pass up a good study tip right?

Immersed by the clacking of the keyboard keys and the pretty syllables decorating your page, you were completely absent from the world around you. Until, you heard a familiar voice, which broke you out of your hypoxia.

Heeseung.

What was he doing here?, You thought, not realising that you were basically staring at him. He was dressed in full black today, a leather jacket adorning his broad shoulders. A single earing dangled from his right ear. He still had his glasses on, which were fogged up completely, courtesy to the weather outside. Chatting away sonderly to Sunoo, as Sunoo prepared his drink in a way familiar to you, Heeseung caught your eye. He waved joyfully to you, akin to a child waving to their best friend. You waved back, not aware of the face you were currently making.

"Hey!" Heeseung said, sitting down in the chair next to you, with his drink in hand, "Working up on the Pride and Prejudice thing?" There were atleast a million other seats empty in the cafe. Why did he have to sit next to you? You didn't really realise how handsome he was, until he was sitting face to face with you. The mere sunlight coming in from the windows seemed to illuminate his face well. "Oh yeah I am." You replied, shooting him a smile, "Same thing?" You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going. Heeseung smiled jovially at you and propped his laptop open. "Yep." He replied and glued his eyes to the screen as you went back to your own work. "The Neighborhood again?" He raised an eyebrow, peeking at your open Spotify. You smiled gently and replied, "Arctic Monkeys?" As if ticking a correct answer, Heeseung laughed and showed you his phone where 'Arabella' was playing. A pretty album cover, you thought, subtle and sleek. "To each his own then?" Heeseung said. You nodded and smiled in response, before dropping your head back down to your laptop.

An hour must have passed like this, both of you hypnotised in writing and editing, and downing the refills of coffee Sunoo was providing you with. You stole tiny glances at Heeseung from time to time. Concentration was a good face on him, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands typing away furiously at the keyboard. He didn't talk to you at all, except for the initial hey and hello. But something about the way he spoke to you in the beginning, about the way he asked if you had a pen, and about the way he said 'Hey you have an eyelash on your nose' made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

Heeseung left before you did and before leaving he had extended a hand out to you. "May the best essay win." He spoke, shaking your hand and showing you his smile. God he never stopped smiling did he? His hand was soft, as was his grip on yours. It felt like how your father would hold your hand when you were little on the crosswalk.

"Girl just ask him out." Sunoo called after you as you were about to leave, "The tension between both of you back there was almost poetic." Even though you laughed at Sunoo's quip, and denied the offer, a part of your mind lingered on Sunoo's words and the way Heeseung spoke to you that afternoon.

The days leading upto the hour of the presentation went fast. Too fast almost. Your mind went over your short conversation with Heeseung atleast a million times, sometimes distracting you from typing. You didn't know where all the red bull cans littered across your room came from, but you remember where you threw every single one of them and why. The presentation was perfect. It must have been checked by your eyes atleast a hundred times. Finally, a time was coming when you would be able to express your true feeling about it. Despise and Trouble ran through your veins as you walked up to the board as your professor called on you to present. The class seemed to hold a tight breath to themselves. Everyone knew you, teacher's pet, best at English, known for using the most difficult metaphores in her essays yet having a straightforward point.

"Shall I begin?" You asked your professor who gave a curt nod and leaned back in her chair, an expectant smile plastered on her face. You returned the smile and turned to your classmates, who seemed most interested in your essay.

"Well to begin with, as one does-" humor was always the best way to start off speeches, which was shown by the subtle laughter of the students, "-I would like to say that Pride and Prejudice may be one of the most despised books I have sitting in my bookcase." You heard gasps around the room as everyone started murmerring. Your professor leaned forward in her chair, her mouth pressed tightly to form a thin line. That's good, you thought, a good way to break into their corneas.

"While most people would disagree with me upon this apparent piece of art, I truly believe that this sort of a romance is highly impossible. And no-dont tell me that this is fiction and in the fictious worlds you can quote unquote 'do whatever you want'." The audience held their breaths back as you continued with your rant. Your professor was watching it all with a smile on her face, knowing that she couldn't disagree with you. After all, you had to present your own opinions no matter how opposite they were to everyone else's.

"Well-" you professor stood up from her chair, as you finished your presentation. It had been a 25 minute rant about the book and by now everyone seemed to be meekly looking at their own essays. "That was brilliant Y/N. Truly brilliant." You professor clapped you on the back, "I must say, you have a flair for arguing in a way no one can find counter-attacks. I wonder why you did not choose law as your major?"

"Because there is another argument to be discussed here."

A cold voice rang through the room, as you were about to laugh at the professor's quip. You spun around on your shoes to face the culprit.

Lee Heeseung.

"Heeseung!" Your professor delightfully responded clapping her hands together, "Well why don't you tell us your opinion then? And we'll see if Y/N can fire back." She sat in her chair again, looking positively delighted at the forthcoming, "A battle of the best wits perhaps!"

Heeseung smiled widely and stepped forward to where you were sitting, plopping down on the opposite chair. Your professor had always kept two chairs facing each other in front of her class, for debates, her reason sounded. And now, as you sat in front of Heeseung and his stupidly handsome smirk, you swore you were going to bring him down.

"First of firsts-" Heeseung began, as everyone's attention caught on you. "-your opinion is speaking from a highly biased perspective." "How so?" You fired back, before he could even breathe, "I had already stated in the beginning, about how this cannot be on a biased perspective, since fiction based in actual words cannot be this animated." Heeseung smiled again, which threw you off track a bit. God he's handsome, you thought, too handsome....

"Of course but must I remind you, that this book was perhaps the first out of many to start with the trope of enemies to lovers?" Why were his eyes like galaxies?, "Jane Austen invented an entire trope, which still remains a genius scan of literature to this day. How could you say it's too animated?"

"Yes but-"

"Furthermore-" Heeseung continued, not giving you the chance to breathe, "inventing new tropes does not break this 'law of literature' as you say. Since there was no law of literature to begin with. So please Miss Y/N-" he leaned forward, looking at you with dangerous eyes, "-don't you dare say that Pride and Prejudice is a worthless piece of literature just because it does not have proof of poetry."

The class let out a breath as you sat frozen in your seat. Someone actually breaking your argument was a first for you.

God, his hair. His pretty curly hair.

You didn't realise how long you'd been staring at Heeseung with widened eyes until your professor clapped her hands together again.

"Well then!" She said cheerfully, effectively breaking you out of your stupor, "I believe this goes for grading both of you an A+. Half of your grade is filled you two! Congratulations!" The class broke out into applause as you thanked her and awkwardly shook hands with Heeseung as the bell rang loudly. "Well class I'll be seeing you next time!" Your professor announced, as everyone started filing out. "Oh Y/N, Heeseung a moment please?"

You stopped your feet from stepping out the door and immediately spun around, marching off towards your professor, seeing Heeseung doing the same. "Yes Professor Kim?" Heeseung responded with those stupid puppy eyes of his before you could. Professor Kim smiled gently at both of you, before pulling out her tablet.

"I need a bit of help from both of you. It'll be sort of a favour to you too." She handed you the tablet, which had a sort of letter open on it. Heeseung leaned from behind you, and put his chin on your shoulder, making your stomach feel clammy. He smelled good too, you thought, like fresh paper.

"An event is being hosted by our Dean for all majors." Professor Kim smiled, "Sort of a career booster you could say. We were instructed to pick two students from our classes to have the assignment of checking essays, and documentations and whatnot pertaining to their majors."

"And you chose to pick us Ma'am? I'm flattered." Heeseung chuckled, as Professor Kim laughed to his quip. "Well you two are my best students." She drawled, "So the assignment I'm giving you is-" she pulled out a huge stack of papers from beneath her desk. It shocked you how quickly they appeared out of nowhere, like magic. "-these are all essays collected by last year's class. I want you to go through them, give them a good critic, and grade them according to you. You will personally grade each one, taking each other's help of course,since it's a group project. And it will lend you a helping hand since you'll be getting a certificate which you can use to get into any company you'd like!"

You and Heeseung glanced at each other and we're relieved to see the same excited expression face back at them. This was a rare opportunity, a diamond of the first water you'd say. And you had to grab it, even If that meant it was with a person you despised with your entire being.

"I'll do it Professor!" You replied positively to which Heeseung also nodded frantically as if to say the same thing. "Great!" Professor Kim clapped her hands together again, "Oh and one rule is you two have to work together in this classroom. Since the Dean wants to provide you with an opportunity to see how workplace relationships doon out."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard her words. You, working with Heeseung in an empty classroom? You would rather have praised Pride and Prejudice.

"Here, the keys." Professor Kim handed you and Heeseung a pair of keys, "You can work in the evening if you want. But make sure to complete it as soon as you can alright? Oh and you can skip classes if you want to do this first, since the Dean is prioritising this before anything else." You nodded in response to her instructions and bowed her goodbye as you and Heeseung walked out.

"So-" Heeseung stuffed his hands in his pockets, "You wanna work on this shit tonight?" "Unless you have any other appointments, sure we can work on it tonight." You responded, coldly, not looking at him in the eye. "Alright then." Heeseung scoffed, "Meet you here at 8?" "Alright." The end of your conversation came a little too fast, you thought, but you couldn't stand looking into his pretty little eyes and talking to him, as if he didn't just embarrass you infront of your entire class a few minutes ago. "Y/N wait!" Heeseung called, running up to you, as you were about to exit the building. "What?" You spun around to face him. "Shouldn't we exchange numbers first?" Heeseung handed you his phone, which had his contact list open. "Why? So you can take me out on a date later?" You shot at him. A smirk tugged on the corner of Heeseung lips, but he resisted, not wanting to anger you more. You looked cute when you were angry in his opinion. "No. Maybe incase you were murdered by someone on the way here, I can call you and scold you on why tardiness is a childish thing to do." Heeseung joked. You smiled sarcastically at him as you handed him his phone back, having typed in your number. "Eight o'clock princess don't you forget now."

Tick tock tick. The clock's quiet sons echoed through the empty class. 'Don't forget.' you scoffed, 'And he's the one who's late.' The time on your watch sounded 8:30 and yet Heeseung wasn't here. You had given up waiting for him, and started on the assignment yourself, already finishing two of the army of papers. You were a hard critic, and it clearly showed in the way you were seeping your eyes through the ink.

"Soojin he's late! I can't come back now!" Your roommate had called you, in the midst of your third paper, complaining about a cockroach in the room. "Just call your boyfriend, and don't be such a pussy it won't hurt you." You scoffed at Soojin, whose scared whimpers were heard clearly through the phone.

"How's the checking going?" Soojin asked, having seemingly calmed down. You groaned and leaned back in your chair, wincing at the crack of your backbone. Your back must have become stiff from the amount of time you had been sitting in that chair. You felt pity for your professors for the first time, having finally been in their shoes.

"Heeseung's not here yet and I'm literally so fed up right now." You complained to Soojin, "That handsome bastard told me not to be late, and now look where I am! Asshole seriously." "He'll turn up, cool down Y/N." Soojin soothed you. You heard a sound of crashing in the background and stifled a laugh, assuming that Soojin must have miraculously jumped from one bed to the other. "I told you he's a playboy." Soojin panted through the phone, "Maybe he's busy fucking some poor girl in his frat house." You rolled your eyes at her statement.

"Please." You scoffed, "He couldn't fuck a girl if he wanted to, with the tiny ass cock he has." Soojin let out a raucous laugh from the other side of the phone. "How the fuck do you know he has a tiny cock?" She chuckled. "Intuition baby." You responded, "And my intuition is never wrong."

"Like how it was on the day of our debate?"

A familiar voice again. But this time, the warmth in it wasn't present. You whipped your head around to the door, where Heeseung stood, leaning against the door and smirking. "Soojin I'll call you back." You cut the call, before Soojin could respond.

"Hey." You called out to Heeseung. "Hey." Heeseung shot back, sitting down on the chair in front of you, spreading his legs wide. An involuntary gulp went through your throat. "What were you saying princess?" He leaned forward, his shirt dropping down slightly, "I have a tiny what now?" The dim lighting of the room, made his eyes look dark, and the leather of his black jacket, gleam more. "I- I wasn't saying anything Heeseung." You responded, turning your chair back to the desk, warmth coming up on your cheeks. Heeseung cocked his head to the side and smirked at your flustered state.

"Really princess?" He smirked, edging closer to you. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils again. His glasses dropped on his nose, and he hadn't even bother to push them back up. "Heeseung just get to work." You sternly responded, trying to keep your cool. How could you though? When he was so close to you, lips almost touching your ear. "For you information-" Heeseung spoke, turning your attention away from the paper you were working on, "-I had a friend who needed a lift to his dorm, so I ran a little late. But you couldn't wait for me could you princess?" He smirked, laying his hand on top of yours, "Just couldn't wait to critique all those papers like the good girl you are." "He-Heeseung." "Shh don't." Heeseung shushed you, "You want to see how tiny of a cock I really have then hmm?"

"Heeseung we shouldn't." You hesitated, feeling your legs warm up. "No one's gonna know, as long as you don't make a noise alright?" He kissed your neck gently, turning your figure to his, still sitting in the chair. "Oh princess, already wet for me?" He chuckled, toying with the button of your shirt. "Heeseung-" you moaned out, quickly unbuttoning your shirt, as Heeseung took off his jacket and threw it on the desk. You pulled back slightly as your mind came to its proper senses. "Where are you going doll?" Heeseung questioned, hands resting on your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, "Don't worry princess, no one's gonna know."

Heeseung brings his lips down to yours in an instant, wasting no time. You gasp at his sudden actions and he takes advantage of that by entering his tongue into your mouth. You grab at his shoulders while he cups your jaw with both of his hands. Your hands reach his hair, softly tugging at the root and you hear him whine. Heeseung sucks on your bottom lip, catching it between his teeth and pulling it back to look at you. You look up at him and he takes your face in his hands.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” Heeseung asks in a teasing tone as he looks down at you. You could feel the throb in his pants press against your legs as you whimper. “Hee please.” You whine, squirming as he places a kiss between your breasts. Heeseung runs his hands up and down the sides of your body. If he was going to fuck you on the classroom floor right there and then, you were going to let him.

“Oh, you're feeling extra polite today huh? Please, Heeseung.” Heeseung mocks you with a tiny laugh. You groan in embarrassment and hide your face with your hands. Heeseung just lets out another laugh and wraps his hands around your wrists, prying them away from your face. He transfers both of your wrists to one hand, holding them over your head as he uses his other hand to trail his fingers down your body.

“Don’t hide your pretty face now, princess.” Heeseung says nonchalantly as he dips a hand inside your leggings and panties to feel your dripping cunt. His glasses were beginning to fog up slightly as he whipped them off of his face, setting them down on the desk. You clench around nothing when you feel his middle finger dip into your wetness and bring it up to your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. You moan softly as Heeseung teases your clit, never taking his eyes off of your face.

Heeseung begins to rub your clit faster, and you buck your hips up into his fingers. You hear him laugh at your eagerness and he presses soft kisses into your neck. Heeseung takes his fingers off of your clit and he snaps the waistband of your trousers against your pelvis.

“Dirty girl. Never thought you'd be like this.” Heeseung says with a smirk and you dumbly nod your head. The sounds of your heavy breathing and your pussy squelching around his fingers make your legs begin to shake.

Heeseung spits on your cunt to lubricate it even more, and that's what makes you come undone. Your cunt clenches around his fingers, sucking them in as he fingers you through your orgasm.

Heeseung takes his time kissing down your body, letting your need and desperation build by the second. He tugs one nipple and then the other into his mouth, suckling at the perky nubs and massaging your areola between his lips. Your hips are trembling with anticipation, the space between your legs aching to feel Heeseung's kiss.

Stars hover over you, or at least, that’s how it feels. Your eyes are closed, awareness cut off to the world around you except the place Heeseung's face is buried. He devours your cunt like a man starved, swallowing you whole. Heeseung doesn’t come up for air; he doesn’t need to, because all he breathes is you. Your back is arched and arms stretched forward, fingers clutching Heeseung’s hair in fistfuls.

Your thighs are shaking, reflexively clamping around Heeseung's’s face. He keeps forcing them open, demanding full access to your cunt, even as you buck and claw and convulse. Your mouth hangs open in a stupor; a thin line of drool trickles down your cheek and connects to the cold floor beneath you.

Heeseung laps at your slit like he’s never tasted you before, like he never will again. His tongue pads between your lips, upward strokes that end with the tip of his tongue flicking your clit with a firm intensity that has you reeling. Tugging at his hair, trying not to scream his name incoherently, you ride out the longest orgasm you’ve ever had. Tears burn the corners of your eyes, stars bursting in the black sky of your vision. Heeseung doesn’t stop licking your cunt till you release his hair.

“M’gonna fuck you now, okay?” Heeseung says sweetly and you nod your head. He runs his hard cock through your folds, and he catches your clit, making you jerk a little. Heeseung slowly begins to push himself into you and you throw your head back against the hard material of the desk.

“Fuck, knew you’d be tight when I felt you around my fingers.” Heeseung grits out, and he continues to push himself into you until he bottoms out. He starts to move at a slow pace, and he whines when you beg him to move faster. “Fucking whore. Bet you think about me fucking you in class don't you?” Heeseung spits out as he pushes himself harder and deeper into your sloppy cunt. You moan at his words, and you try to reply but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You cry out, and you clench around Heeseung's fat cock.

“ Cum for me princess.” Heeseung. moans out, fucking into you so deep, a ring of your cum and his has formed at the base of his cock. You run your fingers through his hair, harshly tugging on it as you come undone at his expense. Heeseung buries his face into your neck as he cums, sucking at your pulse point. You feel his cum shoot into you and it only prolongs your own orgasm.

After a couple minutes of you two catching your breath, Heeseung takes his face out of your neck and plops down in the chair, pulling you onto his lap. You sit there, dazed for a few seconds, burrowing your head in his chest, his heartbeat reminding you where you were.

"Well that was a whirlwind of emotions." He says at last, when you start to stir from your hypnosis, "You good doll?" You nod slightly and feel Heeseung's arms wrap around you, putting you safely down on the chair, as he put his clothes back on, slowly picking up yours as well.

"Heeseung the assignments." You panic, as he puts your shirt back on you. "It's alright princess." He coos at you, wrapping an arm around your waist, "We can do that in the morning. Let's get you home." He guides you slowly out the door. "So-" he smirks, locking the classroom with his key "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

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seungsuki · 2 months

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special grade- returning to japan only to see new students! (gn!reader)

warning: none

note: i saw this somewhere in my inbox and wrote it. extra long since i was away from writing. enjoy! (also i'm playing with colours.. what do we think?)

“you better have a good reason for bringing us all here!”

nobara yelled at the white-haired teacher. gojo satoru laughed and threw his arm around yuji for support. he took his time to gather all of his students to the open training grounds of the school. even yuuta okkotsu was present, arriving back from his long trip

“yahoo! gather gather! i have an announcement~!”, gojo called out to his students who groaned at his excitement

“today, you guys will meet one of my oldest student! your senior and my first ever student!”, gojo cheered

an awkward silence followed. everybody looked at the blindfolded sorcerer in confusion. a senior? everybody thought the second years were the seniors but it seemed like there was someone else who was taught by gojo satoru.

“another student before us? you sure you’re not making things up?”, maki questioned

“how dare you accuse me of such things! tell them yuuta!”, gojo pointed

“me?? i don’t know who you’re talking about! is it the person in the picture albums?”, yuuta muttered quickly

he was startled by the sudden ask. how was he supposed to answer? he never met you in person. he’d seen an entire album of you in his teacher's drawer but that’s about it!

“salmon”, inumaki patted his friend

yuji quickly started asking questions about you. he was the most excited since you were the first student of one of his favourite teachers, nobara was held back by megumi- she wanted to give gojo a good punch. the second years watched and discussed amongst themselves

it seems everyone failed to notice you walking near them. you quietly stood atop the stair path and watched the entire act. it was funny seeing how worked up everyone was. you decided to make your presence known by taking the first step on the stairs.

in an instant, everybody dropped what they were doing. they could feel an enormous wave of curse energy nearby. maki and yuuta gripped their weapons while inumaki had his hand on his zipper. panda stood closer to the first years in case something happened

“satoru”

you called out and everybody turned their heads towards you. giving a small wave, you locked your eyes with your blindfolded teacher who let go of yuji. congrats, you managed to get everybody’s attention with your grand entrance

“[name]! my child!”, gojo skipped over to you

he pulled you into an embrace you missed for so long. your trembling figure calmed down to the touch of your old teacher, your so-called ‘father’ figure.

“it’s nice meeting you again satoru”, you whispered as he pulled you close and practically lifted you up

“you should visit more often!”

once satisfied with the hug, he put you down and turned to his confused students. gojo added an awkward cough before starting his flashy introductions he always enjoyed using

“introducing the prodigy! the genius [name][lastname]! winning the best-looking poll for 4 years straight! that’s the double star special grade for you!”, you swore you saw imaginary party poppers for a hot minute

“i’m not even that great but it’s lovely to meet all of you”, you brushed off the comment and bowed to the students in front

“yuuta my boy! why don’t you show [name] around~? special grades can chat away!”, gojo said pushing towards the timid boy

“s-sure gojo-sensei”, yuuta stammered seeing you up so close

“well tour guide, lead the way”, you smiled at him

you took it upon yourself and casually pulled him away from everyone. gojo snickered watching yuuta being dragged away sending worried looks to his friends who only shooed him away

“ah man i was going to ask [name]-senpai so many things”, yuji pouted seeing you disappear

yuuta okkotsu was a decent person to talk to unless you remove the constant stumbling of words or how he’s practically unable to look you in the eyes. you brought up how gojo talked highly about him and his face turned red. he stopped in his tracks and simply malfunctioned in front of you. did you break him?

the poor boy somewhat pulled himself together before you ruined him again by grabbing his hand. you spotted a pond and wanted to take a closer look. yuuta placed his free hand to cover his mouth in hopes you didn’t notice how quickly his heart was beating

“this is golden”, maki snickered from afar taking pictures

“i told you this isn’t a good idea”, panda groaned watching the duo afar interact

“okaka”

by the end of the day, you both ended up at the field again and watched nobara kicking yuji for dropping one of her bags while megumi looked done with the whole thing. both of you settle to sit on the stairs and just watch, despite yuuta eventually stepping in

yuji reached to you and began asking your ears off. megumi even seemed interested while you could see the first years walking your way from afar.

“my favourite students are having such a great time without me! their handsome teacher!”, gojo shouted from afar

as if the chaos was any less, gojo invited himself and it felt like a night market had taken place. you felt happy being in the small circle. hearing so many people and seeing different faces was refreshing. it had been a while after all

“satoru seems like i have to leave”, you sighed feeling your phone ring and knowing what it meant

“so soon?”, yuuta asked

“there is someone else i'm thinking of seeing. i’ll have you show me his resting place later! for now, the higher-ups are calling”, you said and stood up looking at gojo

“ah.. him. got it [name]! make sure to give the old farts a funny joke!”, gojo jokes

“why don’t you walk the special grade there lover boy?”, maki teased the black-haired sorcerer watching you leave the group

“l-lover boy??”, yuuta whispered and yelled

“never seen you so flustered.. got something to tell us?”, maki continued poking fun as yuuta watched everyone gather near him with a sinister look.. this was going to be a long day

336 notes · View notes

capslocked · 11 months

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words.

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity.

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers.

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth.

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this.

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail.

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-"

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering -

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

(There's got so much on her mind.

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

#hyeju smut #loona smut #loona hyeju smut #loossemble smut #loossemble hyeju smut #olivia hye smut #loona olivia hye smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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changisworld · 5 months

Text

“Are you being serious?”

Fuckboy!hyunjin x reader

Word count;8,001

Summary: You & Hyunjin are finally moving into a positive direction, finals are now here though so you are both trying to focus on that, meaning you both can’t spend so much time with each other unless you both want to go insane. You tell your lecturer how well your assignments are going & he gets the bright idea to let you tutor someone in your class who is struggling a lot & is in desperate need of help… that being Hyunjins friend, Han Jisung.

18+, MDNI, SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT.

main masterlist here

part 1 here & part 2 here

ALL WARNINGS: Jealous Hyunjin, Jealous reader, Possessive Hyunjin, voyeurism??, recording, spit, creampie, fingering, oral(m rec), body worship, PIV, unprotected sex, marking, begging, dirty talk, praise, angst & fluff, crying after sex, brief aftercare (more happens off screen), soft hyunjin

-> reader is described as Hyunjins girlfriend & 'she/her' pronouns are used a few times but its brief<3

->This isn’t proofread so if there’s any errors i apologise mwah x

In the month running up to finals, you have been absolutely drowned in assessments & of course you need to pass, so for that reason, you n Hyunjin haven't spent as much time together. You do both study together every once in a while but you work a lot better on your own & he respects that, leaving you to it as he studies in his own free time.

You have both been doing well in the sense your feelings have grown for one another but college is still the same, Hyunjin still being the bubbly person, sitting with his large group of friends while you sit further at the back, but to give him credit he does openly choose to work with you for random partner tasks (which half of the girls in the same course a you now resent you for) & he brings you a drink at least once a day.

You've just submitted one of your last essays (which you're proud of of course) & now you can relax a whole lot more than you were before... until your lecturer asks you if you would like an extra few credits.

You of course say yes, knowing it will definitely help if for some reason you get marks taken off for your other grades, not thinking it would be too hard to complete, that is until he tell you what you need to do.

"Jisung has been really struggling y/n, you can really help him & I know you can since you've never had below a ninety. Don't feel pressured please, but I'm sure he would really appreciate it." He says to you, giving you a pleading look.

You sigh before just nodding your head, not wanting to let your professor down, but also don't want someone in your class to fail simply because you couldn't be bothered to help him.

You know he's really good friends with Hyunjin, him mentioning a few times & they have always sat beside one another, loving to piss off everyone around them. You know he doesn't take anything too seriously but you would feel more guilty if you didn't at least try.

"Thank you y/n. I'll be sure to tell him when I next speak to him one on one. I'll see you tomorrow & I'll have him come talk to you, if he gives you a hard time though by being an idiot, don't be afraid to stop helping him, you're not being forced." He says to you in a cheery voice as he fixes his papers, messy all over his desk. You say your goodnights to each other & you leave the building, making the short journey home.

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You get home & of course Hyunjin is already waiting for you, Tuesdays being the one day a week you promises you would spend time together, regardless of the busy schedules.

"Took you long enough, thought you had fell asleep in the damn hall. What was it he was talking to you about? I'd rather swallow a whole potato in one go than waste my time talking to that guy outside of hours, that guy hates me." Hyunjin questions, not looking up at you for more than a second as he stirs the pasta he is cooking for the both of you.

" He hates you because you made that mans hair go grey with the stress you've causes him n trust me, I almost did, we were talking about how I'm preparing for finals, he also asked me to help one of your friends with a whole lot of it." you sigh as you kick your shoes off & putting your bag on the coat peg hung up on the wall, on the tiny bit of free space that Hyunjins multiple jackets & hoodies now clogging up.

"Really? wait taste this, n who is it? Half my friends are dumbasses so you've got your work cut out, good luck to ya." Hyunjin jokes as he holds up the wooden spoon to your lips, his other hand underneath the spoon to catch any droplets.

You taste it n let out a hum of approval which makes him smile before turning around to continue stirring a few more times before going into your cupboard to grab two plates. "Your friend Jisung! I'm surprised he asked me out of all people, I've only had one actual conversation with him n that was during freshers, I only remember because he was wearing those glasses of his & kept bursting out into song randomly." you chuckle as you recall the memory, getting you both a glass before going into your fridge to grab the bottle of prosecco you bought yesterday just for this occasion.

Hyunjin stops his movement for a second before replying with a 'mhmm' & you don't think too much of it, grating some cheese before putting it on the coffee table in your living room rambling about random stuff, but his mind doesn't move. "So about Jisung, did you say yeah to helping him?" he asks, setting both of your plates down on the small table before grabbing two cushions off your couch n placing them on the floor, patting it for you to sit down next to him.

