#but he finally put in the grade and it's an a so I must not have done as terribly as I'd thought 💀

[menlove]

scraped through another semester without getting a b let's goooo

[paarksunghoon]

Jake finally taking you after months of uncertainty whether you like him or not. Pushing you against a wall, rough and passionate making out, and him being a softdom. Pleaseeeeeeee.

i imagined jake wearing glasses 😋 bonus points if the neighbors are heeseung, jay and sunghoon and they all hear jake fuck you lol

***

It all started with a stupid semester project.

Jake hates group work. He hates relying on people and he hates when his partners don’t complete their portion of the work. Jake thinks they’re lazy and good-for-nothing, even though he knows he’s being dramatic. He hates being the only person to contribute to the Google doc and he loathes it when the grade is dependent on everyone as a whole and not individually.

He meets you in Advanced Research Methods. It’s a required class for mathematical and physics majors in order to graduate, and Jake has pushed off taking it for as long as he could because he hates the idea of researching data with a partner. He knows the professor well enough to assume that there would be group work (he assumes correctly) but absolutely nothing could’ve prepared him from laying eyes on you for the first time.

When Dr. Kang announces the partners for the semester-long research project, Jake’s tapping his pen against his leg when he starts to hear names being called out. His ears perk up when he hears his own. When your name is said, Jake looks up and finds that you’re staring right at him.

You look so put together. Jake doesn’t know what it is about you that makes you look like you’ve got it all figured out. Maybe it’s because your hair looks particularly neat compared to all of the other people sitting around him. Perhaps it’s your laptop and notebook right next to it. Whatever it is, he finds himself a bit nervous to inevitably approach you in order to begin working on the project.

Dr. Kang allows the students to mingle and get to know one their project partners during the last ten minutes of class to exchange information. When you take initiative to walk to where Jake is sitting and occupy the seat next to him, he finds himself stuttering.

“H-Hey,” he says pathetically. You’re prettier up close.

“Hi! Jake, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Here’s my phone. Why don’t you put your number in.”

Jake’s hands are almost shaking as he holds your phone between his hands and settles with ‘Jake Sim - Research Methods’ as his contact so you remember him. When he hands it back to you, he watches you type away before he feels his own phone buzz.

Unknown Number: hi! it’s yn.

He saves the contact quickly before class ends and the two of you decide to wait until the next class to set a time to meet to work on the project.

Jake’s worries about group projects disappear when he begins working with you. You’re punctual, never a minute late when the two of you agree to meet after classes to work on it. You contribute to brainstorming sessions and crunch data numbers like you’re the best at it. Jake finds that he’s able to divide up the work evenly and sleeps at a decent hour because he doesn’t have to stay up late to finish an extra portion.

Your intellect is attractive to him. You’re able to explain difficult theories and statistical processes to him better than any professor he’s ever hard. Only, it becomes hard to listen to you talk because he keeps staring at your lips.

They’re so kissable. Jake wonders what they must feel like against his own. He imagines grabbing your face with his hands and planting one on you when you talk about SPSS but he doesn’t act on it, fearing that he may make you uncomfortable. Jake loves it when you start to wear shorter dresses and skirts because the weather is warming up. He likes seeing your thighs stick to the seats and watching you pull the fabric down to prevent flashing everybody.

As the months go by, he realizes he’s learned a lot about you. You’re not from around and you dream of working in astrophysics one day. You love the color green and you’re obsessed with tangerines to the point where he bought a bag just to present you with one at every session. You’re a night owl and you love all kinds of music except country, and you prefer coffee over tea.

Jake also knows that your body is gorgeous. Your legs look stunning in shorter skirts and your tits look beautiful when they almost spill out of your crop tops. He knows what your thighs look like when you sit and how your skirt rides up to accommodate the new angle you’ve put yourself in.

It messes with his head because sometimes, he swears you might like him, too.

You laugh at his corny math jokes and ask him to hang out with you on the weekends. You let him buy you coffee and meals when it’s late into the night. You let him walk you home and you even allow Jake to nap on your bed when he comes over to work on the project after long, hot days.

It all comes to a boiling point one Thursday evening when he’s alone with you in your dorm. Your roommate is gone until Monday and Jake is sitting on the bed whilst you’re sitting on the desk chair, stretching your arms above your head until your shirt rides up. He can see your skin and wonders how soft you must be.

For just a moment, Jake wonders what your bare skin would feel like against his palms. Your breasts look plush to the touch and he’d bet anything that your pussy would feel so amazing against his fingers and cock when you’re wet. He imagines sliding his dick in and out of your tight hole, pumping until he’s coming inside of you and making you messier than before.

But he regrets this thought because he’s half hard in his sweatpants and there’s no way to hide it.

“I, uh, think I’m gonna head back to my dorm,” Jake announces as he puts a notebook in front of his crotch.

“Already?” You turn around and pout at him. “But you got here thirty minutes ago.”

Jake shuffles to the door. “Sorry, Y/N. I think I’ll do my portion there.”

“Jake, I really need you here to complete my part. We’re supposed to turn in the second half of the report this week and I need your help to do it.”

God, you sound so hot when you’re asking him to stay.

He panics when you stand from your seat to approach him as he motions to open the door. The sound of your chair scraping against the floor startles him until he drops the notebook that’s been covering his semi-hard dick. You gasp.

“Are you hard?”

Bashfully, Jake sighs and tries to back away from you. “This I why I wanted to leave, okay? I…I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You look at his crotch and then back up at him. “Why are you hard?”

Jake’s face heats up even more. “I-I don’t know.”

“Jaeyun.” Your voice sounds so delicate saying his name like that.

“It’s because I like you and you’re wearing shorts that leave nothing to the imagination, okay?!” He sighs. “I’ve liked you since the second time we worked on the project because that’s when I knew I could rely on you. Everything else was just circumstance and now I need to go to my dorm so I can take care of this.”

“I can help,” you tell him. You say it just shy of confidently and he can’t tell if you feel bad for him or not.

“You don’t have to say or do anything. I already made this weird.”

You force yourself to stop looking at his cock. Knowing Jake, he’s too embarrassed to realize that your proposition is genuine and that you’ve harbored a crush on him since becoming partners with him too. So you muster up enough courage to press your lips to his and hope the message is clear.

Jake’s eyes widen against your mouth and you pull back after a few seconds to see the astonished look on his face. “I like you too, dummy. Have since you started bringing me tangerines after knowing me for two weeks.”

“Really?”

You nod. “Mhm. Can I kiss you again?”

Jake captures your mouth in a kiss the way he wants to—his hands grab your jaw and he pushes his lips against yours until he’s turning you. You feel your back hit the hard wall and gasp into the kiss, allowing Jake to lick your bottom lip with his tongue. The sensation dances across your chest and you gush out a stream of wetness at Jake’s urgency.

“Could’ve been kissing you all this time,” he mutters against your neck as he drags his lips down your skin. “Feel what you do to me.”

Without detaching himself from you, Jake puts your hand on his hardened cock and hears you whimper at the feeling. He coaxes you to squeeze him through the fabric and moans against your neck when you do.

“Such a good girl, listening to me like that.” He pulls away and pushes his hips into your palm. “I’m always hard for you.”

“R-Really?”

“You’re so hot, Y/N. You have to know that.”

Jake doesn’t let you respond. He grips your waist and pushes his plump lips back on yours and kisses you with fervor until your own lips have become swollen. The two of you emit breathy moans in the quiet of your dorm room and your free hand pushes Jake’s sweats down until his cock springs free. The hand around his dick collects the precum that has oozed from his swollen head and you smear it over his skin.

“Fuck me,” he moans to himself. “You’re perfect.”

“Your cock is perfect,” you choke. “So big.”

“Yeah? Can you spit on it for me?” You do as he says, leaning forward until a wad of it touches his slit. Jake smiles at you lustfully and squeezes your hips. “Good girl. Always so good, aren’t you? Makes me wonder how good you’ll be for me when I fuck you.”

“I’ll be so good,” you whine as you twist your hand up and down his length. Jake resumes kissing your neck and the electricity makes your pussy quiver. “I want you inside of me now.”

“Now? You think you’re wet enough?” You nod. “We’ll just have to see, now won’t we?”

Jake’s movements are hurried as he pushes your shorts down until they’re at your knees. You aren’t lying. You’re really wet. The cute baby pink panties you wear are soiled and he feels it when his fingers come in contact with the fabric.

The short whimper you let out is enough for Jake to short circuit. He doesn’t believe this is real. Even less so when you maneuver his cock until the tip it pushing against your covered core, gathering your wetness to coat his cock.

“Fuck, you really are perfect,” Jake whispers against you. He pulls back to watch as you stroke him while keeping the tip plush against you as if to coax him into fucking your hole. Jake’s mouth hangs open at the delicious sensation of the wet fabric against his cock head and decides you’re wet enough to take all of him.

He relishes in your gasp when he forces you to turn around. You push your ass towards him and Jake slaps your right ass cheek with his big hands until the sound reverberates in the room. Jake pulls your panties down until they join your shorts halfway down your legs and pushes his cock against you.

“How are you so fucking wet?” he mutters.

“It’s all for you.”

“Fuck yes it is.”

Without bothering to pull his sweatpants off, Jake uses his hand to slide the tip up and down your slit until you’re arching your back and clutching the wall to the best of your ability. The wet splashes make him even hornier and he pushes the head into you until you envelop him.

Slowly, Jake pushes into you inch by inch and holds you by the waist. He rubs your bare skin and coos at you when you wiggle your ass to get more of him. The pain feels exceptional. You can’t remember a time where you fucked someone as big as Jake and you don’t want to live without his cock inside of you like this.

Jake takes his shirt off to prevent it from obstructing the view of his cock disappearing into your pussy. He pushes himself inside of you until he’s completely sheathed and catches you by surprise. Jake silences your moan with a kiss to your mouth and rubs soothing circles on your waist, kissing you like his life depends on it while you get used to the new stretch.

He pushes his tongue against yours and uses the spit to coat his lips. You taste exactly like the pink lemonade you’ve been drinking all night and the innocent flavor makes his hips buck into you.

“Fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Jake. Don’t make me wait.”

He obliges. Jake fucks into you with all his might and his strong, muscular arms hold you in place as you push your chest against the wall and hold onto the door handle. The string of moans you let out is surely loud enough to let the neighbors know what’s happening behind the door but neither of you care about that right now. Jake wants to make you come and he’s slinging his hips into you from an upward angle, bending his knees to make sure his cock impales your g-spot.

“You’re so hot,” he moans. “I think about fucking you all the time.”

“M-Me too,” you confess.

“Yeah? What do you think about?”

“I think about—Ah!—Fingering me in class and eating my pussy.”

“Fuck yeah. I can do that for you.” Jake grips your hips tighter. “I can make you cum.”

“Make me cum, Jaeyun,” you plead, pushing your ass back. “I wanna cum on your cock.”

Jake pistons his hips into you until you’re parallel to the floor, holding onto the handle for dear life. He pushes into you so hard that you’re afraid you’d fall if it weren’t for his strong grip on you. Jake pushes and pushes, saving his orgasm until you come first.

It hits you like a tidal wave crashing over the shore. Your orgasm is long and drawn out as he keeps his brutal pace. Your release seeps from between the two or you and drips down his balls. Jake bites his lip at the tingling sensation and smacks your ass when you clench around him.

“Use me to make yourself cum,” you tell him. “Please, Jake. Please cum for me.”

“Say less, Princess.”

His orgasm follows shortly behind yours. Jake pulls out after five more thrust and pumps his cock until his cum spurts all over the globes of your ass. The warm, thick liquid feels so good against your skin that you push your bare pussy against him until Jake is letting his hot cock rest on you too.

When he regains his breath, he spots a roll of paper towels and gives your cheek a quick kiss before cleaning the both of you up. His touch is gentle, juxtaposed to his fucking just a few minutes prior. Jake cleans himself up before wiping the cum off of you and wiping your pussy gently too. He coaxes you to change into fresh undergarments and lets you collapse onto the bed with your eyes on him.

“I really do like you,” Jake says. “I didn’t say that just to fuck you.”

You pull him down and kiss him until all that’s left is soft pecks and the sound of lips smacking. Jake lets you pull away to lay on top of his chest and you feel him kiss the crown of your head.

“Sleep, Y/N. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[itsmarsss]

cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

(from the vault)

You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?

Words: 6,164

Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo

[. . .]

"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.

Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”

“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.

“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.

“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”

“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”

“Hell yeah!”

“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 

“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”

“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.

“And it’s not negotiable.”

“What your dad said.”

"Dad!”

“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I tried," he shrugged.

“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”

“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”

“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”

“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”

Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 

“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”

“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”

“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”

Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”

“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”

“Crap.”

“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.

. . .

“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 

“Dude! Can you be quiet?”

“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.

Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Why do I need to be quiet?”

“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”

Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”

Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"

Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”

“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.

. . .

You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 

“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”

“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 

“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”

“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”

“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”

“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.

A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 

“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.

“No!”

“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.

“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”

“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.

“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Greg!” she yelled again.

“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 

“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”

“Who’s y/n?”

“Your babysitter!”

He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"

“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"

“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."

"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.

You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.

“I’m so sorry about this."

“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."

“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"

“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.

. . .

You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.

“So. You’re not an old lady.”

“Nope.”

“Are you in high school?”

“Yes I am.”

“What grade are you in?"

“I’m a senior!”

“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”

“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”

“Lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“He makes my life hell!”

“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“That’s just your job.”

“Trust me no girls like him.”

“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”

“Can we play video games?”

“Depends on what you have.”

“Apocalypse of The Damned?”

“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”

“You’re gonna like it I swear!”

“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”

“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.

. . .

“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 

“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”

“No! You can- you can trust us.”

“Is he annoying?”

He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”

You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 

hi mrs heffley

how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt

You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.

“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”

“Is it Rowley?”

“Sorry?”

“The friend, is it Rowley?”

“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”

“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”

“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”

“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”

“And Rodrick?”

“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Bye!” You hung up.

“So?”

“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”

Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.

“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’

“Uh yeah, I am.”

“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”

“Rowley!”

“What? You did!”

You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.

The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”

“Yeah!”

He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.

“He told me to bring it to him.”

“Why?"

"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."

"You don't have to do it.”

“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”

“Not with me here. I got you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Chill out.”

. . .

“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.

“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.

“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.

“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.

“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.

"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."

“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.

“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”

“What?”

“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”

“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.

“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”

“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.

“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”

“Zathura.”

“What the fuck is Zathura?”

“Don’t swear in front of them!”

“Sorry.”

Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?

You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

They both slowly nodded their head no. 

“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”

“We’re not five!"

“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.

. . .

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.

“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.

“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”

“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”

“No.”

Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.

Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.

The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.

“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.

“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”

He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 

What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.

“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.

“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.

“What?”

“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”

“Uh sure. Thanks.”

He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”

“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”

“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?

“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”

“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”

“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”

“What?”

“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”

“Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”

“What?”

“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”

He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”

“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.

“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”

“Y/N.”

“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”

“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”

“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”

“Aren’t all brothers?”

“I’m not.”

“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”

“No I’m not!”

“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”

“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”

You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

"Right. He told you about that.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”

“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.

He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"

It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”

“I think you should let me start over.”

“But-”

“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.

“Okay, we ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes!”

“Both of you?”

“Yup.”

“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”

Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 

“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“Why, did you actually like me?”

“Just a little.”

You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”

“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 

“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 

You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.

To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey. You not have anything to do?”

“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”

You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”

“You wanna watch something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well a real movie.”

“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”

“You actually do?”

“Yes!”

“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”

“Uh, an adult movie?”

“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 

“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”

You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.

“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”

“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”

“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.

“Well you can finish it if you want!”

“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”

“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”

“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”

“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”

“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”

“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”

“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.

“Are you sure?” His mom asked.

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.

“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”

“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”

You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.

You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”

“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”

“What?”

“So I can put the address on the GPS?”

“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 

“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.

“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”

“I know. I uh. I want to.”

“You wanna do the dishes?”

“I wanna help you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Fine.”

You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 

“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”

“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?

. . .

On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.

Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”

“Miss me, kid?”

“Are they going out again?”

“Apparently.”

“Mom, Y/N’s here!”

“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”

“No problem! Where are you off to today?”

“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”

“Oh he did?” That was strange.

“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”

“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”

“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”

“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”

“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 

“Yeah.”

"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 

“Okay bye everyone!”

Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.

“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.

“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.”

“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.

“What do you mean, assface?”

“Did you just offer to help with the food?”

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.

“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”

“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.

“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”

“Yes!” Greg yelled.

“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 

Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.

“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”

He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”

“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”

“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”

“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”

He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”

“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”

“Oh you think I’m cool?”

“Yeah.” 

The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.

“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”

“I’m not trying to impress you!”

“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”

“Well I was.”

“You were.”

“Did it work?”

“Why’d you want to impress me?”

“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”

“Huh. Maybe I do.”

“Cool.”

“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.

“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.

“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 

“Hey Rowley. You alright?”

“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”

“You did?”

“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”

“Cool! You should tell Greg!”

“Will you play with us?”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”

“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”

“Oh I don-”

“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”

“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”

“Deal.”

“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.

“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.

You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”

“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”

“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.

Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 

“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.

You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.

“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”

“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.

It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”

You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 

“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”

“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”

“No.”

“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”

“Oh do they?”

“Don’t you?”

“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”

“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."

“Shame.”

“What?”

“I said let’s go.”

You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 

“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?

Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.

“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 

“Hey!”

You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.

“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.

“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.

“Nope, we know how that ends.”

“But we’ve changed!”

“It’s been less than a week!”

“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.

“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”

“With the little kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.

They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.

It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 

“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.

You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.

“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.

You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.

Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”

“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.

To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.

TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”

“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”

“What would be your style?”

“I don’t know. Hard rock.”

“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”

“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 

You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”

He stopped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”

“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”

“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”

“I’m well-informed.”

“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.

He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”

“Uh- huh.”

He gave in. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay”

“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”

“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”

“Uh. Bad boys?”

You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether they’re nice to us.”

“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”

“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”

“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.

“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”

“Uh. You? Obviously.”

Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.

“What?”

“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”

“Right.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Okay I ‘m lost.”

“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.

Okay, sudden much? “What?”

“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”

“Right. But as a… date?”

“Yeah.”

You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I said sure.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 

“Y/N! How are we?”

You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”

“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 

“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”

“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”

Oh, right. Shit. He was.