"Yeah, I agreed because I've only got a few more things to do n I'll be finished, I'd feel guilty for saying no, I can't let him just fail the entire course because I couldn't be bothered you know? If what you're worried about is that I won't have time for you, you're wrong, I'll still be seeing you on Tuesdays regardless." You reply in an your usual tone, giving Hyunjin a peck on the cheek as you thank him for the pasta before picking up your fork & taking a bite.

"Jisung.. Isn't someone you wanna try teach, It's a waste of your time, you should probably pass on the offer. You should help me! I'm sooo stuck on the power point." he responds, his voice monotone, trying to hide how pissed he actually is.

"Hyune, we both know you're not struggling, you only have like two more things to do so stop being silly, n besides, I get a few extra credits if I do it so it will be worth it." you say after swallowing a bite, looking at him & that's when you realise his body language, completely giving away the fact he is now in a sulk as he purses his lips at what you say, not verbally replying to you.

"Hyunjin, what's up with you, hmm? You were so happy when I got home, is something bothering you?" you ask him, putting your fork down. "It's just.. Jisung is just gonna try get in your pants y/n. I know what he's like, if he actually gave a fuck about this grade, he woulda tried way before now, he has a music career now so he doesn't even need college." he says, pointing his fork at you & swaying it around as he speaks, his voice serious despite him trying to sound unbothered.

You just look at Hyunjin, honestly confused on where this attitude has came from. "Just because he might have another career once he leaves, doesn't mean he doesn't wanna pass, Hyune. He won't 'get in my pants' I don't even know him or anything about him apart from what you've told me." a tinge of annoyance in your voice now, not at all liking what he has to say.

"Alright." he mumbles as he begins eating, not wanting to discuss it further so you ignore it, moving onto a different conversation, which makes his mood slightly better than it was before.

Hyunjin leaves an hour or so later, after helping you wash up & cuddling with you until you were dozing off. You give him a sheet of notes you had written earlier in that day just for him to help him with his own essays, changing the wording a whole bunch so he wouldn't accidentally write something similar to you have done, which he can't help but blush at the thoughtfulness. He leaves your apartment in the same mood when you first came home earlier on.

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You're walking to your morning class after grabbing a drink from the cafeteria when you hear someone calling your name from behind you over the music of your headphones, you turn around to see Jisung being the reason your name is being said, his dorky little smile looking back at you as he walks up to you.

"Hi y/n, in case you didn't know but I'm Jisung n I just wanna say thank you for helping me with all of this, means loads to me." he says, giving you an awkward chuckle as his hand rubs against the nape of his neck.

"Don't worry about it, just don't make it a waste of my time, I still need to do loads of my own stuff so I won't be waiting around for you." responding in a cold tone as you put your headphones on again before walking to your class.

You take your own unofficial seat & just go on your phone, not paying much attention to the things going on around you, blocking out the multiple conversations going on around you.

You look down to the right corner of the auditorium & notice Hyunjin isn't sitting in his own usual spot.

You; Where r u? u okay? Hyune<3: yea, just slept in lol, just take pics of what u write n i can use that, ill probs be in after break

You begin texting a response when the chair next to you is pulled out & someone sits beside you, you look to your left & Han is smiling at you, pulling his books out of his bag & placing them on the desk.

"Sir told me to come n sit beside you since he is helping yuna right now n he doesn't have time to re-explain it all to me. You still okay to help me, right?" He blurts out, looking at you with his boba eyes, you just nod your head & he smiles.

Jisung begins to show you where he's at on each part of the assessments he needs to do & shows you the very few notes he has actually been bothered to write down.

"You've only wrote this..? for an entire years worth of work this is all you have to help you?" yo snort as you hand back his notepad, your eyebrows raised. "I thought it wouldn't be this intense!" he responds, his voice whiney.

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You spend the next hour roughly explaining how to do the main parts of everything & you were writing down a few things for him since you realise he is a painfully slow writer, but you choose to hold your tongue since you think he is actually listening since he is actually asking you a question ever so often.

The time hits quarter past eleven so you grab your little blue money purse before standing up to leave for your break when Jisung moves his chair out so you can't leave. "Y/n, could I get your number or something? so I can text you.. about the work! of course." Han asks you as he stands up to face you fully.

"Awk yeah that would make sense, alright." you take one of your pens off the desk & open the cap before grabbing Jisungs hand before you write your number on it & then squeezing yourself past him, walking up the rest of the stairs to leave but he runs up to you again to begin walking with..well, behind you, ignoring his friends at the other end of the room shouting his name.

"Thanking you y/nnie, I can call you y/nnie right? anyways what's your plans for after college hours? Do you have a job you gotta get to? Any sorta clubs? I get the vibe you definitely are a part of... an art class. I woulda said book club but I feel as if that's too basi-" "You talk so much, holy shit. My plan is to finish what I need to finish tonight or tomorrow so I'll have time to actually help you" you cut off, rolling your eyes as you begin walking one of the common area benches, Jisung still trailing behind you.

You sit down & Jisung settles himself beside you, smiling at his friends whenever they walk past, talking your ear off as you just stare at him, not paying attention.

A minute later, You turn away from Jisung & lean your head against the wall in annoyance , Jisung now talking about how he lived in Malesia & almost got eaten by an alligator when your eyes scan the area & that's when you notice Hyunjin strolling towards you. You lean back upright & smile n wave at him & he smiles back, until Han pops his head out from behind you to see who you're waving at, your body no longer covering him from the way you're both sitting.

Hyunjin reaches you but doesn't sit down, instead standing in front of both of you. "Heya y/n, hi jisung, what you both talking about." Hyunjin says in a weird tone of voice, sounding slightly off standish. "Couldn't tell ya, sir didn't really go over anything new so I didn't write anything down to give you, he was just answering others questions, come sit." you say as you pat the spot beside you but he doesn't budge, feet staying glued to the floor, hi eyes moving to now look at the man sitting beside you.

"So if he was answering questions all day, why'd you not just ask him for help on what to do? Why are you putting more on y/ns plate?" Hyunjin spits to jisung, his facial expressions scarily neutral. "Because he would spend an entire day explaining it to me! I asked y/n a million times if it's fine n it's fine! y/n doesn't mind it." Han whines back, throwing his hands around & that's when Hyunjin notices your number drawn onto his hand.

Hyunjin looks at it then back at the both of you before scoffing. "Point is, you don't give a fuck about passing, I'm not stupid. I'll see you later." he speaks in the same cold tone, tapping your head condescendingly before walking away & down the hall out of sight.

"What the hell is his problem, he has such an attitude." you murur, mostly to yourself but Jisung responds anyway. "dunno, maybe stress." feigning innocence.

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Hyunjin walks into class, blood boiling. He sits on the opposite side than he usually does & puts his headphones on, basically throwing the items in his bag onto his desk before logging into his computer & pulling up his word document.

He doesn't look up at any of the noise around him, other students for some reason spending their break in the same room they've been sitting in for four hours now until someone taps his head before pulling his headphones off his head.

"Nice song, what's it called?" Lisa chimes as Hyunjin turns around, relaxing when he sees it's just her & not a random person trying to piss him off. "You're still on your essay? y/n handed hers in already, didn't your little girlfriend feel like helping you out?" she remarks, sitting on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs while she looks down at him.

"y/n.. isn't my 'girlfriend' so to speak n anyways, we both agreed to do it on our own since y/n concentrates better that way n i've learned that so do I, so if you could leave Lisa i'd like that." he responds, his tone sounding more rude than he intended.

"Who pissed in your cereal Hyunjin, jeez. That sucks, I'd love for you to help me, I'm further behind than I wanted to be, can I borrow your notes at least? & you sure y/n works better on her own? She was helping Jisungie a wholeeee bunch earlier." she speaks back, sweet toned, the smile not wiping off her face for even a second, picking up his notepad & flicking through it.

"Mhmm, just take it n give it back at the end of the day. I told y/n helping Jisung is a waste of time but sir n Jisung both wormed their way into her brain knowing she would feel too guilty for saying no, she didn't listen to me, she's too kind." he replies, not bothering to look up at Lisa despite feeling her eyes almost burning two holes into his side profile.

"Clearly not too kind if she can't listening to her own boyfriendddd" she teases, ruffling up his hair. "I told you, we aren't officially together, you taking my notes or no? I have stuff to do Lisa." he snarks as he finally actually looks up at her as she jumps off the desk, jotter in hand.

"I know, just wanted to hear you confirm the fact. I would ask you to send me the notes but you've blocked my number, y/n has you so bitched, didn't think I'd see the day." Hyunjin just rolls his eyes as Lisa says this but he sees you & Jisung walking back into the room, six or seven levels above & he gets an idea.

He rolls his chai out, blocking Lisas path as he looks up at her, a puzzled look on her face. "If you say please, I'll think about unblocking youuu." he taunts, his pretty smile showing on his face. Lisa looks up at you in your usual seat, noticing your quick glances down back at them, trying to not make it too obvious before looking back down at Hyunjin. "Pretty please, Jinnie?" she responds, battering her eyelashes as she ruffles his hair again.

He chuckles before moving out of the way, letting her past. As she leaves, he murmurs a 'next joke, fuck that' to himself, internally cringing at the conversation between them before pressing play on his spotify again & doing his work.

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The day finally ends & you are quick to get out of the room, not being surprised if steam was coming out of your ears with how pissed you are. You noticed Lisa & Hyunjin speaking & you were unable to concentrate from that moment on. 'Why was she touching him?' 'Why was he flirting with her?' 'what a fucking dick' keep bursting into your mind & you honestly want to punch them both in the face.

Hyunjin gets his notepad back from Lisa & walks away without saying much of anything to her, trying to catch up to someone in particular... Jisung.

He knows his schedule like the back of his hand & it doesn't take much walking or time to find him, sitting on a small ledge waiting for the main music room to be unlocked for him, Chris & Changbin, eating a packet of skittles, filling his chubby cheeks while just idly looking around.

"Heya Hyunjin, you alright?" He questions, pulling his legs closer to his chest so Hyunjin can sit down opposite him, which he does. "Been better, got a question for you though." he sighs, leaning forward to dig his hand into Jisungs packet & takes out a handful of skittles, dumping the green ones back into the packet.

"Go f'r it." he speaks, words muffled as he pours more into his mouth. "What you doing with y/n? I pretty much made it clear to stay away, so what is your problem? You coulda asked anyone to help you but I know you went to sir n specifically asked for y/n's help, you can't fool me I've known you too long." he questions, his voice sounding far too normal for it to be comfortable.

"You didn't tell me shit, n I'm not a toddler, what makes you think you can tell me what to do? You're not actually together together so why can't I simply speak to her?" he remarks, smirking at him knowing he is getting under his skin as he throws his empty food wrapper at the bin but missing, making him kiss his teeth.

Hyunjin scoffs at his words, in disbelief. "Han stop being a dick, y/n is mine n it's that simple so just fuck off, I've never told you to leave anyone fuck alone until now so just do it? It's not difficult believe it or not." Hyunjin snaps back, getting more annoyed as the clock ticks by, not bothering to keep his tone quiet as another student walks by every once in a while.

"Yea n we also agreed we wouldn't cockblock each other yet here you are, you guys aren't official which you said yourself so it's fair game. You can't claim someone if you're still flirting with your other little side pieces, me & y/n saw you n Lisa earlier. You seriously wanna get rid of everyone else you see for one person? Next joke." he replies, his voice raising at the end, honestly enjoying how pissed off Hyunjin is getting, his face getting more & more red.

"Lisa is literally nothing to me n yea-" Hyunjin is cut off as Changbin n Chan swivel around the corner, all smiles. "Heya Hyunjin, not seen you in ages, Jisung I got the key so we can go in now, you coming Hyun?" Chan questions as he turns his back to unlock the door.

"Nah, I'm busy n got things to do, I'll speak to you all later." Hyunjin replies, squishing Changbins cheeks playfully, trying to ease any tension the others are starting to sense, before walking off, his breathing intense as he leaves the building & pretty much speed walking home.

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He enters his complex building & storms up the multiple flights of stairs, skipping a step or two each time. He turns the corner & sees you sitting on his doormat, both of you making eye contact.

You stand up & wipe any dirt that could be on you as Hyunjin sighs, stopping in front of you as he moves one of his headphone speakers, not even bothering to fully pull them off.

"Are you gonna speak to me n tell me what's wrong with you Hyunjin?" You speak out, placing your hands on your hips. "Do you seriously not know what you've done? Give me a fucking break. Move, I want to get inside." he spits back before trying to worm his way around you but you stop him.

"Hyunjin what the fuck is your problem? I've done jack shit n yet you're treating me as if I'm an annoyance to you! I'm not leaving till I get an answer." you yell back, getting even more pissed at his attitude.

"I'm not even going to bother arguing with you, especially in my fucking hallway y/n, get inside." He spits out as he pushes your arm away & unlocks his door before entering, not bothering to shut it as he knows you're gonna end up following him.. which you do.

You shut his door behind you & chase behind him as he walks into his bedroom & throwing off his hoodie, not even acknowledging you as he does his usual routine.

"So you gonna explain or what? Also turn around when I speak to you, don't be so fucking rude Hyunjin." you utter, speaking to his back as he doesn't even bother looking at you.

"Got nothing to explain. You gonna tell me why you wrote your number on Jisungs arm when I specifically told you what he would be actually wanting from you & after telling you it would be a complete waste of time?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns around to look back at you, leaning on his desk.

You raise your eyebrows at him, not being able to hold back the shocked laugh at his words. "Are you being fucking serious? First of all Hyunjin, I'm not a kid that you can boss around n second of all, I only gave him my number so he can ask me about anything he needs & I'm basically finished everything I need to do for finals so I don't fucking care about helping your friend out a bit!" you yell back, your heart beginning to race.

"It's fucking obvious he was flirting with you y/n?! Are you really that naive to fucking see it? Sorry to be the one to tell you but it's true." he replies, swinging his arms around & pointing as he speaks.

"So fucking what if he was? It changes absolutely nothing since I'm not interested! But if you want to speak about flirting, you're a huge fucking hypocrite since you were basically drooling over Lisa earlier & you knew I was watching! Your attitude is disgusting & if you're acting like this when we aren't even official then what makes you think that is what I want? You're straight up immature." you shout, your voice going a bit raspy & your hands shaking.

"I did that because I was fucking hurt about what you were doing! & I know we aren't officially together but you haven't been acting as if you want to be with me! You don't even listen to me y/n when I know what the hell I'm talking about. I chosen you for me to actually try get into a relationship with but I'm thinking it's not worth it." he cries out, tears threatening to leave his eyes as he says this, shouting back at you.

"Are you trying to insinuate I'm 'lucky' to be in this position with you, get off your fucking high horse holy shit! I didn't flirt with Han at all but you can't say the same about you & Lisa, how am I supposed to trust you if you act like this over something so small? This isn't even fucking worth it Hyunjin, I'm not going to let you see me as if I'm beneath you." you respond, your voice going monotone at the end as you shake your head at him before turning around to leave, realising this conversation is getting nowhere.

Hyunjin is quick to step across his room & get between you & the bedroom door, blocking you from leaving. "When the hell did I say you're beneath me? Why can't you see how upset I am over all of this? I want to be with you in the future but you are just throwing it back in my fucking face? Do you just like the attention or something? Is that why you just straight up refused to listen to me?" he questions, looking right into your eyes with his own, his eyes being similar to how they looked when he came to your house & confessed to you not too long ago, but with anger mixed in along with them this time.

"You're fucking joking, right? What 'attention' am I getting other than you yelling in my face about it? Stop being such a jealous prick Hyunjin, the future isn't now so you don't have this 'claim' on me like you think you do, as much as I want it & how much you claim yo want to, we aren't fucking dating & you wanna know why I think you're trying to hold back? Is because you like the attention & you won't be able to fuck anyone else without it being considered cheating! Come back to me when you can sort your jealousy & other issues out." You scream at him, a tear or two falling down your cheeks but you're quick to wipe them away, not looking right at him as you speak.

Hyunjin cackles at our words before yet again stopping you from being able to leave, putting his hand on the door handle. "You speak so much stuff that you're convinced you know all about but you couldn't be so wrong it's honestly a joke. I don't want anyone else but you & I've made it so clear since the start, You expect me to not be jealous when someone is fawning over you.. what's mine? Acting as if your blood doesn't boil when anyone flirts with me? You being so pissed about Lisa is a prime example. Stop acting like you're any better than me, that you're not just as possessive over me, you just don't wanna seem like a psycho about it." He replies, his tone still full of venom but no longer yelling at you, tonguing his cheek.

"Why wouldn't I be jealous? I'm clearly threatened by all the girls who drool over you, even more so because I'm not similar to those girls, I'm not as confident or straight up ballsy as them! But the way you've gone about everything is so wrong Hyunjin." You cry, voice lowering to match his but the tears not fully stopping & he takes his finger to wipe them away, pouting.

"I'd be lying if I said you admitting you're jealous isn't hot, but stop fucking worrying, I wouldn't give you the time of day if I wasn't one hundred percent sure. Stop crying too, you don't need to. But being for real, y/n, sto-" He is cut off as your phone begins ringing in the back pocket of your jeans & Hyunjins arm is quick to swing around & pull it out before reading the nameless number, Hyunjin hands it to you with his eyebrows raised, already knowing who it is.

You answer the phone & It's obviously Jisung, who doesn't even give you time to say anything before asking you a whole bunch of questions, saying he is 'stuck' on what to do.

As Jisung speaks, Hyunjin taps the 'speaker' button before ushering you towards his bed, his smirk not leaving his face. You look up at him with confused eyes as the back of your knees hit the bed, making you sit on it before Hyunjin pushes on your shoulder so you're laying fully down, your feet still on the floor of his room before getting on top of you & moving your head to the side before nuzzling his face in your neck, beginning to nibble at it, making you tense up beneath him & your breath hitches.

"Jisung can I call you ba-" You're cut off by Hyunjin nibbling down on your neck as he mumbles a 'nuh uh' & your hand reaches up to pull on Hyunjins hair & he does his best to hold back a groan, his hand slithering down to your jeans, unbuttoning the button after around thirty seconds of trying & then using his hand & legs to push them down just far enough for acccess.

He begins to allow his finger to graze over the outside of your pussy, feeling the fabric of your panties, not failing to feel over the small wet patch now visible as he sucks a dark purple hickey into the crook of your neck & your eyes scrunch together as you bite your lip, trying to not make a sound.

"I did the first two paragraphs but I'm stuck on what quotes to use, I think the ones I've chosen are too short to keep writing about, what quotes did you choose?" Han questions on the other end of the phone but you're barely paying attention as the man above you now wriggles his fingers under your panties, now drawing small circles on your clit, making you gasp.

"You can't use t-the same quotes I use J-jisung, read what you've chose o-out to me." you stutter out, hips grinding against Hyunjins fingers as best as you can with the position you're in.

Jisung begins to read out his quotes & Hyunjin can't help but let out a small chuckle, half at how hard Han is trying but the other half being at how hard you're trying to remain coherent, so he steps up his actions. He cups your pussy before dragging his hand down to your dripping hole & entering two fingers in, a small squelch being heard & your legs tense up even more as you melt into his lips, still suckling hickey after hickey into your neck.

"Y/n? Am I breaking up? We can meet up if you want & you can go over it, I know a café we can meet at if you're free?" He requests & Hyunjin breaks away from you neck to reply for you. "y/n is busy, figure it out." he remarks as he hangs up before turning your phone off & tossing it to the side.

"Didn't know you're into that, y/nnie, you're so wet just from a few touches? So dirty." he remarks, smirking at you before locking his lips with yours, his tongue tasting your own before he even gives you time to respond & you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

His fingers begin to hit against your G-spot as he uses a 'come here' motion as his thumb begins to rub your clit from side to side, making you whine into his mouth, making him smirk.

You move your arm down, dragging your nails down the front of him & over his abs over his shirt before beginning to palm his cock over his joggers, making his hips jerk forward before changing your position by rolling himself onto the bed & pulling you so you're straddling him, his fingers leaving your cunt as he does so, making you whince.

You begin grinding over his covered hard on after kicking your jeans fully off, you being left in just your shirt & panties. "Maybe you're the dirty one Hyune, can't resist touching me while your friend is on the phone hmm?" You finally have the chance to reply & Hyunjin chuckles as his hands come down to your ass, fondling the skin. "Oh but I can resist, but why would I when it's funny to hear him try ask you out while disguising it as 'studying' while you're at my house currently half naked?" he replies instantly, biting his lip as your wetness is now soaking through your panties & leaving a small spot on his clothes, staining them.

You roll your eyes before you pull his shirt off his body, messing up his hair a bit before you slither yourself off the bed & onto his carpeted floor & tugging on his joggers, his hips raising to help you remove them, leaving him in only his underwear.

"You're being bold for someone who couldn't take more than a quarter of my cock last time you sucked it, you trying to train yourself for Jisung?" he teases, resting his bodyweight on his elbows, looking down at you as you pull his hardened cock out, pumping it slowly in your hand.

"Maybe I just didn't want to take any more seeing since I have no idea where it's been." you spit back, looking up at him as you smirk, your bottom lip in between your teeth as you let a glob of spit escape your lips & fall onto his pretty pink tip. He opens his mouth to respond but you cut his words out of his chest by licking a long strip from just above his base to his tip before letting the tip fall past your lips, suckling on it softly, making him hiss.

You let your tongue swirl against his tip before you begin dipping your head lower, allowing your mouth to take part of his shaft in your mouth too. You are still a bit nervous since it's only your second time sucking cock but Hyunjins words fuel you to prove to him you can take it all, so as he is taking a deep breath out, hand holding your hair out of your face, you force your head down further so over half of his cock is now in your mouth & you hollow your cheeks, making his toes curl & have to consciously try not jerk his hips into your mouth.

"You been practicing y/n? Doing so well, taking it so g-good, so pretty." he groans, lightly slapping your cheeks, feeling his cock through the skin of your cheek, giving him butterflies.

You begin to bob your head up & down his cock as you use your hand to jerk him off in the same rhythm, making his grip in your hair tighter as his groans & hisses get more frequent, making you convinced you're probably leaking your own wetness onto the floor you're situated on.

You let yourself off his cock to catch a breath as you let all the spit that's formed in your mouth get dribbled back onto his cock if it hasn't already fell past your lips & you look up at him with glossy eyes as you pump him at a faster pace, his cheeks blown out & now breathing out his mouth.

"Only practice I've gotten is off the pretty boy I'm looking at right now." you chuckle, honestly having no idea where the confidence is coming from before you blow cold air onto his tip, making him yelp & scrunch his eyes shut before leaning forward to pull you back onto the bed.

"I refuse to cum before fucking you" he mumbles, out of breath as he kisses you again, full of tongue. "Open your mouth." he hushes as he breaks away from your lips, fingers playing with your folds over your panties again, his wet cock against your thigh.

You do as he says & he spits into your mouth, humming as you swallow it, nothing but lust in both of your eyes. "Such a slut deep down, aren't you? You want more? Your hips can't fucking stay still." he chuckles, biting his lip as he looks down at the sight below, your lower half squirming to try get more friction & you just whine.

"Hyune.. Please give me it, don't I deserve it?" You question, seduction tinging your voice & Hyunjin can't stop the feeling of his cheeks & ears going hot, the way you're currently talking making his head spin.

He stands up & pulls you towards the edge of the bed, still laying on your back as he peels off your soiled underwear, your pussy glistening & his mouth waters, deciding to spit right onto your clit, making you whine.

He pushes your legs that little bit further apart before situating himself between them, jerking himself slowly while looking down at you. "How bad do you want it, hmm? tell me how much you want it, pretty." he speaks, not looking away from your pretty face as he hits his tip against your clit, making a tiny, sticky slapping noise. "Hyune I deserve it, want it so much, don't I? Look how wet I am for you." you whine, fingers trailing down to spread your lips, exposing your hole to him.

Hyunjin groans at the action , his cock twitching as he aligns himself up with your entrance. "Say it one more time, didn't quite hear you." he replies, hand caressing the inside of your thigh as he drags his cock up & down your folds. "Hyunjin please just put it in! I need it s-" Your cries are cut off as he pushes his tip past your hole & sheaves into you until his pretty, full & heavy balls are against your skin, making you gasp.

"You're so tight, Jisung not fucking you right?" He asks, trying to sound calm & collected when in reality he is trying to not cum on the spot, your warm, wet walls wrapping around his dick perfectly. "t-stop winding me up hyune, please move." you whine in response, making Hyunjin smirk as he retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

He sets a slow but powerful pace, small squelching noises & both of your whines & grunts filling not only his bedroom but the entire apartment. "For someone wh-who's such a fu-fuckboy, you're not fucking me l-like one." You struggle but get the words out, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine & it works as he grunts before pushing the backs of your thighs up against your chest before beginning to pound into you, making you squeal.

"You wanna try repeat that for me, hmm? You're saying that as if anyone can fuck you like this but me, your cunt is mine, can't your brain understand that or are you just too much of a whore to only want one dick?" He snaps at you, his hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat as he abuses your cunt, his thumb reaching down to your cunt, making you yelp & your hips begin meeting his thrusts halfway.

You shake your head but he isn't happy with that response & he grabs your face by the cheeks, forcing you to look up at him as he leans forward. "Words, y/n, where did your boldness go, hmm? Who's pussy is this? Tell m-me." He asks, breath quick & short as he doesn't slow down for even a second, letting out a hiss as you reach up to his back & digging your nails into him on accident, for sure leaving marks later but none of you bothering to care.

"Y-y-yours! Hyun-jin I'ma c-cum." you screech, brain going completely blank, your body almost exploding with sensation. Hyunjin smirks at you before standing upright again, continuing his assault on your swollen cunt. "Cum for me then, show me how good I-I make you feel, Only I can do this for you, can't I? Only I know how to m-make you feel so good, you look so beautiful under me, you need to see." he groans back at you, throwing his head back momentarily before looking back down at you as you cum around his cock, wriggling & squirming as it washes over you, your knuckles going white from the grip you have on his bedsheets.

He fucks you through your orgasm, leaving you breathless before he pulls out. You don't have much time to question it however as he pulls out of you & grabbing your phone off the floor before returning to you.

"Gonna show you how fucking hot you look, It's on your phone so it's just for your eyes, no stress." He says, breathless as he turns on the video option before pressing record & sliding himself back into you, your orgasm forming a white ring around his base.

You clench around his thick cock, partly from overstimulation as he begins pumping into you again, chasing his own release now. The camera is pointed at you so you decide to act up a little, pulling your shirt above your tits, exposing your hardened buds to the camera & cold air of the room, making Hyunjin whine. "Look how beautiful you are y/n, you're anything & everything I could e-ever fucking want, taking me so well, I've t-trained you to take my c-cock so well." he says in a husky voice, his throat now dry as he continues ogling you, looking down at your swollen, reddened pussy, dragging the phone down to let the screen get a good look too, watching it tense & clench around him, making his knees almost buckle.

His eyes widen as your fingers move up to your pretty tits as you begin playing with your own nipples, tugging & pulling on them before raising your fingers to Hyunjins lips & he gladly suckles on them, moaning onto them before you pull them out of his mouth & caress your now spit covered nipples softly.

"You like the c-camera, beautiful? You-you're so dirty, so p-perfect for me. Turn your pretty face to the side, show the camera w-what you let me do to you y/nnie" He groans, his voice high pitched & squeaky & you do as he says instantly, not fully processing what he meant or said as he move the camera upwards, showing the purple marks he has inprinted on your skin.

"G-gonna cum y/n." he forces the words out & before you even realise, you're wrapping your legs around his waist & pulling him towards you. He tosses the phone to the side again before falling onto his elbows on each side of your head & you use the rest of your strength to tilt your head up enough to connect your lip to his neck & you begin pinching the skin of his neck with your teeth & you suck a big purplish red mark into his neck as his own orgasm washes over him.

He melts into your skin as his orgasm fills you, coating your walls & giving you goose bumps. You let him fully lay on you as you softly kiss his neck & earlobe, letting him catch his breath back as you also try relax your own breathing.

You lay like this for a minute or two in complete silence as you now begin playing with Hyunjins wet hair, before tears start leaving your eyes. You begin to sniffle & Hyunjins brain switches itself back on as he pushes his head up from your neck to look at you, now crying.

"Y/nnie, why are you crying? Did I hurt you?" He begins to panic as he moves off of you to start checking you but you sit up too, basically following him as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him back down to you.

"Just stay here f'r a bit, Hyune I'm sorry, I didn't know how upset I would make you." you sniffle, not looking right at him as he looks at your reddened face, his heart hurting. "I'm sorry too, I don't want you to feel insecure, I was being stupid. Can we.. go on a proper date? I know it's not the most romantic time or place to ask but I was n still am serious about only wanting you y/n, I mean it, pinkie swear." He asks you in a soft voice & he holds out his pinkie to you & you can't help but let out a small giggle as you interlock them together then kissing your thumbs before locking in the promise.

"Took you long enough to fucking ask me." You reply as you wipe the tears off your cheeks, reaching up to kiss Hyunjin on the cheek & his already red cheeks get an even darker shade.

"Better late than never, Stay here n I'm gonna get us a drink n we can go for a bath." He kisses your forehead before getting off of you but he takes the time to shuffle you up to his pillows & laying your head on it as he grabs his bed throw & lays you under it so you're not just sitting there, before leaving the room dancing & singing.

"Y/n & Hyunjin sitting in a tree" He sings out loud as he walks around his house & you can't help but laugh. "Stop singing that or I'll change my mind!" You yell & he shuts up instantly (not including the whine of protest he yells back), making you laugh to yourself.

I'm not completely sure I want to do a fourth part to this so in case this is actually the finale, I really hope everyone who has taken the time to read it has enjoyed reading the past 3 parts as much as I enjoyed writing them & thank you for all the kind words! <3

TAGS: @tsunderelino @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada

#skz smut #stray kids #hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #stray kids imagine #straykids x reader #straykids #skz imagines #skz #hyunjin stray kids #kpop smut #smut

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octuscle · 7 months

Text

From tutor to rookie of the year

Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.

The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.

After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.

These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.

Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.

I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.

Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.

"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.

If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age reduction #jock tf #nerd to jock #football jock #ai image

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qqueenofhades · 7 months

Note

What do you think of the movement to vote "uncommitted" in the primary? Personally I think it's a good idea as a protest vote, while not "allowing Trump to win" since it's, ya know, the primary. You're voting for "the Democrat you want to be the candidate for president" not who you actually want to be president. Most of the arguments I've seen against it seem to forget primaries exist...

Well, since you came to me and presumably do want my honest opinion on this topic, I'll share it with you. However, this will also be very blunt and candid, including some things which I haven't yet said in the 4+ months since the whole Israel/Hamas situation kicked off, and therefore also frustrated. This frustration should not be read as/taken as being directed at you personally, but since you're the conduit for this question, that's just something I want to highlight.

So. Why should you vote for Biden in the primary, and not "uncommitted" or whatever else?

First of all, what I desperately want to ask all these self-righteous VOTE UNCOMMITTED IN THE PRIMARY TO SEND BIDEN A MESSAGE types is: what exactly the fuck do you want this message to be, and what action do you expect Biden will take as a result? Is this actually based on an expectation of what he can/and or will actually do, or is it just a froth of misguided Online Leftist "rah rah this Bad Thing Happening Is All Biden's Fault," as we also notably went through when Roe was overturned by the Trump-stacked SCOTUS selected precisely for the purpose of overturning Roe? My god, the amount of bad "THIS IS BIDEN/THE DEMOCRATS' FAULT" posts that appeared, and are still circulating on the particularly idiotic corners of this site. Nothing could ever be Trump/the Republicans' fault in that case; it was the same old same old "DEMOCRATS DON'T CARE ENOUGH TO STOP THIS!!!" puerile fantasy. That's what we are getting now with Israel/Hamas. This isn't Hamas's fault for attacking Israel on October 7 (god forbid; the online left loves Hamas) and it isn't even the state of Israel and Netanyahu's fault for responding with full-scale genocide on Gaza. Or it is, somehow, but not so much that Biden personally couldn't magically reach in and stop it "if he really wanted to." I'm sick and fucking tired of this bullshit sixth-grade bad-faith disingenuous approach to playing Super Moral Social Justice Yahtzee and refusing to acknowledge the thousands of complex factors at play, especially when it involves blaming literally anyone other than Biden, personally (just like the Trump cultists, for whom "IT'S BIDEN'Z FAULT" is the beginning and end of their political theory, just like the Online Leftists). I'm sure this will get me called a genocide apologist by the Very Smart Moral Twitter Thinker types, but I don't think "Biden has failed to magically single-handedly solve this crisis, which stems from one of the most major and long-running issues in post-WWII and indeed pre-WWII world history, in four months" is actually a good reason to vote against him.

Likewise: withholding your vote might make more sense as a strategy if Biden was still only blindly supporting Israel and refusing to do anything to pressure them, which is demonstrably untrue. I know it's hard for some of these people to actually read the news and/or anything outside their ultra-curated Twitter feed, but it's been well-reported and well-documented that he is. If the US was directly involved in the bombing campaign on Gaza, sure, tell Biden that you will vote uncommitted to increase pressure on him to pull out. None of that is actually true, and the "information" about Biden's action in re: Gaza on both Twitter and Tumblr is basically just entirely malicious lies. So again: what message are you sending when you decide to be all precious and announce you're not voting for him? You don't want him to pressure Israel? You're willing to blow this up entirely and increase the media nonsense about BIDEN WEAK DEMOCRATS DIVIDED and give Trump an opening to exploit? You really want to announce to the Trump/Putin/Netanyahu axis of evil that their anti-Biden propaganda is working (since all three of them are working as hard as they fucking can to get Biden out of office, and as someone who opposes all three of them, I think this is a good idea to vote for Biden!) and they need to hammer harder on this wedge issue? Because that's all your oh-so-moral Uncommitted vote is doing. It's not a protest. It's not leverage. It is the withdrawing of leverage. If you want Biden in office so he can be pressured to listen to you and take action that you agree with, you will vote for him. Yes, in the primary. Yes, when it's not directly against Trump.

You want a ceasefire, you say? GREAT! WE ALL WANT A CEASEFIRE AND/OR ACTUAL PEACE AND RECOGNITION OF A PALESTINIAN STATE! That's in fact why you should be busting your fucking ass to make sure Biden gets re-elected, and to give him a strong show of support in the primary. Biden is the only candidate with a credible long-term (and like, baseline functional sane adult) plan for Gaza. Biden is the one who has been pressuring Netanyahu in every single contact to tone it down and stop acting like an insane murderous maniac and therefore torching any remains of sympathy for the attack Israel suffered in October. Biden is the one who has his entire diplomatic team working on high-level contacts with the Israeli government and the Hamas representatives via Qatar, while sufficiently threatening Iran to back down from frothing at the mouth to destroy Israel (once again, just like the rest of the antisemitic western left). Biden is the one who is pushing for this not to be World War III, and yet we get Baby's First Social Justice Activist screaming at him for being GENOCIDE JOE and blaming him personally for not, as I keep putting it, shapeshifting into Netanyahu's body and making this stop. "He should publicly call for a ceasefire!" Or, and this is just a suggestion, he should DO HIS FUCKING JOB and continue to work on serious problems that don't have instant socially media marketable catchphrases and won't come with instant gratification. Also, please tell me how you plan to get both Hamas and Israel to accept the same terms for a ceasefire, abide by it, and do exactly what Big Daddy Biden told them, because you, the dedicated anti-western anti-imperialist, think that's the best course of action?

Like. I mean. As vice president and now as president, Biden is actually one of the least foreign-intervention-happy leaders the US has ever had. He was originally against the Abbottabad raid to take out Osama bin Laden in 2011; he wound down the overseas drone assassination program (at which the Online Leftists screamed bloody murder at Obama, ignored in Trump, and then refused to give Biden any credit for ending) to almost nothing, he pulled the US out of Afghanistan, and even though he's been supporting Ukraine in its fight against Russia, he's also been extremely slow and cautious (in my opinion, too slow and cautious) at giving them all the military hardware they need, even before this latest blockade of aid in the House by Putin's favorite little bitch Mike Johnson. He has already presided over a historic shift in US policy toward Israel, in terms of conditioning the use of lethal aid, imposing reporting requirements, starting to criticize them publicly, and calling for the recognition of a Palestinian state and more humanitarian aid to get into Gaza. Yet in the Online Leftists' mind, because he is not personally out there Captain America-ing away the Israeli bombs and/or calling for Israel to be totally destroyed "from the river to the sea" as the Tumblr activists are fond of using no matter how often Jews ask them to stop, there is nothing he's actually doing! GENOCIDE JOE!!!!! Like, I thought the anti-western anti-American crowd thought all overseas American influence was evil (but all overseas Russian and/or Chinese influence is fine). When Biden actually doesn't recklessly intervene in foreign conflicts like Kennedy/Johnson/Nixon/Reagan/Bush 1/Bush 2/pretty much every American president in the latter half of the twentieth century, you'd think that would get him plaudits? NAH.

"Biden should stop selling Israel weapons without Congressional approval!" Okay, sure, he should. Which he did one time, and he also repeatedly promised to veto and/or not pass any only-Israel aid package that didn't also help Ukraine and Taiwan. He's also not beholden to the frothing antisemitic Online Leftists position that Israel should just lie down and let all of its citizens be killed and its state wiped from existence. Like. We also remember that Jewish voters exist in America, right? And that Jewish lives are something which are repeatedly and demonstrably under threat in the rest of the world, including from Hamas and the Houthis (who are genuinely terrible people and the western left's warm embrace of them as principled anti-Israel actors is all we need to know about their inherent brainrot and moral vacancy). We know that maybe going full masks-off antisemite (which Biden isn't going to do anyway, for any number of reasons) isn't the greatest plan and nothing to which you should be conditioning your vote? Likewise, please tell me how you plan to make Congress (especially the GOP-led clown car House) "do what Biden wants," since you're still beholden to that being the be-all-and-end-all of moral action? Or how you account for Congress at all, and not just think The President is An Almighty King?

Aside from all this, I am sick to my fucking back teeth of the Precious Moral Princesses (gender neutral) who have spent four years lying about everything Biden has done. We had the personally blaming him for Roe ending (he could unilaterally overturn SCOTUS if he really wanted!) We had the endless bashing about student debt, only to ignore him actually making the most major effort to forgive student debt in all the post-Reagan years. We have had a complete ignoring and/or distortion of his domestic policy accomplishments, which are some of the most momentous since FDR and LBJ. We have had an utter ignoring, revision, and downplaying of the damage Trump did in one term and how very much worse his second would be. We have had to endure "WELL YOU CAN'T ASK ME TO VOTE FOR BIDEN" at every single second for every single thing, because this is such a terrible onerous thing to ask them to lift one single fucking finger to give us some more time to come up with a better solution. And yet, as astutely pointed out by one of my anons yesterday, they utterly don't care whether the obvious outcome of this action is to help Trump get back into power. Apparently that's not a moral reach too far, but straining their delicate tender moral sensibilities to fucking do the goddamn bare minimum to help us out -- both in America and around the world -- no, no. We can't have that.

Like. These people allegedly want a ceasefire, and they want it to come about by asking literally nothing more of them then posting snide anti-Biden diatribes on social media. That's the extent of the effort they're willing to put in. They can't even trouble themselves to take the first step of voting for people who want to address this crisis in a constructive way. So yeah, I have a hard time believing this is anything deeply felt in regard to opposing genocide, and just wants what makes them look morally superior. Also: I don't care if your feelings are genuinely pure and strong and you obviously oppose what's happening in Gaza (we all do!) and want it to end. In that case, why the fuck aren't you throwing your support (yes! Even in the primary!) behind the one guy who's actually working to fix it and not just posting empty platitudes on Twitter? It likewise does not excuse you from the harmful consequences of your rhetoric and actions, if you decide that the best way to act on your deep-seated and genuine desire to stop the genocide is just to blindly bash Biden all day every day. Not voting for Biden in the primary does not excuse the fact that this election is against Trump and everything horrible that he represents, and that we are in this situation largely because the online left has learned literally fucking nothing from 2016 and is eager to do it all over again. Not voting for Biden in the primary does not give you a special Gold Star Moral Activist sticker announcing that you were too virtuous to engage in the process now, but if you're sufficiently placated, you maybe will do it in November. Miss me with that bullshit. I've spent eight years pleading with people to help us fix this mess, by -- yes! engaging with the flawed process that makes partial changes!!! -- and all I hear is that same fucking nonsense. That is a large part of why this response is so steamed.

Anyway. In short, I don't think voting "uncommitted" is a good idea, I think it only helps Trump in the short and long term, I think it protests nothing, I think it represents the same old tired anti-voting schlock that I have had more than fucking enough of, and I don't endorse it by any means. However, you will see that while I can strongly and unequivocally give you my opinion that it is a bad idea, I cannot actually reach through the screen, take control of your body, and force you to obey me one way or the other. So maybe, just maybe, Biden can't do the same with Netanyahu. Weird.

#everentropy #ask #politics for ts #vote and get off my lawn #israel hamas war

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literaila · 8 months

Text

house rules (roommate au)

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru keeps an infinite amount of space between him and everyone else."

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, slight angst, mentions of tampons (terrifying), suggestive comments, absurdly long, alternate universe characters

a/n: to all of my frequent readers--i have never claimed to be sane :)

in the broad spectrum of things, opening the door in nothing but your bathrobe and a ridiculously bright orange clay mask is not the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you.

oh no, puking on your first ever date at seventeen definitely takes the cake. finding your seventh-grade friends bent over a table reading your diary--in which you wrote many explicit things about them, not to mention, yourself--might be even worse. riding your bike into the pond by your house in front of all of your--much older, much cooler--neighbors, even. picking up your coffee in your favorite cafe and spilling it, which was not only devastating but humiliating because you managed to spill your mocha on every other drink waiting there (effectively banning you from returning) still haunts your dreams. even walking down the street and trying to pretend like you didn't just trip over air in front of every single one of your peers still lingers in your mind, waiting for a moment of peace before it attacks.

you're used to the feeling of dread in your stomach and the nights spent thinking about all of these moments, like a scrapbook in your mind--just there to make your skin itch.

but, it does get a little bit worse when you realize the man you've opened the door to is none other than a potential roommate; and when you remember that you forgot he was coming.

or when you have to pull your robe tighter around your abdomen just to make sure that you don't give this man a show before you even shake his hand.

"is this apartment 214?" he asks, looking right at you--and your legs, naturally--with a confused grin on his face, but grin nonetheless.

so immediately you slam the door.

you turn around, with wide eyes, face crackling from the movement, and check your phone frantically. yes, it is the 18th, and yes it is 11:32, which means he was supposed to be here over a half-an-hour ago.

and also you've just slammed the door in his--satoru gojo, the only person who's even bothered to respond to your ad about an available room--face.

oh, fuck.

so you groan, refraining from knocking your head against the door just in case he can still hear, and open it again. a little bit less this time.

"gojo?" you ask, voice rough and slightly irritated.

"the one and only. i'm pretty sure this is the right apartment," he says, and you don't fail to notice his tone of voice as he continues, "but if it's not, then fate must've brought us together."

you narrow your eyes, hoping that he doesn't notice the specks of dust that ebb from your skin. "you're late."

"and you're less than dressed."

"i thought you stood me up."

he snorts. "so you started an impromptu spa day? or was this supposed to be another perk of the apartment?"

you glower, opening the door a bit more just so he can see the fury in your eyes. "i don't think someone who doesn't even text to cancel has any right to judge my self-care practices."

"i didn't cancel. i'm here."

"you're late."

"so i've heard..." he drawls.

you blink at him, and he blinks back--or at least, you're assuming. because he's wearing sunglasses even though it's cloudy outside.

and he's aggressively taller than you. he might not even fit through the door.

you don't look away, waiting for him to break. which he does because you're well-practiced in men of his standard. "so, are you going to let me in?" he asks.

"are you going to apologize for being late?"

"i'm sorry that i'm late," he says, immediately, with an air of fake sincerity. "i got stuck in traffic. i would've called, but my phone died."

"really?"

the smile reappears, as if from magic. "no, but did it make you want to let me in?"

you glare even harder--which is tough, honestly--and begin to shut the door. until your plan is interrupted by a foot. "excuse you," you say, to this man, who you already hate. and his stupid chelsea boots.

"look, i'm sorry. i'm trying to ease the tension--because honestly i wasn't expecting to get an eyeful this early in the morning, and you seem uncomfortable--"

you slam the door against his foot again.

gojo doesn't even wince. "and also, you're, like, the only person with a room in the middle of october. and i... could really use a place to put my bed. so, can i look around, at least? i'll keep my eyes closed every time i'm facing your direction. i can even give you my rent money today if it works out."

something in his voice already implies that it will.

and, well. despite your very short robe and your very dry face mask, he is the only person who's even inquired about the room. and you desperately need a roommate; someone to clean up with, someone to make coffee for, someone to argue about toilet paper direction with, and, most importantly, someone who has money and can keep you from getting evicted from the only place you've lived since high school.

so you sigh. think about moving back home and suffering at the will of your parents.

it takes about three seconds to say, "will you wait out here while i get dressed?"

an eyebrow peeks out from behind the sunglasses, as white as his hair. "how long?"

"ten minutes. maybe twenty."

"do you have a chair?" he asks and moves his foot from the door.

and so you close it without answering and rush to your room to find something that's still clean.

there's nothing that you'll actually wear, but satoru gojo doesn't deserve your fresh appearance anyway. he can have day-old wrinkled jeans and a t-shirt you got when you were twelve.

as slow as humanly possible, you remove the face mask, trying to keep your hair out of the way, and think about putting on makeup--which you probably would have done, had you remembered he was even coming--but decide not to.

in reality, it only takes about seven minutes for you to look mostly presentable and get rid of the mugs you left cluttered around the dining room table.

but you wait an extra four, just to mess with him.

and then, eleven minutes later, you open the door again to the man leaning against the wall, playing what looks like candy crush on his phone.

you attempt a fake smile.

"hey," he says, with that same grin, "you have clothes."

you drop your face. "i will close this."

he isn't phased, just pockets his phone and leans in to look behind you at the entryway.

you roll your eyes, but open the door anyway, and usher him in. he rubs his feet against your welcome mat and toys with a keychain you have hanging from a coat rack, then looks to you, like he's waiting for a tour. which, you guess, he is.

"there's only two rooms, one bath. it's not very big, so if you need a lot of space..."

"i can manage," he says, and follows you as you walk into the kitchen. "did you decorate?"

"um... sort of."

"sort of?"

"i, uh, had a roommate before and he bought most of the decorations before i moved in. but i've added a few things. i'm not picky about aesthetics."

gojo hums. "why'd he move out?"

"we were together and he cheated on me," you say, flatly, as you have been for the past month and a half. "and then told me i couldn't use his netflix account anymore after i broke up with him."

gojo merely blinks and gestures toward the wall behind you. "so you didn't buy that dancing frog thing?"

you turn around, rolling your eyes. "no. i forgot that was there."

"okay, good, 'cause that's hideous."

you snort, but nod your head and walk down the hallway. gojo's footsteps follow you as you open the door to his potential bedroom. "it's the bigger of the two," you tell him, "but the bathroom is next to mine."

"did you change rooms?"

"what?"

"when your ex moved out. why take the smaller one?"

"oh," you rub a finger against the wall, rubbing dust off of it. "it was his room before we got together. and then we shared my current room. this was his man... den?" you try, shaking your head. "gaming room? slaughterhouse?"

gojo snorts.

"what?"

"oh, nothing," he says, airy like he's teasing you. "just curious."

you step back so he can walk around, check the carpets for stains, or look for drywall you could've hidden a body behind. but he doesn't, only watches you as you furrow your brows.

"you're not going to look around?"

"it looks like the pictures."

"yeah, but what if there are, like, bugs in the carpet? blood on the walls?"

"are there bugs in the carpet?" he asks. "blood on the walls?"

"not that i know of..."

"great, then it's perfect," he says, and steps out of the room again, whistling as he goes.

this time, you follow him, like he's the one giving the tour.

he pauses at the door a couple of feet down. "this your room?"

"yes."

"can i see?"

you scowl. "no. what do you mean 'it's perfect?'"

"i mean, i'd like to live here. it's nice. besides the frog."

you lean against the wall, trying to inspect him for any mechanical parts. is this a ploy? some joke? "you've barely been here five minutes."

"twenty with all the time i waited outside..."

"you can't just take one look and say 'yup, this is good.'"

"can't you?" he asks, challenging.

"no."

gojo's grin seems to widen, impossibly. "well, i'm not picky."

and somehow you doubt that.

but you don't get the chance to tell him that, or anything else, because he leans against the wall, still smiling at you, and asks, "so, are we roommates now?"

"you haven't even seen the lease. or heard about the house rules."

"house rules?" he repeats, dubiously. like you're making this up (which you are).

"yes."

"such as?"

"no..." you pause, 'cause this is a fickle argument. something about his stupid smile makes you want to argue with him. or maybe it's the hair. or the sunglasses. "murdering anyone in the apartment."

he laughs, unexpectedly, and sighs. "well, i guess i'll take my murdering someplace else."

"and... you can't leave any utensils in the sink."

"okay."

"and i'm not cleaning up any beard shavings, or sharing my tampons with you, or any people you have over."

"these are very extensive," he says, unserious. "anything else?"

"i..." your brows furrow. "no hogging the bathroom. hot water is fickle. and you have to recycle."

"it might be challenging, but we'll figure it out."

"these are not negotiable."

he only continues to smile at you.

eventually, after staring back with a frown that feels slightly permanent for more than a minute, you sigh again. at least you won't have to worry about moving out.

"fine. you still want to live here?"

"mmhmm."

"okay," and you stick your hand out for him to shake like this is a business transaction.

and it seems that you'll be seeing a lot more of that grin in the future.

living with satoru gojo is not... well, it's not hard. he's a normal enough roommate.

he pays his rent on time and doesn't touch the coffee you make in the morning most days--coughing when he does. he man spreads on the couch and watches movies way too loud and doesn't hang his bag up at the door, preferring to, instead, set it on the counter like a maniac. he whistles when he walks, and wears his stupid sunglasses 80% of the time, and grins at you when you're irritated, and, honestly, he's not really half bad.

he doesn't leave any huge messes for you to clean up (mostly because he doesn't use the kitchen or the dining table ever). he doesn't invite people over that keep you up all night (because he's gone most nights). and, actually, he keeps the bathroom quite clean (even if he takes up well more than half of the shower space with his weird face creams and deep conditioning treatments).

but satoru gojo is hard.

it's not what he does, but rather who he is. with his infuriating good looks--taking up most of the fair share for the rest of the population--and his subtle charm, which, if you didn't know who he was, might actually work on you, and his morning voice and his messy hair and just the way he lives.

like breathing is just what he's supposed to be doing. like he doesn't need to worry about a thing because nothing should matter if he decides he doesn't want it to.

so easygoing and naturally intuitive and far too exhausting for you.

because, as a fatal flaw of your own, you love to mess with him. somedays you'll hope he shows up just so you have someone to fight with. just so you'll be irritated instead of stressed, frustrated instead of exhausted.

it's kind of addicting, in a way. and masochistic, but you've never claimed to be completely sane.

and honestly, gojo's just asking for it.

after a mere month of living with his aura around, you come to expect his cockiness. you live to take him down a notch.

so when he's up this early in the morning, whistling like it's his god-given right, you scowl at him just as he enters the room.

"woah," he says, sliding on a bar stool in front of you. "starting early this morning?"

"you're banned from talking to me until noon."

"is this about the ice cream i ate? cause there was only a little left..."

"no it's--" you pause, frowning at him. "you ate my ice cream?"

he lays his entire torso on the counter, pathetically. "i was dying, okay? low blood sugar was going to kill me, and i couldn't see anything else but that ice cream and it wasn't even very good anyway, so, really, i was saving you from having to endure the rest of it."

"you ate my ice cream?" you repeat.

"i'll buy you more. a better kind. and then you'll understand that i was doing you a favor."

"i might kill you."

"i thought we banned homicide from the apartment."

"i was going to eat that," you whine, shoving his hands away from trying to grab your mug.

he smiles, too bright for so early in the morning. "yesterday you told me sweets weren't an appropriate breakfast."

you scoff. "yeah, cause that's all you eat. you need a green smoothie or something in the morning just to keep your heart beating for the rest of the day."

"my heart beats very well, thank you. wanna feel?"

you roll your eyes and sigh into your mug. "i'll be expecting three pints of ice cream as an apology later tonight."

gojo has already moved on, typing away on his phone, probably to some groupies he manipulated into loving him. "i can't. it's flip night at laurent's tonight, and suguru has already threatened me into coming."

"why did you say laurent's like i'm supposed to know what you mean?"

"laurent's," he repeats, looking at you.

you blink.

"the bar?" he questions, like you're crazy.

"okay, sorry, i don't exclusively hang out at bars filled with frat boys."

"it's very sophisticated,” he corrects, his frat boy nature very obvious. “i mean, i frequent there."

you laugh.

"clearly you've never been."

"i'm still expecting ice cream."

he sits back in his chair. "i have class all day."

"like you've never skipped a class."

"encouraging ditching?" he asks, mock appalled. "what kind of roommate are you?"

"the kind that doesn't steal her roommate's food. just get one of your servants to pick it up.”

gojo waves a hand at you, and that statement, apparently. and then he types another thing into his phone—to said servants you assume—and grins again. his face must’ve missed the feeling. "how about i buy you a drink instead? you can come with me tonight. meet my friends. maybe make some of your own."

"haha," you cross your arms. "if they're as bad as you, then i'm good."

"you'd probably love them. they also like to torment me, even though i'm pretty and perfectly nice to them."

"i seriously doubt that."

his eyes--oh, yes, this early in the morning he skips the sunglasses--sparkle like gems. "i have to play wingman for suguru, but it probably won't take long. you can mingle. meet someone. i think you could use a way to relieve some of that stress."

"oh, you mean the stress that you cause?"

gojo grins and you realize that you've fallen into his trap. "i'm willing to help out whenever you like," he says, deviously, "you just haven't asked yet, sweetheart."

"nor ever will," you grind out.

gojo hums and taps his fingers against the countertop. the two of you stare at each other, grin matching scowl, and eventually, he loses the contest. "so, can i plan to steal you away from eternal solitude at six?" he asks.

and just because he's right--in his weird, satoru gojo way--you nod. it might be nice to get out of the house; and meet people other than the lost freshman at work. and because you know that gojo will continue to bother you about it otherwise. he’s a very difficult person.

as if proving it, he grins all pleased with himself, so you add, "but you're buying all of my drinks." before he can get too ahead of himself.

it's not nearly loud enough in this bar. as soon as you walk in, you're sure of it.

because even with a band up on the stage, singing about loving someone or money or drugs, you can still hear gojo as he flirts with every single living thing in his twenty-foot vicinity.

he's got his grin on, styled his hair all fancy, and his clothes are signature in the way that you've probably seen him wear the same thing fifty times. maybe in a row.

but the people in this bar don't care. no, they flirt back like they already know who satoru gojo is. and maybe they do.

you don't really care, but you do have to drag him along so he can show you where you're supposed to sit and tell you the names of his friends before you get drunk enough to forget.

it takes three minutes of trailing after gojo like a lost puppy to remember that you hate going out. that you hate everything about your so-called roommate and you should've shoved his invitation down the drain along with him.

as if gojo can hear this thought, he peeks over his shoulder, smirking at you. "enjoying the view?" he asks, and you try to trip him by stepping on his heel.

unfortunately, he only swings around, walking backward through the crowd like it's going to part for him.

oh, wait. it does.

you frown at him.