“Yeah I uh, think so.”

With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.

“It’s called fashion, dad!”

Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”

“I guess.”

He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”

“Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“You’re not a rockstar.”

“Not yet."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.

"Just take it!” 

You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 

“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”

“You kinda are.”

“Shut up!”

You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”

He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”

“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”

His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”

Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”

“I think it is.”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.

“Shut up.”

“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”

“Yeah but we’re not dating.”

“Not yet.”

“Shut up!”

“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”

“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”

“You can manage.”

“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”

“Deal.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

[. . .]

A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!

[ckret2]

Hi! I don't remember if anyone asked this, but do you have any headcanons about Shermie Pines?

Sure, here's the big one.

I've decided to resolve the "if he's the baby then Mabel & Dipper are the product of two generations of 15-year-old parents; if he's older than Stan & Ford and maybe already out of the house then where is he and who's the baby?" problem the most ridiculous way possible:

He IS the baby, but he grew 20 years in 10 years.

I don't mean he's a 10-year-old that looks 20, i mean that for every year he existed, he experienced two years of life. Like at the start of September he entered 1st grade and at the end of next May he exited 2nd grade, and nobody knows how, he didn't jump up a grade during winter break or something, everyone around him clearly remembers him going through nine months of school and then summer break and then another nine months of school, his first and second grade teachers both remember teaching him for a whole school year, but it happened within one year.

Nobody else is affected; they all remember experiencing two years of life with Shermie, but they didn't age two years too. Just him. No one can explain it. It's the darnedest thing.

"But how did this happen." Time magic. "What caused it?" Magic. "Did he experience every year twice?" No just once; the year was twice as long for him. "Then how did he experience two school years instead of one double length school year?" Magic. "How does that even work???" I'm not an expert on time magic.

Caryn told Ford about it, but he was busy with more PhD programs than any human should ever endure and assumed it was some kind of hyperbolic lie to communicate how fast it feels like Shermie's growing, so she's going "this sounds like one of your strange anomalous things you study, isn't this one of those things you study?" and he's like "uh huh that's great mom."

Stan, of course, didn't hear any of this, so the first he learns of it is during a reluctant family reunion soon after he takes over Ford's life and Caryn's like "and over there's your brother Shermie and his wife, I don't know if you've seen him since your master's degree, try to talk to them won't you?" and Stan goes "Shermie?? Isn't he supposed to be twelve, why's he look like a MAN? Whaddaya mean wife??? Is she pregnant????" and Caryn went "😏 I KNEW you were never listening on the phone."

Shermie gradually stopped experiencing life on double time and slowed down to age normally around his mid twenties (well, mid twenties from his perspective; around 13 according to his birth certificate). Filbrick and Caryn sort of agreed that getting married must have helped him "settle down" and they don't really question it.

Ford gets to learn this several hours after he gets home when he finally gets a break long enough to put two and two together and goes "wait, SHERMIE'S grandkids?? But he's barely in his forties, how does he have 12-year-old grandkids" and Stan tells him and Ford goes "You mean Mom was telling the truth?!"

That fall while Shermie's yelling "WHADDAYA MEAN YOU SWITCHED PLACES AND FELL INTO A SPACE PORTAL" Ford's yelling back "CAN I CARBON DATE YOUR FACE"

[wqnwoos]

Your first and only semester as TA throws your previously unassuming college life into disarray, fuelled almost entirely by the brown-eyed and charming student who’s slipping closer to failing with every lecture. And in return for your mathematical assistance, Lee Chan decides he’s going to set you up with the guy you’ve been persistently pining over for a year and a half. It’s a simple equation: you teach him calculus, and he’ll teach you how to flirt. Except, as you’re both quick to discover, mathematical equations don’t translate over to real life as easily as you’d expect.

as part of the svt ta collab hosted by @camandemstudios !

⇢ pairing: lee chan x ta!reader

⇢ genre: fluff, idiots2lovers, minor angst?

⇢ wc: 10.2k (i’m just as surprised as u are)

⇢ a/n: so many people to thank (the whole collab server for all the sprinting!!) but especial thank u to cam (@/highvern) and em (@/gyuswhore) for hosting this collab. they put SO much work into this and i couldn’t be more grateful to be part of it, so thank you both for everything!!! and thank you to alta (@/haologram) for being my first official beta ever and managing to convince me to not trash the whole thing <3

“I NEED YOUR help.”

Those are probably the last four words you expect to come out of Lee Chan’s mouth. Because you’ve graded his assignments and you’ve seen his work and you’re pretty sure he’s doing above average in the calculus class you’re TA’ing this semester. 

So when he manages to corner you after one of the lectures to ask for some extra tutoring, you’re startled, to say the least. “You need my help?”

He nods, once. You cock your head to the side, and your surprise must show on your face, because he fishes a slightly crumpled looking paper out of his bag. You recognise it as the latest quiz, one that, fortunately, landed on the other TA’s marking pile. Scrawled at the very top, in Joshua’s unforgiving red pen, is a glaringly large ‘F - 27%’.

“It was only a pop quiz,” you say encouragingly, hiding your sympathetic wince. “Doesn’t count for anything.”

“I can’t afford to let my grades slip,” he counters quickly, like he’s prepared for this. “Which they are And I really don’t get this module. I just think some extra time could help, but I’m terrible at teaching myself.”

You look at him for a long moment. He can’t be more than a year or two younger than you, this boy with eager brown eyes and a hopeful smile; it’s almost charming, how he leans forward in anticipation of your reply, how worried he is about one small test. And — well. You’ve seen the grade sheets, and his grades are slipping. Not drastically, but this is your job, after all.

“Well,” you say finally, glancing at your watch. “Why don’t you come to the office hours tomorrow, and we’ll go over the quiz? And we can go from there.”

He smiles then, so sudden and bright you almost feel caught in it. “Perfect!” he agrees, as he takes his quiz back, shoving it haphazardly into his bag. “I’ll see you then. Oh, wait — my name’s Chan, by the way.”

You cast him an amused look as you zip up your own bag. “I know that.”

“Oh! Cool! Nice! That’s — yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow!” And as he backs away he stumbles over his own feet, catching himself before he topples over. He sends you a sheepish, flushed smile that makes you smile too. You’re always quick to smile at the students, and you send off the younger boy with a wave. Despite being a math major who loves her subject, you know just how much people despise it. Especially calculus.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?” A light voice interrupts your thoughts, and you jump, before turning to face Hong Joshua with a smile just as sheepish as Lee Chan’s was only moments ago.

“Nothing much,” you say, laughing awkwardly. Trying to look anywhere but at his honey brown eyes, you shuffle papers as you continue. “Just about how much people hate math.”

Joshua smiles that breathtaking smile, and your stomach quite literally does a flip. “Why? People bullying you for being smart again?”

You’d mentioned to him that you got made fun of in high school once for liking math. He refuses to let it go: you roll your eyes at him. “No. It was just a train of thought.”

“People who hate math are just not as cool as us,” he says, picking up his own folder, flashing you another smile.

(Us. Your stomach could be Simone Biles, with the amount of somersaults it’s landing today.)

“But anyway,” he continues, checking the time with a frown, “I gotta go. I’ll see you around, dude.”

Dude. There it is: just as quickly as you inflate, you deflate, watching him leave with a wrinkled brow. The problem with Hong Joshua is that he makes it incredibly easy to fall for him — and all the while, he’ll remain incredibly oblivious. You’re just another one of the sorry suckers who isn’t careful enough to nip it in the bud. But really, can you be blamed, when he looks like that? When he acts like that, all sweet and caring and let-me-hold-open-the-door-for-you?

You snap yourself out of your reverie with a sigh. Back to reality, as your mother always says — and your reality is the pile of algebra waiting for you back home.

“What I don’t understand,” Seungkwan says thoughtfully, pacing Chan’s room with his hands folded behind his back, “is why you’re putting on cologne to go to office hours.”

Chan hears the know-it-all tone under his roommate’s pretension, and he resents it. Running a final hand through his hair, and glancing himself over in the mirror one more time, he turns back to Seungkwan with a frustrated scoff. “Does it matter?”

“A problem shared is a problem halved,” Seungkwan wheedles, “In this case, it’d be a problem thirded. Three’d. You know what I mean - there’s three of us to share your problem. Right, Vernon?”

Vernon just blinks from his seat on Chan’s bed, slow and confused. “I don’t really know what we’re talking about. But sure.”

“Nothing,” Chan answers brutally, snatching up his bag. “We’re talking about nothing. Because I don’t have a problem, and Seungkwan’s just being nosy.”

“Look at him!” Seungkwan gesticulates loudly to Vernon, “look how dressed up he is. For class — for calculus! Nobody dresses up for calculus!”

“Ahhh,” Vernon nods slowly, drawing it out; and then he pauses, furrows his brows and asks mildly, “But isn’t that just because he has a crush on his TA?”

Chan hisses; Seungkwan triumphs. “I knew it!” he declares with glee, “I knew there was something! Who is she? Do you have a picture?”

“Nobody,” Chan grinds out, grabbing his backpack and jamming his feet into his worn-out shoes, casting Vernon a resentful look. “And I do not have a picture. But if I did, I wouldn’t show you. Goodbye.” And with that magnificent gesture, he shuts the door firmly behind him.

He’s not late to office hours. He never is. In fact, he’s three minutes early, but you’re already there, along with one or two other classmates he knows by sight but not by name. You’re leaning over one of their desks, talking rapidly as you gesture to the papers in front of them, lanyard swinging.

Chan doesn’t have a crush on you, contrary to what seems to be popular belief. Well. Not a big one. Like, a teensy tiny one, maybe. He thinks you’re pretty, and you’re smart, and you’re incredibly kind. But does he have a crush on you? No. Are his intentions here solely to get to know you better, in order to have a crush on you? Yes. In fact, that’s exactly what this is. Pursuing the butterflies in his stomach. Just out of interest, he reminds himself, as he pushes open the door and you turn around. Pure, innocent interest.

Within an hour of his entrance, you’ve explained every one of Chan’s mistakes — and there were a lot — in digestible detail. Twice as efficient and twice as digestible as Lee, the old, weak-voiced professor with an evidently wrong glasses prescription. He says as much to you, which has you laughing and shaking your head. (“Don’t,” you scold, even as you smile, “he’s so nice, though.”)

The professor is nice. Chan thinks you’re nicer.

He leaves office hours even brighter than he entered. Those butterflies are multiplying.

And, as it turns out in the very next week, when there’s yet another pop quiz — Chan is under the suspicion that Professor Lee doesn’t plan his lessons and just shoves last year’s quizzes at them instead —  he does actually need your help. His grades are getting worse. There’s always the other TA, Joshua, who Chan actually happens to know, but Chan thinks that his half-crush is worth following up on. At the very least, you could be a good friend.

Is pretending to need calculus tutoring in order to get to know a girl his finest moment? No. Because as much as he tries to justify this with his slipping grades, he knows perfectly well he could be doing excellently (well, averagely) if he put a little more effort in. But is that as appealing as the TA with the best laugh he’s ever heard? And so, somehow, with impressive persuasive skills he probably picked up from Jeonghan by accident, Chan manages to wheedle you into tutoring him, smiling as you hmm’ed and haa’ed and bit your lip nervously. 

“I’ve got a full list already,” you had said slowly, and he’d jumped in before you could go down the route of polite refusal.

“I know, I know, but seriously — I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had! I’m a good learner, I swear. I can study whenever you want.” 

Which is how he landed himself early morning sessions — and when you said early, you weren’t kidding. The times you’ve scheduled for him to start range between eight to ten, and he specifically didn’t book morning classes this semester because he loves his sleep. But still: his grades are slipping, and there’s a cute girl on the line, so he takes his success with warmth  — or perhaps it’s just the thought of spending more time with you, but whatever it is, he feels like he’s glowing, inside out. 

Your first tutoring session with Lee Chan goes surprisingly well. The moment he began halfway guilt tripping  you into tutoring him (“Imagine if my grades slip so far, I don’t get to graduate on time. Could you live with that?”), you knew he was something. And somehow, you still agreed to this, despite being loaded with all the shit a master’s student has on their plate, on top of TA’ing. Maybe you should work on saying no sometimes, but who are you kidding? You don’t have time to deal with your possibly self-destructive flaws, not when your to-do list is three miles long 

Despite your qualms, however, Chan turns out to be a great listener. He doesn’t act pissy when you tell him he’s doing something wrong, either, which is already better than half your students. 

“I probably seem really stupid,” he says with a quiet laugh, as he re-attempts a question from the last quiz.

“Not at all,” you say instantly. “Don’t tell Lee, but calculus is the worst, anyway.”

He lifts his head with curved lips — “Oh? From the words of the mathematical extraordinaire herself?” 

Immediately, you’re growing hot, shaking your head and laughing, looking away. “Oh, come on. Don’t call me that.”

Chan’s eyes don’t move from yours — it’s like you can physically feel the weight of his gaze, sometimes. You’ve never met someone with so much… presence. “Why not?” he asks. “Own it. Professor Lee says that about you all the time.”

“Okay, not me specifically,” you correct quickly, “he says that about Joshua too.”

Chan clicks his tongue dismissively. “Yeah, but Joshua’s a piece of shit anyway, so…”

Your surprise must be visible on your face, because when Chan looks back at you, he laughs out loud, louder than the other students in the library are happy with; they cast him dirty looks, but it’s like they bounce straight off him. He only lowers his voice a little, leaning closer. “Joshua and I are friends,” he explains, amused, “I’m not serious. But anyway, if you don’t even like calculus, what are you doing TA’ing it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, just… Lee asked me to, so I was like, why not?”

“I can’t imagine anything worse,” Chan says bluntly, “than teaching a bunch of people how to integrate shit.”

A giggle slips out of you before you can prevent it; he makes you do that a lot. Laugh, without meaning to. “Well. That’s why I majored in Math. I don’t mind.” You hesitate. “What are you actually majoring in?”

His eyes do that thing again. Sparkle. He bites down on his lip, as if suppressing a smile. “Math.”

“What?” You can’t help it, you’re laughing again, louder this time and trying to stifle it. “You never said!”

“You never asked!” He mirrors your incredulous tone teasingly. 

“You just let me embarrass myself like that.”

“You didn’t do anything embarrassing.” 

You try to ignore his eyes on you again, picking up your pencil to doodle awkwardly in your notebook. “I thought you were like… on a sports program. Or in, like, accounting or something.”

Impossibly, his smile widens. “Those are two very different things.” 

The playful lilt to his tone does something to your stomach. “Have you finished your question yet?” You change the subject so sharply that he laughs again, sliding his notebook over to you.

You glance over it, blinking in surprise. “That’s perfect,” you say, pushing it back towards him. “Well done.”

That smile shifts into something more — well, if you didn’t know any better, you’d call it flirty. Lopsided and charming. “Yeah, well,” he says, packing up his stuff, “I‘ve got a great teacher.”

The tutoring sessions continue to pass much the same. Chan does his work, but keeps stopping to ask you all kinds of questions in between. Your favourite colour. Your favourite type of coffee. Your favourite movie, TV show, your hometown — somehow, his easy, open nature has you telling him all kinds of things, and more than that, you’re asking him all kinds of things in return.

“You know, I’m not like this with the rest of my tutoring roster,” you observe quietly, as you finish a story about your high school prom. “Like, at all.”

“Good!” he says, grinning at you. He’s wearing glasses today, you notice. He looks — nice. Cute. “That’d be like you’re cheating on me. I’m your favourite student.”

Slightly appalled, you nudge him. “Not true! I’ve never said that. I don’t play favourites.”

“I do,” he says just as swiftly. “I’m your favourite. I can tell.” He pats your hand. “It’s okay, you’re my favourite too.”

You pull your hand away, ignoring the swoop of your stomach. “Focus!”

“How am I supposed to focus when you’re right there?” 

“Easily,” you snap, “since you’re my favourite student.”

Chan positively beams when you say it, not even attempting to hide it as he returns to the problems in front of him. “As long as you can admit it.”

At the end of the session, Chan digs into his bag and slides a candy over to you, and you can’t help the smile that splits your face open. “No way,” you cry, picking it up, “I love these! How did you know?”

He smiles, not even glancing at the candy once, fixing his eyes on you. “You told me. Like, a week ago.”

You barely remember that Something swells up inside you, tight and hot and sweet. “Oh, wow. Thank you, Chan.” You hope he can hear how touched you are, because you can’t quite express it. 

“It’s nothing,” he says, with a small smile, one you can’t quite read. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah,” you say after the shortest of pauses. “Of course. We’re friends.”

He truly is something else. Almost your opposite, with his confidence and his openness and outright friendliness. You can’t quite put it into words, but something warm just pours out of him.

When you say as much to Minghao, your best friend, he laughs in your face. “Chan? Lee Chan?”

“He’s nice,” you protest lightly. Minghao somehow knows him, through Jeonghan or something or other. Briefly, you wonder how many people Chan knows — which really just proves your point. He’s annoyingly likeable, and even though you have to be forced to admit it, he is easily your favourite out of all the students you tutor. It’s barely even a competition; it’s not a competition. Your other students are fine, but they’re not quite Chan.

“Lee Chan is a little shit,” Minghao says with a hidden affection you’ve had to learn to detect. “But, yeah. He’s a good guy.” There’s a pause filled by the surrounding murmurs of people in the coffee shop you guys are in. It’s always overflowing with people, but it’s the only place that serves halfway decent herbal tea for Minghao, so the two of you always end up meeting here.

“How’s Joshua?” Minghao asks suddenly, doing the annoying thing where he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Still as sexy and gentlemanly as ever, is he?”

At the very mention of his name, you feel yourself growing hotter. “He’s fine,” you say shortly. “Busy.”

Your crush on Joshua has never been a secret from Minghao. Even if you’d wanted it to be, Minghao would’ve worked it out in two days, tops. But, as you keep reiterating, it’s just a stupid crush. It’ll fade. Just like your crush on Kim Hongjoong two years ago, and your crush on Kim Namjoon the year before that. You have a habit of letting things die out, and you’re very comfortable in that habit. 

“___,” Minghao says seriously, “you should tell him.”

“There are literally so many things I’d do before I confess. I’d rather memorise the proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem than do that.”

“You never know if you don’t try! And besides,” Minghao adds, softer, “even if he, you know, doesn’t feel that way, Joshua’s not... well, he won’t make you feel bad about anything. You guys can still be friends. Joshua’s nice.”