"what? you don't like the music?" he pouts because that would personally offend him, of course.

"where are we going? i think we've passed that table four times already."

"i have to say hi," he says like this is obvious. "it's rude to just walk into some place without greeting everyone."

"do you own this bar?"

"what? no."

"then find your friends so we can sit down," you grumble, trying not to lose him in the sea of people. it's unlikely that you've ever seen a bar this packed. more like a club, honestly, but you wouldn't put it past gojo to lie.

eventually, he does lead you to a table, announcing, with a flourish. "don't worry, everyone, i'm here," while he bows--because of course he does. "and," he adds, "i brought a stowaway."

you peek around his shoulder to meet three people, all staring at him with the same unamused expression. one, suguru--from the many photo albums and 'trips down memory lane' gojo has bombarded you with--gives you a little wave. the other two just continue to stare at gojo.

"everyone, this is y/n, my favorite roommate. y/n, that one is suguru," he says, pointing towards him, "which you already know. the short one is shoko, and the blonde one is--"

"nanami," you cut in, "hey."

gojo frowns, looking between the two of you. "you know each other?"

"we have analytics together," you answer, sliding in to sit across them, next to gojo, naturally. "i usually cheat off of his notes."

"she gets me coffee," nanami adds, like this information is imperative.

gojo grins again. "why didn't you say anything nanamin?"

"because i didn't realize."

"who else could i have been talking about? do you know several pretty girls named y/n? you a player?"

nanami has a very familiar frown on his face, and is about to say something when suguru seems to kick gojo under the table. "satoru, i told you to stop referring to other people as 'players.'"

gojo merely rolls his eyes. "can't fight the truth," he says.

you almost smile. almost. but your eyes drift over to shoko, who sighs. "how'd you get stuck with this one?" she asks, not harsh, but not quite soft.

"he promised me alcohol."

she nods knowingly.

speaking of, you turn towards him. "you and i both know there's only one reason i'm here."

gojo flicks your forehead, but stands up. "i'll be right back," he says, "don't miss me too much."

and you all watch as he walks away, conveniently stopping at least four times to talk to several different people.

you groan. "he's not coming back is he?"

"he will," suguru says, not quite reassuringly. "probably. in an hour or so."

you cover your eyes with your hands and listen as the three of them laugh at you.

it probably is an hour or two later that you see gojo again.

you'd fallen into smooth conversation with his friends, talking about classes, and dancing, and the fact that you all shared a common enemy. it was easy enough, talking to them, like ripples in a pond. but surely if gojo had stuck around, it would've been more of a tsunami. you could see the appeal--at least for someone like your roommate. they all seemed responsible enough.

but shoko, after a twenty-second lull in conversation, decided she was better off drinking at home, and nanami quickly agreed. watching them, compared to gojo, disappear into the crowd was a different experience.

you bite your cheek unnervingly, wondering if it made you a bad roommate to want to let gojo suffer here alone and walk home by himself.

suguru pats you on the shoulder when he stands up a moment later, brushing his pants. "i'll go find satoru," he says, softly. you feel that same irritation when you realize that gojo had probably lied to you about coming here for suguru. it was almost infinitely more times likely that suguru had come here for him. "do you want me to tell him you went home?"

"how likely is it that he'll go home with someone else and it won't matter if i wait for him anyway?"

the dark-haired man considers this with a sly grin on his face. "if i tell him you left, he'll find someone to cling to. but if you're here he'll go home with you. probably drunk, though."

you run a hand through your hair, waving him off. "it's fine. i'll wait, then. but tell him that the homicide clause doesn't apply to outside the apartment."

suguru laughs, not questioning this, and walks away.

you sit there, toying with a glass someone had left behind, watching the people around you dance like it really was a club. with absolutely no one watching. not even god, evidently.

as usual, gojo lied--even though you hadn't really believed him when he said this place was sophisticated. the clear air of stale beer and vomit is enough to prove that.

you almost laugh bitterly, but then a mop of white hair appears in the chair next to you, and his grin is wider, larger than you'd remembered.

how long had that taken?

"hello hello, roomie," he sings, leaning close to you. he moves his chair, shuffling across the floor so that he's near enough to touch. "i heard you were threatening me again."

"you could hear that over the sighs of your fan club?"

gojo giggles, like he's in on the joke. his breath falls on your face. "i like it when you tell me you're going to murder me, you know."

"of course you do. how much did you drink?"

"it's not the quantity," he whispers, "it's the quality."

"your friends told me you could get drunk off of hand sanitizer."

gojo leans back, his long legs knocking against yours. "are they spreading those rumors again?"

you kick his foot away from yours but don't say anything. his eyes seem somehow wider right now, even behind his dark shades. almost like you could see them.

you blink, and gojo does it back. his lashes fluttering just enough to tell.

it almost makes you smile. laugh a little bit at his innocence--especially right now, when he's clearly not himself--some more unperturbed version of who he normally is (if that's even possible). he probably wouldn't even remember if you did laugh at him. but you refrain anyway.

gojo gasps suddenly. "oh! let's go to the store. you want ice cream, right?" his elbow slides onto the table as he rests his chin on a hand.

you kick his foot again. "i wanted a drink," you correct, "but apparently you got distracted."

"'s not my fault," he almost slurs, sadly.

"are you ready to go home?"

"i'm ready to leave. so we can get your ice cream. want to share a spoon?" his grin is unabashed. you could tell him that he is a vile, disgusting creature right now and he would probably agree.

you don't, for whatever reason.

"i don't think anywhere's open, and i don't want to drag you around while you're this drunk."

he taps your thigh with a finger. "hey. i'll have you know that i am a very proficient walker."

"oh, really?"

"learned when i was a kid and everything."

"wow, gojo, i'm very impressed," you deadpan, and look around. "do you need to say goodbye to suguru?"

he frowns. then points to himself. "gojo," he repeats, and into the crowd, "suguru."

like he's an actual toddler.

you shake your head and stand up, still looking. "can you text him?"

"i guess," he mumbles, getting out his phone and almost dropping it. he frowns like this is deeply upsetting.

so you grab it from him. "what's your passcode?"

"one one one one." you look at him with a brow raised. "cause i'm number one," he answers, pridefully.

you scoff, but look through his texts anyway, and tell suguru that you're taking him home--and never ever coming out with him again--and then hand it back to gojo.

he smiles at you. you roll your eyes.

then he grabs your hand, and begins to pull. "c'mon before they find us," he says, and it doesn't make any sense.

but were you really expecting it to?

perhaps the aftermath of drunk gojo is even more entertaining than the actual thing.

shoko hadn't been kidding when she said he was the worst drunk--and even worse when hungover.

how do you know this? oh, because you woke up at one in the afternoon--perfectly respectable for a saturday--and as soon as you dared to even open your door gojo was already groaning about the noise. so you slam it a little as you leave.

there's a grunt, like a dying cat, and two minutes later he is walking into the kitchen with slits for eyes and cotton for hair. you're not sure what he's wearing--some video game shirt--but it's wrinkled enough to match your roommate's appearance. disheveled and slightly peeved, he's almost glaring at you--like he's capable of such a thing.

you try not to laugh.

"where's the bacon?" he asks, almost slipping off of the counter as he leans on it. his hands rubbing at his eyes.

"sorry?"

"wheres the bacon?" he repeats, his voice a different register this morning. "i need emergency bacon."

"so make some. there's a pan and probably a package in the fridge."

he whines, falling against the counter again. his natural habitat. "i can't make it, i'm dying. you really want your terminally ill roommate to cook for himself?"

"i want my overdramatic roommate to act like an adult for a change."

he blows a raspberry, and his face is hidden beneath the tile of your table. you can only see his hair, which looks surprisingly soft for his state.

"did you lose some pigment in your hair?"

gojo snaps up, immediately, gasping. he pulls a strand so he can look at it, blinking rapidly. his panic quickly fades, and he blows the strand out of his eyes. "it's just dirty."

"from what?"

"i forgot to buy new bedsheets," he grumbles, once again hiding his face.

"your bedsheets are dying your hair?" you ask, with a raised brow.

"they're dirty," he repeats, rolling his eyes as he sits up. "i need to go to the store."

"um..." you look at him as he slumps against his own body, feeling greatly concerned for his survival abilities. "you buy new bedsheets?" you confirm, "instead of washing them?"

he waves a hand, blowing you, and your clearly audaious sentence away. "bacon," he says, flatly.

you roll your eyes. "pan," you point, "stove."

gojo looks like he might start crying.

and it might be his state or the fact that you don't think you've ever seen him like this--in the month you've known him--all lost and confused and a little bit ruffled at the edges. gojo's snark is usually in its top form when you see him in the morning.

so, just this once, you grab a pan, and turn on the burner.

"i'll be expecting payment for my time," you say, as you grab the bacon from the fridge.

and maybe you get your first real smile from your roommate.

you're lying on the couch reading a book when he appears, swarming like a fly.

"hello, roommate," he says, uncharacteristically pleasant, and then he sits on your legs. you try to kick him, but it proves futile because apparently he's a giant, so you wiggle your way out from under him and sit up, frowning.

"don't you have a room?" you ask.

"i could ask you the same thing," gojo tries to tickle your feet, but you move them away before he can. your frown turns into more of a glare. "what?" he asks, "we can't hang out?"

"no."

gojo pouts. "but we're roommates," he says as if it's an explanation. like being roommates binds your souls and forever intertwines the two of you.

"we are roommates because i had an extra room and you had money. that doesn't seem like thrilling grounds for friendship."

"well, how about the fact that i let you use my hair dryer the other day?" he lays down on the other side of the couch, smirking at you. "that's a friendly thing to do."

"that's the polite thing to do. i'm trying to train you. speaking of which..." you point towards the floor, "down boy."

he takes off his sunglasses, throwing them on the coffee table--which probably explains the broken mug pieces you found in the trash the other day--and lays back with his arms behind his head. his eyes are closed. "i can't be trained."

"clearly."

you sigh and relax in your corner of the couch, picking up your book again. his presence lurks like a nightmare, but, you figure, eventually, he'll get bored.

you just can't entertain him. it's like the advice you'd give to a kid being bullied: they only care about your reaction...

as if proving your point, after twenty-seven seconds of silence, he opens one eye, peeking at you. "whatcha reading?"

"a book."

he plucks it right out of your hands, inspecting the cover. how he got across the couch in 0.2 seconds, you don't know.

"what is this?" he asks, snickering a little. "word porn?"

you take it back. "it's called romance, gojo. not that i'd expect you to be familiar with anything of the sort."

he smirks, laying back down. "i have references if you need proof."

you shake your head, flipping him off, and continue to scan the words on your page without retaining any information.

seriously, his presence is impending doom itself.

"it's okay," he whispers, "you don't need to be embarrassed. everyone craves intimacy."

"i crave my fist on your face."

he snorts. "that's not very friendly."

you sigh, dropping the book again so you can look at him and his obnoxious eyes. "look, i'm tired, it's been a long week, and if you don't leave me alone i'll probably lock you outside."

"probably?"

"it's that or throwing you out the window."

gojo laughs once again, but mimes zipping his mouth shut. you roll your eyes and open your book again. your feet are entwined, but you don't mock this--if only because you're sure that gojo will start an argument about it.

the quiet lasts for two minutes and then he turns on the tv.

you groan and he laughs at you.

you're getting used to having him around, at least. and in turn, his friends. because they seem to be a package deal.

after that night at the bar, gojo--apparently--feels much more comfortable having them over. trying to bake cookies with shoko or interrupting what's supposed to be a study session between the four of them.

at least, you think, watching this happen, that you're not the only person forced to endure him.

but it's kind of... nice to see him act like a normal person, for once. to get teased by someone other than you and pout like a begrudged younger brother. the person who invites his friends over for game night (getting aggressively angry every time he loses) isn't satoru gojo, the man whom everyone is drawn to. he isn't some drunk guy charming everyone around him or a roommate that you just happened upon.

he's just another college student, laughing along with people who aren't nearly as bad as him.

and, naturally, you find yourself intertwined with these 'hang-outs' because the apartment is small, and you don't want to be left out--no, you choose not to think about how pathetic it is that satoru gojo has more friends than you do, so please don't bring it up.

and it's on this night when you're not playing uno with the four of them, but rather, watching behind all of their backs and trying to mess with gojo as much as possible.

you pretend to be idly cleaning in the kitchen, when really you're standing behind him, mouthing to suguru what color he has whenever he's about to win.

"hmm," the sly-mouthed man says this time, "green."

shoko puts down a seven, and gojo groans again. "seriously?" he asks, but begins drawing cards.

you try--and fail--not to giggle behind him. to which, of course, he turns around with an obvious glare in his eyes. "what are you doing?"

the sink isn't on, and there are no dishes to be seen in the kitchen. nonetheless, you point uselessly to the roll of paper towels on the counter. "cleaning."

"you're cleaning air?"

"sorry, i didn't realize i was banned from loitering in my own home."

he turns back around, looking at suguru for a moment, then back at you. it's very hard to keep the smile off of your face, especially when nanami looks like he's about to break and shoko is pretending to rifle through her cards again.

how many times have you done this to him? oh, just a mere eight.

to be fair, it would've ended a long time ago if gojo wasn't such a sore loser.

he looks back and forth once more. then he frowns. "what are you doing?"

"do you want me to go hide in my room, gojo?" you ask, trying to scowl. "because i will. i was just trying to be hospitable--"

"nanamin," he interrupts. "go."

so another round of cards is placed, and this time suguru plays normally, keeping his face straight to not draw any suspicion. you lean against the wall, enjoying yourself.

(don't tell anyone, but this is the most fun you've had in a while).

and then, after a couple of rounds go by, you finally clear your throat. gojo turns to glare at you through his sunglasses and says "go stand behind suguru if you're going to watch. i don't trust you."

you raise your brows but do as he says.

and when shoko has to draw the next time, you smile and tap a couple of times on your thigh.

suguru does his best impression of gojo's grin, and says, "draw four," to shoko.

she smiles back. turns to gojo. "draw four," she repeats.

and he stares at the two of them, then the cards stacked on top of each other, and then to you, right across him. "what are you doing? i know you're doing something."

"satoru, she's just watching--"

"no, she's smiling." he looks back to you, "you're smiling. you don't do that unless i'm in pain."

"so you just assume that you're losing cause i'm... what? drawing your cards for you? shuffling the stack so only you get the bad hands?" you cock a brow at him, willing yourself not to look at anyone else at the table. it would only end in disaster.

"i--" gojo runs a hand through his hair. then he sighs and begins drawing his eight cards.

and several rounds later--with gojo losing once again--you've begun moving around the table like you're inspecting each player. gojo doesn't let you look at his cards though.

and it takes a while before he notices anything. particularly after suguru wins for the third time in a row.

he looks at everyone--brows pulled together, irritated eyes hiding behind his sunglasses, and his cheeks are flushed from how frustrated he is--and as soon as you start laughing at his face, everyone else does too. suguru throws his cards down and shakes his head. nanami shuffles the deck while trying to keep his laugh muffled--but it's there. and shoko is outwardly laughing at him, pointing at gojo and then at you.

"are you guys stealing the cards?" he asks, almost disbelieving, his voice so childlike that you start laughing even harder. "look at the deck! it's half the size that it was."

and then he's standing up and inspecting you, sticking his hands up your sleeves and finding dozens of cards hiding there, falling onto the floor.

gojo gasps in outrage, but it doesn't even matter to you.

everyone else is clutching their stomachs and gojo begins to pout. "you're all traitors," he's saying, and "how long have you been doing that?" and you almost can't breathe--

so yeah. you don't really mind these kinds of nights. and you don't complain about the messes gojo and his friends leave behind.

you shouldn't have given suguru your number. this much is obvious.

but, to be fair, you weren't exactly thinking when you were talking to him about a self-help book you'd picked up, and he was mentioning a podcast, and then he was taking your phone and putting himself in it--which, in itself, should not be dangerous--telling you that he'd send you a link and that you should let him know if you liked it, and that was that.

and really, there shouldn't be any repercussions to this. suguru is your sort of friend, and sort of friends can text on occasion.

except for the fact that he's also satoru gojo's friend. so when you wake up at ten--silently thanking yourself for taking a day off before a week of back-to-back classes and work--he's already texted you, and it's obvious that you failed somewhere in life.

maybe when you accidentally invited a demon into your house and allowed him to stay.

from suguru :p :

hey satoru is supposed to be in class right now and he won't answer me

can you please kick him awake?

but maybe it wasn't a mistake. because at least you have a good excuse to give gojo a bruise.

so you creep down the hall, reluctantly knocking on his door even though it ruins the element of surprise (you're not a monster) and listening as there's no response.

gojo must be asleep. or dead. honestly, you might've killed him in your sleep--wouldn't be the first time.

so you peek the door open, realizing now that you haven't been in his room since he moved in, and watch as a figure slithers under the covers almost before you notice. gojo is completely covered except for the foot he's left hanging off of the side of the bed.

"get up," you tell him, looking around at the sparse decorations he's put up. there are books, candy wrappers, and socks all over the floor, but it's not the messiest room you've ever seen. which is slightly surprising, considering all that you know about gojo.

he whines from under the cover, turning so you get a view of exposed skin on his back. "sleeping," he says as if you might believe him.

so you creep over trash and textbooks and pull the blanket right off of him.

gojo is already looking at you, pouting. his hair is in his eyes and his mouth is puffy--probably from kissing his pillow in his sleep. "what if i was naked under here?" he asks you, very seriously. "i don't let just anyone see that, you know?"

"you're wearing the same silk pajamas you wear every night."

he tries to pull the blanket away from you, his fingers peeling yours away. he huffs. "it's the principle. you don't just wake a man up from slumber."

you snort. "did you travel a century in your sleep?"

"yes, now go away." and then he falls back into the blankets, his words muffled.

"you have class, your highness. i've been sent to fetch you."

one eye appears from under the blanket. "how do you know my schedule?"

"telepathy. now get up."

"i can't," gojo fake coughs. "i'm sick."

"suguru said you'd say that."

he groans, turning over and muffling a few explicit words that sound like a curse upon his best friend.

you poke his back. "did you sleep through your alarm?"

he doesn't answer. his body has gone limp like you might not notice that he's there if he stays still for long enough. so you pull his hair, turning his head towards you. "you're not usually this whiny in the morning," you tell him.

"why are you so mean to me?"

you hum, pretending to consider it. "i think it's the hair. i find it pretentious."

"i could sue you. discrimination is very serious. i've got a good lawyer, too."

"i'll sue back for mental damages."

he laughs, and wiggles from your grasp.

you sigh and finally sit down at the edge of his bed, observing the lollipops he's left lying on his bedside table. gojo's bones seem to crack as he sits up with you, moaning the whole way.

you're silently observing him--with his slightly red eyes and heinous mouth. you're not used to seeing him like this in the morning; usually, he's chipper and annoying. when he walks into the kitchen in the morning you half expect him to start singing.

but this gojo is tired. he rubs at his eyes. "did suguru text you?"

"yup."

"he's a terrible friend."

you nudge him, almost like an agreement. "why aren't you in class?"

"what's even the point of going? it's not like i get a reward."

"i think the reward is graduating, but you might have to fact-check that one."

he nudges you back and then takes your hand. his fingertips are soft as they trace the tendons and veins he can see on your skin. his hands are softer than you'd have expected. his eyes are wary as they look towards the floor, his mouth twisting in displeasure. but he doesn't stop touching you, he does so idly that you almost don't notice. "i have an a in the class," he tells you, "and i already know most of the material so why would i go to every lecture?"

maybe it's the way he says it; so sure and nonchalant, in his typical over-dramatic fashion. maybe it's just that he's never mentioned any of his classes to you, or the fact that he's taking any. maybe he's just crazy--that's the most likely option--but you're suddenly curious.

"what class is it?"

"theoretical physics."

you whistle, shaking your head. "and you already know most of it?"

gojo drops your hand and looks at you. his eyes are wide. maybe he's just realized that he's been talking to you this whole time. "when i was a kid my, uh, my dad had a bunch of textbooks in his office that i used to read through every time i got in trouble," he grins, "which was a lot."

"i can imagine."

"well, it turns out you can only read something so many times before it becomes ingrained in your brain."

you pull at his bedsheet. "do you have a test today, or something?"

"no, suguru just thinks i'm lazy."

you laugh, because he is. gojo rolls his eyes at you so you don't say it. you're a little bit surprised, actually. you knew that gojo wasn't stupid (or at least, you might've known) but there's something about the proof of it. like you can't just read right through him. like maybe there's still more to learn about your roommate and maybe there always has been.

or maybe you're just tired, and he's always had the strange ability to draw irrationality out of you. and also he's an idiot.

"i just..." he starts and his smile fades, but only a little bit. he keeps a layer on while he peels a layer off. "i mean, i like the class. math is cool. but i just don't feel like it today, you know?"

and there's something about his voice as he says it. steady and true, as always, but softer. but compeltely honest.

and you've heard him complain about a million things, like every time you and suguru talk about something he doesn't understand or when the door isn't unlocked when he gets home, or when you won't add his one shirt to your laundry. you've heard every whine and every groan come from his lips.

but he's not complaining about this. just confiding.

and there's such a drastic difference that it takes you a moment to respond.

but you do eventually. "yeah, i know," you tell him and rest a hand on his thigh to squeeze.

and the way that gojo looks at you after--like you might just be saying it to make him feel better--is perplexing. his eyes are blue and maybe you've just noticed this--just started to realize that you're actually sitting with him like a normal person. and that he actually looks grateful.

you shake your head, willing yourself to look away, because maybe there is something sort of magnetic about your roommate. and it feels impossible to only have noticed this now. to realize how warm he is next to you, and how your muscles tense up when he shifts. gojo is looking at you, and it might be the first time.

so you stand up, flicking his chin. "i'll tell suguru that you're puking your guts up."

"really?"

"yup. but next time you sleep through a class i'm going to wake you up by pouring ice water on your face."

he grins. "cruel."

"and i'll record it."

you step over candy wrappers and dirty socks as you leave his room, and as soon as the door is closed you sigh in relief. you're probably better off never opening that door again.

it's a ridiculously cold night when he shows up.

you're sitting at the front desk in the library, pretending to study for a mid-term, and trying to smile at the fifth lost library card you've heard about tonight. you got this job at the beginning of the year, and it pays horribly. but at least you can sit around and study, most weekends it's quiet enough to take a nap, and no one tends to bother you when you're drooling all over the reception desk.

most weekends, that is, because as soon as he walks in through the door--letting in air so brisk that it has the potential to kill you--it gets significantly louder.

because satoru gojo is not affected by trivial things such as snow, or blizzards, or the fact that the library is supposed to close in less than ten minutes...

still, you don't really notice him--a rare circumstance that you will question later that night--until he's right next to you, breathing in your ear.

"slacking on the clock?" he asks, and just for a moment, you almost disembowel him with the pen you're holding in your hand.

but then you grunt, used to this sort of intrusion from your roommate, and push his head away. "how did you find me?" you ask him, because, honestly, this job is just an escape from his neverending antics at your house (no, it doesn't matter that you got the job before you knew that such an annoying person could possibly exist).

"i microchipped you in your sleep," gojo says, smoothly, sitting in the chair right next to yours, swiveling around. "i thought i told you about that?"

you blatantly look at the clock and ignore him. "you know that the library closes in seven minutes?"

"...and?"

"so go torment someone else," you answer, standing up with a stack of fileable papers, "i'm busy until eight."

"i'll help," gojo says, eager as always, and takes half of your stack. "where to?"

it is from two months of experience that you know he will not leave you alone. even if you chew off his fingernails and keep them to make into necklaces, gojo will follow you around as long as you make it clear you don't want him to.

so you walk towards the copying room, smiling at all of the sleep-deprived students you pass by and rolling your eyes when gojo does the same.

"how did you even find the library?"

gojo walks like he has absolutely no equilibrium; knocking into you every couple of steps, and then falling in the other direction. it must be a consequence of all of his strenuous leaning.

so he bumps into you as he replies, "tracker," like it's obvious.

you snort. "no, seriously. i didn't think you knew that libraries existed. aren't you allergic to reading?"

"hey!" he tries to trip you. "i'll have you know that i am very studious. top of my class."

"that's why you pay suguru to write your papers for you, right?"

gojo makes a small noise in the back of his throat. "he doesn't write them," he grumbles. "well, not all of them."

you snort and open a door for him to follow through.

"my study group meets here on wednesdays," gojo answers, finally.

"you're a part of a study group?"

"where do you think i go all of the time?"

you briefly consider this, setting the papers down. "cemeteries to mourn all of the people you've annoyed to death, probably. or your girlfriend's house." you shrug.

gojo sets his stack on top of yours, diligently lining them up. "i don't do that every night," he drawls, rolling his eyes. and then he winks at you. "and i don't have a girlfriend. thanks for asking."

you mess up his stack and turn away from him. "sorry, i meant girlfriends as in plural. girlfriends."

"nope, again."

gojo follows closely behind you as you begin to lock up all of the spare rooms, turning off lights and looking for any lost items. "commitment issues?" you ask, fake sympathy clouding your voice.

"sweetheart, if you want me, then just say that. you don't need to pretend to worry about anyone else." his cockiness is infuriating, but you don't even bother to scold him for it. you turn towards him with sharp eyes.

"do i seem worried to you?"

"no, but you're a bad actor," gojo hums, fingertips grazing along your skin as he inspects your face. "denial is serious. you might want to see a doctor."

"you would know," you answer, glaring and pulling away from him. the two of you walk as people begin to trek out of the library, no longer held captive by the idea of studying.

gojo is much too close, as usual, his sweater brushing against yours.

"how'd you even know i was here?" you ask him, after a minute of silence.

"please," he answers, grinning down at you. "i got a PI as soon as you gave me my key."

you squint. "did you actually?"

he laughs. "no. you told shoko, and shoko told me..."

you nod, clearing the desk of your things, tossing your bag at gojo for him to carry. "so why are you here?"

he clears his throat, unplugging the cord to your computer and wrapping it around his hand. "i was walking by, and i thought i'd see if you wanted to come with me for drinks after your shift."

"drinks?" you repeat, taking the cord from his hands.

"flip night."

you groan. "i am never participating in that again after what happened last time."

"it wasn't that bad."

"i had to drag you home and you almost threw up in my hair."

gojo smiles. "consider yourself lucky."

you push him out of the way and put your coat on. then you turn off the lights and push in all of the chairs, gojo not helping at all. "i didn't even get my drink," you remind him.

"okay, so let me make it up to you."

and his voice is a bit different. still arrogant, naturally, still smiling and easy--but maybe he means it? maybe beneath his, frankly, soft exterior, he feels bad for getting drunk before you could? maybe he's not actually a complete monster?

you laugh that thought away as soon as it comes.

you sigh. "are your friends going to be there?"

"yes, our friends are. they suggested i invite you."

you sigh--again, because the air is quite thin when gojo is around--and consider it. for just four seconds. but eventually, you shake your head. "i can't," you tell him, looping your arm around his so you can drag him out of the building.

"why not?"

"i'm tired, and i still need to study for a test on monday..."

"do it in the morning."

you give him a blank look. "i won't want to study if i'm hungover."

"then don't study."

you let go of his arm, shivering from the cold. gojo, of course, is not wearing a jacket, or even a little bit bothered by the air. "you're a terrible influence."

he grins. "i get it from you."

you shake your head, keeping the smile off of your face. "maybe some other time? when it's not freezing, and i don't have a big test?"

gojo looks like he wants to argue with you some more--which he usually does--but eventually, his grin ebbs into something simple and he nods. "okay, but you have to come next time i ask."

"no. what if i'm sick, or something?" you definitely would not put it past him to ask you as a method of torture.