Which is the sentence that echoes in your head later that same day, when your meeting with Professor Lee and Joshua is over. Lee is long gone, leaving you and Joshua to go over a few minor details with your tutor schedules and office hour planning. Joshua just looks… really good, with all his files spread out in front of him, his silky voice talking about something stupid one of his tutees had done, his long, dyed hair slightly mussed. 

“…and then he asked me how to find where the line intercepts the asymptote!” he finishes, chuckling. You’re a little late with your laugh, too busy focussing on how the afternoon sun lights up his hair, making it look lighter than it actually is.

Joshua calls your name, his smile shifting into something more concerned. “Are you okay?”

Your words stumble into each other on their way out. “I — well, yeah. Fine. I’m fine — good. I’m good.”

You guys can still be friends. 

“Actually, Josh, I wanted to ask you something,” you say in a sudden emboldened rush. 

“Go for it,” he says, smile fading ever so slightly. “Everything okay?”

“I — ” You hesitate, and in that split second, your courage disappears. You stare at him, and your brain decides for you: unattainable. Untouchable. “I forgot,” you finish lamely, ducking your head and shuffling your papers. Surprisingly, you’re not quite at the level of mortification you thought you would be.

“Ookay,” Joshua drags out, still watching you with concern, before he shakes it off and starts to gather his things. “Well, just let me know if you remember. I’m here for you, okay? We’re friends, not just TAs!”

That fucking word again. Friends. Only this time, you realise suddenly, it barely even hurts. 

Maybe you’re just getting used to it.

“So…” Vernon says, sidling up to Chan in their shared kitchen, “how’s your TA?”

Chan sighs, looking mournfully at the spicy ramen he’d just made for himself. So much for peace. It must’ve been the smell that lured Vernon out of his bedroom, but he’s clearly an opportunist; killing two birds with one stone by prying into his life and poaching his food. “Joshua is fine.”

“That’s great, but I know that already,” Vernon says, as he helps himself to some of the ramen. Chan lets him, and that must be how his friend realises something is wrong, because he’s suddenly narrowing his eyes at Chan around his mouthful of noodles. “What is it? Did she turn you down?”

Chan drags out his words. “I haven’t said anything to her. She likes someone else. I can tell.”

Vernon considers this for a moment, characteristically quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure?”

“Well — not really. But I’m like, eighty percent sure? But also I don’t really know her that well, and Jeonghan once said to me she’s always super nice to everyone, so I don’t think she’s into me. But then I also don’t know if she’s into him either! Because she’s nice to me and him and apparently every motherfucker on the planet, so it’s, like, confusing, you know? But like. I think she is into him. She looks at him in a kinda way, so…”

Vernon chews with wide eyes. “Damn. That’s crazy, bro, what are you going to do?

Chan exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I think we’ll be better off as friends. I’ll probably just… give up.”

Vernon nods slowly, already backing away. “Good luck, dude. Here for you.” He raises an awkward fist in solidarity, and that’s when Chan glances at his bowl of ramen and realises it’s empty.

Chan allows himself one day to mope. He even cancels a session for the first time, shooting you a quick message to let you know he isn’t feeling great, and he wallows. Stays in bed the entire twenty four hours, scoffing all the ramen in the house, and now he owes Seungkwan and Vernon two packs each, but still — he feels better. He’s grateful he didn’t let it get too far, at the very least. You guys can still be friends, and one day this will be a funny joke he slips into conversation.

When he shows up to the next session, a few days later, he’s determined not to show any hint of awkwardness. He plunks his books down with a renewed energy, startling you as you take out your headphones. 

“I was going to ask if you’re feeling better,” you start dryly, “but I can see that’s clearly the case.”

“Yeah. Nothing big, I’m fine now,” he waves off your concern. Heartsick, maybe. It still twinges at him, when he sees your soft smile, faintly smells your trademark perfume, your colour coded notes in front of you. He doesn’t know when highlighters became so endearing, when he learnt that you always overuse the pastel green one. 

“Okay, so asymptotes,” you begin, and Chan scoots closer, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“You’re my asymptote,” he says with solemn seriousness, “because I always tend towards you.” 

You fluster easily, Chan has noticed. You avoid his gaze, but you’re laughing, telling him how terrible his jokes are but still — you’re laughing.

Suddenly, in only a few minutes, the thought of getting over you is a lot more daunting than he imagined. You make it harder when you laugh at the stupid joke he quips a moment later, too; you always tell him he has an infectious laugh, but yours is like music to his ears, no matter how hard you try to suppress it in the library. 

“Come on,” you say, finally, gathering yourself together. “Asymptotes. It’s our last lesson for a bit. Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”

“Leaving tomorrow afternoon,” he confirms. “What about you?”

“Tomorrow morning,” you say. “Asymptotes will be the end of this chapter, so it’s perfect timing, really. We can start the new stuff after the break.”

Privately, Chan thinks the break really is perfect timing. He can wallow a little more, back at home with the comfort of his mother’s food and his father’s baseball reruns. He’ll come back ready to finish his tutoring, ace calculus, and be your friend. With firm emphasis on friend. For a moment, he considers you and Joshua as a couple, and honestly, as much as it stings, it’s cute. It makes sense. 

After the break, winter hits full force. Your first tutoring session at the library is with Chan, and you’re layered up to the max, treating yourself to coffee as a shield against the bite of the cold outside. Vaguely, you remember Chan saying something about how he only drinks lattes hot, and so you order one for him too, taking extra packets of sugar and a stirring spoon on your way out. You know he likes to do the sugar himself.

“I’m late, I know.” You shrug off your coat when you arrive at your guys’ usual table, shaking the raindrops off your coat and hair with an apologetic smile. “It literally started pouring just two minutes before I got here, but here — coffee.” You unload your arms on the table in front of him, slightly breathless, tugging a hand through your untamed hair. 

You catch Chan looking at you, something unreadable in his gaze, and you wince. “Sorry,” you apologise again.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I’ve just — I’ve never seen you so…”

“Messy?” you finish, laughing half self-consciously.

“Disorganised,” he corrects, and it feels gentler. “You’re kind of, like, windswept?” He pauses, quieter. “You look — pretty.”

You ran to the library a solid ten minutes ago. Your heart shouldn’t still be beating this fast. “Thank you,” you reply, just as quietly. There’s silence for a beat, fraught with some sort of tension, before you slap the textbook with too much enthusiasm, “So, uh, next chapter!”

“Next chapter,” he agrees quickly, and just like that, the weirdness dissipates, and it’s just you and Chan.

At least, until Joshua steps in the library. He’s browsing the section near you; you see him before he sees you, but only by a few seconds. You just have enough time to think how cute his scarf is, and then his eyes fall on you and Chan, and he waves with a smile. 

You wave back as he nears the table. “I don’t want to interrupt,” Joshua explains quickly, “just wanted to say hi. To both of you. How’s it going?” He directs his question to Chan, adding — “Is she running you to the ground?”

“She wouldn’t,” Chan says simply. He doesn’t say much else as Joshua says his goodbyes and disappears between the shelves, but you’re still a little harried-looking, dusting down your clothes unnecessarily. 

“So,” Chan says casually, as you return your focus to him and take a sip of water to try and cool you down, “how long have you had a crush on Joshua?”

You choke. Heat curls up your neck, and not because of your coughing — hot-faced and spluttering, you demand, “What are you talking about?” Even as you speak, you can tell your voice is pitched too high. Too defensive.

The younger boy gives you a look. “Come on. I’m not blind.”

You duck your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, so this question about limits — ”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he sings, cutting you off. “You have a big fat crush on Hong Joshua!”

Eyes wide, you slap a hand over his mouth, glancing behind you in horror. “Oh my God, keep your voice down!”

Beneath your palm, Chan gives you the most self-satisfied, victorious look, and belatedly, you realise you’ve given yourself away. “Fuck you,” you say, without any venom, releasing him and leaning back, trying extremely hard not to sulk. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“It is when you’re making googly eyes at him right in front of me. Your student.”

“I don’t make googly eyes!” you object immediately, horrified. “I’ve never made googly eyes.”

“Whatever you say, teach.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay, I said.” He still has that smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. It’s infuriating.

Briefly, your mind flits back to the stumbling boy you’d spoken to when he’d first asked for your help, back in late September. You miss him, you think sarcastically. He was the total opposite of the guy in front of you now.

“So?” Chan leans forward over the desk with raised, expectant eyebrows.

“So what?”

“So, how long? A month? Two?”

Your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. Again.

“Longer?”

 “A year,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze.

“A year?!” He practically yelps, and you have never wanted to bury yourself alive more than you do at this moment.

“A year and a half. Or something,” you confirm weakly, and then shake your head. You gently push his forehead with the eraser side of your pencil, forcing him back to his side of the desk. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m meant to be helping you with limits today.”

“I think you need more help than I do,” he says with sudden, sweet sympathy, patting your hand how he always does. You snatch it away and glare at him, but he ploughs on. “How have you not made a single move for a year and a half? You should do something about it. Move past the googly eyes.”

“Don’t want to. Can’t make me.” You tap your pencil against his open, untouched /textbook. “Now focus. On your work, and not on prying into my love life!”

He clicks his tongue softly, but picks up his own pencil again; inwardly, you let out a soft sigh of relief. Mortification still boils in the pits of your stomach — a guy you barely even know caught on so quickly. Are you really so obvious?

Chan works quietly for all of three minutes, and then he glances at you again. “I don’t want to hear it,” you say warningly, cutting him off before he can even start.

Amusement sparkles in his eyes. “I didn’t say anything!”

”You were going to.”

“I think you should make a move, that’s all.”

“I think it’s none of your business.” 

“You said we were friends now! I’m trying to help my friend!”

“I take it back. Strictly tutor and student. We’re no longer friends.”

“No, seriously. I think you could totally get him to fall for you.”

You audibly snort. “Chan, do you know how many people have a crush on Joshua? He wouldn’t look twice at me. And I’m fine with that.”

“I’m not!”

You groan, tip your head on to the textbook in front of you. Then you turn, glaring at him and his entertained smile — with a smushed cheek and sulky pout, you ask, ”Why is this such a big deal to you, anyway?”

Chan almost seems to fold in on himself when you ask that. For someone so open and friendly, he has a way of shuttering down that startles you a little. It’s subtle, but you’re starting to notice it; his avoidant eyes and the faint pink on the apples of his cheeks. “I don’t know,” he says, shrugging with obviously feigned nonchalance. “I guess — I think you deserve to be happy.”

Sometimes people say things that hit you straight in the gut. Wind you. Leave you just a little bit breathless with their sincerity. 

You open and close your mouth like a fucking fish. “Oh,” you say at last, stupidly, “that’s — that’s really nice of you, Chan.”

Whatever brief embarrassment he was experiencing, he seems to be over it. “I know. I’m the best. And that’s why I’m going to help you.”

You laugh again, amused and slightly endeared by his enthusiasm. “Okay, fairy godmother. Let’s get back to work, maybe.”

“No, seriously,” Chan insists, brown eyes sparkling. “I’m going to teach you how to flirt.”

The previous flattering you felt disappears in the space of a second. “Excuse me?” you say incredulously, but you’re laughing already, simply at the pure audacity. “Who says I don’t know how to flirt?”

“You did,” he says, matching your smile, “when you didn’t make a single move for a year and a half. But don’t worry. I’m going to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“No, but you need it, so I’m going to help you anyway,” he nods generously.

“How kind,” you say sarcastically, before thwacking his shoulder with your thinnest textbook.

Chan bursts out laughing as he dodges it, before switching back to that tone — the one that had you caving into him only a few weeks back, when he asked you to be his tutor. (Briefly, you wonder how it’s only been a few weeks. Part of you feels like you’ve known him forever.)

“Seriously,” he continues, “I can help you. I’ve literally never been rejected in my life.”

“Oh, yeah?” You snort, but honestly, you don’t doubt it. 

He tilts his head to the side. “Well, like, once in middle school. It doesn’t count. 100% success rate, baby.”

“99%, maybe.”

“That is not how statistics works,” he says smugly. “Thought you’d know better, teach.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best. I’m going to get you a boyfriend; literally just give me twenty minutes at the end of the rest of our tutoring sessions.”

“We only have, like, three left.” 

“That’ll be enough.”

Fuck it, you think. You don’t think this will help you with Joshua — nor do you want it to — but why the hell not? If it makes Chan happy, as it so clearly seems to…

“Ten minutes,” you sigh.

His eyes brighten. “Fifteen.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce after a short moment, waving your hand dismissively. “From next time, though. I don’t have time today.”

You try to ignore his Cheshire cat grin, but it’s infectious. You’re mirroring it by the time he slaps the desk victoriously, assuring you, “You won’t regret this, I swear.”

“I’m sure I will. So, limits — ”

“Limits,” he agrees, an infuriatingly triumphant smirk on his lips. 

You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling. “You have no limits.”

“Lesson one,” Chan says, a little too gleefully, only a few days later. “Body language.” 

He watches you pass a hand over your forehead with a grimace. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“First tip is to not be doing things like that when he speaks,” Chan says lightly, pulling your hands away from your forehead. He places his index fingers either side of your lips, and gently, carefully, he pulls the corners of them upwards. “Smile.” 

You blink at him, and it is, unfortunately, the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “But,” he continues, shaking it off and pulling his fingers away, “you’re good at smiling anyway, so that’s not a key concern.”

Surprise appears on your features. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before. I usually get the opposite.”

Chan is slightly taken-aback, because you’re always smiling. You’re quiet, definitely, but you laugh super easy, and smile even easier than that. 

“But go on.” You change the subject quickly, and Chan realises that despite yourself, you’re getting intrigued now. 

“Tip number two,” he continues, magnanimously, “eye contact.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Why not?” The swiftness of your refusal startles him, but even as he asks, he kind of knows; you tend to avoid eye contact, especially when you’re shy, or embarrassed, or confused, or… well, a lot of the time. “You can practise.”

You look at him with horror. “Practise?”

“With me,” he nods, steeling himself already. “Now.”

“You’re joking.”

“I never joke,” he lies straight to your face, just to make you relax. Sure enough, your shoulders loosen almost instantly, and you let out half a smile. “Come on. Just for two minutes.” 

“Okay,” you finally agree, meeting his stare. Chan leans forward just the slightest bit, and for the first time in his life, he understands what it means to sink into someone else’s eyes. Your gaze isn’t intense, but it’s captivating, and he’s not sure if that’s his own feelings surfacing up again, or it’s just — natural. Either way, being this close to you is doing something funny to his ribs, the same thing that happened when you brought him coffee. 

He tries to distract himself. “Can’t believe we only have two tutoring sessions left.” His voice has lowered instinctively, taken on a slightly gravelly tone that seems to surprise you a little Your lips part for a second, and then you nod; he watches your throat bob as you swallow.

“Yeah,” you say, equally as hushed. “Time flies, huh?”

His lips are dry. The tip of his tongue darts out, and he watches as you seem to follow it. “Yeah. When you’re having fun.”

Chan goes home that night more confused than before, and it only gets worse when Seungkwan’s waiting for him in the living room, hands on hips. One look at him, and Chan can tell he’s going to play interrogator.

“I just don’t know if this is a good idea,” Seungkwan says, at last, after Chan slumps on to the couch. “Helping her get with Joshua. You’re going to break your own heart.”

Chan wrinkles his nose. “I am not. We’re just friends, Seungkwan. I’m over it.”

Seungkwan looks at him disbelievingly, and Chan rolls his eyes. “I’m getting over it,” he corrects himself. “But we’re fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’m your best friend,” Seungkwan replies instantly, “Of course I’m going to worry. You just — you open your heart so easily. Which is a good thing!” he tacks on hastily, “But she… well.” 

Arching a brow, Chan leans forward. “She what?”

“Let me put it this way. You’re a romantic, and from what I can tell, she’s a cynic.”

Chan has never given much thought to what other people think about you, not until now. In all honesty, he’d had a similar perception of you, at first. Extremely organised. Kind of stoic. Nice, but distant. But now, he’s sure that nothing has ever been further from the truth. You’re reserved, that goes without a doubt, but you’re not cold. You’re kind. Care immensely for your friends, even though there are only a few of them. Shy, but sweet, and he thinks it’s a fucking shame that people can’t see that. He’d thought you were distant, but he’s heard other people describe you as uptight. Snobbish.

All people do is talk, he thinks with a little contempt. 

He looks back at his roommate. “You don’t know her, Seungkwan. She’s not a cynic.”

His friend shrugs. “I trust you. Just… be careful.”

Your second “lesson” with Chan begins with him grabbing you by the hand and pulling you in between random bookshelves. 

“Stand here,” he instructs, before patting you on the shoulders. You can feel the warmth of his hands through your sweater. “Okay,” he says, “lesson two is all about conversation. He’s going to fall in love with your mouth — not like that,” he adds quickly, when he sees you biting down on your lip to hide your laugh. “Mind out the gutter, teach.”

You grin at him cheekily. “You’re the teacher now. Come on, then.” The truth is, these lessons are more entertaining than anything. You’re enjoying it, hanging out with Chan without having to remind him to finish his questions or double-check the textbook. 

“Be serious!” he complains, but his eyes have that usual sparkle to them. He glances at your clothes for a moment. “Nice sweater, by the way. You look good in blue. But anyway, quick tips — remember what he likes, compliment him, talk about what you have in common, stuff like that. Okay, I’m going to go over and I want you to imagine I’m Joshua. So you see me randomly in the library, what are you doing?”

You snort. “Running in the other direction.”

He holds a finger up, hiding a smile at your silly answer. “Bzzzt. Wrong answer. You lose ten points.”

“When did I have ten points to begin with?” you argue, but still, you’re struggling to suppress your giggles. 

“You didn’t. You’re in the negatives.” He flicks you gently on the forehead. “Try again.”

“Ow,” you complain, pouting. “Okay, I’m meant to say hi.”

“Ding! Ten points. Back to zero.” Chan waits expectantly, and you look at him in confusion. He motions with his fingers. “Go on. Say hi.”

“I am not roleplaying with you!” you hiss, horrified, pushing his arm gently. He stumbles back exaggeratedly. “We do math, Chan, not drama!”

“Actually I do math and history,” he corrects nonchalantly, “and history is dramatic.”

Flummoxed, you repeat after him — “History? Since when do you do history?”

“Since, like, three years ago…?” He laughs at your expression, but you can’t bring yourself to mirror his lightness, for once. 