"that's what alcohol is for." he sticks out his hand, too big and too sly.

but you relent, shaking with him, and rolling your eyes.

"okay, gojo. have fun. do not wake me up when you get home."

and you turn to walk away, but his hand catches your wrist. "what are you doing?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"...going home?"

he lets go of you and flicks your forehead. "you're not walking back by yourself," he says, like it's a crime. "c'mon."

and he falls into pace with you, even with his longer legs and fervent energy.

"this is stupid--" you start to complain, but gojo reaches for the strap of your bag, sliding it off of your shoulder. he then slings it on his own, and pulls you in a bit closer by the hem of your jacket.

he doesn't say anything, just shoves your hand in his pocket, and whistles as he walks you home.

its a couple of weeks later when you're standing at the door again, trying not to open it more than necessary.

but, really, how wide is too wide? will a half-opened door signal any longing? will he think that you want him back if you open it more than three inches to pass him his box of stuff that he'd left behind and take your key back?

how do you navigate the trade-off of a frog statue that will probably haunt your dreams till the end of time?

"key," you say, without any pleasantries, not bothering to even really look at him.

even though he looks just the same, your ex. still the lying cheater you'd almost fallen in love with.

is it wrong to miss his netflix password more than him?

"thanks," he says, and you've probably been standing there with him for thirty seconds when a head appears on your shoulder.

white hair gets in your eyes, and you try to push gojo away, but he's already intruded on this exchange and you know he's not going to leave.

"go away," you tell him, not very softly.

"hello," gojo holds his hand out over your shoulder, because, again, he is ridiculously tall. "i'm--"

"key," you say again, swatting his hand away.

your ex looks at your new roommate--with all of his charm and irritating sunglasses and perfectly shaped teeth--with obvious disdain. you want to push both of them out the door and live here by yourself forever, but unfortunately, living prices disagree.

so you grab the key from his hand, give him a bland smile, and slam the door with gojo's fingers still in between.

he pulls them back just in time, still almost on top of you, and smiles when you turn around with a scowl. "a friend of yours?" he asks, slyly. he's about as subtle as a third-grader.

"no."

he messes with your hair idly, pretending to fix it. "i noticed an obvious absence where our dancing frog used to be."

"i told you, that's not mine."

"so you gave it away?"

you cross your arms. he is far too close to you. "you told me it was hideous."

"it was," he nods, vehemently, and you know his eyes are grinning at you behind those dark shades. "but now there's an empty spot on that shelf."

"we can put your tongue there when i cut it out," you give him an innocent smile and walk past him to sit on the couch. your pocket burns with the key you put there, metal like an obvious stain on your skin.

it's not that you care about him anymore, really. you don't, not even when you lay alone at night and think about him. it's more that... he doesn't think about you. he didn't, and he wouldn't have, even if you were still together.

is it wrong to be wanted by someone whose opinion is worth about as much to you as a penny you could or could not pick up on the street? should you crave being cared about by someone as awful as him?

you want to throw his key in bleach. maybe take a dip yourself.

gojo follows you, throwing himself down on the couch, and brushing you as he does so. he is very used to this kind of proximity, and the annoyed look you give him. "so that was your ex?"

"yes."

there's a brief pause, and a nice person might leave it like that. might try to console you, tell you better off. but satoru gojo is not nice, and he probably never has been. "really?" he asks. then clicks his tongue.

you interrupt whatever obnoxious statement is supposed to follow: "if you're about to say that there are a lot of more eligible bachelors, including yourself, then i'm going to say that you should probably make a zillow account."

gojo pinches your thigh. "i would never say something like that."

you look at him, just barely able to make out the shape of his eyes when he's this close. "you told me that last week when i was complaining about dating apps."

"well, it was true then."

you roll your eyes.

"i wasn't going to say that anyway."

you hum, relaxing into the hold his legs begin to have on yours. despite his abrupt and terrible personality, gojo is very warm. and he's already intruded into so much of your space--your home, your head--that it almost feels normal.

with his thighs pushing against yours and his fingertips trailing up the back of your neck.

you should slap him away, but you don't.

the last person you cuddled with was the same man who gave you the greasy key in your pocket.

you look at gojo with inquisitive eyes. "really? no bad pickup line? you were going to say something meaningful?"

"would've blown your mind, but you interrupted..." he teases, and pulls on a strand of baby hair.

"whatever will i do now?"

his hand falls from your neck, and if you weren't as comfortable as you are currently, you might think about what he's doing.

like the fact that you haven't even questioned this, or his following you around, or the fact that he knew you needed someone to pull you away from that door.

you don't think about that, but maybe you should.

still, his hand wraps around your shoulder, and you slump against him without question.

"i was..." his voice is softer, calmer than you've maybe ever heard it. it should jolt you away from him. it should do anything but keep you planted on the couch right next to him. "i was just going to say that i'm glad he's an idiot."

"getting turned on by my pain?"

he laughs. "no, but, i mean, your pain my gain."

you don't even notice it when he slips off his glasses, his fingers curling around your forearm.

"where else would i find a roommate that threatens me with bodily harm?" he asks, right in your ear.

it's true enough, you guess. and at least for a moment, you don't want to rip off his arms.

and gojo mutters something that sounds like "stupid," but you aren't listening.

gojo has called in your agreement; that is the only reason you're sitting at the bar, watching him dance around with shoko--purposefully stepping on her toes--and sipping on some drink he ordered for you.

it's terribly sweet and reminds you of lotion but you drink it anyway. it's not like you bought it, and you're sure that gojo wont buy you anything else until finish it. plus it's giving you a light buzz, just enough to feel comfortable sitting there, and not like you want to run away.

it's not as busy as it was last time, the music slightly quieter, the air in the room less stiff. gojo seems less energized tonight--considering that he hasn't abandoned any of you to talk to the houseplant in the corner--even with the dancing.

which he is terrible at. it's like watching an eight-month-old learn how to stand. or a man trying to impress absolutely no one. his limbs move like they aren't even attached to his body.

"is he drunk?" you're asking suguru and nanami--who have been sitting there longer than you have. "i didn't see him order anything."

nanami laughs and suguru ruffles your hair. "that's satoru completely sober."

"...are you sure?"

"yeah, he doesn't usually drink. even that," he nods to your drink which you're sipping with a wince, "is too bitter for him."

you raise a brow, watching shoko frown at him, and then nudge him away. "he drank last time i came, though?"

suguru nods, looking away like he knows something you don't and nanami snorts.

"what?"

"he was nervous last time," nanami answers. he's got less than a smile on, but it's better than the frowns you've observed sitting next to him in class.

your brow furrows. "about what?"

suguru is about to answer, nudging nanami not very subtly, when the very topic of conversation pops up, bumping into you as he squeezes himself in between you and suguru. his presence is an interruption in itself, but he's smiling like he always does, acting like he's been there the whole time.

you might've pushed him away a week or two ago. now you just sigh and move a little so he can fit.

"did you miss me, sweetheart?" he asks you, leaning against suguru. "don't worry, i'll dance with you next."

"no, and i don't dance."

gojo rolls his eyes. "everyone dances."

you look pointedly between him and the group of people dancing in the middle of the room. an image of him almost tripping over shoko makes you smile. "well some people shouldn't."

suguru laughs and gojo grins even wider at you--his hair is slightly sweaty and his eyes are peering at you over the glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. "let's test that theory," he says, taking a step back. his tone is nothing less than suggestive. and his fingers wiggle towards you, beckoning for you to follow.

there's a twinge in your stomach and you adjust in your seat, frowning at him. "i told you that i don't dance."

"well, i do. and you owe me for last time."

you balk. "owe you for what? making sure you didn't get murdered on the street?"

gojo pouts, his face so unserious and completely genuine at the same time. "you made me dance all alone. you didn't even come watch."

"you left me--"

"just one dance?" he asks, leaning in towards you. his eyes are sparkling. "i'll get you another drink."

"you'll get me that anyway."

"i'll let you pick it this time."

"that's usually expected, you know?"

he ignores that, "c'mon," he pleads, "you know that you want to."

"i don't know that, actually."

and then someone coughs behind gojo and you realize that your friends have been listening to this entire interaction and that you'd completely forgotten they were there. how long has he been standing like that? just two inches away from your face?

"just go, y/n," shoko says, "put the rest of us out of our misery. i've been listening to him whine all night."

"hey--" gojo turns, his voice defensive.

but you take another sip of your drink, sighing as you stand up. "fine," you tell him, rolling your eyes when he turns to you with a smile. "one dance, and you can't ask me for anything else tonight."

his teeth are like rows of knives. sharp and inviting. "okay."

he holds his hand out for you again, and you take it, feeling that strange pull in the pit of your stomach.

it's probably just the alcohol, though.

you don't know how long you've been dancing with gojo.

it started with one dance where he didn't do anything except twirl you around and sway with you, like he'd accepted the fact that you weren't exactly light on your feet, singing along to the music in your ear, making snide remarks about where you'd placed your hands. moving them like pieces on a chess board.

his breath was hot on your ear. condensation on a glass.

and then you'd gradually moved to letting him lead you, after who knows how many songs, following his steps and not apologizing when your foot slammed against his, or when you bumped shoulders with him, probably creating marks on your skin.

and then his hands were on your hips, his chin resting against your shoulder, and it felt almost nice to be dancing with him. almost relaxing to forget momentarily about where you were and who you were with. it shouldn't surprise you that you're comfortable with him, but it does. there's no worry about the way you're looking at him or if anyone is watching the two of you--but then again, you might be slightly drunk.

gojo hasn't commented on how long the two of you have been dancing, and evidently, you've let the alcohol sway you into staying for more than just another song.

so now, with his lips on your ear, you're almost smiling into him. your heart is fast, and the adrenaline rush you're experiencing is a pleasant thing; if someone ripped out your heart right you wouldn't even notice.

"see?" gojo says, his voice just a murmur with all of the music swimming in your ears. "you're not so bad."

it sounds like something else to you.

"you won't be saying that in the morning," you tell him, stepping on his toes, but he doesn't pull back or move too quickly. if you thought rationally about his movements you might notice that everything he's doing is slow; like you're an animal he's trying not to scare.

"i'm used to it," he pulls back a little bit. "shoko does that too."

"'cause you deserve it."

he laughs and leans in, so you follow him.

are you just swaying now? or is he leading you in something more complex? a dance you've never heard of, or a simple in and out?

you don't know, and you really don't care.

after a moment, you sigh. "i've never danced with anyone before," you whisper to him, almost like not saying the words at all. it might be a lie, you're not quite sure.

your words are just thoughts now with no sort of intervention between your brain and your mouth. intoxication fills your lungs.

"really?"

"mhm," you hum, "no one's ever asked me."

"i don't believe you," his voice might be teasing, or serious, or he might be barking at you.

you laugh anyway. gojo's hands are firm against your skin. he feels kind of hazy, like a dream. so you laugh again.

"you okay?"

"i think i might be a little drunk."

he snorts, his breath short. "really? i didn't think you'd be a lightweight."

"you're a lightweight."

"yeah, but you already knew that. i only drink when we come here, anyway. nanami doesn't like having to drag me home."

"you're heavy," you agree, looking up at him. you can see his eyelashes from under his glasses. you can see his tongue as he moves it, and the tip of his nose. you can almost feel it when he swallows.

"sorry," he teases. his face looks different under these lights. it looks different when you're looking at him this close.

"you're kinda pretty," the words fall from your mouth as you think them, and you grin. "huh."

it shouldn't be an odd realization, but it is. his skin is almost translucent, and his mouth is sinful. his eyes are wide and bright and satoru gojo could be a sculpture if he wasn't a man.

gojo looks down at you, his brows raised. "you just noticed?"

"i don't look at you a lot."

"oh, please," he shakes his head. "i've caught you staring."

"i only stare when i'm worried that you're a robot planted by aliens or something. you say weird things."

he laughs, and his hands squeeze your waist. he could stab you in the back right now and it wouldn't even matter. you're not even worried about it. he could flirt with you all night and you don't think you'd quite mind.

you giggle at the thought, heart beating fast with every breath that comes from him.

"what?"

"you're not a bad roommate, you know?" you ask him, but maybe you're asking yourself.

"i'm not?"

"no. you're actually... kinda considerate. my old roommate--my ex--he never wanted to go anywhere with me. he wouldn't have asked me to dance."

"why not?"

"i think he thought i was stuck up. or embarassing. or not worth it," you breathe, almost airly, the words are true but they don't matter to you. not like this, pressed up against him. "i don't know."

gojo's brow furrows. "how?"

your brows furrow. "how what?"

"how could he think you're not worth it?" he repeats, and you laugh back. because it's a joke.

"you'd have to ask him."

"i don't think i'll ever be talking to him," he answers, voice rough. "it wouldn't be good for either of us. and i don't trust people with such terrible taste."

you giggle at the thought of the frog sculpture, the disgusted look on gojo's face. you can almost see through him.

"you shouldn't," you answer, not even thinking.

there's a moment where the room is quiet, everyone inhaling at the same time, and then exhaling. you feel like you fit here, somehow. like everything is moving at just the right place. this silence is a comforting feeling, the bubbles bursting in your stomach reiterating it.

"hey," gojo says, interrupting that feeling.

"what?"

"you're a good roommate, too. you're not stuck up. or embarassing."

"i'm not?"

he smiles at you. "well, you're a little mean."

you smile back. "only to you, satoru."

his face drops, but you don't notice. you lean against his chest again, your eyes fluttering shut. if you were focused enough, you could feel his heartbeat. but you don't. and you don't watch as he swallows. as his voice falters, for only a single second.

but you do look at him when he says, "my friends like you."

"they do?"

he laughs, pushing his sunglasses back up on his face. "wasn't it obvious?"

you shake your head. you're not sure how long you've been standing with him, or if it even matters. you're not even sure if you're still in the bar, or your bed, being covered with your blanket, tucked in by gentle hands.

how long has it been now?

"i like you too," gojo whispers, "just so you know."

and you could be at home, with your roommate. you could be right next to him. it doesn't matter, because you only whisper, "good," and then it's all gone.

when you wake up the next morning, gojo is already laughing at you.

your headache is a curse. your mind is in shambles. and your body aches with the manipulation of only one person.

you hate your roommate and his terrible taste in drinks and that he doesn't even say anything when you slump against the counter, not even bothering to make fun of you or complain about how terrible you are when you're drunk.

he just smiles easily, ruffling your hair.

and when he starts to cook some bacon in the pan, you don't say anything, but you go and stand next to him, letting him hold you up.

there are no words. only the popping of oil in a pan.

and that feeling, of course. because it wasn't the alcohol.

so maybe satoru gojo is your friend. you will not admit this to anyone aloud, but you concede a little bit in your head, because it's a fragile place there, and you're a terrible liar.

and so maybe you hang out with him sometimes.

it's not just the game nights or study sessions anymore. you sit on the couch and play with your phone and he sits down next to you. he'll rub your feet, or massage your legs and you let him.

only because he's kinda good at it, of course.

and sometimes you'll turn on a movie and he'll appear out of nowhere, complaining about whatever you picked, but laying down nonetheless. and after several minutes he'll move closer to you, resting his head on your thigh. and you might play with his hair, but only because it's unreasonably soft.

and some mornings when you wake up and make yourself breakfast, not even trying to be quiet, you'll make a little extra. but it's not for him, it's just a coincidence.

and he stops by the library on his way home from suguru's, or some girl's house, and the two of you will walk home together, talking about class, or the weather, or whatever gojo wants. you let him do this, because it's usually dark outside, and you don't like walking home alone.

and if he barges into your room sometimes--obviously not knocking--you only complain a little bit. and then you let him lay in your bed and mess with your things.

but only because it's the easier option, of course.

and you've missed the feeling of having someone near. and satoru gojo is easy to be around.

"gojo," you gasp, as soon as the door opens in your face. and then you scowl. "don't you knock?"

he pushes you so he can move past, raising a brow at you. "i live here." his hands are empty, and he's not wearing a coat again. just a weird button-up probably more expensive than your share of the rent. how he's survived over two decades, you're not sure.

your brows furrow at him. "well, you could give some warning if you're going to kick open the door. what if you broke my nose?"

"well, why were you standing right in front of the door when i kicked it?" gojo mimics, flicking you away, then looking down to your hands where your wallet and keys are piled up. "you going somewhere?"

"to the store."

"it's eleven."

"why thank you for that update, gojo. i really appreciate it," and then you move beside him to open the door.

but gojo grabs your hand, making sure to roll his eyes at you where you can see it, and pulls you away so he can step in front of the door. "what could you need from the store right now?"

"i need stuff."

he crosses his arms, uncharacteristically stern. "like what?"

"stuff. girl stuff. you wouldn't get it."

he gasps, mouth dropping. "oh no, did i steal too many of your tampons again?"

"first of all, that's against the apartment rules, so you better hope not. second of all, please move," you glare at him. "i need to hurry."

"you can't leave right now."

"i believe there's such a thing as free will..." you try and push him away, but he doesn't budge. "and you're not the boss of me."

"it's too late for you to walk to the store. go tomorrow."

you cross your arms. "when have i ever listened to you?" you ask him, feeling that familiar irritation crawl up your skin.

but then gojo is pulling your arms apart and resting them at your sides and saying "stop that," as a gentle chide. and that irritation molds. you push his hands away.

you want to push his hands off of the edge of the earth just so that he'll never touch you again.

"seriously, gojo, i need to go. they close at midnight."

"you can't walk to the store by yourself in the dark."

"i can do whatever i want."

"then i'm locking you in your room until tomorrow. you're grounded."

you poke his shoulder. you can't decide if he's serious or not. his voice is always teasing, and you can't see enough of his eyes. and you can't trust a single thing he says. "when did you become so overbearing?" you ask him, trying not to grind your teeth.

"when i realized how weak you are."

"weak?" you balk at him. "i'm not weak. please retract that sentence before i accidentally punch you."

"you can't even push me away from the door. i'll take my chances with your fists."

"that's because you're irritating me," you tell him, as you try to do it again. "anger distracts me."

he laughs at you, leaning even further against the door.

"gojo," you whine, trying to pinch him away instead. "stop being an ass. just get out of the way."

he holds a hand to his chest, offended. "i am showing concern about your safety," he claims, shaking his head at you.

"you are ruining my mood."

"oh, good."

you scowl. "move. right now."

"that was very intimidating," he grins at you, "but maybe try again."

you groan and try to stab him with your key, which he pushes away, still smiling, still completely the worst.

"i--" you sigh, "i don't like you very much."

he snorts.

then you pout at him, fluttering your eyelashes. "please, gojo. i'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"what is that?"

you frown. "what?"

"what's wrong with your face?"

you throw your arms up, shaking your head. then you mutter another thing about hating him under your breath and finally turn away. you set your keys and your wallet on the counter, pouting as you sit down on the couch.

gojo is there a moment later, laughing at you. "was that supposed to be convincing?"

"don't talk to me. ever again."

you shake your head, fed up with him and everything about this living situation. how are you locked in your apartment right now?

gojo tilts his head back, and then pauses for a moment.

"then how am i supposed to ask if you want to come with me to the store?" he asks, nonchalantly. "i need some stuff."

and you should be angry at him--you should probably break one of his fingers or cut his hair off in his sleep. you should tell him that you hate his company and that if he ever tells you what to do again--

but instead, you jump up from the couch, smiling at him. "let's go," you say, quickly, before you change your mind.

and you don't get to see it when gojo smiles back at you, softly.

"hey," he whispers, "you shouldn't sleep here."

gojo is shaking your shoulder gently, his breath on your face, his voice soft--even in the haze of disrupted sleep. there's a warm feeling in your belly as he speaks to you, an unknowing smile on your face.

"hmm?" you answer, trying to remember who you are and why you're here. who he is.

"it's almost midnight. what are you doing on the couch?" gojo is helping you sit up. his hands are ridiculously warm, and you don't think about how nice they feel on the bare skin of your back.

"gojo?"

he laughs. "the one and only. c'mon, i'll tuck you in."

"did you just get home?" you must still be sleeping, because his hands are so soft right now. and his voice is so quiet--like the creaking of an old house.

"yeah. are you going to get up?" he's kneeling in front of you, and his face is bare. you almost want to laugh at how bright his hair is even in the dark.

"where were you?"

he shakes his head, smiling up at you, and moves from the floor. "c'mon, sit up," he beckons, trying to get you to move your head from its place. you wince. eventually, he gives up and your heart almost disappears when he picks you up, tapping your legs so that you'll wrap them around his waist.

you do it, but only because you don't want to fall.

"why are you so tall?" you complain as he carries you to your room, feeling much more awake when you're this high in the air.

gojo snorts. "i'll take that as a thank you," he whispers in your ear and sets you on your bed. then he sits on the edge and takes your socks off, pulling the covers out from under you. his movements are slow as he covers every inch of skin he can see, his breath the only sound between the two of you.

it's colder when his hands move, and he looks at you for a moment as if trying to make sure he's satisfied with his job.

"are you going to make fun of me for this in the morning?"

gojo grins, squeezing your leg as he stands up. "probably. but only a little."

"okay," you yawn, blinking as he backs up towards the door.

"night, sweetheart," he whispers to you, and then a flash of hair is all you see before your door is closed and you drift back to sleep.

and in the morning you wake up and can't remember how you got in bed. gojo doesn't say a thing.

satoru gojo can say so much without saying a single thing.

when he burst into your room--surprising you because you hadn't realized he was home--throwing himself on your bed and mumbling something about hating his life, you didn't say a word.

and he'd sat there for ten minutes while you typed out a paper on your laptop, glancing over to him every couple of minutes, slightly worried because he hadn't moved an inch.

you've seen a lot of his moods recently. you've seen him excited about some movie you didn't understand, exhausted after a long day of classes, angry when suguru and you leave him out of a joke. but most of that, you assume, is just him being himself. every feeling he has is probably seven times larger than the average person's.

but now that he's groaning into your bed, you can tell, just from the way his body deflates, that there's something wrong. you could see it when he walked in the room, and felt it because he'd told you he was getting dinner with his parents tonight.

but if you know one thing about him, it's that he won't talk about it if you ask.

because after a couple of weeks of spending more and more time with him, you'd quickly realized that you didn't actually know much about his life. he doesn't tell any stories about his childhood, or high school years--minus the ones that he tried to suffocate suguru for letting slip. he doesn't mention his parents much, and when he does, it's nothing but the bare minimum. he mentions classes so offhandedly that you hadn't even known how extensive his studies were until suguru was teasing him about an award he'd gotten a couple of years ago.

he could talk to you for hours on end, but he wouldn't say anything.

so after realizing this, you'd resorted to asking suguru about it.

that night, gojo was asleep on the floor between your feet. his hand was under his head, and he was snoring loud enough for you to notice. you'd sat down to watch a movie with him after he'd claimed that you and suguru were losers for being tired at this hour and that he was the youngest of you all.

suguru only smiled a little bit at your question.

"satoru keeps an infinite amount of space between him and everyone else," he'd said softly, into the warm air of your apartment. "even with me, and i've known him since we were kids. his family..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

you'd frowned. "what?"

"he's always been too much for them, in a way. i mean, you know, he is too much most of the time. but he does all of it purposefully; the arrogance, the bravado. i don't know... i think he just wants to control whatever image everyone has of him. to the extent that his personality is based on pushing people away, just so he can figure out who's actually going to stick around."

you'd watched him then, with his fluttering eyelashes--his sunglasses lying on the ground next to him--and his bright hair. the gentle movement of his lips as he dreamt. he was softer like this, less forceful, less of a burden, and more of a boy.

and beautiful, of course, but that's an offhanded thought you wouldn't acknowledge.

"so, he doesn't talk to you about--" the words felt wrong, and you almost felt guilty for talking about him like this, with his best friend. but still. "--important stuff?"

"he talks to me about a lot of things. but, no, not really. i get a long-winded rant sometimes, but not often."

"then how are you supposed to know anything about him?"

suguru smiled at you, looking between you and gojo like there was a secret he didn't want to tell. he sighed. "satoru doesn't really tell me any of the important stuff because we've known each other for so long. i understand how his family is because i've watched him deal with them. i can guess how he's feeling based on his expression. but for people he hasn't known as long, like you, getting to know him is like i-spy."

suguru didn’t need to elaborate. you got it.

like trying to find little hints of him hidden between all of the mess. you'd snorted and agreed.

and it feels even more true now, with him cowering in your blankets. but still, you say nothing.

you get it, to a certain degree. vulnerability was one of the feelings you liked to push away; secrets were only supposed to be coveted by you. getting close to people was a dangerous thing, risky in its own way.

but, thinking that gojo doesn't trust you--couldn't trust you... it's more irritating than it should be. and maybe that's just because you're arrogant, and think yourself to be trustworthy. or maybe it's because you trust him, in your own unique way, even with all of his too much and extremeness.

you don't say that to him though, just like he doesn't say anything to you.

"hey," you push him with a foot. "are you drooling on my comforter?"

there's a moment of silence, then gojo rolls over. "not a lot."

you roll your eyes at him and type another sentence--a collection of words that have nothing to do with the actual essay you're writing, naturally--waiting for him to say something else.

and, predictably, he does. "why aren't you paying attention to me?"

"i'm busy, gojo."

"no, you're not."

"i am doing homework."

he looks up at you. his sunglasses are somewhere on your floor. "well, then you're definitely not busy," he grins.

you swat away a hand that tries to steal your computer.

"aren't you supposed to be at dinner?" you ask him, trying to seem like you don't care about the answer.

he sighs again. "canceled."

"why?"

"my dad had a meeting or something."

"oh."

you let the silence wade for a minute or two, trying to be discreet when you watch his face for any signs of discontent. but gojo just has his eyes closed. his hands above his head.

eventually, you nudge him again. "did you eat anything?"

he shakes his head.

"do you want me to make you something?"

an eye opens. he turns over and rests his head on his hands, squinting at you. "are you being nice to me?"

"not intentionally."

he snorts, poking you, almost in awe. "you are."

"i'm just trying to make sure you don't die, okay? who knows what you've eaten today."

he crawls up your bed, sitting right next to you so he can rest his head on your shoulder. and you should push him off, but you don't. "it's okay. i'm not very hungry."

"that's not what i asked."

gojo laughs against you, his hair brushing against your neck.

you shouldn't say anything more. you shouldn't even entertain him and his antics, and you shouldn't even care (but you do. for some, stupid, infuriating reason).

so you look at him, and your voice is soft when you ask, "you okay?" to him, hoping that it doesn't seem too intrusive. wishing that you didn't actually care if he was or not.

gojo's eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you get that feeling again.

that feeling in your stomach that makes you want to jump away from him. that makes your hands want to shake, and your voice fade. that feeling that you know--too well, too much--but can't get rid of.

like an itch you're not really supposed to scratch.

gojo swallows. "yeah," he answers, with no grin, no conceit. "i'm okay."

and it shouldn't feel like a relief to hear, but it does. you nod, look away, and go back to your computer. back to your actual life, which shouldn't have any satoru gojo in it.

but a minute later he adds: "i'd be better if you made me dinner, though."

and you pull on his hair a little. you try to pretend like his smile doesn't fill you with butterflies.

this shouldn't be happening.

it's the only reasonable thought running through your brain at the moment. the only echo you can discern, the only words you can make out in the jumble of anxiety and horror running through your mind.

he should not be this close.

gojo had only picked you up from work once again, his easy smile meeting yours as soon as he walked through the door--you'd been waiting, wondering when he was going to show up.

at seven-thirty he was there, letting in the cold air and sitting in the seat next to yours, complaining about the fact that you had a job that diverted your attention away from him while you rolled your eyes.

he sat there for the half an hour remaining in your shift, distracting you.

two months ago you would've kicked him out. would've called some make-believe security.

but you just listened while he talked to you about space theories that didn't make any sense.

and then he'd grabbed your bag for you, turning off the lights before you could, pushing in chairs while you organized the reception desk.

and his hand grabbed yours before you thought to notice--swinging along while the two of you began the walk home.

and halfway there, gojo stopped, looking up at something. "hey," he'd poked you. "look at the stars."

you'd done it, begrudgingly, squinting. "i can count, like, three."