You feel rooted to your spot. “You’re a double major?” Something uncomfortable stirs in the pits of your stomach, and you know you’re not being rational — there’s no reason why this should jar you so much, but you feel jarred. “How did I not know this?” you ask, more to yourself. You turn to him, head moving so sharply he almost steps back. “Did you ever mention this?

Chan’s smile is fading. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” he laughs awkwardly, “it never came up. It’s not a big deal!”

“It is to me,” you insist, “Chan, you’re my friend! I should know this stuff!”

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeats, his brows furrowed. “Seriously. You know me better than half my friends already, and we’ve only been friends for like, a few months.” He attempts a smile — “You even know about the whole story behind that girl rejecting me back in middle school, I don’t tell that to everyone.”

“Yeah,” you say distractedly, “I guess so.”

Chan looks at the time. “Don’t you have a meeting now? With Joshua?”

You tilt your head, confused, your mind still on his history major.  “I do?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he reminds you, and you snap out of it, checking the time yourself. “You’re going to be late,” Chan laughs, gently pushing you towards your bag. “Go!”

You wave at him as you gather your stuff haphazardly, calling an, “I’ll text you later!” ok your way out. 

“Remember my top tips!” he calls back, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You laugh and flip him off, bundling yourself out the library — only to run smack into another girl leaving at the same time. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” you apologise, helping her pick up her pencils. “I wasn’t looking!”

“It’s okay,” she assures you quickly. “By the way,” she adds, “you and your boyfriend are so cute!”

��My… boyfriend?” You hand her stuff back to her with a furrowed brow.

She beams at you sunnily. “Yeah! I always see you guys on your cute study dates over there, it’s soo sweet. The way you guys look at each other is, like, to die for.”

“Thank you,” you say automatically, before opening your mouth to correct her. But it’s too late, she’s gone and you’re left standing in the exit with a thousand thoughts rushing through your mind, ones that preoccupy you all the way back to yours and Joshua’s shared office. 

They only multiply when you see Joshua, and feel absolutely nothing. There’s no typical dip in your stomach, no stuttering heartbeat, just a familiar smile and nothing else, which is when you realise — you haven’t been feeling anything like what you used to feel.

At least, not around Joshua.

“That’s the first time you’ve been late, like, ever,” Joshua observes, “Were you with Chan?”

“Yeah, I — uh, how did you know that?” You cut yourself off to stare at him in surprise.

“Our tutoring schedules are right there,” he smiles, nodding to the pinboard next to him. You almost sigh in relief. A normal explanation, finally. Something that makes sense. These realisations and observations are nothing more than —

“But you always have a certain look after you see him anyway,” Joshua continues obliviously. “Your eyes get all shiny. You smile more.” He pauses, grins at you knowingly, “You guys are close, huh?”

“I — I don’t — ” You stutter feebly, because suddenly everything is hot and you need to lie down. “I don’t feel well,” you almost shout, way too loud; Joshua startles, but nods. 

“Okay,” he says, worriedly. “We can reschedule, but do you need a ride home?”

“No!” you snap, before taking a deep breath. “Sorry. No. I think — the fresh air will be good for me.”

Joshua lets you go, and you feel close to tears the whole way home. 

You can’t stomach this, you think, curled up in a ball under your duvet. It doesn’t make sense; you may be a math major, but none of this is adding up.

“I like Joshua,” you say out loud, and it sounds hollow. It sounds false. It doesn’t bring anything with it. 

Slowly, tentatively, you say, “I like Chan.” 

That brings so much, but more than anything, it brings warmth. Warmth like the serious brown of his eyes, his rough hands, his smile, his laugh, the way he chews his lip when he’s thinking hard about a question. 

You stick your head in a pillow and let out a scream.

Chan doesn’t know if he should invite you to the end of semester party that Seungcheol is throwing, considering his absolute failure in getting over you, but he does it anyway. He invited you to the Halloween one, and you turned him down, saying you had plans with some other friends, but he reckons it’s worth trying again, so he does just that.

Your response comes within minutes. 

[16:43] you: isn’t that the night before our last tutoring?

[16:44] chan: i know! but i’ll be on time i promise i wont even drink that much [16:44] chan: it’ll be like a celebration!!

[16:45] you: of what?

[16:45] chan: you put up with me for a full semester :)

He watches your typing bubble appear and reappear multiple times with a frown, until:

[16:48] you: i don’t “put up” with you chan

A smile. A big cheesy one that has his cheeks aching a little.

[16:48] you: we’re friends, aren’t we?

No matter how hard he tries, that still stings. 

The party sneaks up faster than expected, and Chan agrees to meet you there, because you’re coming with Minghao, and he agreed to help Seungcheol set up before he knew you were coming. Which is, you know, whatever. He’s not a little upset that he doesn’t get to pick you up in his car and do the whole opening-your-door-for-you thing — not at all, no matter what Seungkwan tries to imply.

Joshua probably would’ve, he thinks miserably, as people begin to arrive. That’s what you’d once said, ages ago, that you liked about him. 

‘He’s sweet,’ you’d said, ‘and he, like, holds doors open for me.’

‘The bar is in hell,’ Chan had said in response, making you snort with laughter, hiding your face. 

“No moping at my party!” Seungcheol yells as he sails by, carrying a load of ping pong balls — they’re setting up beer pong in the other room, but for once, Chan doesn’t feel the need to take up Jeonghan’s challenge. He dithers by the door, looking up hopefully every time someone enters, and every time, it isn’t you. 

Until it is. You come in just after Minghao, and Chan’s breath is quite literally taken away. It’s horrifyingly cliché, how gorgeous you look — you always do, but he’s never seen you dressed up before. Not like this, with a blue dress that falls to your mid-thigh, hair done to perfection. Makeup too, that makes your eyes look bigger and softer, that matches your outfit exactly.

Something swells inside him when he sees you on your tiptoes, craning your neck this way and that; instinctively, he thinks you’re looking for him. And when your eyes finally land on his, you smile so big that his insides turn molten; hot and tight and full, so incredibly full. He moves towards you without even realising, a moth to a flame. 

“You look — ” He swallows. Hard. “Amazing. You look amazing.”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can, Minghao mutters something in your ear, gesturing to a room on the right before tugging you away. Chan watches as you send him an apologetic wave — and then you’re gone, melting into the sea of people that Seungcheol somehow knows. And he’s tugged in completely the opposite direction, casting one longing look after you.

About an hour into the party, you see Chan with someone else. A girl. Short, dark-haired, bright-eyed — pretty. So pretty.

You’re not one to get jealous, usually. But that’s the only word to describe the way your stomach drops and your heart twists. Green-eyed monster, rearing in your chest. She makes him laugh, and he touches her arm when he does, and honestly, it’s a completely innocent picture. They’re probably just friends, and you’re usually so secure in yourself, but with Chan — you feel everything but secure. It was only last week you allowed yourself to acknowledge you were halfway to falling in love with him.

Joshua was familiar, at least. This is not, which is why it took you so long to accept it. 

You smooth down your dress (“You look good in blue.”), and watch as Chan leans down to hear her over the music. Maybe it’s the second drink in your hand, which you’d only taken after being egged on by Mingyu — he’d handed you his “professional” jungle juice. It tastes like shit, but recent events have brought with them a desire to get absolutely fucking wasted.

Tragically, you’ve managed tipsy at best, but it’s still enough to have you over-emotional, and with one last look at Chan and the pretty girl, you escape the watchful eyes of Minghao to the balcony of Seungcheol’s disgustingly wealthy place to cry. Which you do, with shaky, gulping breaths, and blurred vision.

When you’ve calmed yourself just the slightest bit, you glance at yourself in your phone camera, lit up by the yellow lighting inside. The girl in the mirror is almost unrecognisable — drunk and face streaked with cheap mascara (advertised as waterproof but clearly not).

God, your head aches. When did life become so fucking complicated?

You know when; you know exactly when, that little snarky voice in the corner of your head tells you, flashing you an image of a certain brown-haired boy with his stupid smile. You know that this mess started somewhere around when he waltzed into your life, brandishing his flirting tips and stupid math puns.  What you don’t know is when he slipped his way into your heart, when you somehow gave him the power to crush it in his fingers. 

That’s what it feels like. Lee Chan has your heart in the palm of his hand, and he doesn’t have a fucking clue.

The thought makes you feel slightly sick — or maybe it’s the overconsumption of the jungle juice that Mingyu cooked up, but whatever it is, your stomach churns uncomfortably, leaving acid climbing your throat. You cast a contemptuous look at the mixture in your red solo cup, and with a sigh, dump the rest of it over the balcony next to you. You ignore the call of hey, fuck you! that comes from below, instead sinking to the floor, hugging your knees and leaning your aching, hot against the cool metal railing to blink away the tears that burn behind your eyes.

Momentarily you consider how at the start of the year, you’d never have expected yourself to be here, not in a million years. At the SVT frat house, hidden in a corner to weep over a boy. A boy that isn’t Hong Joshua — a boy that is, technically, in some ways, your student.

“Fuck you, Lee Chan,” you say bitterly, and as always, you can’t bring yourself to mean it.

“Why’s that?” A familiar voice has you snapping your head towards the balcony doorway. Tall and smiling as always, Joshua regards you with a look of mixed sympathy and pity. You resent it. 

“Fuck you too!” You try to scowl at him; it doesn’t quite work, and you’re too drunk and tired to muster up the energy to be angry at him. Joshua didn’t really do anything; the only crime you can hold against him is obliviousness. He’s not the one holding your heart in his hands. You don’t think he ever really was — at the very least, what you felt with him was never like this. There was never so much.

Joshua doesn’t say anything, just laughs and sits next to you on the floor. Both of you have your backs pressed to the railing, and he nudges you softly with his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

You swallow thickly. “No.”

He smiles ever so slightly, nodding to your tearful face. “Yeah, I mean, I figured.”

You let out a watery giggle. “God. I’m such a mess.”

Joshua hums, like he’s actually considering your words deeply. “You aren’t, really. You’re like, the least messy person I know.”

You sniffle a little. “What?”

“Come on, ___, you’re like the most put-together person in this whole university. It’s kind of refreshing to see you outside of that.”

“What, you enjoy seeing me cry?” 

“No, of course not,” he says quickly, bumping your shoulder. “Just. In general, I mean. You’ve been happier lately.”

You gesture to your tear tracks. “This is happy?”

Joshua clicks his tongue at you. “I think Chan is really good for you,” he says finally, quietly. Like he knows he’s broaching a forbidden topic — which he is. You flinch at the very sound of his name. “He makes you happy. That’s what I mean. You should give yourself a shot.”

“No,” you say immediately, automatically. “I can’t.”

“You could,” he says, without reproach. “If you let yourself.”

You let that settle. Silence falls — or at least as much silence as you can get when you’re metres away from a house party. “I used to have a crush on you, you know.” You don’t look at him, facing straight ahead thoughtfully.

Joshua smiles, rueful. “I know.”

You snap your head round, and your disbelief must be etched onto your face because he laughs. “I could tell,” he shrugs. “You got flustered so easily, sometimes.”

The slightest of groans. “I do that, apparently.” You hug your legs to you again, resting your cheek on your knees as you look at Joshua, sitting by your side. “I almost asked you out, too.” 

“I probably would’ve said yes,” he confesses honestly, but still, somehow, you don’t feel anything. “But then I saw how you are with Chan. And that is not like this,” he continues gently. “The way you looked at me back then is nothing, compared to how you look at him.”

“Don’t tell him.” You’re not afraid to beg.

“God forbid you let yourself feel something, right?” Joshua laughs a little, but his eyes bore into you with sincere sympathy. “Why are you so afraid of your own feelings?”

You don’t know what to say. But you’re saved from having to think about it, because Lee Chan himself sticks his head through the door, something shifting on to his face when his eyes finally land on you. 

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you for — ” he freezes for a second, the exact moment his eyes land on Joshua sitting next to you “ — ages,” he finishes, slowly, before taking a step back. “I should go.”

“No, stay,” Joshua says, quickly, standing up. “We were just finished.”

Chan fidgets with the end of his shirt as Joshua leaves, casting one more empathetic smile at you, and the moment the older boy is gone, Chan steps closer towards you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t realise he was — you’re crying.” His change in tone is so abrupt, from apologetic to dead serious in half a second. ”What happened?”

“Nothing,” you say, too high-pitched. “I’m fine now. It’s fine.”

“Was it Joshua?” he demands, already looking back in the direction his friend disappeared to. “What did he say?”

“What? No. It wasn’t him.” You try to change the subject. “I am older than you, you know, I don’t need to be babysat. I hope you didn’t interrupt your fun just to come looking for me.”

He smiles, but his eyes don’t. “Only by a year. And anyway, I have more fun with you.”

You hate that your mind flits back to that girl, the laughing one. “What about your friends? I saw you with, um, what’s her name? The pretty one, dark hair?” 

Subtlety is not your strong suit. 

Chan just blinks at you. “You mean Jana? Yeah, she wanted me to play beer pong against her and her girlfriend. But I did that.” Something untwists in your stomach. He steps closer, fishing a tissue out of nowhere, and with the tenderest touch, wipes at the makeup staining your cheeks.

He’s so close, you can see every individual eyelash. “Why? Were you jealous?” he asks lightly, referring to Jana as he uses one hand to cup your cheek and remove the dark mess under your eyes more carefully.

“No!” Your voice is harsher than intended, jerking out of his grip. and his eyes flick to yours with worry.

“I was kidding,” he says softly, frowning, “Is everything okay, teach?”

Alcohol blurs your rational thinking. You lean your forehead against his chest with the deepest sigh. “Sorry. Sorry.” A short breath. “Chan, I’m so tired.”

He wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back up and down. “Are you drunk?”

You shake your head. “I was tipsy, but I only had two drinks. I’m sober now. Just… exhausted.” 

“I can take you home,” he murmurs against your ear; he’s so warm, he always is, but his touch sends goosebumps all over your skin. “Is that what you want?”

You lean back, look him in the eye, but neither of you let go of each other. Eye contact. From lesson one. “What’s the third lesson?”

“What?”

“Tomorrow. Our last lesson. What’s it on?”

He’s silent for a minute. “I don’t know,” he replies, at last. 

You cock your head to the side, questioningly, and it’s like something in him snaps, and the words come rushing out, stumbling into each other — “I’ve been making these up as I go along. On the spot.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised but too numb to feel it properly. “Why?”

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, looking defeated. “I don’t know. Well. I do. I just don’t know how to tell you.”

Something clicks for you. I’ve got a great teacher. You’re my favourite too. You look — pretty. I think you deserve to be happy. You look good in blue. 

“Chan,” you say, taking an abrupt step back. Your voice is hoarse suddenly, scratchy with yet another realisation. “What colour is my dress?”

He looks utterly perplexed by your swift change in subject, but he obliges you anyway. “Blue. Why?”

“Do you remember,” you begin, voice shaking ever so slightly. This is the precipice. You’re taking the leap. God forbid you let yourself feel something — well, you are. “Do you remember a week ago? Lesson two?”

“Conversation,” he nods, and you can see his mind working a hundred miles an hour. 

“I was wearing that sweater, and you said — ”

“You look good in blue,” he finishes at once. His eyes flit between you and the dress, and you see the exact moment it dawns on him; the light of comprehension. “But you — Joshua — ”

You shake your head at the question he doesn’t ask. 

It’s like he’s frozen. A minute or a century passes, you’re not sure which, before his eyes meet yours again, filled with something heavy, raw, tender emotion. “How long?”

“Long enough,” you say, and then you’re kissing him, or he’s kissing you, you’re not sure who moves first, or if you move at the same time, but whatever it is — you’re melting into him and he is melting into you, and it’s like your heart gives a happy little sigh. Your shoulders relax, and the tension of the past few weeks evaporates in a few gentle touches.

You break apart with a soft little ‘tch’ sound, and he looks at you with full eyes and the shyest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. 

“You know, technically, you’re still my student,” you say, slightly breathless, entirely giddy. 

He rolls his eyes, tugging you back in already, sliding his arms around your waist. “Yeah, for a week.”

“And a half,” you add, as he begins to kiss up your neck. “You’d better ace your exam next week, after all our hard work.”

He presses his nose into your neck, huffing out a laugh. “I can’t believe that’s what you’re worried about. Now, of all things.”

“That’s what you should be worried about,” you say, bringing a hand up to his hair, running through it with your fingers as you’ve wanted to for so long. “That, and walking me home, maybe.”

“I fully intend to do at least one of those things,” he says, landing a chaste kiss on your lips. “We have a lot to talk about, you know. Starting with me asking you out. Properly.” 

A hint of mischief appears in your smile. “Do well in your exam, and I’ll consider it.”

Chan pulls back, a familiar, confident smirk on his lips. “You have yourself a deal. But until then…”

“We’re still at a party,” you say, dodging his lips with a laugh, even though you really don’t want to. Not at all. “We can’t be that couple.”

He drops his forehead against yours. “We can be whatever the fuck we want. Nobody’s looking, anyway.”

And so you let him kiss you, again and again and again, until he walks you home, and does the same at your door, and the same in your living room. Over and over, making up for all the times he wanted to but couldn’t, he whispers. Your whole body softens at the weight of his hands, travelling the small of your back, cupping your cheek, squeezing your hips. His lips are on yours, and yours are on his, and everything makes sense. Everything adds up.

a/n: (yes another) i hate this so much but i think i’ve been dealing with it too long so im just going to. throw it out there. thank you for reading!!! i’d love to hear what you think!!!! hopefully i’ll venture into longfic more often <3

[sttoru]

♯ 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.

⟣ sypnosis. kento has been extremely busy lately, going on business trips and so forth. he decides to surprise you by coming back earlier than expected. that’s how you end up finding your lover on top of you, showering you in his affection at 3 in the morning.