"there's at least five."

"why did you stop me to do this? it's cold."

"because they look nice," he argues, looking down at you. "you have no eye for beauty."

and, really, you might've agreed with him. you might've pushed him away from you and told him to hurry up and you might've not cared at all.

but you could see his eyes, just a little bit, behind his sunglasses. and his smile was alabaster, and that feeling--that gasping for breath, trying to hold on to anything feeling--was there again.

and it was poking you. like a push in some direction. like a laugh telling you that you were too afraid to do anything.

you were looking at him. right at his face and the only thing you wanted to say was that he was wrong.

he was wrong because at least you knew that he looked beautiful.

but those words wouldn't leave your lips--that thought couldn't leave your head--so you were only staring at him. wishing that you'd never let him into your apartment and that he hadn't started becoming a person to you.

it wasn't fair like this.

"what?" he whispered, his smile dropping, like he could tell there was something wrong with you. like he knew you that well.

if he'd kept on smiling, you wouldn't have done it. you wouldn't have pushed up on your toes and leaned into him, and you wouldn't have kissed him like you did.

like you're doing.

and it would've been fine because you never would've started this knowing that it would eventually have to stop.

and even though it takes him less than a second to kiss you back--his lips molding to yours like an automatic reaction--you know that you shouldn't be doing this.

that you can't be doing this. not with him. not like this.

so when gojo's hands move to your waist, his breath even in your mouth, you push at his chest. and you want to run away.

"i'm--" you swallow, trying not to taste him, the bubblegum flavor of him, and almost flinch away. "i'm sorry."

gojo's mouth is frozen from where he stands two feet away. his hands are in the air like he doesn't know what to do with them. "you..."

and you've never heard him speechless before. just the idea of it makes you blurt out whatever comes to mind. "i shouldn't have done that," you tell him, and, "i didn't mean to--i don't--" you shake your head. "sorry. i'm sorry. can we forget about this? can we get home because i'm really cold?"

"you kissed me," gojo says, so simply.

the words are another blow to your heart. you were hoping that he wouldn't have noticed.

and wince and watch him, his face as it shifts, moving with each thought in his head.

"gojo, i'm really--"

"no," he interrupts, taking a step towards you.

"what?"

"that's not my name."

you frown. "yes it is?"

he shakes his head. "no, it's satoru. you've said it before, you know. you should keep saying it."

"when have i said it?" you ask, momentarily blinded by how he demands this. who is he to demand anything?

"when you were drunk."

you scoff. "i'm not just going to call you by your first name cause you want me to," you tell him, "who do you think i am?"

and then satoru laughs, shaking his head at you, his grin full-force on his face. "are you serious? you kissed me and now you don't want to call me by my first name?"

you freeze. "i said i was sorry about that," you say, weakly.

you feel like who you've always felt around him. not as easy, not as cool, never as smooth. you feel like a child caught doing something they're not supposed to. you want to run away from him, but he knows where you live.

"you're sorry?"

"i didn't mean to."

he quirks a brow. "you didn't mean to?"

"it was an accident?"

he takes another step closer. "it was an accident?"

"are you just going to keep repeating everything i say?" you ask, voice hard. this must be a dream.

satoru shakes his head at you. "no, but i have a question."

"...okay."

"if i try to kiss you right now, are you going to try and murder me? i know that we're away from the apartment right now, but it would really ruin the mood."

you stare at him.

it must be answer enough because he steps forward and he kisses you again. but this time, it feels less mechanical. his lips are soft and smooth as they push against yours--and he pushes like he's demanding something from you. like he knows more about what you can give than you do.

and he grins against you like he's doing everything exactly right.

but when satoru pulls back, your eyes stay shut. you try and banish the feeling in your stomach from your body, but it doesn't respond to idle threats.

"we shouldn't do this," you whisper to him. you don't open your eyes. you don't want to see his face and fall victim to another one of his schemes.

"why not?"

"the last time i kissed one of my roommates..." you imply, hoping that you don't have to tell him that you're scared.

"oh, right," he brushes some hair from your face. he has not moved an inch away from you. "i forgot that you're experienced."

"wasn't it obvious?"

he laughs, and then nudges your cheek with a finger. "look at me."

you shake your head.

"c'mon, just a little."

his voice is so soft. satoru is whispering like it's just for you. and you've never heard him like this and you don't think you want to see him.

"please, sweetheart?" he asks, one last time, and you have to. if only to put yourself out of your own misery. "good. now listen--"

"don't tell me what to do."

he rolls his eyes. "listen," he repeats. "i know you don't like me very much. and i know that you only keep me around for my rent money and my pretty face--"

you kinda want to hit him.

"--but i've wanted to kiss you for weeks. and i'm not good at the..." he swallows, blinking just briefly. "all of the telling stuff, but i want to be. with you. for you."

you're not sure if that's the end, or if it's the beginning. your eyes are stuck on his smile, and you're not listening to anything he said.

he's very close right now. so accessible. and it's just another reason to want to push him away.

satoru clears his throat, nudging your head with his nose. "and i'm tired of shoko and suguru calling me a coward, so it'd be great if you'd mention that you kissed me first."

your brows furrow. "you told shoko and suguru?"

"i didn't say anything," he almost swears. "they tricked me into admitting it."

"when?"

"...the day after i introduced you to them."

you pull away to observe his face. "really?"

he groans. "stop looking at me like that," he says, "it's mean."

you almost smile at him again. then close your eyes. "okay."

"havent you listened to anything i've said to you?" he asks, rhetorically. "i flirt with you every day."

"you flirt with everything."

"mmm, true," he leans his chin against your head, breathing you in. "now that i've poured my heart out for you, can we go home? it's cold out here, and i'd rather make out on our couch than that bench over there."

"who said anything about making out?"

"please," he wraps an arm around your shoulder, and smiles down at you--with all of the typical swagger--and maybe this time you let him.

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hermetiqa · 1 month

Text

What study habits will help you this school year?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK | MASTERLIST

PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

Pile 1

The study habits that will help you this year are the ones that will keep you engaged in your lessons and courses/subjects. Something that keeps your mind active and keeps you interested in learning. Be curious about what you're learning. Take studying as something positive and don't take it as a responsibility. Have the mindset that you're privileged enough to study and learn these stuff. Be in a state of wanting to learn, not needing to learn. Also, leave your "failures" behind, such as low grades or not being able to get a perfect score on your exam. Instead, focus on what you lacked that caused that result.

Study techniques:

Make flash cards

Use white boards (the bigger, the better)

Act like a teacher, pretend that you're teaching

Similar to the previous one, you can also pretend that you're reporting the lesson in class

Make mind maps with only your knowledge and check what you missed after

Pile 2

I'm getting a lot of energy here from you, Pile 2. First of all, STOP CRAMMING. You might have survived the last school year by cramming but it won't help you anymore, especially this time. You need to study in advance especially when you know you have exams coming up. Stop studying the night before the day of the exam. Also, leave the past behind. Let go of your "friends" who distract you from studying and just want to go out to parties. Change your routine. Your previous routine could be a success for you but it drains you. Find some balance between studying and leisure.

Study techniques:

Study with your friends together

Put notes on your walls so you can look at them anytime and you'll learn them naturally

If you exercise and you happen to have a treadmill, put notes on the wall in front of you so you can read as you exercise (walking or jogging)

Similarly, you can record yourself reading your notes and listen to your record while jogging outside or exercising

Read your notes outloud

Pile 3

So here's the studious pile. I'm seeing that you tend to study hard, not study smart. And that's your mistake. You should study smart, not study hard. Stop memorizing and start understanding your lessons more. Stop rewriting your notes over and over until you reach your desired perfection of your notes, the "aesthetic" that you want. Instead, do your best to write well when you're taking notes in class. That way, you won't have to rewrite them at home. When reading your notes, it's best for you to use different colors of highlighters. Also when someone offers you some help in a lesson that you struggle with, accept it, even if you only struggle a little. Lastly, enjoy learning! Don't stress yourself too much about it and overthink you'll fail.

Study techniques:

Don't stay up all night to study and wake up early in the morning to review, especially to recall what you've already studied

Never ever cram and always finish the easiest tasks first

Drink coffee when studying (only if you don't have health issues or you weren't advised that you should avoid coffee)

Keep on rereading your notes and rewrite what you remember, then keep track of what you tend to forget

Make tests for yourself or look for tests online

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maxiscoolongg · 10 months

Text

PATRICK HOCKSETTER HEADCANNONS

——

☆ Lets bfr yall probably became friends because you were tutoring him on math because he is failing in school😭😭

★ like the teacher would pull you and Patrick aside after class and be like "Y/n you are going to be tutoring Patrick" you were stuned tbh

☆ Patrick however was really happy or something. When you guys were tutoring he kept asking questions about you.

★ You guys got surprisingly close.

☆ He gives you so much nicknames😭 (Ex: doll, dollface, pretty, darling, peaches)

★ he is really affectionate like REALLY affectionate.

——

You were at your locker getting your books for next period until you felt to hands go into your hoops of your shorts you giggled a little as you said "Hello pat" you said sweetly. That same sweet voic that made him fall in love with you "Hey dollface, I was thinking we watch a movie at your house?" He asked as his hands traveled to your waist as his head went onto your shoulder as you looked at him "Mm.. Maybe, I have dance after school" you said as you turned around

"Awh, come one can't you just skip one class, prettyface" He said flirty "I guess I can, but if my mom yells at me I will blame you" You said smiling a tiny bit as he smirked.

——

☆ He was the one who confessed to you for sure.

★ he LOVES watching horror movies.

☆ He for sure loves scream (Pretened it was released then)

★ Loves the way you get closer to him everytime a murder scene pops up

☆ If you don't flinch he love if you rant about it.

——

You guys were watching a movie and a murder scene popped up, he looked at you a little as you got closer in fear he watched as your brows came together as the character made a stupid decision "Oh my God!- she is so stupid! Why wouldn't she run the other way!" You yelled as he chuckled a little. He ADORED the way you ranted about movies he loves it so much.

——

★ Loves your lips, thighs, waist, ass,

☆ Definitely whispers stuff in your ear during school like ge would wishper stuff to make you laugh or to make you flustered

★ Your scared of the Bowers gang. Without a doubt, they are nice to you (Vic is the nicest) but still. You are friends with the losers and the keep telling you about them but you say "They're nice to me though!"

☆ Patrick definitely stalks you and takes pictures without permission. He loves the pictures of you drawing in class,

——

YANDERE PATRICK HC

♡ you thought the relationship was all lovey dovey? No way.

♥︎ this man is so fucking overprotective, to the point its not even funny anymore

♡ if your asking me bro probably started stalking you in the 6th grade💀🙏🏻

♥︎ anyway, he probably planned the whole tutoring thing cause believe it or not he is actually probably really smart.

♡ teachers are SCARED of patrick, bro can practically get anything he wants so be careful my guy.

♥︎ If your hanging out with one of friends? Nope. Not any more! Patrick can keep you company,

♡ loves and I mean LOVES when he takes photos of you when you don't know, like bro will definitely pull a Johnathan byers and take photos of you changing. Not even kidding.

——

"I'm going to bed night ma!" You said to your mom as you gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked in your room closing the door behind you as you walked to your closet and took off your top to grab a pajama shirt

"God.." Patrick whispered from outside of your window, he was far but not the far, he was far enough you couldn't see him. He took a quick photo and almost chocked on his breath when he saw you bare naked. "Fucking gorgeous, darling" he whispered to himself but then again towards you

——

♥︎ bro is a sneaky mother fucker, steals everything.

♡ think a bracelet of yours looks nice? His now. No he doesn't do it because he wants it, he did it because he thinks you looked good wearing it and now he wants it so he can have a piece of you on him.

(EDITED March, 31st 2023.)

THATS ALL I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

#bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #patrick hocksetter imagine

746 notes · View notes

yuyusboyfriend · 1 year

Note

i’m no writer but i’m always having massive amounts of brainrot so may i offer the idea of professor!yunho and student!reader,, yk, the whole reader can’t focus in class bc prof jeong is just so hot and he catches on but doesn’t do anything about it until they’re actually on the brink of failing the class so he calls them up to his office and then the rest is history

im sorry im a sucker for power imbalances hides back in my corner

Oh my god. Professor Yunho brain rot is so real. THANKS SM ANON FOR THE ASK🫶

Meet me after class.

pairing: professor!yunho × reader

wordcount: 2,6k

warnings: aged up Yunho (late twenties +), reader early 20s, non idol au, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest), dom!Yunho/sub!reader, use of pet names (baby, star, sweetheart, tiny,) use of Sir, cunnilingus (pussy, once again, ate), rough sex, LOTS of praise, yunhos a sweetheart, also a beast iykwim, lmk if theres anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Every single day you attended classes like the exemplary student you are. You've always had decent enough grades, whether you honestly liked the lesson or just crammed the last second before exams; you've never "flopped" as your friends would say. It stayed this way until you started taking classes taught by the most stunning man you'd ever seen in your lifetime, Professor Jeong Yunho. When you walked into class for the first time 30 minutes early to claim your seat, you had already been beaten to the front rows by numerous other students. Weird, you thought, most people flock to the other end of the classroom—until you saw the professor arranging his papers at the front of the small lecture hall.

You stood frozen on the steps, staring at the older man. His obsidian-black hair fell just above his eyes, moving against his batting eyelashes as he concentrated on whatever he was reading at his desk. His discarded blazer is on the back of his chair, giving you a full view of his toned back and rounded shoulders in his white dress shirt. You're pretty sure your underwear was already ruined once you looked at his rolled-up sleeves, seeing his muscled forearms tensing while he fiddled with his silver rings. You felt relieved seeing no wedding ring though.

His dark eyes scanned the class as he noticed more students flooding through the lecture room doorway, pausing once they landed on your awestruck figure. His deep gaze was what finally broke you out of your trance, forcing your legs to start walking towards your seat, as near to the front desk as you could get. You made a mental note to arrive earlier next time, even if you had to sit between 20 other thirsty students trying to get time with the professor.

You found that Jeong Yunho's class wasn't impossible (on top of his good-looking self, he was a profoundly competent teacher), but it also wasn't for the weak who only came to eye up the man teaching. That being said, the class dropped from seventy-odd students to 40 in the first few months, and the way your grades were going, you were next in line.

Every class, Professor Yunho would drag his eyes over your form as you tapped away on your laptop, making your stomach quiver and your head dazed. As more students left, he gave the remaining more attention, walking around to see if anyone needed help.

"Y/n? How's your work going?" he spoke over your shoulder just above a whisper to not distract anyone else in your area. His knuckles brushed against your back accidentally while gripping your chair, sending involuntary shivers across your body. You begged the man hadn't noticed how your body reacted to him just being in your vicinity for your self-preservation. He had. He always sensed your gaze on him while he was teaching; you weren't very secretive about it either, seeing as everyone else was looking down, typing out his words.

"It's- I'm good! I mean the work, not me. It's fine." You stumbled over your words, scared to see his expression at the fool you just made of yourself. You were stunned to see the corners of his mouth turned upwards, slightly eyes soft looking back at you. A simple smile from him managed to rip the air from your lungs so effortlessly.

In the short months that he had been your teacher, you became infatuated with the man. When you weren't in his classes, all you could think about was him. You wondered what he had for breakfast, what he was wearing today—although, not much was left to the imagination as your friends snapped pictures of him crossing campus and sent them to you. It annoyed you that they would do it without his consent, yet you still saved every photo to the locked collection on your phone. Not to mention your dreams lately; God, as if your mind wasn't a powerful enough tool to daydream with, your dreams went above and beyond; You'd wake up and need to hop in the shower from the mess you had made in your sleeping state.

The current reoccurring dream was you bent over his desk, his hand on the back of your neck and his hips ramming into yours. He grunted as he kept up his relentless pace. You found yourself almost drooling at the reminiscence of it again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. You sat in the campus café, trying to refine your most recent assignment for his class; Your grade in his class was still at rock bottom—just then the little bell above the door signalled the arrival of another customer.

Oh. Professor Jeong Yunho strode through the door, his jacket in his arm and a backpack strap on his shoulder. He carried on to the counter ordering "the usual" and sat at a table near the window. The outside light framed his face perfectly as he watched people pass by, sipping on his cold coffee before pulling out a small stack of papers to mark. You had forgotten why you were even there until some people stood in front of your line of vision, forcing you to redirect your gaze. Fuck, the assignment you thought knowing it was due in 20 minutes, indicated by the sight of Yunho walking out of the door, not before nodding at the baristas- and you. His eyes did a quick scan of you before he walked away in the direction of your next class.

You had barely managed to finish it and make it to class on time, knowing you had hardly gone over your writing to check for errors.

"Y/n, Could you meet me after class in my office? I would like to discuss your current grades." His deep tone made you nearly fall out of your seat; you were so concentrated on your thoughts on how good he looked today, that you hadn't noticed him approaching you. You felt your stomach sink at his serious expression. Had you gotten too distracted by the gorgeous man, so badly that you were getting kicked out of his lectures? He walked away to start the lesson before you had a chance to even ask for specifics. This was going to be a long few hours.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" you looked at the man sitting at his desk, like a king on his throne. Even now, you could only think about how fine Yunho looked with his tie slightly loosened and sleeves rolled up showing off his biteable forearms. The way his long fingers tapped on his desk as he looked over at your form standing in his office door frame.

"Yes, close the door behind you and take a seat, please." Your heart raced as you sat across him meeting his gaze once again. "So your grades have been pretty low all semester y/n, but now it's reaching a point where you're going to fail if you carry on." He paused to stand up, before continuing," I've spoken to your other professors and checked your files, You've always had good grades, so what's got you so distracted in my class, hm?" he leans against the desk, the same side as you now and tilts his head. What do you even say? Sorry teach I'm so horny for you please do me against every surface in this room?

"I- I'm not sure, I'll get onto it though sir and-" You feel his presence step closer to you.

"You're not sure, are you? That's interesting, because I'm pretty sure I know what's got your little head so busy, so I'll ask again. What's got you so distracted, sweetheart?" He towers over you staring deep into your soul, feeling as though he can see every dirty thought flying around your brain. He brings his large hand down to your face, softly gripping your chin to stop you from averting your gaze again.

"...You." You whisper under your breath, opting to close your eyes, so you don't have to face him.

"Quick learner." Was the last thing he said before he pushed his face forward to meet your lips. As soon as you registered what was happening, you stood up and deepened the kiss you had been so desperate for. He gripped your hips and shoved you against the desk as his tongue swiped along your lip demanding access. Your breathing had become heavy and unstable, not feeling all that attached to oxygen now that you were attached to Yunho's soft lips. He broke the kiss to swipe his pen holders and a couple of papers off of his desk to replace them with your ass. Truthfully, Yunho had already packed all of his belongings away for the day, hoping that this would be the outcome of your visit.

You rutted against his body, back arching to get friction anywhere as he started toying with the waistband of your clothes, not pulling them down yet. "What do you need tiny? You need my cock? My fingers? My tongue? Tell me what you need baby." His voice had dropped into the sexiest, deepest tone; you could feel it in your body as he held himself against you.

"All. Everything." You huff out, still trying to gain friction on his forming bulge.

"I need to know more than that my star, tell me what you've been fantasising about while I've been teaching you." He's known what you've been thinking about for a while, you realise, making you feel even hotter in his grip.

"I… I thought about sitting under your desk, sucking you off while you try to teach the class, and you bending me over your desk as punishment…" You weren't able to stop the words falling out of your mouth along with heavy breaths as he pressed light kisses down your neck, groping your thighs and hips as you spoke.

"Such an obedient student, hm? Now I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, and if you're good, I might let you come on my fingers. How's that sound, baby?" you moan at his words, nodding your head frantically.

"Words." He sternly whispered on your neck, halting all of his movements.

"Please Yunho- sir", He shivered at you saying his name so needily and lifted your hips to pull off your trousers and underwear, stuffing the underwear in his pocket before dropping to his knees between your legs.

"Am I getting those back- ngh!" A moan ripped out of you before you could even finish what you were saying as he licked a stripe across your weeping cunt till he reached your clit. The feeling had you bucking your hips into his face, but he held your thighs in a tight vice, fingertips gripping into your soft flesh. He groaned as he ate you out, mouth working its magic as he brought you closer to relief. The way he flicked his tongue against you had you grasping his soft hair. You had been so desperate to do that since you first saw him; it was just as nice as you had imagined.

"You're so good for me," the heat of his words hitting your thigh as it kissed it, before bringing his index finger to your hole and filling you. You gasped at the intrusion, unable to concentrate on the sensations as he went back to sucking your over-sensitive clit, moans spilling out of your throat.

"Sir please let me cum- I can't-" you stuttered as he slipped another finger in and sped up his pace, realising you wouldn't have to ask twice for your approaching release. He felt your hole clench around his long fingers as you rode them through your orgasm. Yunho watched your fucked out face as he licked your overstimulated pussy once more, before pulling the zipper on his slacks down and fishing a condom out of his pocket. You sat up to help him pull his dick out of his boxers, him letting out a small whimper as you ripped the condom packet with your teeth and slid it down his hard-on painfully slow, earning a pinch on your thigh. God, he looked delicious like this; Hair dishevelled, trousers just pulled down only enough to have his cock out, his tie loosened and top buttons undone, soft tummy peeking out of the ridden-up shirt as he looked down at you through his lashes. You promised to never forget this arousing image when he taught you next.

"You ready my baby? Gonna fill you so well…" He lined up his hips before stuffing you with his thick length; the ache turning into immense pleasure within seconds. He let you adjust to his size once he had bottomed out, rocking into your pussy when you gave him the green light. You were on cloud nine the way he stretched you and dragged his cock against your G-spot immediately.

"Fuck you fit me so well, baby, so good for my cock. Wanna fuck your tight little cunt every day." He bit your ear lobe as he relentlessly impaled you on him over and over while you cried into his neck in pleasure. He had a way of pounding his hips so delectably it made you feel as though you could pass out from the way he pressed into you.

"Say my name sweetheart, say my name while I claim your desperate pussy, hm? Can you do that for me?"

"Fuck Yunho please keep—please harder."

He laughed at your weak voice, "You don't even know what you want, so obedient for me though- fuck," Yunho muttered as his thrusts became more frantic. He knew you were both close as you chanted his name into his shoulder, fingernails digging into his back. Yunho reached down to stroke your clit with the rough pad of his thumb tightening the knot in your stomach, still sensitive from the first orgasm.

"Yunho, please I'm gonna come-"

"Come for me baby, you can do it, cum on my cock" He slammed into your cunt a few more times before he stilled deep in you, your pussy clenching around him in sync. He stammered out more praises and sweet words as you came down from your high with him still in you.

He pulled out carefully as you leaned against his body with all your weight, not having the strength to hold yourself up anymore, and tied the condom, putting it in the trash.

"You doing alright, tiny? Sorry for going so rough on you, you did so well for me." Yunho asked in concern as he cleaned you up and picked up your trousers, still not returning your underwear. You looked into his sweet eyes, before reaching up to the nape of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. His mouth still had traces of your arousal lingering, tasting sweet as he kissed you gently like you would break as easy as porcelain. Ironic.

"I'm good, Yunho- sorry, sir…" You weren't sure where the two of you stood after that, office yet to rid of the smell of arousal circling the room.

"Please, call me Yunho... Now, are you going to start focusing in my classes and stop eye fucking me every lesson, or do you need more… private lessons?"

You were pretty sure you were going to end the year with A++ with his special help.

OMGGGGG I melted while writing this bro, I hadn't ever planned on writing Dom!ateez bc I'm just a sucker for them as subs but this. This will not be the last.

Also thank you for 69 followers that's so funny 😭😭😭

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez imagine #jeong yunho #yunho drabble #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #ateez x atiny #yuyus asks ☆

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 year

Text

15:30 ー GOJOU SATORU. i like you best when you're annoying me.

saying you hated gojou satoru would be overexaggerating. no, a more accurate sentiment would be dislike.

you can respect gojou satoru.

you can even, at your most awake, tolerate him.

but he was most certainly a thorn in your side for the better part of your knowing each other the past three years. he was an annoyance, an arrogant one. but you suppose if your birth had literally shaken up the world of jujutsu as the world knew it, you'd probably have the attitude to match yourself. but your birth hadn't shaken up the world of jujutsu and your disposition matched it as one of the blessed average sorcerers forced to watch your cocky classmate be bestowed the title "the strongest".

he was obnoxious,

loud,

and quite frankly, not as charming as he believed himself to be though the amount of people who get wrapped into his whims might argue against you.

but this gojou satoru, the one sitting on the steps of jujutsu tech quietly and alone is a sight too strange for you to adjust to. you'd seen him once a year before after the disaster that was the star plasma vessel mission he'd failed. somehow, this satoru was even more depressed than that.

it had been no business of yours that suguru had seemed out of it lately. you hadn't really been friends with any of the other three people in your class, preferring company elsewhere in the school. satoru's friends were his friends and yours were yours. but to the one of the trio who'd been definitively closest to the defector of your entire organization, you supposed for satoru that hit even more than the loss of amanai riko.

so despite wanting to quietly walk by and leaving the boy to his thoughts, you somehow find yourself giving a light kick to his infinity and drawing his attention.

"did you want something?" satoru peers at you from his lowered shades.

"was just checking to see if i'd finally nail you with a kick before i head off to enoshima," you shrug. "looks like it's not my lucky day after all."

"nope, sorry, i'm a master now," satoru's smiling but it isn't reaching his eyes. you weren't a fan of his eyes despite loving the color blue. you'd sooner tell him to get a pair of brown contacts if he ever took his sunglasses off, you vaguely remember telling him that once as first years. you decide you hate the color of his eyes that are swamped in depression and sadness even more. "it'll take a lot more than that to throw me off my game."

dull eyes, eyebags and with faked bravado he's probably hoping you won't comment on.

you pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh. i'm no match for someone who looks like a kicked puppy. "look, we're not friends," you start rest your hands on your hips as satoru's expression morphs from surprised to unamused. "i can barely stand you on the best of the days and on the worst i pray a bus stronger than your infinity will hit you. if i knew that coming in when i did would result in the two of us being in the same class for three years, i would have gone to kyoto or asked my parents to hold me back a year."

"geez, thanks, [first], i appreciate the warm words," satoru grumbles, decidedly bored of the conversation as he rested his chin on his palm once more.

"you're a loudmouth, you're rude, your eyes are a shade of blue i somehow can't stand and i'm pretty sure you're starting to tune me out," no surprise there. your words weren't exactly the warmest or the nicest. "my point is," you consider flicking him, but you keep your hands where you've left them when you remember infinity. "i like you best when you're annoying me. you being quiet and gloomy throws me off, so go back to being annoying."

when you've had enough of him staring at you as if you've suddenly grown a third head, you walk past him. "that's all i wanted to say," you mutter with more than a hint of finality as you walk past your special-grade classmate feeling as if your back was burning. he really does need brown contacts, you think with a huff. i'll tell shoko to cheer him up or something.

"[first]!" when you look over your shoulder, he's waving and the grin on his face looks a tad more real than the one he gave you a few moments ago. "when you get back from enoshima, i'll be as annoying as you want!"

you can't help a small smile of your own, "don't hurt yourself while you're doing it," you give a two-fingered salute back.

i should have just ignored him. if i knew he was gonna make me do this when i got back, i would have just ignored him.

"gojou, when i said i wanted you to go back to annoying me, this isn't what i meant," your eye is twitching as satoru throws an arm over your shoulder with a beam. he isn't using his infinity, that's good. you hope he keeps it off long enough for you to throw something at his face.

him roping you into helping him move his things into a new apartment after graduation was one thing; satoru roping you into his new venture into parenthood was an entirely different beast.