⟣ tags. nanami kento x female reader. fluff, bit of angst, suggestive towards the end. reader gets called 'sweetheart, angel, dear' wc: 1.8k

⟣ note. okayokay finally an adition to my event heheh ive almost forgotten about it but then i saw this prompt & was like . ok nanami , i must write this rnnn no delaying anymore so here i am :3 its also very bad. i hate it sm LOL i hope u at least like it t_t

kento often asks himself why he had returned to the world he despised — the jujutsu society; his old high school. the sprawling curses everywhere are the main cause of his current misery.

he had been sent out on missions left and right, not catching a break in hopes of reducing any more civilian causalities than necessary. kento had even thought that maybe his previous 9-5 job wasn’t as bad as he had considered it.

overtime was every day for the sorcerer now. that wasn’t the worst thing - no - the fact that he was pratically living a long distant relationship with his beloved irritated him most.

a thought he had in his high school days reoccured in a moment of distress: ‘why not leave all those missions to gojo?’

you were still pretty understanding of his situation. kento appreciated that, though the guilt still ate away at him whenever he tried to sleep. an empty bed welcomed him each time he re-entered his hotel room — you saw the exact same scenery when returning home to your shared apartment.

both of you were adults; both knowing that life was unfair. the two of you being unable to see each other from time to time was a part of your life. kento and you still maintained a healthy relationship. that was all that really mattered in the end.

11:49PM. . . tonight wasn’t unlike any other night; you were preparing yourself to go to bed—changing into your pyjamas after showering, snuggling to a pillow under the covers and texting your lover one last message.

‘good luck on your mission as always! stay safe, i love you.’

you stare at your phone screen for a minute longer than intended. even if you tried to be mature about it — you longed for kento’s warmth and undivided attention. you want him with you, his strong arms holding you to his chest as you rest, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

you sigh defeatedly and put your phone down on your nightstand. just two days until you could see your partner again. you can hold onto that hope to keep you calm.

despite you trying to stay positive, you tossed and turned in your bed as you thought about kento’s safety. there was always a chance of him not coming home to you — always the possibility of that bed to be empty for the rest of your life.

all you could do was pray for his safety in your head whilst your eyes eventually closed from fatigue, your mind drifting off to a deep slumber.

03:14AM. . . kento opens the door he had wished to have opened way earlier. the door that lead to the place where his heart lays; the person who claimed his heart and soul for eternity. you.

he didn’t think he’d actually do it. kento had originally planned to finish his last job as soon as possible and then get home afterwards, but there seemed to be a change in routine.

the special grade sorcerer simply assigned the mission to ino — the person whom he could trust most to finish the job in one piece. as much as kento dislikes to put his juniors in possible risky situations, there are also situations where it’s fine to depend on them. besides, the mission could easily be done by a grade one sorcerer.

kento sighs. the familiar scent of your home was one he could recognise from miles away. one that could calm his nerves instantly. it was that same distinctive scent you carry; thus why your lover sometimes calls you his home.

‘i can’t wait to be home’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i’m going home’ — all these sentences, which kento has uttered before in earlier conversations, weren’t referring to a place. rather to a person he held dear.

“oh, my sweetheart.” the blonde man whispers under his breath as his eyes catch the shape of your figure under the blankets. he quietly enters the master bedroom and closes the door behind him, not making a sound as to not interrupt your well-deserved sleep.

kento slowly undoes his dotted tie, along with the upper buttons of his blouse. he probably needs to go take a good shower before he could settle down with you — but that’d risk waking you up.

you look extremely angelic in his eyes. especially with your left cheek squished by the soft pillow your head rests on. you never once fail to convince him that you are indeed the woman of his dreams; the woman kento ever had and will have eyes for. it’s like you get more attractive to him as the days go on.

“mh,” your sudden and soft groan makes him realise just how disturbing his behaviour could be interpreted as. kento’s body was hovering over your sleeping one and he was just. . . staring at you with a soft smile. a smile which he didn’t even notice had permanently found its place on his weary face.

kento sits down on the edge of the mattress, callused hand gently tucking you in properly, putting the blanket over your shoulders to make sure you didn’t get cold. he can’t rest if you’re not comfortable— even if he himself was exhausted to the point his eyes were starting to feel heavy.

yet that exhaustion doesn’t last long. it never does when kento’s able to see you again after a tiring week of countless missions and other jobs. your presence alone grants him the energy to stay awake and take care of you. and himself. you’re the reason he keeps it going.

“i love you so much, my beautiful girl — my angel.”

kento sure was a romantic. even when you’re unaware and asleep.

he couldn’t help it; the feeling stirring inside of him. the feeling of adoration and love for you. you are simply resting, yet kento felt an urge to kiss you all over, show you the unending love he has for you. but. . that’d probably be disturbing your peace. you are sleeping after all. he

not that that would stop kento.

your eyes flutter open due to a sudden presence hovering over you. your entire face and neck area was feeling ticklish, like someone was placing tens of kisses all over the skin.

strands of blonde hair is the first thing showing up in your blurry vision. kento’s face follows afterwards as his head tilts back up, the warmth against your jawline disappearing along with it —

“ah, i’m sorry.” a low and almost guilty chuckle tumbles out of his sore throat. the visible confusion on your face makes him let out another, “shh, shh, it’s just me, sweetheart.”

your arms flew around kento’s torso the second the realisation dawns upon you. your heart went from a slow pace to one that caused your entire body to warm up immediately; the adorable reaction and increase in heart rate not going unnoticed by your lover.

you wordlessly hug him — almost still in shock by the sudden appearance. kento doesn’t fight off your tight embrace, instead, welcomes it with open arms. the delicate kisses on your skin continue, each being placed with precision whilst one of his hands keeps your head tilted a little — rough fingers being a contrast of the gentle grip they had on your jaw.

“i missed you lots,” kento murmurs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of your body, his lips refusing to let go of your neck, “i couldn’t wait anymore. i couldn’t be separated from you any longer or i’d lose it.”

his gruff voice sounded even deeper than it usually would. maybe due to the overuse of it during his missions. the lone thought makes you pout — the thought of kento working super hard just to provide for you both.

“i missed you more, love.” you mumble, bottom lip trembling a little as kento’s hug triggers a whole lot of emotions in you. his hugs were special, his muscular arms giving you a sense of comfort you couldn’t find anywhere. no one could hug you like he did, “you did well. you did so well.”

those were all the words kento needed. his lips come to halt right above your collarbone, his breath a bit heavy from how much he's holding himself back from doing more. one hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.

“thank you, dear.” kento says. his words carrying a load of unending affection. your simple words of appreciation and encouragement makes him shiver in delight. this is what he longed for; this is what he did it all for.

it was clear. the answer to his question - of why he had returned to the jujutsu world, to become a teacher at his former high school - it was all for you. to be able to be with you, see you and hold you like this. to have someone like you appreciate all of his efforts.

“may i?” kento asks through a quiet whisper as he gently removes the blanket covering your figure, his eyes darting down towards your cleavage. he's asking for permission to cross that barrier — to cover you in the love you deserve.

you just stare at the blonde man above you for a second. you watch as he climbs onto the bed with you; the bed which was once empty and dull, now suddenly becoming your favourite place to be at. your fingertips graze against kento's sharp cheekbones. a habit you always did when you were appreciating his looks.

“go right ahead.” you answer with a confirming nod.

both of you were touch starved and had been deprived from each other's embrace for way too long. now was the perfect time to make up for all the time lost.

kento wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip past him. he smiles at you, a gentle and handsome smile, whilst a few of his blonde locks fall over his left eye — his hands already prying away the blanket covering your shape. it was time to show you just how much he has longed for you.

“hold on to me, sweetheart. i’m not stopping until you realise just how much i’ve missed all of you.”

[erensmoonlight]

Roommate Accident

Synopsis. Living with Eren Yeager was never supposed to happen or be complicated, but tension between two roommates turns their once peaceful arrangement into an awkward dance of avoidance and frustration. A casual offer to give her a ride one day sets off a chain of unexpected events, leaving her questioning the boundaries of their relationship. As their interactions grow more intense, she finds herself torn between keeping the peace and exploring something deeper. With a circle of close friends offering unsolicited advice and wild suggestions, she must decide whether to confront her feelings or continue ignoring the growing chemistry between them.

Paring: Eren Yeager x Fem Reader

Content, MDNI: Enemies to lovers, arguments, smut, drinking, oral (f), dirty talk, sex, fluff, one shot, (Lmk if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 9.7K

{ash’s notes} -HI GUYS! This is my first story and if I’m gonna be honest, I’m prettyyyy nervous but excited of course. I hope you guys enjoy reading this because this was lowkey so fun to write, I have so many more stories to think about writing but not sure when I will. Okay I’m just going to be rambling on and on so again please show love to this story and lmk what you think and how it is! Love you all and take care of yourself, MWAHH❤️ minors aren't welcomed! comments + reblogs are appreciated!

College life is back in full swing, and with it comes the sense of purpose I’ve been craving all summer. Don’t get me wrong—being home with family had its perks, but I desperately needed some time to myself. Now, living with Mikasa, I finally have the freedom to do things on my own terms, while still keeping my grades up, of course. It feels like a fresh start, a chance to balance responsibility with the independence I’ve been longing for.

Junior year of college—finally. I know it’s going to be a new challenge, but all I’m hoping for is as little stress and drama as possible. The drive ahead was long, so I kept my goodbyes short and sweet, not wanting to drag it out. As I hit the road, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursed through me. It felt like the start of something big.

After an hour-long drive, I finally arrived at the campus dorms, my excitement bubbling over. I parked the car and hurried to my dorm, practically bursting with anticipation. As I unlocked the door, I noticed a few boxes outside Mikasa’s room—she must’ve just gotten here too. I grabbed the handle, flung the door open, and jumped inside, shouting, “HIII ROOMIE!”

But the smile fell from my face instantly. It wasn’t Mikasa standing there—it was Eren.

“What the actual hell?” I blurted, freezing in the doorway.

“The fuck?” he shot back, looking just as startled as me.

We stared at each other, equally confused by what was happening. "Excuse me, but why are you in Mikasa's room?" I asked with more sass than intended.

"Mikasa?" he echoed, clearly baffled. "This is my room. Dorm 207," he added, grabbing a piece of paper from the desk nearby to show me.

I quickly glanced at my own dorm assignment. There it was—207, plain as day.

"Oh, hell no—“

Call incoming

Just as my brain started to melt down, my phone buzzed. Mikasa’s name flashed on the screen, and I picked up, not even bothering As a greeting. “Where are you, and why is Eren in your room?” I asked, my voice tight with frustration.

On the other end, Mikasa sounded just as bewildered. “Okay, so I was just as surprised when I saw Armin in your dorm, but we figured it out. There was a mix-up with the dorm assignments, and... they can’t change it.”

"WHAT?!" I screamed into the phone, my frustration boiling over. Before I could say anything else, Eren grabbed my phone and echoed my shock with his own confusion, “What?!” He put the phone on speaker

“What the hell do you mean they can’t change it? School hasn’t even started! They have to fix it because I am definitely not rooming with Ms. Control Freak over here,” Eren said, looking me up and down with an irritating look.

I clenched my fists, my patience hanging by a thread. The urge to slap him right then and there was overwhelming. My relationship with Eren was… complicated, to say the least. To keep it short, we never saw eye to eye—we couldn’t stand each other’s lifestyles, let alone the idea of sharing a space.

I see myself as someone organized, who knows how to navigate life with a clear plan, confident in my ability to talk things through and stand my ground when needed. Eren, on the other hand, is the complete opposite—laid-back, spontaneous, and annoyingly carefree. He’s the type who thinks life is meant to be lived without schedules or rules. It’s no wonder we clash constantly; we’re like oil and water.

After a few more minutes of heated back-and-forth, Mikasa’s call finally ended, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded, in the middle of what was now our dorm. Eren ran a hand down his face, visibly irritated. I had no idea how we were supposed to survive this.

“Well, if we’re going to make this work, I gotta lay out some ground rules,” Eren announced, and I could already tell this was going to be a joke. “You don’t bother me, I don’t bother you. Simple as that.” He extended his hand for me to shake as if we were closing some grand deal.

The audacity. “When did we agree on you being the boss?” I shot back.

He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he muttered, giving me an exasperated look.

That only fueled my annoyance. I started rattling off about chores, noise levels, and a bunch of other things that he would absolutely need to respect if we were going to survive living together.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there. Today’s already stressful enough, and I don’t need you adding to my headache,” he said, waving a hand dismissively in my face. The nerve of this guy.

Before I could snap back, he grabbed my shoulders, physically moved me out of his room, and shut the door behind me. “THIS CONVERSATION ISN’T OVER!” I yelled. Silence. Nothing but silence from the other side.

I groaned in frustration, knowing there was no point in arguing with him right now. Instead, I turned my attention to hauling my things inside before it got too dark.

After I finally finished unpacking and getting everything in order, I belly-flopped onto my bed, exhausted and frustrated. All the perfect plans I had for this year were already crumbling thanks to Eren. Sharing a dorm with him was the last thing I expected, and it felt like everything was ruined before it even began.

Now, all I could do was hope things didn’t spiral further out of control. I just hoped—for my sanity—that living with him wouldn’t be as bad as I feared. But deep down, I had a sinking feeling that hope might be too much to ask for.

-

It’s been almost a month since the semester started, and things have been... weird. But weirdly enough, calm—for now. I haven’t seen or heard much from Eren lately, and honestly, I’m not complaining. The only thing that really pisses me off is that he’s a total slob. It’s such a turn-off, especially for someone who looks the way he does. Some nights, I have to wear noise-canceling headphones just to sleep because of his loud, never-ending gaming sessions. I’ve tried to let it slide, but if I have to endure this for an entire year, I’m seriously doubting whether I’ll make it out alive.

“How’s it with Armin?” I asked Mikasa, picking at my food. We decided to hang out after classes, needing some downtime.

“Oh my god, it’s so nice,” she gushed. “We cook together most of the time, split chores, he helps me study when I need it, and every week, we watch these awful reality TV shows together and laugh our heads off.” She kept going, laughing as she spoke, until she noticed my deadpan expression.

“Oh... shit. My bad,” she giggled, trying—and failing—to hide her amusement.

I rolled my eyes at Mikasa’s enthusiasm. “Well, how is it with Eren?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

I sighed dramatically, stabbing at my food before taking a bite. “The complete opposite of your story,” I muttered.

“That bad?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh yeah, that bad,” I said, launching into a full-blown rant about all the irritating things Eren had done over the past month. It felt good to let it all out. “Like, I don’t get what girls see in him. He’s just a pretty face, that’s it.”

Mikasa nodded, somewhat amused. “Well, Eren’s always been laidback about most things. He always says his charm is his best quality,” she shrugged, going back to her meal.

I scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Like that guy has any charm.”

The rest of the day passed by, and after our little venting session, Mikasa drove me back to the dorm. Just as I was getting out, she leaned over. “Oh, before you go—are you going to Jean’s party tonight?”

Ugh. A party. I could already feel the exhaustion creeping in just thinking about it. “Probably not. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do at home, and let’s be real—the chances of Eren being there are ridiculously high, so... yeah, I’m good,” I said with a shrug.

Mikasa looked disappointed, but I could see she understood. “Fine, but you have to go to the next one with me. Promise?”

I laughed and held out my pinky. “Deal. I’ll be there, I swear.”

She grinned and wrapped her pinky around mine. “Deal,” she said with a smile before driving off.

I quickly headed up to my dorm, pushing the door open with a sigh of relief. Looks like Eren’s not here. He’s probably already left for Jean’s party, I thought, grateful for the peace and quiet. A whole night to myself. Finally.

I grabbed a snack and a drink from the kitchen, then wandered into my room. As I put on some music, the weight of the week started to melt away. I removed my makeup and prepared for my long-overdue everything shower. The kind of self-care I hadn’t indulged in for weeks.

After soaking under the warm water for what felt like forever, I got out, wrapped myself in a towel, and began my skincare routine, singing along to my favorite songs. It felt amazing to be alone and completely in my element.

With my skincare finally on my face, I debated whether to stay up and do something productive or just crash for the night. Nah, I’ll just sleep, I decided, already feeling the exhaustion creep in. I slipped into a pair of soft sleeping shorts and a baggy tank top, sinking into my bed.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I closed my eyes and drifted into a deep, peaceful slumber, relishing the calm while it lasted.

BANG

I jolted upright in bed, my heart racing as I glanced around, trying to figure out what had startled me awake. What the hell? I whispered to myself, straining to listen. It could be Eren-I really hoped it was, because the alternative was too terrifying to consider. But then I heard something worse: muffled laughter, followed by unmistakable kissing sounds. Oh no. Scratch that, I hope it's a killer.

Eren's door slammed shut, and I clung to the hope that maybe-just maybe-it would all stop there. I tried to force myself back to sleep, convincing myself that I could ignore it. I was so close to drifting off again when the low moans started, followed by soft curses. My eyes flew open, and I groaned into my pillow, Please, for the love of all things, let this nightmare end.

It didn't. The sounds got louder, the bed rhythmically slamming against the wall. I grabbed my headphones, shoved them over my ears, and stuffed a pillow on top of my head, trying to block out the never-ending torture happening just feet away. I lay there, my regret over every life decision that led me here slowly consuming me. This was going to be a very, very long night.

So bright. I blinked against the harsh light streaming through the window, rubbing my eyes. Barely an hour of sleep after a night of absolute torture. The girl had left about twenty minutes ago, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep. Coffee. That’s what I need.

Dragging myself out of bed, I slipped into my slippers to avoid the cold floor and trudged to the kitchen. The coffee was brewing, and I was almost in the clear when I heard Eren’s door creak open. Groaning internally, I rolled my eyes and tried to hurry, hoping to avoid whatever awkward conversation was coming. I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and fished the creamer out of the fridge. Footsteps approached behind me.

“Hey, roomie,” Eren’s voice chimed, way too cheerful for my liking. Don’t punch him, don’t punch him, I chanted silently, eyes fixed on the coffee machine, willing it to finish faster.

“Wow, you look horrible,” he commented, pouring himself a cup with a grin. I shot him a glare.

“Yeah, thanks. I didn’t get any sleep last night,” I muttered, finally pouring my coffee and moving to the table to prepare it. Eren laughed, probably remembering the obnoxious noise from last night. This annoying asshole.

“Didn’t realize you were here. My bad” he said, not sounding sorry at all while grabbing the creamer next to me, a smirk still playing on his lips.

I am not going to survive this year.

“I don’t care what you do, just have some fucking decency,” I shot back, sipping my coffee as I walked back to my room. I could feel Eren’s eyes on me, but I didn’t turn around. Shutting the door behind me, I set the mug on my nightstand and groaned at the thought of the day ahead. No sleep, two essays due, and classes to sit through. Today is going to suck.

I dragged myself to the bathroom, got dressed in something comfy but cute, and grabbed my things. Heading back to the kitchen, I filled a water bottle and rinsed out my coffee mug—then, Unwillingly, Eren’s dirty dishes too. Just as I finished, I heard his door creak open again. Speak of the devil.

“Thanks for washing those,” he said nonchalantly, rummaging through the fridge. “I probably wasn’t going to do it anyway.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a retort. As I dried my hands with a paper towel, he asked, “Want me to give you a ride to school?”

I blinked, caught off guard. What? “No, I’m good,” I replied sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to deal with the dirty looks from all your fangirls.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” he responded dryly, clearly unamused.

Great start to the day, I thought as I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, not sparing him another glance.

Eren’s footsteps echoed behind me as I stormed off. “You don’t have to back down on my offer—it still stands,” he called out, clearly amused. His voice alone made my blood boil.

Without even turning to face him, I snapped, “You know what offer would actually be great? How about you shut the fuck up at night, pick up your own shit, clean your own damn dishes, and maybe grow some balls while you’re at it?” My voice trembled with frustration, the words flying out before I could even stop them.

I expected him to have some snarky comeback. And, of course, he didn’t disappoint. Eren rolled his eyes, scoffing like my words barely registered. But then, in an instant, he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face him.

“Oh yeah? Let’s talk about you,” he shot back, his voice louder, angrier. “How about you stop having a stick up your ass and acting like you’re my damn mother, stop meddling in my business, and just fucking stop being a damn control freak if a fucking cup isn’t placed in the right spot”

We stood there in the middle of the parking lot, glaring at each other like two wild animals ready to tear each other apart. The tension was palpable, our frustrations bubbling to the surface in a messy, chaotic explosion.

I laughed, but it wasn’t out of amusement—it was out of sheer, exhausted frustration. “I get it, you want that laid-back college life, no responsibilities, carefree and easygoing? That’s not me. I can’t live like that Yeager, so you just have to fucking deal with me.”

I stepped closer, my eyes boring into his. “And if you can’t handle it, then go dorm with someone else. Hell, sneak out and find someone willing to put up with your shit. I don’t care. But don’t expect me to change.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned on my heel and walked away, refusing to look back. Let him stew in his own arrogance. I was done.

After that intense moment with Eren, I decided to walk to campus alone. I didn’t care how long it took, I just needed to cool off, to breathe. The crisp morning air helped, but the frustration still lingered, swirling around in my head. By the time I made it to my first class, I was already dreading being there. But skipping wasn’t an option—I needed to do well. I sighed, taking out my things and finding a corner seat, hoping to be invisible for the rest of the period.

As I was pulling out my notebook, I felt someone sit down next to me. Turning to see who it was, I saw Armin, offering me a friendly smile. "Hey, no one’s sitting here, right?" he asked politely.

“No, don’t worry, you’re good,” I replied, grateful for the company. At least Armin was easy to deal with.

The class started, and after a while, we were given some time to work individually. I dove into my assignments, trying to focus, when Armin spoke up. "You and Eren got into an argument, didn’t you?"

I froze mid-sentence, turning to face him. “How do you know?” I asked, surprised but not totally shocked. Eren had a big mouth.

Armin stopped typing and glanced at me. "He picked me up this morning, and I could tell something was off. When I asked him what was wrong, he kind of… exploded about you. He was pretty worked up."

I groaned internally, rubbing my forehead. "God, I hate him," I muttered. "I don’t get why you’re friends with him. He’s like the devil himself."

Armin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "He’s not all that bad, I promise."

I scoffed at that, going back to my paper. "Then what do I do? I can’t even be in the same room as him without wanting to strangle him."

Armin turned back to me, a thoughtful look on his face. "You just need to give him a chance. Yeah, he can be frustrating, but I swear, if you get past that, you might actually find something you like about him."

I rolled my eyes, thinking, Yeah, like when he shuts up. But I couldn’t help considering what Armin was saying. He made it sound so easy like Eren was just misunderstood or something. Still, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give him a chance when he seemed to go out of his way to drive me crazy.

I sighed, “I don’t know, Armin. It feels like I’m the only one trying here. He doesn’t give me any reason to want to make this work.”

Armin smiled sympathetically. "Maybe he’s not great at showing it, but trust me, he’s not as indifferent as he seems."

I nodded half-heartedly, not fully convinced. As much as I hated to admit it, Armin had a point—there had to be something redeemable about Eren. I just wasn’t sure I was willing to dig deep enough to find it.

Just as I was about to respond to Armin, the bell rang, cutting our conversation short. We both quickly packed up our things. “Just think about what I said, okay? Let me know how it goes,” Armin said as we parted ways. I nodded, though I wasn’t sure how to even start. We said our goodbyes and headed in opposite directions to our next classes.

Finally, lunch arrived. Mikasa had texted me earlier to meet at the cafeteria, so I made my way over. Spotting her quickly, I saw her waving her arm at me from across the room. I hurried over and sat next to her, taking the seat at the edge of the table. “Hey guys,” I greeted with a smile, placing my things down. The usual group was there—Mikasa, Sasha, Annie, Connie, and Niccolo.

As soon as I sat down, we were all deep in conversation, laughing about the most random things. Connie groaned dramatically, slumping over the table. “Ugh, I’m totally going to fail Mr. Ackerman’s class. It's like he’s speaking some alien language,” he grumbled, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Sasha, in her usual fashion, was busy shoveling food into her mouth as she snuggled up next to Niccolo. "Yeah, I don’t know how to help you with that, buddy," she managed to say between bites, drawing more laughs.

Just as we were settling into our groove, Jean, Armin, and Eren walked up to the table. Jean slid in next to Connie, while Armin took the seat next to Annie, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Eren, to my mild annoyance, sat down next to Armin, but I tried to ignore him, focusing on my drink instead.

“Why the hell did you guys take so long?” Connie asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair.

“Don’t look at me,” Jean quickly replied, jabbing a thumb toward Armin and Eren. “These two took forever talking about something.”

Talking? About what? I wondered, sipping my drink to cover my curiosity. I glanced briefly at Armin, who seemed to give me a look that said, I’ll tell you later. Eren, on the other hand, was focused on picking at his food, not making eye contact with anyone. Whatever it was, I could feel tension lingering between us, like unfinished business hanging in the air. But right now, surrounded by friends and laughter, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with it.

Mikasa squeezed my arm, her excitement contagious. "Oh my god, we need to go do something soon! I’ve been dying for some girl time." Before I could respond, Sasha perked up, practically bouncing in her seat. “Ooh, ooh, me and Annie too!” she added loudly, making Annie chuckle as she gave a small nod of agreement. Mikasa smiled and nodded, and we all quickly made plans for next week. It felt good to look forward to something light and fun, especially after the chaos of the morning.

As we continued talking, I found myself glancing over at Eren, who was in deep conversation with Armin and Annie. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed serious, their faces unusually focused. I looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of curiosity.

“Shit, time’s almost up,” Niccolo suddenly announced, snapping us all out of our conversations. Everyone checked their phones for the time. Some of us had one more class left, while others, like me, were done for the day. I silently celebrated the fact that I didn’t have any more obligations. We all began packing up and saying our goodbyes, and I decided to take the long way home, wanting to enjoy a walk with my music.

While I was about to start walking away from campus, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I pulled out one earbud and turned around, already dreading who it might be. Of course, it was Eren.

I sighed and, without a word, put my earbud back in, continuing to walk. But he wasn’t letting me go that easily. "Wait," he called after me. I stopped but didn’t bother turning around this time. “What?” I asked, my tone flat, trying to keep the distance between us.

"Come on, I’ll give you a ride," he offered. I shot back with a quick, “No thanks,” and started walking again. I really didn’t want to deal with him right now.

But then he grabbed my arm and spun me around, clearly more frustrated than before. “God, if you keep walking, I swear...” he muttered, closing his eyes for a second as if trying to control his temper.

I yanked my arm out of his grip and crossed them over my chest. “What is it, Eren?” I asked, exasperated.

“Let me give you a ride as an apology. For this morning,” he said, softer now, looking at me more earnestly. “We literally live together.” I stared at him, weighing my options. I really wanted to say no, to just keep walking and avoid the whole situation. But Armin’s words from earlier crept into my mind. Maybe this could be the start of finding that “something” Armin seemed so sure I’d like about Eren.

“Fine,” I muttered, feeling like I might regret this decision but going along with it anyway.

He led the way to his car, and we both got in, the tension settling in as soon as the doors closed. The awkwardness between us was suffocating, and I instantly regretted not just walking home. The car felt too small, like the air was thicker, and the silence was far from comfortable. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and rested my head against the seat, turning to look out the window. The sound of the engine humming was the only noise, and it only made the silence feel heavier.

The longer we drove in that silence, the more anxious I felt. My fingers tapped lightly on my knee as I tried to distract myself, but all I could think about was how I just wanted this ride to be over. I thought about breaking the silence but I didn’t even know where to start. Every second dragged on, my thoughts running wild, wondering what he was thinking, and why he insisted on driving me. But mostly, I wondered how much longer this silent, awkward drive would last.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, stealing a quick glance at Eren out of the corner of my eye. He had his hands gripping the wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white, and his jaw was clenched like he was holding something back. I could tell he wanted to say something, but knowing Eren, he’d probably just stay stubbornly quiet. The silence between us stretched until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“So… you’ve been pretty quiet,” I said, breaking the ice, my voice sounding a little shakier than I wanted it to. I didn’t even know why I was trying to make small talk. Maybe it was the tension, or maybe it was what Armin said earlier, not sure.

He didn’t respond immediately, and for a second, I thought he was going to keep ignoring me. Then, without looking at me, he spoke. “I didn’t mean to piss you off this morning,” he muttered, his voice low, almost like he was trying not to be overheard by his own thoughts.

That caught me off guard. I didn’t expect an apology, not from Eren. He usually doubled down or shrugged things off like they didn’t matter. “You didn’t piss me off,” I said, almost reflexively, but even I knew that was a lie.

He let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “Don’t lie. I know I did. I get it. I’m messy, I’m loud, and I don’t pick up after myself. But it’s not like you’re perfect either, you know?” His voice had an edge to it, but there was something softer underneath, something that almost sounded like guilt.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Part of me wanted to keep arguing, to tell him he had no idea how difficult he made things for me, but another part of me wanted to understand why he was even bothering to apologize now. I opened my mouth to speak but then closed it, feeling the lump in my throat rising.

“I didn’t say I was perfect,” I finally admitted. “I’m just… tired, Eren. Tired of all of it.” My voice was quiet, almost defeated, as I stared out the window again. “I didn’t come here to play house with you or deal with this constant tension between us. It’s exhausting.”

The car fell back into silence, but this time, it wasn’t the same awkward, heavy silence as before. It felt different like both of us were waiting for the other to say something real for the first time.

Eren’s grip on the steering wheel loosened a little. “I know,” he said softly. “I didn’t expect to… I don’t know, live like this either. I thought it’d be different. Easier.” His voice trailed off for a moment, and I could see him wrestling with his thoughts.

I turned to look at him, my eyebrows knitting together. “Then why do you act like you don’t care? Like none of this matters to you?” The frustration was clear in my voice now, bubbling up from everything I’d been holding back for so long.

Eren took a deep breath. “I do care,” he said quietly. “It’s just… I’m not good at showing it. Not with all this other stuff going on.” He paused, glancing at me quickly before looking back at the road. “There’s more happening than just you and me fighting over dishes and who’s more responsible. I’ve got my own shit to figure out.”

His words caught me off guard again. I knew Eren had his own struggles, but he’d never been the type to talk about them. He always kept things bottled up until they exploded in moments like this morning.

For a second, I considered asking him what was really going on, but something held me back. Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was just knowing that neither of us was ready to really open up yet. Instead, I let out a sigh and leaned back in the seat.

“We’ve got to figure something out,” I said quietly, almost more to myself than to him. “This isn’t working.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice just as soft. “I’ll try harder. But I need you to meet me halfway.”

The tension between us hadn’t completely disappeared, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like we were actually getting somewhere. Maybe it wasn’t a solution, not yet, but it was a step. And that was more than I’d expected when I got into the car with him.

I was going to answer back, but it seemed like we already made it back to the dorm, so I just kept quiet for now. After that talk, things started getting a bit more normal, I think? Even though we’d been giving each other space, I couldn’t help but wonder if things were really as normal as they seemed. The lack of arguing didn’t mean things were fixed, and I knew ignoring the tension wouldn’t make it go away. I sighed, brushing away the thoughts of Eren as my phone buzzed again with more messages from the girls’ group chat. Tonight was supposed to be a break from everything, a night to let loose and enjoy myself, but my mind was stuck on him.

MIKA: Okayyy are you guys ready??

MIKA: Omg, we need to take a ton of pictures tonight!

Me: YES, just gotta put my shoes on

SASH: Girl, I’m already dressed and looking too fine, Annie is with me and also ready to goooo.

HISTORIA: Ymir and I are ready as well, and we’re bringing drinks for pregame 🥂.

MIKA: Okay here’s how it's going to go, First I pick up Sasha and Annie, then Historia and Ymir, then lastly Eren’s lover! Okay, we are good to go🥳

Me: Excuse me who are you picking up last?

HISTORIA: ooo did we miss anything??

YMIR: Spill now.

MIKA: 🙄

MIKA: yk we are going to talk about it

Me: Yeah I think I’m going to make a rain check for this girl's night

MIKA: No you're not ☺️, Leaving my house right now, I’ll be there in 10 so get your cute ass ready 💋.

I rolled my eyes, but a small grin tugged at my lips. If anyone could pull me out of a funk, it was Mikasa and the rest of the girls. Despite the swirling thoughts about Eren, I knew tonight would be fun, and maybe that’s what I needed to stop overthinking for a bit.

Grabbing my jacket and bag, I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror. Satisfied with my outfit and makeup, I headed to the kitchen for a quick snack—no way was I about to drink on an empty stomach. I grabbed a bag of chips, poured some into a bowl, and leaned against the counter while snacking. As I reached for another handful, a few chips slipped through my fingers and scattered on the floor. I sighed and bent down to pick them up.

Just then, Eren’s door swung open. I froze, hearing his voice cut through the silence. He was on the phone.

“Armin, I’m serious about this,” he said, clearly frustrated, pacing in the living room. Armin’s voice was faint, but I could still make out his response.

“Okay, okay, I get it. But you’re acting like it’s a big deal. She’s just a person, man. Talk to her like an adult,” Armin laughed.

“I swear I’ll come over and beat the shit out of you,” Eren replied in an eerily calm tone.

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Armin muttered.

There was a long pause, and then Eren spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “I don’t know, man. Ever since that conversation in the car, I’ve had this weird feeling in my chest. It’s driving me insane. That’s why I’ve been ignoring her.”

My heart nearly stopped. Was he talking about me?

I stayed frozen, crouched on the floor, not wanting him to know I’d overheard. But of course, the universe had other plans.

RING. RING. RING.

My phone blared to life, Mikasa’s name lighting up the screen. I panicked, fumbling to silence it, but it was too late. Eren’s footsteps stopped, and I could feel him staring at me. Slowly, I stood up and turned to face him. His expression was a mix of shock and embarrassment as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“I-I thought you left,” he stammered, hanging up his own call.

“Uh, yeah… I was just about to.” I grabbed my things in a rush, my mind racing for an exit strategy.

“Wait, hold on,” Eren said, his voice softer now, as if he wanted to explain.

I stopped but didn’t turn around. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation. I’m sorry. Can we talk about it later? I really need to go.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, sounding just as awkward as I felt.

Without another word, I bolted for the door, not daring to look back.

As soon as I was out the door, my heart was racing. I couldn’t believe I had just overheard Eren talking about me like that, and worse, he knew I’d heard. The whole situation felt surreal. I was barely processing his words, let alone my own feelings about what I’d just witnessed. That “weird feeling in his chest”? What did that even mean? And why did it bother him so much? My mind was spinning as I rushed down the stairs and out of the building.

Mikasa’s car pulled up just in time, the headlights flashing as she waved at me from the driver’s seat. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness that was still lingering from the interaction with Eren. Getting into the car, I forced a smile, hoping she wouldn’t immediately sense that something was off.

“Ready to party?” she asked, her usual excitement shining through. The girls in the backseat echoed her enthusiasm with cheers and chatter, making it impossible not to smile at least a little.

“Yeah, totally,” I replied, though my voice felt far from convincing. I tried to immerse myself in the energy of the car, but Eren’s words kept replaying in my mind. Why was he feeling weird? Why had he been ignoring me because of it?

As we drove off, I leaned back in my seat, glancing out the window, hoping the night out would help me forget about it for now. But deep down, I knew this wasn’t something that would just go away.

“Here, drink this!” Sasha said, thrusting a cup into my hand. I took it, confused. “Wait, we’re drinking already?” I glanced around at the group, noticing everyone nodding enthusiastically—everyone except Mikasa, of course.

Without much hesitation, I took a sip, letting the alcohol work its magic and pushing my worries to the back of my mind. A few more minutes passed, and we finally parked.

“AHH, we’re here!” Mikasa squealed, grabbing my hand and jumping excitedly. We’d decided to hit up one of the most popular bars in the city for our girls’ night out, and with the alcohol starting to hit me, I was just as excited as she was.

After flashing our IDs, we stepped inside, the heavy bass of the music pulsing through our bodies. Our first stop was the bar, and the night took off from there—two hours of drinking, laughing, dancing, and just letting loose. Eventually, we stumbled to a booth at the back of the bar, another round of drinks in hand.

“Damn, Annie, I didn’t know you could dance like that! Armin is one lucky guy,” Sasha teased, making Annie laugh and wave her hand dismissively.

“Omg, you know what we should talk about?” Historia slurred, clearly tipsy. We all turned to her, curious. Her gaze landed on me. “You,” she said, pointing a wobbly finger in my direction.

“RIGHT! What’s up with this ‘Eren’s lover’ thing? Are you two dating or what?” Ymir asked, smirking as she took a sip of her drink.

I scoffed, “NO.”

“Not yet,” Mikasa added, grinning mischievously.

I groaned and put my head down on the table. “How many times do I have to say it? It’s complicated. We’re basically ignoring each other right now, and when we do talk, it’s just *hiccup* awkward.”

Mikasa leaned in, her voice soft but serious. “Look, I’ve known Eren my whole life. That man is crazy about you.”

“Yeah, crazy enough to drive me crazy,” I mumbled to myself, rolling my eyes.

But to my surprise, Annie spoke up. “I gotta agree with Mikasa. I’ve seen it myself.”