"come on, [first], don't you wanna be co-parents with me?" satoru laughs at your scowl. "we're partners!"

"no, i don't," you tell him pointedly and yet somehow you're still grabbing ingredients to make enough for four people and then some. "we're barely even fri-

satoru blinks at you with a deadpan expression, "but i already told the kids we would be taking care of them."

"we?"

"well, it's not like i know how to cook and everything shoko makes tastes like medicine," satoru replies like it's obvious. "you're the only saving grace here, please?"

"i hope you know i hate you," you finally reply after a moment. he wins, of course satoru wins.

"love you too, [first]," satoru chuckles, tossing in a bag of sweet treats into your shopping cart. "besides, we've been friends since you got back from enoshima months ago. i still remember the heart-warming speech you gave me on the staircase of jujutsu tech!"

"if what you got from what i said was an invitation for friendship, you need to get your ears cleaned," or at the very least he needed to stop sneaking bags of candy into the shopping cart.

satoru grins, "it's for the kids!"

you look at him all-knowing and unamused, "the kids don't need 5 bags of kit kats."

"not with that attitude."

the gojou fic i wanted to have up before i moved isn't going to be done until next month, but i'll feel bad not writing 2 months in a row so you guys can have this gojou timestamp to hold you over until then

#look she's writing #timestamp #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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skzimagines · 2 months

Text

"Teachers pet."

Minors DNI 18+

"Okay class, that's it for today. If you could bring me those papers by next week, it would help your guy's grading score a lot!" Professor Chan's voice booms through the class as everyone begins to pack their things into their bags.

"Next week? Is he crazy, we'll never get it done by then!" My friend Cam says from beside me. I fold up my laptop and shove it into my bag, chuckling at her comment. "I can always help you, maybe we'll get it done sooner that way." I say, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

"Yeah, that's easier for you to say.... teachers pet." She says with a smirk. My face turns red as I turn to look at Chan. He's currently going through papers on his desk. As if he can feel my stare, he looks up. His eyes meet mine and he gives me a small smile before going back to his work. "I'm not the teacher's pet... You just get along better with them when you actually do your work." I jokingly say... kinda. "Oh I'm sure you're doing work for him." She spits back with a wink. I let out a groan which causes her to laugh, then swing my bag over my shoulder. "You ready?" We head out the door but before I can make it out all of the way Professor Chan calls my name. "Ms. Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?" I stop in my tracks and look at Cam. "Have fun... teacher's pet." She laughs and jogs up to the rest of our friends.

I make my way back into the class, standing in front of his desk. "Is everything okay?" I ask. My hands start sweating as I fold them together in front of me and play with the ring on my finger nervously. It's no lie that this man is beyond attractive, and I may or may not have had a tiny crush on him since last year. But, pushing feelings aside because everyone knows, sleeping with a teacher, probably isn't something you should try to be adding to your resume.

"Yes, I'm just looking through my papers here and I don't seem to have your last report." He states, looking up at me from the stack of papers he has on his desk. I look at him confused, because I know I sat my work on his desk as soon as I walked into class last week.

"I for sure thought I sat them on your desk last week." I say quietly. "Well, I have looked everywhere and I can't seem to find them. They might have gotten lost?" He says, more as a question though. "I can give them to you again to redo, so you can get the points for them, but I'm afraid I'll have to fail you if they're not turned in by tomorrow." He states. "Tomorrow!?...Sir, it took us an entire week to do that report, there's no way I can get that done by tomorrow..." I say, concern filling my voice. He lets out a sigh before grabbing last week's report out of his desk and setting it in front of me. "Do what you can, and I'll add points for whatever you get done." He says. I let out a groan and roll my eyes, grabbing the papers off of his desk.

"I don't appreciate the attitude Ms. Y/N." He says sternly. I've never been one to talk back, especially to people who have more control than I do. I've always left that to Cam. But the fact that I'm going to fail this assignment, after working my ass off on it, sends flames through my body. "With all respect, Sir. I just don't see how it's my fault that you lost my papers. I know I sat them on your desk before class started last week." Chan stares at me, as if he's seen a ghost. After what seems like an eternity but was really only 10 seconds. He stands from his chair and walks around his desk, standing right in front of me. "Ms. Y/N, are you blaming me for your mistake?" He asks. His voice has gotten much deeper and quieter. Sexier, but I'm not going to get into all of that. "I'm sorry, Sir. but..." He cuts me off by quickly walking to me until our bodies touch and he presses me against his desk. My breath gets caught in my throat as his lips nearly touch mine.

"I said, I don't appreciate the attitude. So Y/N why is it, you keep giving it to me?" He asks, his breath fans over my lips and smells of mint and I take note of the gum that's in his mouth. I can't find any words. All I can focus on is the way his hands hold my waist and the way his lips are so close to mine, if I were to move right now, there'd be no avoiding them from touching.

"You don't have much to say now, do you?" He asks with a smirk. A small squeak leaves my lips as he pushes his knee between my legs, causing them to open and him to stand between them. "I have a small idea on how you can get those points for that assignment." He says seductively. "Sir... we shouldn't' do this. Y..you could lose y...your job." I say quietly, trying so hard not to absolutely go feral. "Oh y/n, aren't you the cutest little thing. I have you pinned up against my desk, wanting to fuck your brains out, but yet you're concerned about my job." He says with a small chuckle.

"Sir..." I start to say, but he quickly cuts me off. "You make me crazy when you call me that." He groans out, before slamming his lips onto mine. It feels like electricity jolts through my entire body. My hands instinctively reach to the back of his neck.

He steps away before turning me around and bending me over his desk. “You and these stupid skirts, always taunting me every time you come in here.” He says, lifting my skirt up to lay on my back and dragging my panties down my legs, exposing my dampend heat to him and swiftly taking out his hardened member from his black jeans.

“Gosh… perfect, just how I imagined it.” He says, before slamming himself into me. The desk moves a bit from the force of his thrust. A sharp yelp leaves my lips before he clasps his hand over my mouth.

“As much as I’d love to hear your sweet little moans, I don’t want to lose my job baby girl, couldn’t bear the fact of not seeing you every day.” He groans out. He continues to pound into me, small mumbled moans flow through his hand every time he buries himself inside of me.

I feel my stomach clench up to the feeling of my high coming closer. “I feel that pussy tightening for me, you going to cum for me?” He asks. All I can do is let out a moan as an answer, before my high reaches the peak and exploded around him. My body shakes as he continues to pound into me, bringing himself to his own.

He thrusts extra hard, pausing between every seed he pumps in to me. Letting out a grunt every time as well.

He pulls out and pulls my panties back up and fixes my skirt before pulling his pants back into place. As I stand up from his desk, my name catches my eye. I take a second look at the paper sitting in his desk…. It’s my report, my name written right on the top right side. “Wha… Chan!.” I say, pointing at the paper.

He follows the direction to which I’m pointing at and sees my paper, sitting right smack beside him. “Oh! Imagine that!” He says, picking up the paper with a smirk. “Yeah… imagine.” I say. “Is that more attitude Y/N?.” He asks, giving me the same look as earlier… before he fucked me over his desk.

I watch as he grabs a pen from inside his desk. He takes my paper and writes a big 100% right at the top. “I’ll put some extra credit on there too, sweetie.” He says before giving me a wink.

“You think I did this for a good grade?” I ask. Does he really think I’m that desperate? “That’s not the reasoning?” He asks, giving me a confused look. “No!” I say dramatically. “Why else would a smart girl like you, be fucking her teacher for.” He asks. Folding his hands together on his desk. I grimace at the comment he’s made. “Don’t make me sound like a whore…” I whisper, not having the courage to look at him. He hear his chair slide back against the wooden floor.

I suddenly feel his hand lift my head so he can look me in the eye. “Baby girl, you are anything but… don’t ever think I’d think of you in that way.” He whispers, planting a small kiss to my forehead. A light blush forms on my cheeks as his thumb rubs a circle on my cheek.

“Now… go get to your other classes, we don’t need you to fail those.” He gives me a wink, walking back to his chair. I take one more good look at him, taking in everything that’s just happened.

My heart flutters from the thought of him deep inside me. I shake my head from the thought. I grab my bag from off of the floor near his desk and throw it of my shoulder before making my way to the door.

“See you tomorrow Ms. Y/N..” he says with a smirk.

“See you tomorrow Professor Chan.”

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dzvelinaskebiyars · 2 months

Text

Too busy.

You were having exams soon, so this entire week you have been studying. You always were the good student with Straight A's/10's/5's. You couldn't afford to fail this exam and lower your grade. That's why you couldn't spend time with Mikey anymore.

Everytime he told you to hang out with him, you'd turn him down by saying "Sorry, Manjiro. I have to study." He's not the type of person who studies, rather he always neglects his studies and seriously couldn't understand why you were studying this much, for entire week. But despite that, he tried to be understanding.

Instead he'd hang out with Draken, Takemichi, Kawata twins, Pah-chin and Peh-yan and those who don't give a shit about studying. Even Mitsuya and Baji were studying. But spending time with his friends was so different from spending time with his girlfriend.

That's why he's at your place now. Pouting and sulking like a cat.

"Can you please take a break and cuddle with me?"

"I can't, Manjiro. I'm halfway done, I can't abandon it now."

"When will you be done?"

"I'll take notes from three other paragraphs and that's it."

He groaned, falling on your bed dramatically, as if waiting for you tired him to the point he collapsed. You told him to eat Tayakis meanwhile but, surprisingly, he turned them down.

He'd randomly say things like "guess who's bored? That's right. Me. I'm bored. Give me attention." But you ignored him, brushing him off and focusing on reading the paragraph again. He started sulking again.

Mikey stood up to take a look at what you're reading--biology. He didn't understand whatever was written or drawn in the book. Then he took the chair from the living room and put it beside you, sitting down and staring at you while you were focused on reading.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you because, my god, you looked so attractive when you were so serious and focused on something. He just sat there, unable to look away. Out of curiosity, you glanced at him. Manjiro's cheeks were slight pink, eyes focused on you that got you blushing. "S-Something on my face?" you asked, looking away.

He shook his head. "No." He suddenly snapped out of it before asking for cuddles again. "Cuddle with me."

"No."

"Please cuddle with me."

"No"

"I swear I'll be good."

You finally put your pen down. "Alright, only for ten minutes." His eyes sparkled in joy as he suddenly picked you up. "Hey!" "Finally!!"

He throw you on the bed before crawling on it and resting you head on your chest, wrapping his arms on your waist.

You have ignored it but you really did miss his touch.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #manjiro sano #mikey x reader #oneshot #tokyo rev x reader

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wave2tyun · 7 months

Text

cool hot sweet love | ☆

pairing: barista!beomgyu x fem!reader, surfer!yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: summer!au, lovetriangle!au, fluff, romance, a tiny bit of angst?

summary: embarking on a journey towards self-discovery, you didn’t expect to also have your heart tangled in an alluring summer romance. but, who’s gonna be the first to win your heart? the sweet barista, beomgyu, or the charming surfer boy, yeonjun? let the love games begin!

warnings : alcohol consumption, a few swear words, minor injury, (almost) drowning

word count: almost 10k + the endings are like 1k each

a/n: i've been feeling super nostalgic about this fic recently (it's one of the very first i've written!! :0), so here it is back again in all it's glory!!!! this is too long for me to search through for any mistakes i'm sorry asbjdha for all my summer enthusiasts, let's hang in there just a little bit more, this one goes out to y'all!!!!😼😼💞

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

at the end of your final year of high school, you found yourself chasing a dream, a dream that was never truly yours to begin with. competitions and grades never seemed to bring you any satisfaction anymore. your parents’ praises didn’t seem enthusiastic either, but rather an automatic response. you felt completely lost. the one thing that seemed to give you the drive to keep on going, suddenly lost its spark. you were living in a greyed out world, having the same exhausting routine over and over again. you wanted a break from it all. for once, you didn’t long for the pressure or the big goals, but simply for living life just as it was. you wanted an escape from the clutches of mundane life, which is why you chose to swallow your pride and opt for a gap year after graduation. you knew your parents well, and you weren’t expecting them to be happy about your decision. they didn’t want to let their “dream daughter” fall down from the top and watch as everybody else around her were working on their way to success. but what they failed to consider was that success is in no way linear, and that your break was in the end substantial for your wellness. you were very lucky to have a friend like yeji in your life though. she did have her own struggles with academic validation as well, yet she never had any pressure coming from her parents. she wanted to be there for you, and made her parents persuade yours about letting you have a gap year with her. to raise the ball even higher, her parents added one condition: should you have a gap year, you weren’t allowed to remain in the city. instead, you were going to stay at their vacation home, at least for the summer, to let you experience the thrill of the unknown, as well as to help you get a breath of fresh air.

you didn’t know what kind of black magic yeji’s family used, but whatever they did, somehow managed to convince your parents to agree to your proposal. finally, you felt like you had found some motivation to keep on pushing through, making your heart fill up with excitement.

as the number of days leading up to your departure shortened, you were meeting up more and more with yeji for your final preparations. your sleepovers consisted of the two of you giggling while packing and making lists, as well as making up scenarios deep into the night about things that could finally “bring some spice” into your lives. even though it was her own family’s house, yeji hasn’t been there in years. she was living under the impression that a holiday there would just be “a distraction from her studies” or “a waste of time”. however, now that you were both free from that brainwashing hell called school, you realised how much you’ve actually been missing out on.

“do you really think that this “project” will finally bring that change we want in our lives?” you asked yeji, breaking the silence after some long moments of tossing and turning in your bed. you found it almost impossible to fall asleep. it was the last night before you were going to leave behind everything in your life so far. the excitement was still there, but you couldn’t deny the fact that there were all sorts of worries and doubts clouding your mind, and you found yourself wondering more and more often whether you were truly making a good decision.

“y/n, are you letting your worries take over your mind again?” she let out a soft laugh, then turned around to face you “i understand though, i’ve been getting that too. but- are those thoughts really worth it? i mean- we’ll never know unless we try, so i think it’s definitely worth a shot.”

you sighed “still- i don’t think i’d be able to face my parents again if i fail this.”

“y/n...this is not a test. there’s nothing to fail here. personally, i would rather try and regret than live my whole life wondering “what if”.”

you hummed. yeji was right. you hugged her tightly, trying to show her how much you appreciated her comforting words. and just like this, you were finally able to let your body drift off into a deep slumber. it was now or never, and you weren’t just gonna sit there and wait forever.

───⋆☆─────────────

the ride to the vacation house turned out to be a challenge in itself. yeji was the only one with a driver’s license, so you had no choice but to stay in the passenger’s seat with both a gps and a map in hand. unfortunately for yeji, you had one flaw: you were absolutely terrible with directions, meaning that the trip that was supposed to be 6 hours long, ended up taking you 9 hours instead. you got lost in some strange forests twice; yeji pulled over the side of the road multiple times, trying to make sense of the directions you were telling her, occasionally getting out to buy a piece of fresh fruit whenever she spotted a merchant. she said that it was helping her brain think, and that she was also helping to keep a business going. you didn’t need any excuses for fresh fruit though. fresh fruit is good food after all.

when you somehow made it to the house, you felt your body refilling with energy, despite having that whole trip take 10 years off your lifespan. sitting right in front of you was a 2-story house with pale blue walls and a white wooden porch.

“i can’t believe we made it out alive” you said after getting out of the car. you weren’t sure how much more you could endure the constant buzzing of the air conditioner, and yeji’s one and only cd playing on replay.

“you can’t believe we made it? what about me, i was the one having to endure all those truck drivers swearing at me for taking wrong turns, because someone, not telling who, is incapable of using any kind of maps”

“whew- i wonder who that is.” you gasped dramatically “must be tough dealing with them. bet they are a lovely person though”

“they sure are” she giggled “now come on, let’s get our luggage out of the trunk before the heat melts everything away.”

“need a hand with that?” you heard an unfamiliar voice shouting from the distance. you turned around and saw a group of 3 young men coming your way. you and yeji looked at each other dumbfounded, unsure what to answer. you nudged her with your elbow.

“do you know them?”

“no idea who they are...” she whispered back.

“you must be yeji and y/n- right? i’m hueningkai, yeji’s parents let us know that you were coming today, so we stopped by to see if you needed any help” the boy with a brown mullet said. “that’s soobin and this is taehyun” he pointed at the other two, both of them giving you a warm smile and a small wave in return. you were almost too stunned to speak. luckily for you, yeji replied while you were busy staring at them with big eyes.

“i think i recall them mentioning you briefly before leaving. actually, weren’t there supposed to be two more people or am i not remembering well?”

“you must be talking about beomgyu and yeonjun.” soobin answered “their shifts haven’t ended yet so they’re still busy at the beach. we can go over there if you want to after you settle in.”

“sounds great.” you said picking up the first luggage.

“that looks heavy- let me handle that” taehyun replaced the luggage in your hand with a bag. “t-thanks.” you were taken aback by their kindness. boys at your school never even spare a glance in your direction, let alone help you carry something. if it weren’t for the boys, you and yeji would have probably passed out on the floor after moving everything inside.

───⋆☆─────────────

the house was only a 5-minute walk away from the beach, during which you got to learn a tiny bit more about each other. hueningkai told you that he’s the one in charge for making playlists and playing music; soobin worked along with beomgyu at the bar, meanwhile taehyun got a small job as a kitchen assistant because of his newly-found passion for cooking. they were all around your age and yet they seemed to have already found their passions, living life without much worry in mind. you wished you could live like that too, and maybe, just maybe, this was your chance to find that out.

“welcome-“ “-to paradise!” soobin exclaimed spreading his arms in the air.

“woah-” both you and yeji said in unison, making everybody else laugh.

“welcome to paradise indeed” you said, placing your feet on the warm golden sand. there was music playing around you, not too loud so that you could still hear the sound of the waves softly crashing against the shore. it was breath-taking.

“and you haven’t seen everything yet” taehyun chuckled, leading you towards the beach bar. “beomgyu- we’re here!” he shouted.

you squinted your eyes trying to see who this “beomgyu” was from afar, but your vision simply failed you. and when you got closer, you were simply not mentally prepared to face the person in front of you.

“guys i told you not to-“ he started off, seemingly irritated “oh- hi.” he scratched his neck, giving you a shy smile. at that very moment, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat.

“y/n, yeji- this is beomgyu. our one and only barista.”

“the best one in town!” beomgyu added cheerfully.

“ah- so humble too.” taehyun teased him, sighing dramatically.

“hey- what are you implying?” beomgyu sulked, but you couldn’t even pay attention to their bickering. your eyes were way too busy going over beomgyu’s features. ripe, cherry red locks of hair framed his eyes, those eyes that resembled two pearls of boba from a brown sugar milk tea, with long, beautiful eyelashes adoring them. you thought he looked just like a honey bear.

“i’m yeji- it’s nice to meet you” she shook his hand “this is y/n.”

beomgyu smiled and you reached your hand out for him to shake it. his soft hands enveloped yours, and you couldn’t help but notice how bigger they were than yours. you felt his hand lingering for just a few seconds more, and you were already missing his warm touch once he let go.

“so- want to have a look over our menu? it’s on the house” beomgyu offered.

“oh cool i’ll have the-“ soobin started talking, instantly getting cut off by beomgyu “not you- the girls!” he jokingly gave him a death stare “you’ve all been profiting too much off my generosity lately, you don’t deserve any free drinks today.”

you and yeji snickered, they all looked really close to each other, like brothers. it was like you were witnessing a petty fight between siblings.

“one strawberry lemonade for me please!” yeji said.

your eyes were still scanning the menu, hands continuously flipping the pages back and forth as you chewed on your bottom lip. beomgyu leaned over to you, the sweet scent of his citrus perfume invading your senses.

“want me to recommend anything?”

“ah- yes please. there are too many drinks here that sound good.” you replied “nothing with alcohol though, the trip here already gave me a headache.” you glared at yeji, who lifted one eyebrow at you.

he chuckled “people usually enjoy the peach smoothie, myself included. does that sound good?” his deep brown eyes peered into yours, never breaking eye contact- not even for one second. “sounds perfect.” you replied, almost completely absorbed by his gaze.

“until that’s done-” hueningkai chimed in “we should go ahead and meet up with yeonjun too.”

“don’t take too long though” beomgyu said “my shift is ending soon.”

“we’ll be fast- have you seen him around by chance?”

“last time i talked to him he was at the surfing board shop. maybe check that out first?” beomgyu replied, before going to the drinks station to get started on your orders.

“oh- i haven’t seen you around here before?”

you almost jumped out of your seat, startled by the new voice that interrupted your conversation.

“yeonjun! perfect timing.” hueningkai said “we were planning to go looking for you.”

“is that so?” he playfully asked, plopping down on the seat between you and yeji. his voice turned out to be much more attractive than you had anticipated, it was smooth, yet slightly husky and deep. you turned your head to look at him for the first time.

“i’m yeji- and this is...” her voice trailed down, expecting you to answer again. you were frozen, being too immersed to take in yeonjun’s appearance. you could notice his muscular form, not hidden away from the tight-fitted swimming shirt he was wearing. his sharp eyes game him a fox-like charm, making you feel inexplicably drawn to him. in contrast, his plump lips make him look adorable, like a sulky duck. what was a man like him even doing on a secluded beach-? yeji coughed, giving you a small nudge.

“y/n.” you managed to blurt out, a stupid smile plastered on your face.

“ah- huening, why didn’t you mention that such pretty girls were coming here today?” you almost dropped the drink’s coaster you had in your hand as he said that.

“it hasn’t even been 5 minutes and he’s already flirting” taehyun groaned, covering his face with his hands.

beomgyu rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, setting down the drinks for you and yeji on the counter before finding a seat on the bar stools to join you.

“like i’ve said-“ hueningkai intervened “we were about to look for you. are you done with lessons for today?”

“yup. some kid had a sunstroke so i got off work early”

“what kind of lessons do you teach?” you asked curiosity taking over.

“i’m a surfing teacher for kids.” he answered “it’s a small job to make some money. for you, however- i could do it for free, since you’re cute” he winked at you, making your cheeks flush instantly.

“i’m sure y/n would love to try something new” yeji butted in, answering before you could open your mouth to speak. “that’s what we’re here for, after all. right?”

“right...” you squinted your eyes at her, giving her a light kick with your foot.

“it’s decided then.” he chuckled “i’ll be waiting.”

this is how all the conversations during the first day went like; your mind going blank, with yeji either saving you from embarrassment or only digging your hole deeper. still, you enjoyed it, you ended up staying at the beach long after the sun started to set. the chilly breeze coming from around the sea was made you get up from your seats, at long last.

───⋆☆─────────────

the next day, you found yourself back at the beach sometime in the afternoon. you did everything you could to wake up yeji, but to no avail. the drive here must have completely tired her out, as she was sleeping soundly as a rock. in the end, you let her continue to rest, choosing to go out by yourself.

“so, what’s it gonna be for today?” beomgyu asked, leaning his head on the palm of his head. “may i interest you in one of my signature cocktails, perhaps?”

“i’d love that” you smiled.

this time, you watched as beomgyu prepared your drink. he lifted the sleeves of his dress shirt up, revealing the way his forearm muscles tensed up as he picked up the glass bottles full of alcohol. his precise movements could tell you that he must have had plenty of experience as a barista. your eyes wandered off further, focusing on the way his long slender fingers, still slightly dripping with water from having washed fruits earlier, handled the knife with such skill and care. you remembered the moment you held his hands yesterday, how soft his skin was to your touch- you shook your head, trying to get that thought away.

“all done” beomgyu brought you a tall glass, ripe cherry sitting proudly on top, floating on the ice. “it’s a cherry daiquiri.”

you pushed the straw past your lips, a sweet yet tangy taste filling up your mouth. beomgyu looked at you, eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation. feeling a bit mischievous, you put on a serious expression.

“well uh-“ you paused, pursing your lips “this was quite-“

beomgyu gulped, the content look on his face fading away.

“-quite possibly the best cocktail i’ve ever had” you couldn’t help but burst into laughter upon seeing the cute expression he had on his face. he closed his eyes, tilting his head back and breaking into a smile.

“you had me seriously questioning my bartender skills for a moment there”

“sorry- i had to” you giggled “i really mean it though, i’ve never had something that tasted this good before” beomgyu’s dimple appeared as he tried to conceal the big smile taking over his face.

“y/n!” yeji shouted, jogging to reach the bar.

“look who’s finally up”

“i slept through my alarm- sorry” she sighed, sitting down beside you.

‘not just through your alarm’

you hummed as you continued to sip on your drink, admiring the scenery in front of you. it was a peaceful atmosphere, the catchy beats of the music being sometimes interrupted by the squawking of the seagulls in the distance. right at the shore was a small group of kids, with yeonjun in the middle of them, standing on a surfing board. they all seemed to be bursting with energy, like bottles of soda that were about to explode. yeonjun knew how to match their energy well, while still keeping everything under control.

“instead of staring at him so intensely, why don’t you go and take up his offer?”

you snorted, crinkling your nose “me? surfing? no thanks- i’m saving myself from that embarrassment”

“and? if you only worry about embarrassing yourself then you won’t ever end up making a change with your life” yeji wrapped her arms around her body “-and this exactly what we’re here for, something new. don’t just let this opportunity go to waste.”

you frowned, chewing on your straw. even though your brain didn’t like to admit it, she was right. you were so caught up in your own comfort bubble, that it was holding you back.

“looks like he’s getting a break now” yeji muttered “come on- this is your chance!”

“alright- i’m going” you agreed at last, gulping down the rest of the drink before heading towards yeonjun’s spot. you walked with a determined look on your face- and shaky hands.

you tapped yeonjun on the shoulder, breath hitching in your throat. yeji watched your interaction from her seat, wishing she could be closer to hear it.

“who-” he turned around “y/n- everything good?”

“yeah.” you answered shortly, playing with your earrings. you weren’t particularly bad at small talk, but this time your mind went blank the moment he started facing you. you couldn’t even meet his eyes, which were staring back directly at you.

“actually- i’ve been thinking about it and, you know those surfing lessons you talked about? i kinda want to give that a shot” you trailed down, your voice becoming higher in pitch towards the end of your sentence.

yeonjun’s face instantly lit up, his smile reaching his eyes “really? when do you want to start then?”

“well, when is your schedule free?” you scratched your neck “i’ve heard you’re pretty busy, i wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

“don’t worry about it, i was the one who asked after all.” he chuckled “i can give you a text later on after checking.” you tilted your head in confusion

“but you don’t have my phone nu-“

oh. he was smooth.

“you got me.” he said sheepishly “i was hoping to get your phone number” there was a sharp constrast to the way he was behaving before. the cool and flirty persona he had been putting on was starting to crumble “if that’s okay with you as well i mean-“

“yeah i’m okay with that” you reassured him “maybe i wanted yours too” you mumbled, heart almost giving out after getting those words out. he laughed again, handing you his phone. you quickly typed your phone number in, saving the contact as “y/n :)”, then you handed him yours.

“i’ll make sure to let you know by tonight”

“great, i’ll be waiting then” you replied playfully, making your way back to the bar.

yeji kept on pressuring you to spill all the details, but you brushed her off, wanting to save the conversation in private. you didn’t even get a chance to breathe properly once you returned home. after locking the door, yeji dragged you by the arm and sat you down on the couch along with her, forcing you to let it all out.

“see? that wasn’t so bad, was it? i’m sure you’re gonna thank me later-“ yeji’s voice was interrupted by a notification coming from your phone. you sat there, frozen, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.

“are you gonna answer that?”

“i- i guess i should” you took your phone, a river bubbling through your veins and flushing your face at the sight of the new message:

(yeonjun<3)

[10:30 pm]: hi cutie ;) are you free tomorrow at 11 am for our first surfing lesson?

“what are you smiling at?”

“nothing” you giggled, hiding the screen of your phone with your hands.

“you’re definitely not giggling because of nothing- let me see.” yeji got on top of you, trying to pry the phone away from your hands. however, her attempt was unsuccessful, as your grip was way too strong.