I lifted my head and looked at her, surprised. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Ooo, this is getting good,” Sasha said, leaning in closer to Historia, while Ymir pulled Historia closer to herself as if they were settling in for some drama.

Annie smiled slyly. “Remember the day he offered to drive you home? That was because Armin and I pushed him to do it. He was nervous about asking you himself.”

I blinked in disbelief. “Nervous? About me?”

Sasha grinned. “Well, well, seems like Eren’s not as smooth as he pretends to be.”

The whole table erupted in laughter, but my mind was spinning. Eren, nervous? Over me? I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it added a layer to things I hadn’t seen before.

“You know what would solve all your problems with Yeager?” Ymir asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. I turned to her, my face full of confusion. “You two just need to fuck.”

I choked on my drink, coughing as I shook my head. Well, that sobered me up real quick. “No, no, absolutely not. That’s not gonna happen,” I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

“Why not?” Sasha chimed in, wide-eyed with curiosity.

“Yeah, I kind of agree with Ymir,” Historia said, nodding.

Annie, who had been quiet for a while, just smirked and shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”

Great, now I was officially cornered by my friends, all focused on my complicated relationship with Eren. The rest of the night became a blur of drinks and conversations about him—lucky me. By then, I had switched to water, trying to sober up before the night ended.

Around 2 a.m., we decided to call it quits. Ymir, who could hold her liquor like a pro, drove us all home. After she dropped me off, I waved my goodbyes, rolling my eyes at their teasing “good luck” wishes.

Climbing the stairs to my apartment, my mind replayed the night’s conversations, particularly Ymir’s blunt suggestion: You guys need to fuck. I shook my head, trying to push away the ridiculous idea. “Absolutely not,” I muttered to myself.

I unlocked the door quietly, stepping inside. The place was dark, which meant Eren had probably gone to bed. I sighed with relief—no awkward encounters tonight. But as I flicked on the kitchen lights, I jumped at the sight of Eren sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty beer cans.

A small scream escaped me, causing him to stir and sit up groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh my god, you scared me,” I gasped, my heart still racing.

Eren blinked a few times, looking around before his gaze settled on me. “Sorry,” he mumbled, still half-asleep.

I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next, the tension in the air thickening as the awkwardness between us returned.

“What time is it?” he asked, standing up and stretching, giving me a glimpse of his stomach. I quickly looked away, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in my chest.

“2:10,” I muttered quietly. He groaned while picking up the empty beer cans, and tossing them into the bin on the other side of the kitchen.

“You were out for that long?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and irritation.

“Why does it matter to you?” I shot back, crossing my arms defensively. My eyes dropped to the floor, trying to avoid looking at him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back. I need to explain that phone call… it’s been eating at me.”

Ugh, no, please. Not tonight.

“Can we do this tomorrow? I’m exhausted,” I said, slipping off my heels, realizing I’d forgotten to leave them at the front door.

“Just listen to me,” he said, ignoring my plea as he launched into his explanation, rambling on about the call. But my mind was elsewhere—on Ymir’s stupid suggestion. I don’t want to sleep with him. He’s irresponsible, reckless, irritating, and infuriating. And his stupid, gorgeous face. His perfect lips. Wait—no. Stop it.

“Are you even listening?” Eren’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He was leaning forward now, his arm resting on the table, his face inches from mine.

“Huh?” I blinked, trying to focus.

He sighed in frustration, dragging his hand down his face. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

I shrugged, meeting his gaze. “I’ve heard.”

The tension between us was unbearable, thick enough to suffocate. We just stared at each other, the silence stretching until it felt like something had to break.

Finally, I stood up, breaking eye contact. “Well, if this conversation’s over, I’m going to my room.”

I turned to leave, but before I could take another step, Eren grabbed my arm and spun me around. Without warning, his hands cupped my face, and in an instant, his lips crashed into mine.

The frustration and tension between us melted away, replaced by a sudden surge of desire. I melted into him, my fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. It was filled with passion, with urgency. Eren’s hands slid to my waist, pulling me even closer as the heat between us intensified. It felt good—too good.

Wait, no. This isn’t right.

I pulled back, my lips still tingling from the lingering sensation of his. Looking up at him, I saw the confusion in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hand resting on my hip.

“N-No… this can’t happen,” I stammered, taking a step back, though I already regretted leaving his warmth. “This whole situation is confusing enough, and this… this will only make it worse.”

He sighed, his gaze still locked on mine, intense and unwavering. The silence between us stretched, awkward, and charged with the things we weren’t saying. Slowly, Eren stepped forward, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear before cupping my shoulders and pulling me in once again.

But this time, it wasn’t for a kiss on the lips.

He kissed my forehead, soft and slow, then my nose, my cheek, my jaw, and finally my neck. Each kiss was deliberate, lingering, and my breath hitched as his lips moved lower. His hands followed, trailing down my body with maddening precision. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Eren was intoxicating, overwhelming every corner of my mind and soul.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered against my neck, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. His kisses grew more intense, and I snapped back to reality, realizing just how deep I was falling.

Oh god.

The kisses trailed higher once again, prompting me to wrap my arms around his neck. He stared at me, his voice barely above a whisper, "Do you want this?" Without thinking, I blurted, "Fuck yes."

A smile played on his lips as he claimed mine once more, his need growing with every passing second. Just as I was about to pull back and suggest we move to his room, he deepened the kiss. His hands gripped my ass, lifting me effortlessly as he strode towards my room. This Fucker. The door slammed shut behind us, and he laid me down on the bed, breaking the kiss to gaze down at me. I panted, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come.

"God, you drive me crazy, you know that," he murmured, his lips returning to my neck in a passionate kiss. I couldn't help the small moan that escaped me, lost as I was in his touch, his words, his games. Maybe I should have been embarrassed by how easily he got under my skin, but at that moment, I simply didn't care.

He pulled back yet again, leaving me breathless and wanting. Before I could even process my thoughts, he'd stripped off his shirt and tossed it across my room. Any words I might have had abandoned me, leaving me staring at his incredible physique in stunned silence. "Wow, all of this finally gets you to shut up for a second, maybe I should’ve fucked you earlier" he teased, pulling me upright and claiming my mouth in another scorching kiss. His hands found the zipper of my dress and slid it down, the sound echoing in the room.

He slipped the dress over my head, his hands gentle as he eased me back onto the bed. "Yeah, you should’ve," I finally managed to retort, my voice muffled against his lips.

His hands moved behind my back once more, but this time, his focus was on my bra. With a practiced touch, he unfastened it with a single hand. "How many girls have you done that to?" I teased, trying to sound collected despite the flutter in my chest. "Does it matter?" he countered, his voice low and husky. "The only person I'm going to do it for from now on is you baby."

He slid the bra straps down my arms, his fingers grazing my skin and sending shivers through me. As he bared me to his gaze, he leaned in, his lips tracing a path from my collarbone to the swell of my right breast. "Oh, gosh, Eren," I breathed, his warm tongue setting my nerves ablaze. He didn't neglect my left side, his hand cupping and squeezing my flesh as his mouth worked its magic.

My mind was short-circuited, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through me. I couldn't believe how my day had derailed, from waking up alone to Eren worshiping my body. He finally lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with desire as he stood and licked his lips. "God, you're gorgeous," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, then my lips, the contact making me ache for more.

My hand instinctively reached for him, finding the hard length of his erection straining against his pants. He groaned into my mouth, his hips rolling into my touch as he pressed himself against me. "F-Fuck," he panted, laughter threading through the curse. He guided my hand deeper into his hard length, then higher to explore his chest, his nipples peeking under my touch, then lastly to his lips, where he pressed light kisses to the middle of my palm. At that moment, I knew I was a goner.

He gently laid my hand back down to my chest. Standing upright, he began to unbutton his pants, swiftly removing them. For a moment, I felt no shame in staring. But then I met his gaze, his eyes watching my every move, and a flutter of anxiety rose in my chest. I wasn't sure where to look next.

He bent back down, his lips brushing against my jaw as his hands slid lower, to the hem of my panties. "May I?" he asked, his voice soft. I nodded without hesitation. "I need words, baby," he said, looking back at me with an intense heat in his eyes. "Yes," I replied quickly. "Yes, please."

Eren pressed one more sweet kiss to my lips, his mouth trailing lower and lower as he slid my panties down my legs. He moved lower, his face inches from mine, his lips pressing gentle kisses around my center. I felt myself growing wetter, my breath catching. "Eren, please," I begged, my fingers tangling in his hair.

"Please what? What do you need sweet girl?" Eren asked, looking up at me. His nicknames always made my heart flutter, even if I wouldn't admit it out loud. I took a deep breath, pushing past my embarrassment. "I need you to fuck me," I admitted. "I need you inside me."

He didn't make me wait for his response. With a groan, Eren's tongue slid along my center, sucking my clit into his mouth as he spread my legs wider. I cried out, my hips arching off the bed. "Holy shit, Eren, don't stop," I begged and whined, my fingers pulling him closer. He moaned against me, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through me. I hadn't felt this good in years.

Eren didn’t stop, and it felt so fucking good. It just went on with his tongue for a few more minutes, my whole body in bliss, pulling me closer to my climax. “Fuck Eren, it's so good, your so good,” I said moving my hips to match his pace, moaning too loud. I bit my lip looking down at him between my legs, then I noticed his hips slowly rolling onto my bed. Before thinking anymore he pushed a finger into me, pushing it in and out. “Cumming, I’m cumming, FUCK!” I said whining, my knees buckled while going through my high. He left my core, all swollen and wet.

My eyes started to shut, exhaustion was hitting me pretty fast after calming down. “Hey hey,” Eren said kissing my face, his kisses were soft, yet filled with a fiery passion that sent shivers down my spine. “Just a little longer, Do sleep yet baby” I opened my eyes, “We still aren’t done yet”.

He chuckled, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “You’re adorable when you’re sleepy.” I rolled my eyes playfully, but the affection in his gaze made my heart flutter.

Kissing me again, I could taste myself on him and I basically melted in his touch. Wrapping my arms around him, I savored the moment.

“I can’t wait any longer,” I whispered, my hands starting to trail down his abs, moving lower to his underwear band. Without hesitation, I pulled it down not wanting to wait, eager to finally feel him. He helps me and yanks it off of him. The sheer size of his dick made me worried on if it will fit or not. I gripped the tip softly and he bucks his hips instantly, “Shit” He said closing his eyes and encouraging me to continue.

While doing that I swiftly grabbed a condom from my drawer giving it to him. “You just have these laying in your room?” he spoke out while tearing it open, moving my hand away and rolling it on himself, “You never know, always gotta be safe,” I said while holding on to his arms for support. “Even during sex your just as a goody to shoes” making me frown, “Kidding, It’s cute baby” he smiled kissing me while rubbing his tip in between my cunt.

"I'll go in slow, okay? Let me know if it hurts," he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine.

"O-Okay," I managed to say, breathless and nervous.

He started with his tip, and we both groaned in pleasure. The pain was there, but it felt so good. Inch by inch, he went deeper, and my eyes rolled back with every second. His fingers gripped my thighs as he finally bottomed out. His face was in my neck, breathing heavily, and I had my hands around his back, ready for him to move.

Without a word, he started thrusting harder and harder. "F-Fuck," he gasped. "You're so t-tight and warm, fuckkk." He rolled his head back, grabbing both my legs and placing them on his shoulders.

"So good, fuck Eren!" I exclaimed, grabbing his face in my hands.

"Yeah? You like it when I fuck your greedy pussy like this?" he asked, thrusting harder. I couldn't breathe anymore. I nodded fast.

"Yes, yes, your fucking dick feels amazing, oh my god," I moaned uncontrollably.

I felt close, but I knew I never wanted this to end.

It was too much—overwhelming, yet I savored every second of it. My heart raced, and I found myself biting down on my finger, then my hand, my lip—anything to try and ground myself in that moment. But it was all too good, scrambling my brain, leaving no room for coherent thoughts or words. I was lost, completely consumed by the sensation, and I didn’t want to find my way back.

“S-Shit if you keep squeezing me like that I’ll fucking cum, ughh” he groaned picking up his pace basically making me lose all my air. “E-Eren mhmm!” Moans escaping my mouth every second I have a desire to open my mouth. “Yeah keep screaming my name out like that baby” he said pushing his head in the curve of my neck, his cock was abusing my cunt, I didn’t know if I can take this much longer.

The little noises he let out in my ears is what did it for me, making me cum hard and fast. My nails clawing erens back made me lose my mind, then seconds later I felt eren finish into the condom whining in my ear.

The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, both of us still tangled together, with Eren still inside me. I wrapped my arms around him, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting to face reality just yet. I had just slept with Eren Yeager—my roommate. Damn it, Ymir was right.

-

Ugh, it’s so bright. My tired eyes squinted against the morning light streaming through the curtains, forcing me awake. I looked around, making sure I was in my own room. It didn’t even matter—my head was pounding from last night. The girls’ night out, and… something else. Oh shit.

Slowly, I turned over, dreading what I’d see. There he was. Eren, peacefully asleep, in my bed, his head resting on my pillows. Someone pinch me.

I sank deeper into my sheets, replaying all the memories from last night. It felt like a fever dream. I had seen another side of Eren—one that I knew, deep down, I’d crave from now on. I’d wanted to give him a chance to fix our relationship, to build something like a healthy roommate bond, but now that he was half-naked in my bed, that plan had gone out the window.

My head throbbed as my mind clouded with thoughts of how things would play out. Could I let Eren into my heart, or was I too scared to face what that might mean? The overthinking only made my headache worse. I needed to stop spiraling.

Before I could dwell any further, I felt his arms wrap around me, making me freeze. The racing thoughts stopped. Eren’s breath tickled my hair as he pulled me closer, his hold gentle but firm, grounding me in the moment.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”Eren whispered into my ear, his lips trailing soft kisses along my shoulder. His breath was warm against my skin, and I felt the tension in my chest tighten. Do I tell him the truth? Should I just stay quiet for now?

“Just tell me,” he urged, pulling me closer. His touch was reassuring, but my thoughts were still a mess. I turned to face him, my heart pounding, and caught his gaze. He smiled at me, his lips brushing against mine before pulling back slightly to kiss the tip of my nose.

“Hey,” I said awkwardly, returning a soft smile.

“What’s up?” He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering for a moment. I hesitated again before asking, “What… what are we, Eren?”

His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. I braced myself, nervous about his response.

“Want me to be honest?” He traced a finger gently across my cheek. I nodded, holding my breath.

“I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I know things have been messy, and I’ll work on it. I’ll fix my attitude, be better about my habits—whatever it takes. I just want to be with you. I’ll take you on real dates, buy you flowers, get your favorite food… just give me a chance.”

He wrapped his arms around me again, pulling me into a tight embrace. His words dissolved all my worries and hitting me hard, breaking down every wall I had tried to keep up. He was nervous, but honest, and I could feel the weight of his sincerity. I couldn’t help but giggle at his heartfelt confession.

“Yes,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’d love to give us a chance.”

Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly, laying me back onto the bed, positioning himself above me. His kisses trailed along my jawline, and I laughed as he showered my face with affection, feeling a warmth spread through me.

Later that morning, while lying tangled in the sheets, I grabbed my phone and sent Ymir a quick text: “You were right.”

I glanced over at Eren, his hand still intertwined with mine as he lazily traced circles on my skin.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

[wandanatw0rld]

+18 | men&minor denied

beefy!natasha romanoff x pillowprincess!female reader x college!au

warnings: girlxgirl; Natasha being a boxer; biceps drives reader crazy, so biceps kink(?); semi-public sex; sex on Yelena's car; tattooed Natasha being a popular hot ass; reader being popular as well and Wanda her (platonic?) bestie; a little bit of agnst; smut; brief thigh riding (flashback); Natasha is head over heels about reader boobs and her skirts, supposed cheating, strap on use (r receaving); not proofread.

Just a heads up:

((a) ... - ... (a.))

It means that I'm going to post something about it soon

I guess that's it, have fun ;D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha Romanoff is an asshole and you hate her with all of your being. That's what you're going to say to everyone, but in reality, you really miss her. Wanda lost the count of how many times did you two broke up and she was there to catch the pieces of your heart; sometimes it was just a small piece, but this time it's a big one. Being popular helpt a bit to forget about the red hair, but not fully since you see her on your class break.

You really liked Natasha, but appearly she liked other women and flirted with them.

On fridays, normally you have a party to go, but not this one, you need to study for finals and join Wanda at her dorm to do this together. You put the backpack strap on your shoulder, but before coming out of the class room, you give a final look in the mirror to check how you look. Hair falling on your back, strawberry lip gloss, light make up on the eyes, perfect as always, but the outfit is probably the most important part of you. Pleated skirt, long sleeve shirt under Natasha's favorite rock band t-shirt, The Marvels, and a your black boots. You know the outfit will drive Natasha insane and you love it.

Leaving the classroom, everyone is looking at you, the most popular girl in the college, good grades, polite and gentle, who see you at first will imediatelly thinks you are a shallow whore, but you're not. However, something that people envy about you, every girl, especially the one you hate the most, is that you date, after you, another popular student in the Avengers University.

Natasha Romanoff has even better grades than you, she is mostly quiet and nice, great at sports, loves boxing. She works at the gym next to campus, so many girls go there just because of her, you hate it, but makes the red hair really happy that people trust and follow her instructions.

You used to love seeing Natasha training, punching hard the bag, her tattoed muscles shining while she was sweating. Her biceps always turned you on, especially when you were doing your homework sitting on the corner, legs crossed, writing things down. Some brief moments, when you look at her and wanted being fucked so bad. And she did. She always did. Natasha never says no to her favorite girl.

(a) ...

"You're so hot in this skirt, Detka" Her fingers stretching you out, you're so wet that they keep slipping out.

"Nat- please... Mhmm... Fuck!" She bites the soft skin on your neck, her sweating body against yours makes you moan really loud. Natasha keeps pushing her digits into your pussy, letting a growl coming through her lips when your nails scratch deep her forearm while the orgasm hits you hard.

"So perfect, malyshka".

... (a.)

You washed your thoughts while walk through the hallways, nodding almost gracefully for some students greeting you, so immersed in your on courtesy that doesn't hear someone calling your name.

"Hey, wait" It's Clint, Natasha's best friend. He's carrying some books. "I've been calling your name like forever. Have you seen, Nat?" So she didn't tell him that you two broke up, Natasha tells him everything.