“you’re leaving me with no choice” she whispered mischievously. you felt your whole life flash before your eyes. you had one great weakness- and yeji knew that. you couldn’t even stand 3 seconds of tickling, so she was going to use it against you. her fingers inched closer to your stomach and attacked you quickly.

“YEJI- stop please-“ you tried to shout between giggles “i surrender- i promise.” she stopped for a brief moment “you promise?” “yeah- now get off me and i’ll give you my phone.” she squinted her eyes, going back to her place on the couch reluctantly. her eyes widened in disbelief when you revealed the new message.

“no fucking way- after two days?? y/n. this guy’s definitely into you”

“i don’t want to jump to conclusions- what if that’s his way of being friendly?” you argued back, realising how foolish your reason sounded only after you finished your sentence.

“y/n- darling, there’s no way a guy who just wants to become friends would save his name with a heart symbol.” she shook you by the shoulders “he. is. into. you.”

“what if-“ you were about to argue again, but the sound of another notification made you stop midway through your sentence. you unlocked your phone, completely unprepared. you and yeji glanced at the screen, then looked back at each other in disbelief, struggling to contain the urge to scream your lungs out.

(unknown number)

[10:50 pm]: hi, y/n! this is beomgyu :)

[10:51 pm]: i got your phone number from yeonjun, hope you don’t mind ;)

───⋆☆─────────────

from the moment you woke up you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. it was hard to tell whether it was from excitement or anxiety. maybe it was a mix of both. still, you were proud of yourself for choosing to do something out of your comfort zone for once. yeji was probably even more excited than you were. she wasn’t a morning person, but she insisted on coming along to watch your lesson and to ‘check your chemistry’.

“which swimsuit should i take? i packed two with me.” you held up a black one-piece swimsuit and a pale blue two-piece one for yeji to see.

“get the two-piece. you look hotter in it.” she playfully winked at you. you reluctantly looked at the swimsuit she chose, cursing yourself in your head for asking. you opened your mouth to voice out your worries, but yeji got up from the bed and put a finger over your mouth “shush, i don’t want to hear any complaints. just trust me on this one- okay?” you silently put the black one back in the drawer and went to the bathroom to get changed, deciding to go with yeji’s pick. “yeonjun’s heart is gonna melt once he sees you.”

you tried to ignore her “let’s go, i don’t want to be late.”

“can’t leave yeonjun hanging?” yeji joked, faking a pout. you lightly slap her arm. “i’m gonna leave without you if you’re not ready.”

“you wouldn’t do that to me- you love me.”

“i sure do...” you tilted your head back, a laugh escaping your lips.

yeonjun was waiting for you at the exact same spot you watched him teach yesterday, nobody else around him this time. for some reason, the thought of being completely alone with him didn’t cross your mind. you could feel a rush of adrenaline flowing through your body, but it was way too late to back down now.

“ready for-“ yeonjun’s words stopped abruptly as soon as he looked at you. he seemed distressed, eyes rapidly going over between you and the warm sand beneath his feet, the tips of his ears flaming red. was this what yeji meant by his heart melting? he cleared his throat before speaking again “ready for our first lesson?”

“i’m a bit nervous” you admitted “but overall excited i think” you didn’t sound very sure of yourself.

“you’ll be fine with me” he flashed you a gentle smile.

yeonjun clasped his hands together “we’ll go over the basics first”

“you need to catch waves in order to start surfing, and how do you do that? you paddle.” yeonjun put down a surfing board onto the sand. “to paddle, you need to lie and balance on your surfboard. let me demonstrate it for you” yeonjun laid his body on the board, his back now facing you.

“when you do this, make sure that the angle of the board’s nose doesn’t change. it should remain the same as when you weren’t on top of the board, not higher, not lower.”

“got it.”

“you shouldn’t paddle with both arms simultaneously, as this won’t help you maintain a constant speed. alternate between both arms at a steady pace”

you were in awe at yeonjun’s professional aura, he explained things calmy, while still maintaining a firm voice.

“let’s get this board into the water so you can give that a try.”

you looked at yeonjun with wide eyes, your nerves had just started to settle down a bit and now they were going off like fireworks again.

he laughed lightly “no need to worry, i’ll be right beside you.” yeonjun pushed the board into the sea, not too far away from the shore so that the water level wouldn’t be too high. he held on to it so that you could get lie down with ease. “when paddling keep your chin up so that you can look around.”

you tried to do just as he said, mimicking his movements from earlier. you didn’t want to know how goofy you looked from another person’s point of view.

“just like that” yeonjun whispered “see? you’re a natural! i think we can move on to the next step- getting up. we won’t be riding any waves today, we need to make sure you get this technique right”

you turned your head towards his direction, a petrified look on your face.

“come on, i’ll help you” yeonjun held out his hand for you to take, moving the other on your waist to help you maintain your balance as you moved up with shaky feet. his touch made you feel flustered and you lost your focus, accidentally slipping on the board. luckily, yeonjun was there to catch you before you could face-plant into the water.

“easy does it. don’t worry, it’s tricky to get it right on the first try” he held you again, his grip on your hand tighter than the first time. you held your breath as you made your second attempt, this time ending successful.

“no way- i did it” you exclaimed.

yeji’s and beomgyu’s cheers could be heard all the way from the bar, making you burst into laughter. your cheeks turned rosy as you noticed your hand still holding yeonjun’s.

“you’re doing amazing, cutie” your face felt even hotter at the sound of the nickname.

“let’s try that a few more times”

and so you did. again, and again, and again. yeonjun didn’t let you go until you had at least 3 successful attempts in a row. the both of you settled down on a sunbed, munching on some ice cream as a reward for your success.

“do you like it here so far?” yeonjun asked.

“we haven’t had the chance to do much yet but- i think i do. the beach alone is enough for me to enjoy my time here.” you took a bite of the ice cream cone “by the way- i was wondering, how come you started surfing?”

“i fell in love with the beach after my uncle taught me how to surf.” you looked up to meet his eyes. you could see the way they lit up as he explained everything further. “the gentle breeze, the adrenaline, the warm sun touching my skin- i felt like i couldn’t get enough of it.” he tilted his head back and stretched out his arms “i tried to go back to the city, but i couldn’t resist being away from all of this, so now- i get to do exactly what i love.” he smiled.

you stared at the ice cream in your hand, watching it melt from the heat. his words tugged at your heart; in a way, you were feeling jealous of how content he seemed to be with his life.

“sounds really nice” you smiled back, biting your lips. you could almost feel your stomach turning, your previous worries were coming on at lightning speed. the sound of yeonjun’s voice out of it.

“i’m glad you took up on my offer, it’s nice to share something i enjoy with a lovely person like you.” your worries dissipated, being replaced by butterflies in your stomach instead.

───⋆☆─────────────

you continued your lessons with yeonjun up until the middle of the summer. it was clear by now that you were definitely not a surfing prodigy, but you didn’t want to stop. you didn’t know when it would be the next time you got to do something like this. besides, having yeonjun’s attention all on you was nice. or at least, until little kids started stealing him away from you.

“teacher yeonjun- can you help me find my rubber duck? i lost it in the water.” the kid sobbed, tugging on yeonjun’s swimming shorts. yeonjun looked at the kid then at you, conflicted.

“go on-“ you reassured him with a smile “i got it.”

“i’ll be quick.” yeonjun grabbed the kids hand, sprinting towards the area of the “lost duck”.

you lifted your body on the surfing board, closing your eyes for a brief moment and taking a deep breath of the cool beach air. you were all alone now. this was your chance to get away from your thoughts, your worries; to simply shift your focus on all your other senses. somehow, you were feeling nostalgic- nostalgic for a moment that hasn’t even fully passed yet. if only it was possible to keep those feelings locked away, so you could revisit them whenever you wanted to.

yet, your happiness was cut short. you let your guard down too much, and were completely unaware of the danger right in front of you. beomgyu’s shout snapped you out of it. you opened your eyes, only to see an enormous wave centimeters away from you. you froze, not knowing what to do. a million thoughts ran through your mind; before you could even make a decision, the wave crashed into you, sending your body flying down into the water, your head hitting the surfing board in the process. the glass that beomgyu was holding slipped from his hand, shattering to the ground. he swiftly jumped over the counter, then took his shirt off, his eyes frantically searching around the water for you. instead, he saw yeonjun diving in the water, already 2 steps ahead from him. it was childish to race with yeonjun to save you. beomgyu ran back to the bar, hands shaking as he searched for a first med kit and a towel.

you couldn’t keep your eyes open as the salty water gave you a burning sensation almost instantly. you flailed your arms around, in an attempt to save yourself, but the more you moved, the more it felt like you were sinking down. you were almost ready to stop when you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you back up towards the surface.

“i got you, don’t worry” yeonjun breathed out, hooking one of his arms under your legs and holding your shoulders with the other. your hands hanged loosely around his neck, desperately coughing up the water that entered your system.

“try to stand on your side if you can”

yeonjun laid you down on the nearest sunbed, and you did just as he said, bringing your knees to your chest as your coughing fit continued. “don’t panic, just let it all out” he said softly as he rubbed his hands down your back to soothe you.

yeonjun called out yeji’s name, gesturing for the others to remain in their place for now, as a group of people surrounding you could have been overwhelming. still, beomgyu chose to trail down behind yeji as she walked towards you. he covered you with the towel he found and left a cold bottle of water on the ground next to you before going up to yeonjun.

“can we talk for a sec?” he said, grabbing yeonjun’s arm to bring him further down the beach, without waiting for an answer from him.

“hey- how are you feeling now?” yeji crouched down, holding your hand and gently rubbing her thumb against it.

“better, i think” you answered, trying to put on a smile for her, even though you were still shaken up from what happened earlier.

“where did the others go? i didn’t even get to thank yeonjun-” you raised your body a little bit, looking around the beach.

“don’t even worry about that right now.” yeji was quick to push your shoulders back down. yeji knew why beomgyu was so quick to take yeonjun away. she knew how angry he was with him for leaving you alone so carelessly, and she knew how he was also angry with himself for not acting faster earlier. witnessing them arguing wouldn’t have done you any good. “just rest a little bit more so we can go back home. i’m sure you’ll have another opportunity to thank him soon.”

you looked down. you felt guilty for what happened, even though what happened was outside of your control. you let out a groan and brought a hand to your head, a pounding ache taking over.

“does it hurt?“ yeji asked. you removed your head from its place, only to see a small trail of blood dripping down your fingers.

“everything okay?” you heard yeonjun shout, jogging towards you. he was out of breath, bringing his hands to rest on his knees, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red; it seemed like he ran all the way back. beomgyu, however, was nowhere in sight. “let me see” his eyebrows furrowed as he came closer. he moved your hair behind your ear to inspect your injury. “it’s nothing serious. it’s just a surface level wound, but we need to clean it up.”

“here, beomgyu gave this to me earlier” yeonjun took the med kit from yeji and placed it beside you on the sunbed.

“please tell me if it hurts”

you nodded and he grabbed your chin, then started to gently dab your head with a wet cloth. your eyes shily glanced over at his face. you didn’t realise until then just how close he was sitting next to you. his eyes were only focused on your wound and he was biting his lips in concentration. his hands were shaking a little bit, too afraid to cause you any type of pain. unknowingly, you were holding your breath, heart beating out of control. you couldn’t understand why it was that your body was reacting this way, even in a situation like this, how he still had you wrapped around his finger, melting under his feathery touches.

“this should make it heal faster” yeonjun said, putting some ointment on the wound before covering it with a bandaid. “-and this too” he whispered, leaving a small kiss on that same spot. “i’m so sorry y/n. you are still a beginner and i shouldn’t have left you all alone like that, it was stupid-“ you stopped his rambling by pulling him in for a hug. “hey- don’t blame yourself so harshly. what happened was outside of your control. if you were there maybe you would have gotten injured too.” you hugged him tighter “i wouldn’t have wanted to see you hurt either.”

“you’re right...” yeonjun sighed, combing his fingers through your hair “still- i’ll find a way to make it up to you, i promise.”

“hey- i know you’re having a sweet moment and all, but it’s getting late and we should really get going” yeji interrupted. you slowly moved away from yeonjun, whispering a ‘thank you’ against his ear before finally letting go and getting up.

once at home, you hopped into the shower to wash off the salt off your body. you changed into more comfortable clothes, slumping into your bed, your body melting into the mattress. you were mindlessly scrolling through social media, your eyes feeling heavier with each minute that passed. you were on the point of dozing off when you saw a notification appear on your screen.

(gyu :) )

[beomgyu, 9:17 pm] y/n! how are you feeling now? :(

[y/n, 9:17 pm] definitely better now, especially because of your help :)

[beomgyu, 9:17 pm] i’m glad

[beomgyu, 9:18 pm] are you busy rn?

[y/n, 9:18 pm] no, why?

[beomgyu, 9:18 pm] look outside the window ;)

confused, you got up from the bed and peeked through the window blinds, spotting a smiling beomgyu waving his hand at you from the sidewalk. you couldn’t help but return his smile as you looked at him, already in his pyjamas with a jacket over his shirt and a small basket in his hand. you opened the window and shouted “wait- i’ll be down in a sec.” stumbling as you rushed to climb down the stairs and put on your shoes. you quickly ran your fingers through your hair and took a deep breath to regain your composure. you were taken aback when you saw beomgyu right in front of you, hand raised up to knock on the door just as you opened it.

“hi.” he spoke softly.

“hi-” you breathed out “want to come in?”

“ah-“ he cleared his throat, his eyes meeting the floor instead of your face “i just wanted to bring you this.” he brought the hand holding the basket in front of you, its contents hidden away with the help of a pink wrapping paper. you pushed it to the side, careful so as not to rip it too much. your eyes widened once you discover small boxes with fresh assorted fruits like strawberries, cherries, grapes...and a tiny bear plush placed in the middle of everything.

“thought these might cheer you up a bit. i snuck those away from the bar once my shift ended. don’t tell on me though, soobin might kick my ass if he finds out”

“beomgyu-“ you stammered “thank you, but you didn’t have to-” you were pushing the basket back towards him, overwhelmed by his sweet gestures. he caught your wrists with his hands, moving them towards your chest.

“but i did have to” he leaned down, bringing his face to the same level as your own “if i saw you smile, then that means it was worth it, even if i do get in trouble” his words rolled off his tongue slowly, with a low rasp. you noticed the way beomgyu’s eyes moved away from yours to glance at your lips, then going back to the floor, stopping for a second, hesitating, before deciding to quickly steal away a kiss from your cheek.

“go back inside now, you should get some rest.”

without even realising it, you brought a hand up to your face, touching the same spot he just caressed with his lips. he tilted his head, chuckling after seeing your flustered expression. “good night, y/n” he put his hands in his pockets, turning his back to walk towards the alleyway.

what you weren’t aware of though, was just how loudly beomgyu’s heart was beating against his chest.

───⋆☆─────────────

the end of august, also known as the start of the party season at the beach. with tourists ending their trips and leaving soon, as well as with the weather on the cusp of changing, the workers at the beach started preparing for their annual series of events (which was actually more of an excuse to make people purchase more alcohol)

“we’re doing what tonight?” you asked yeji, resisting the urge to throw the pillow in your lap at her.

“listen- i know you’re finding out about this late, but-“

“but?” you pressed your lips together, lifting an eyebrow.

“but you would have declined the invitation right away-“ yeji sighed “now it’s too late to tell them that we’re not going. remember our promise? to take up on new opportunities?”

you remained silent, crossing your arms and glaring at yeji.

“come on, it’s the first party. if you don’t like it then i won’t pressure you to go to the rest. let’s just try it and see how it goes” yeji got on her knees, holding your hand and looking at you with pleading eyes.

“fine.” you gave in, yeji’s words managed to persuade you yet again. she squealed, capturing you in a tight hug. she wasted no time to drag you into her room and help you get ready. her face was basically radiating as she showed you all the makeup and outfit choices, there was just no way you could refuse her anymore. you just let her do her thing, putting all your trust into her tastes.

the more you walked towards the beach, the louder the music was becoming. you were tempted to do a full 180 and make a run for it, but your conscience didn’t allow you. plus, you truly believed that yeji would simply take her heels off to go after you and drag you back. you felt out of place in the big crowd of people, overwhelmed by the loud beats combining with people shouting in a poor attempt to communicate with each other. you were busy frantically scanning the area for a familiar figure, but you somehow missed yeonjun coming right in your direction. you were taken aback when you noticed him standing in front of you.

“hi, cutie. glad to see you here” yeonjun greeted you.

“hi-“ your eyes trailed down over his body. his white button-up shirt wasn’t closed all the way, giving you a peek at his exposed chest and the delicate silver necklace sitting on top of it. you bit your lip trying to shift your focus from the pretty man in front of you back to the conversation. he winked at you when you tried to make eye contact with him again. shit. your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red; he definitely noticed you staring at him. you quickly turned around and took a shot from the drinks table close to you. you grimaced as the alcohol sent a dash of fire down your throat, yet you still extended your hand for more.

yeji grabbed your arm “hey- hey, take it easy. we only just arrived.”

“and i’ve already embarrassed myself” you whispered back, covering your face with your hands.

“i’m sure whatever you did isn’t that bad. you’re gonna embarrass yourself more if you get wasted within the first hour anyway.”

you pressed your lips together. she was right- you just didn’t want to admit it out loud. “come on, i want to check out the dessert table. i heard soobin did a pretty good job with that” yeji said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along with her.

yeji tested out almost every single dessert at the party. each time she took a bite of something new, she insisted that you tried it too because “this one was really the best”. you found it amusing but in some way, she was right, soobin really outdid himself this time. the cupcakes in particular were your favorite. the cake was so soft and moist, and the frosting was soft like velvet, immediately melting down on your tongue. they were seriously addicting. you were about to dive into another vanilla cupcake when you felt a tap on your shoulder. it was yeonjun who came up to you again.

“y/n- join me for a dance?”

your eyes glanced back at yeji, then at the cupcake in your hand. you were very tempted to say yes, but you didn’t want to leave her alone either. the idea of abandoning your cupcake didn’t sound that good either.

“go ahead” yeji said, snatching the cupcake you were holding. “i was about to go to hueningkai anyway- i wanted to have a look at his playlist. have fun you two” she sent a wink your way before quickly leaving, not even sparing you a chance to argue.

“shall we?” yeonjun stretched out his hand for you to take, which you nervously took. he led you to the middle of the dance floor, making you internally panic. having not gone to many parties in your lifetime, you weren’t confident in showing off your dance moves, especially right in front of yeonjun.

yeonjun must have sensed your worries, dipping down to whisper in your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “just focus on me- don’t mind everyone else.” you were still holding his hand, so he took this chance to lift his arm up and playfully spin you around. you couldn’t help but giggle, slowly starting to ease up. you tried to ignore everyone else invading your vision, focusing on him and only him as you swayed your body along the rhythm of the music. you couldn’t help yourself but grab two more shots, one for you and one for yeonjun, when you saw one of the baristas coming down your way with a silver platter full of alcoholic drinks. ‘it’s for a little confidence boost’ you told yourself. for tonight, you were finally allowing yourself to be free from any worries, and to simply enjoy the moment.

you weren’t aware of how much time had passed since you stepped foot on the dance floor, and you were very tempted to take a break and let your legs rest for a while. but it seemed like the dj wasn’t going to let that happen anytime soon. the up-beat music that had been playing for the past hour was suddenly changed to a slow, jazzy song. you looked up at yeonjun with wide eyes, and he bit his lips, looking as surprised as you did. yet, he didn’t pull away. his hands dropped down from their position on your shoulders, trailing down your arms and then moving to your waist, leaving hot trails everywhere he touched your body. your body unconsciously moved closer to his, a bright red blush adoring your cheeks. your mind couldn’t focus on anything else but his hands on you. the sound of the music combining with your loud heartbeat made you feel light-headed.

“i want to kiss you” he whispered, resting his forehead on yours, his grip on your waist tightening “but if i do then i might not be able to contain myself.” he breathed out. your hand moved up to the nape of his neck, about to give in to the sweet temptation, when all of a sudden taehyun lightly tugged yeonjun by the collar of his shirt, creating distance between the two of you.

“loverboy, go check up on soobin, he’s having trouble setting up the fog machine”

“right now?”

“yes, now. come on” taehyun grabbed yeonjun, not letting him argue. ‘strange’ you remembered that the fog machine was already on when you arrived.

yeji and beomgyu appeared by your side just a few seconds later “where’s yeonjun?”

“ah- soobin was searching for him. guess i was kind of abandonded” you tried to laugh it off “can we go somewhere quieter?” the music is starting to mess with my brain.

“i’ll grab some drinks and i’ll meet you near the shore, there’s some log benches there.”

you nodded, holding onto yeji’s sleeve so as not to lose her. you felt like you could finally breathe again once you stepped foot on the sand. you couldn’t lie, parties did seem fun, but those where you’re almost completely surrounded by strangers? not so much. you held on until most people left, enjoying yeji’s and beomgyu’s company, cracking silly jokes as you kept on drinking. it was only after midnight when the rest of the boys joined you, with a few of the other people lingering around.

“anybody up for a few rounds of truth or dare?” yeji shouted.

“i’m in” beomgyu replied, raising his hand.

“i guess i’m in too” you sighed. truth or dare wasn’t really your cup of tea, but you didn’t want to ruin the other’s mood.

“everybody gather around the fire then” yeonjun said “and remember- no buts, no maybes” he snickered.

you noticed how beomgyu looked at you and opened his mouth, then closed it back again after yeonjun said down next to him. his body seemed to slump down after that; you wondered whether it was you who he wanted to sit close to.

“i’ll be the one to get this started” yeonjun stated, looking at every person over the hot flames of the fire, only for his eyes to land back on the person to his right. “beomgyu, truth or dare?”

beomgyu paused for a moment, then answered simply “truth.”

“you’re starting off easy?” he asked, the words rolling off his tongue with a playful, yet mischievous tone “well then- beomgyu, do you have a crush?”

“yes.” he answered shortly. beomgyu was sitting right across from you, and you could notice his body slowly tensing up as his arms hugged his waist tighter.

“and is your crush by any chance here with us?” yeonjun probed on further.

“that’s 2 questions” beomgyu frowned, looking at him.

“you didn’t let me finish.” yeonjun raised his hands defensively.

“yes- they are.” he answered then took a sip of his beer. however, what you failed to notice was him sneaking a glance in your direction as he said that.

everybody around you let out an “ooo” at beomgyu’s answer; people were giggling and nudging beomgyu, teasing him to reveal the name of the person. for some reason, the fact that he had a crush was tugging at your heartstrings. you were secretly hoping that the person he was talking about was you, but you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself.

“my turn now-“ beomgyu took another sip, his eyes scanned the room, then stopped on your figure. “y/n, truth or dare?”

you pondered for a moment. “truth.” you didn’t want to be the first one to try a dare, even if it was from beomgyu. he smiled “have you ever been in a relationship?” he asked, eyes sparkling from the light of the fire.

“no, actually.” you sighed “i was always too busy stressing over school- and look where that got me” you looked down and chuckled drily.

beomgyu nodded, seemingly getting a bit lost in thought. he wanted to continue, to talk to you more, but he restrained himself from doing so. he knew that this wasn’t the right moment to discuss your private life, not with everyone else around.

“let’s see- who should be the next victim?” you clicked your tongue “soobin- what do you prefer?”

───⋆☆─────────────

two hours of truth or dare later, soobin’s last shot was the one that tipped him off, and yeonjun offered to guide him back home before he had the chance to throw up on the beach. a few people stated that they were going to the bathroom, but in fact never returned; you didn’t want to know why. yeji was too tired to stay there any longer, so she left you behind. meaning, it was only you and beomgyu left on the now quiet beach. the fire was dying down, and beomgyu scooted closer to you, offering to share a blanket.

“how does one more round sound?” he asked you.

“i wouldn’t mind that” you laughed, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden.

“truth or dare?” beomgyu whispered.

“dare.”

“dare, huh...?” he muttered “i dare you to dive into the water.” beomgyu smirked, playfully tilting his head to the side.

you were taken aback by his words, but your stubbornness didn’t allow you to back down.“okay.” you said, looking into his eyes. “turn around then. i don’t want my dress to get wet.”beomgyu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to accept his dare. still, he did just like you asked.

you slid your dress off, then carefully placed it on one of the seats. you inhaled air deeply into your lungs as you approached the water, then jumped straight in, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“truth or dare?” you shouted.

“dare.” beomgyu shouted back.

“i dare you to join me.”

beomgyu wasted no time taking off his shirt then quickly diving into the water, splashing you in the process. you immediately returned the favour when he got back up to the surface.

“hey- you’re gonna pay for that” he jokingly threatened you.

“make me.”

you both attacked each other with water, only the sound of your laughter filling up the quietness of the now peaceful night. “okay- i surrender.” beomgyu shouted again, catching your wrists with his hands to finally make you stop. he got closer to you, your laughter dying down as his close proximity made you feel nervous.

“you look so beautiful in the moonlight” he said as he hooked his finger around yours, guiding you around in the water. and you followed him mindlessly, as if you as if he’s got you right under his spell. his hands detached themselves from your own, moving to your waist. and you were so close to him, nose to nose, his breath combining his yours, his eyelashes tickling your lids- and yet, you still couldn’t allow yourself. you couldn’t allow yourself to be victim of your foolish desires.

you looked over your shoulder, worried that someone might have come back and noticed what was happening. what if someone saw you two? saw the two of you fooling around in the blue waves of the sea, what if someone saw his fingers trailing your back or how your own nested at his nape? your brain kept thinking of all the possible ways you might get in trouble, fighting to remain in power as his hot breath gathered itself at your neck, distracting yourself from any rational thoughts.

“y/n! are you still here?” you suddenly heard a voice shouting, which you recognised was yeji’s.

“yeah-“ you shouted back “don’t worry, i’ll be back soon no need to wait for me”

“send me a text when you leave!” she shouted again before walking away.

you looked at beomgyu with apologetic eyes.

“guess i can’t have you all for myself tonight.” he looked at you with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “yeji’s stealing you away from me again.” he laughed.

“i’m sorry...” you whispered, lowering your head.

"there's no need to apologise", he said, a beat of heart and a pause following his words, "it's getting late anyway, you should rest, especially after such a night." the wind picked up your sigh before it could reach him, before it could whisper to him to come closer again, to take a step towards you, warm hands to envelop your waist and soft hair locks to tickle your skin again. you took a step back. "what an eventful night" you said under your breath. "what an eventful night", he picks up your words just as they roll off your tongue, giving you a smile. the air between you kept getting thicker and thicker, unspoken words and wishes weighing the both of you further into the soft shore. “wait just a second- i’ll be right back.” he rushed to get out of the water and sprinted to the bar. as he was coming back you could see him holding a small towel, which he handed to you.

“here, it’s nothing much, but i thought it might help you dry off- at least a little bit” he said rubbing the nape of his neck.

“it’s great” you smiled “thank you, beomgyu.”

he was also holding something behind his back, which he only revealed after you were done using the towel and putting your dress back on.

“have this too...” he looked away, the tips of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink. “i don’t want you to feel cold” he was holding out his white button up shirt for you to wear. you could feel your body reacting the same way as you thanked him and slided your arms into the sleeves. the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the soft material setting your heart on fire.

the walk back home was quiet, spent with the both of you sneaking a few shy glances at each other, his hand brushing against your ever so often, itching to hold yours again. for the first time during your stay you were disappointed that your house was so close to the beach, because it meant that you and beomgyu had to part ways so quickly.

“oh! your shirt- i almost forgot. let me take it off-“

his hands reacted fast, stopping you before you could do that “no- keep it, please. it looks good on you”

“o-oh. thank you” you stuttered. the both of you hesitated to part ways once again, too enticed by each other’s presence.

───⋆☆─────────────

beomgyu's ending | yeonjun's ending

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