"No, why?" You didn't lie, really not seen her since that night.

"You know, the finals are coming and has two days that she doesn't come to class. She needs to study" Natasha Romanoff skipping classes, something really critical must happened. Having you two broken up before, she always attended classes. "Can you take these books to her? She is probably at the gym".

No I can't, cause we broke up. You wanted to say that, but instead, you just say:

"Ok, I'll take them" Clint leaves with a short wave and you call Wanda.

"I'm waiting for you" She hums.

"I'm gonna get late, Wands. Clint gave me some books to deliver to Natasha" Wanda rolled her eyes while separating some ingredients on her cabinet. "He said that she's skipping classes".

"You really broke her heart this time, honey" She laughs. You always knew that they both never get along, but never known why - actually you do, although prefer to ignore. "You're gonna get late cause you're gonna get laid" Wanda mocks.

"No, I'm not. Bye, love ya".

"Love ya". Wanda, goofly, smiles.

The gym is closed apparenlly, but just for cleaning or something else that you didn't bother to read. You entered, there's loud rock music and you're sure that's Natasha, The Marvels playing really loud. You know that she do this when mad, the last time was about her father, she was so angry that her punches almost fall apart the punching bag plus you had the most insane orgasm when she fucked you from behind in Steve's office.

(b) ...

"Malyshka, you're so good to me" Her nails digging on your waist, her hips bumping against your butt, strap sliding real smooth because of your soaked cunt. "So beautiful accepting everything for me" You feel her front on your back, teeth biting hard the skin on your ribs.

Natasha's fingers starts rubbing your needy bud.

"Nat... I'm gonna... Fuck!" You bite your hand, the small room insanely hot. People, who starts their activities at the gym, their voices on the other side of the door add another layer of lust.

"It's okay, pretty girl. You can cum on my cock" The walls tighten Natasha's cock, she grip your jaw very softly, way more different than what her hips are doing, turning you to face her, kiss feather-like, her tongue tangled on yours. You feels the nod in your stomach undoing.

"Oh God... Fuck!" Your teeth marked on the back of your hands.

... (b.)

Slowly, you went to the room. You were right, Natasha was angry, fists punching so hard that it's seems the whole world was shaking. Sweating and shining biceps made you moan in your mind. She sees you, then stops the music.

"Hi". You greet, Natasha analyzes you up and down, don't get to see it but her pupils has grownth in lust when she sees you in that skirt, it always worked to turn her on. You take a few steps closer, her red hair tied with a braid, she's wearing a top tank blue shirt, breasts beautifully together, cotton shorts. "Why aren't you going to classes?".

"Cause I didn't want to" She answered, cold and sharp.

"Clint asked me to bring you these" You show her books, steps getting closer, very carefully. "What's going on? You just do this when you're mad".

"I'm fine, thanks" She took the books from your hands.

"Okay. Bye" You turn your back to leave.

"Wait" Natasha licked her lips, the sweat make some strands of her hair stick on her cheeks and temples. "Yelena is coming".

"But you love your sister".

"I do, but not this weekend" You sat on the edge of the ring.

"Why?" Natasha's breath finally gets in order.

"She bringing her girlfriend to a double date" .

"Double date with- Oh" You understand, Natasha follows your action, sitting, being this close, you can smell the sweat mixed to her woody perfume, it drives you crazy.

"And my parents are coming too and I didn't tell anyone that we broke up" You look at her, arms cross, her tattooed biceps all sweat and firm, God you love her arms.

(c)...

"Malyshka, it tickles" your teeth dragging on her arms, fingers squeeze them while your hips start moving on her thigh.

"I can't helped. I love your arms" You find the right spot and then starting to move on that.

"Do you, detka?" She kisses your neck, her fingers on your waist, helping with friction on your needy bud.

"Fuck" Your nails scratching her forearms.

"Do you want to sit on my arms and make a mess on them?" You nod, her husky voice made you moan next to her ear. "That's what you want, pretty girl?"

"Yeah" Your moves are frantic, everything you could do is to imagine. "Oh God, I want".

"Yeah, I'm your God. Am I?" You just nod, rubbing more and more your pussy against her thigh, clit desperate to attention.

... (c.)

"I was thinking... Maybe you can pretend we're still together?" Natasha is very close now.

"Nat, I don't think is good idea".

"Please, I'll do anything" Her green limpid eyes never failed to make you crumble, especially when she needed something.

(d) ...

"Pretty please, malyshka" You're under her body, hands sat on her shoulders. "Just a little bit, I promise".

"Nat, it will hurt" Natasha would never do anything to harm you, but she needs your boobs so badly now. Just a tiny little bit, it won't kill.

"I'll be quick" You know that's a lie, when it comes to play with your breasts, Natasha is never quick. "You can even stay lying. Please...".

"Okay, but be carefull, you know they're sore".

"I will, detka" Natasha pull up your shirt, it's actually hers, but you love to use. Your nipples pinch in pain, being on your period, both of you not having sex for almost a whole week made Natasha really desperate, seeking for any opportunity to get physical. Not being allowed to touch your breasts, her favorite part of you, drives her crazy.

You moan in a mix of pain and relief when her tongue circled your left nipple.

"Nat..." She's smiling on your breast, caressing, torturing you. Natasha suck it, her thumbs on your stomach going slow, really slow. "Nat, we can't." You stop her hands.

"Don't worry, detka. I know what I'm doing" Her digits passing through the waistband of your underwear.

... (d.)

"If you do this for me, I'll promise to never ask anything to you" You look at her, green eyes still looking deep in your soul. "Pretty please, malyshka" You can smell her scent more and more closely.

"Please, don't call me that" Oh, but I will. Natasha knows exactly what turns you on. When her accent come real thick while she's fucking you, or in the middle of a fight and happened to curse someone. When she calls you 'detka' and even better 'malyshka', you know what these two words means and it's so sexy and smooth that it never failed to make you forget why were mad at her.

"Call you what, detka?".

"I hate you!" You hold your breath.

"No, you don't" Her fingers touch your thighs. "God, I love you in these skirts. Remember how easy it was to put my hands under" And she does, you close your eyes. "Oh... you hate me so much that your panties are this soak... Tsk... So pathetic, malyshka".

"No, you're pathetic" You get up, anger warming your ears up, hating that Natasha have this much effect on you. "You're an asshole, Natasha".

"I'm an asshole?!" Natasha imitates you, getting up. "You're the one who broke up with me".

"I broke up with you because you cheat on me with Maria".

"My god, you're so stupid. I didn't do anything, for the thousandth time, I have zero interest in her" Natasha's nails dig into her palms, you see the red lines in there. "I want you, why is that so hard to believe?".

"Everybody saw you two at Tony's party, Natasha. Or her mouth wasn't glued to your ear, huh?" You never act so insecure before, always knew what you wanted, what to do, but when Natasha came and made you feel like the most important woman in the world, you started to fear losing everything you both had and the red hair realize that she prefers to be with somebody else.

"She was acting like an idiot and I pushed her. I would never do something to hurt you, you know that".

"I don't know anything anymore, Natasha" You turn your back to her, collecting the backpack.

"Please, be my date tomorrow. I want to impress my dad" Natasha is desperate and you feel terrible, almost at least. "Pretty please, malyshka".

"Okay, but will be the last time we'll be together".

"Fine". Natasha's clench her jaw, she takes what she get.

(e)...

Natasha was in your dorm at eight, the exact time she texted you last night, Wanda was there to support you, they greeted each other seriously and strictly. You went to pick up your things, leaving the two women together at the tiny living room.

"If I see her cry after this dinner, I'll kill you, Romanoff" The now blonde, Natasha, smiled at Wanda.

"Oh, and let her just for you?" Wanda lose her composure just a little. "Nah, I don't think so, witch".

"I'm ready" . Wow. Is everything that Natasha Romanoff can think, the black dress glued on your body, curvy waist well molded by it, but clearly her favorite part of you, your breasts squeezed together, the black high heels wetting up her core. Correction: everything that Natasha can think is how much she wants to devour you.

The stopped car in front of the building is not hers, it's probably Yelena's, but you didn't bother to ask about it. Natasha always liked motorcycles.

"You've changed your hair" Noticing that made Natasha really happy, the blonde hair it's cut on her jaw line, you used to like the red hair, it brings a very 'don't fuck with me' vibes, but now she looks more powerful, plus that suit really fits her. You look her up and down and almost lose the track of what happened between you two, if it wasn't for that, you'll probably grab Natasha to a kiss, her strong hands bring you to her lap, then they go to your butt, squeezing, dipping her nails on it.

"Did you listen to anything that I said?" You both are in front of the fancy restaurant, Red Room, you never went there before, it makes you worried a bit. "Don't worry, my parents will pay".

... (e.)

You're walking alone, if it weren't for you not paying attention to the road on the way with Natasha, you'd probably know where you were going. The dinner was a disaster, Natasha's family and Kate probably think you're crazy or have a mental ill, it's cold and you don't have any idea of what neibourhood is it.

You're feeling terrible, the look in Natasha's face when you look for a confirmation about her mom and dad already knowing about you two made you feel really sad, the whole purpose of having that dinner was to make you both get back together. Thinking and thinking about it, you're more lost than before.

"Hi, cute thing. Are you lost?" A man in a circle formed by five men, asked you. "We can help you?"

"All of us" The other man says, he has a cigarette between his lips, his nails are filthy.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you". You press your arms onto your body.

"Oh don't be like that" The first guy comes to you, his hands touching your skin. "You're so cold. We can warm you up, baby".

"I said no, thanks" You pushed him.

"What a courageous whore, aren't you?" His hands try to grab your face.

"There you are!" You never loved to see Natasha on this night so much than you do now. "I told you to wait that I'd give you a ride. Oh, good evening, gentlemen" Knowing the blonde really well, she's just being polite, but deep down, Natasha wants to kill every men in that street, especially the one who touched you.

"Why don't you join us?" The man ask. You run from his grasp and entered the car.

"No, thanks. We're late to meet our friends. Maybe another day. Good night".

You're freezing and Natasha notices, so she closes the windows and puts her jacket over your shoulders, you grab the fabric staring at your feet. The silent is stranger, but at the same time it is not.

Starting to think about everything that happened, if it wasn't for Natasha you'll probably dead or worse, raped in some alley. You wanted to say 'thank you', but you're too afraid and confuse to do it. The car has stopped at your dorm building.

"Are you okay?" You nod. "Look, about the dinner, I'm-" But what Natasha was going to say has become unknown, your lips on hers, hand on her face while the other one unfastens your seat belt. Tasting her lips after days makes you really happy, you feel the arms circling your waist, trying to bring you close. Your nails scratch the side of her neck, red marks glissining, Natasha push her tongue into your mouth, you releasing her from the seat belt before climbing on her lap. The feeling of having her tongue trapping yours made you moan, wanting more. You can feel the thightness on her pants, she's wearing a strap. God, she is. You push her, hair and lipstick all messy, she is a mount of huff and puffs. "You didn't let me finish".

"I love you too" Your hands captured her face, her beautiful and pierced green eyes are shining, but there's no tears. "I'm sorry for everything, Nat".

"I'm sorry too" She rests her forehead on yours. "I don't want to be apart from you, ever. It sucks had to look at you and not able to talk or touch" Her hands stroke your hair to the back, on your ears. "I want you to be mine".

"Then make me yours" Her eyes are all black, there is no hint of green on them, you pass to the backseat, Natasha does the same. You take off her blazer, hands all sloppy on the white shirt, pop up the buttons, then throw it anywhere. You kiss her jaw line, chin, bite the skin while she smiles at you, going down to her neck, sucking, marking her, your on way to make Natasha yours. Hands unbuckling her pants, strap bulge against your needy cunt. "Nat, kiss me" you don't have to say twice, she kisses you, it's more urgent, breathless, her hands pulling your dress to your waist, the top following it.

"Your breasts are amazing". She grabbed them, pulling together, thumbs circling your nipples, getting hard. Natasha's eyes are shining in adoration, she could watch you forever.

"Nat, just fuck me" You pull her close, tongue licking her upper lip really slow, the action made Natasha moan, desperately taking her pants off and throwing with the shirt. After unbuckling her bra, your fingertips touch every tattoo that the blond hair has in her shoulders, torso, her pierced nipple getting hard while you slightly pinch them.

"Alright, detka" Pulling your panties off your body, she slightly rubs your clit, feeling your wet pussy and then positioned the strap on your entrance, slowly pushing through your folders, her hands resting on your waist.

"Slow..." You softly pushed by her waist bone, it hurts a little, it's been a while since you used the strap, your legs trapping her waist, high heels landed on her ass, throwing your head back while her lips sucks your right nipple. "Nat... Oh f-fuck!" Your nails dig into the back of her head, grabbing the short blonde hair, while hers on your waist. It hurts like hell.

"God, I'd give anything to feeling you tight around me" You bring her to a kiss, her strap starting to hit your soft spot. "I love you. Fuck!" Her thrusts make the car shakes, you bite your lips. "Don't worry, detka. Let me hear your moans, please".

And you do, it's enough to improve her movements, her face in the crook of your neck.

"You're so perfect" Her teeth bite the skin there, she snifs your scent then licks your neck, marking, thumb rubbing your needy bud. "I'm making you mine. All mine. Just mine" Natasha starts to curse in russian, that turned you on even more, you need to learn it, anything to know what's she's saying. Holding her face in your hands, you kiss her again, slow and passionately. Her thumb moving on your clit, nails scratching her shoulders to her lower back, hips moving on her hand, Natasha look down on her cock, your cunt beautifully taking it, she growls on your ear. "You should see this, pretty girl. The way your pussy is taking me". It drives you to insanity.

"Nat... I'm gonna... Fuck" You bite her shoulder, coming down in a painfull and wet way, teeth dipping into her arm, nails in her forearm.

"Hold it, just a bit. I'm coming too" Her thrusts are sloppy, the strap coming off your folders, you need to help her, so your thumb touch her needy clit. "Shit!" It's everything that she can think now.

You came together, her mouth against yours, sharing a messy kiss. Her hips stopping gradually, forehead on your shoulder.

"You were perfect, malyshka" You're breathless, sweating, your hair is a mess.

"Nat, I need to help you. You didn't cum" Natasha sweet smile at you, thankful.

"You don't have to, detka" She kisses your cheek. "I'm alright, don't worry".

"Nat... I'm hungry" You didn't eat anything at the dinner and you're always hungry after sex, Natasha remember all the time to leave some snacks for both of you on her headboard.

"I know, detka. Let me just get myself together".

You both put back your clothes, sharing affectionate smiles, but you wear her jacket now, Natasha smile at you, really happy when your eyes meet the cheeseburger and milkshake in front of you.

"So good".

"I bet it is, malyshka". Her hands stroke your hair behind your ears.

"Your family hates me" You realize while drink a sip of strawberry milkshake.

"No, they don't. Was my father idea to arrange that dinner and try to makes us be together again" Natasha shyly smiles. "My mom say that the only good ideas he had in his entire life was to marry her and coming to America" She laughs.

"Yelena and Kate? My God, they think I'm crazy". Eyes wide open while you wipe your mouth.

"No they don't, but Kate will definitely win twenty bucks".

"Why?" You ask finishing your burger, Natasha seems ashamed to answer, but she does.

"They bet we'll have sex in Yelena's car" You're shocked, your mouth is a perfect 'o', cheeks all red and hot.

"Make her lose".

"Why?" you slap Natasha's arm.

"Because it's your sister's car, Natasha" Hidding your face between your hands, you whine. "It's so embarrasing".

"Come on, detka... We had sex planty of times in Steve's office and Professor Carter class room".

"Oh God!".

"Exactly, you said that everytime".

"Stop!".

"I'm sorry" She laughs again. God, she missed being like this with you.

"I'm breaking up with you again" you said embarrased.

"No, please. I'll stop". She kisses your cheek. "No more jokes".

"Thanks". You snuggle on her body, yawning.

"Okay, let's take you home" Natasha grabs a few dollar bills in her wallet and put it on the table.

"Can I sleep with you?" You ask, shyly.

"Of course you can, malyshka".

You both go to Natasha's place, her parents gave to her as gift for entering the college, living all alone, she invites you to live there many times, but always dismissed her. It's warm and quiet, she take off her shoes and you do the same, following her like a little duck and she thinks is adorable.

"Do you wanna take a bath?" You denied, her hands on your hips, while yours play with her blonde hair.

"I just want to get some sleep" You hug her, inhale her scent. "I liked your hair".

"It was Yelena's idea, she said that I had to change to have you back" Lips pressed on her collarbone, her skin so soft and warm. "But I liked my red hair though" You squeezed her, hands passing through her blazer. "I'm happy with your approval". They find a place on her small back, your lips still marking her skin. "Malyshka, it's hard to thinking with you doing this".

"It is?" You said it with a playful smile.

"Yeah". Pushing her, you laced your hands together, Natasha look at it with sweet smile.

"I'll stop then".

"Okay, let's change". Natasha bedroom is almost all white, except to the master wall, the one that the headboard of her bed is. It's a very soft pink, you wondered why she picks that color.

"Nat, why this wall is different from the others?" There's no better time to do it then now, at least you think. She look at you in a very softly and calm way, like when a child ask something really cute.

"Because remind me of you" It's simple, but made your cheeks get all red and warm. "When we were so busy during test weeks, tons of homework and I am really stressed cause we can't see each other properly, I remember of you, of your lip gloss" She is the one with red cheeks now. "It's stupid, but helps me relax".

"It's not stupid" You hold her face, pecking her cheek. "It's cute and I like it". She smiles at you, thankful, and then pull you until her closet.

"You left some clothes in here". You know that, but you're going to grab hers, anyways. "I'm gonna take a glass of water. I'll be right back, malyshka".

"Okay" Natasha leaves the room and it's enough for you to sneek around while putting her clothes. You choose another The Marvels t-shirt, taking off your dress in front of the mirror, there's marks everywhere, on your breasts, neck, Natasha's scretchs all over your waist, thank god is sunday, otherwise you'll have to wear make up.

After brushing your teeth, you snuggled into her bed, the pillows smells exactly like her.

"Sorry for taking so long, I had to comeback to Yelena's car. I forgot this" Your cheeks are red, crimson even, when you see the strap on her hand. "Are you sleepy?" You nod, she's bringing one glass, put it on the table next to bed. "I'm gonna change and then we'll sleep, okay malyshka?".

"Okay, babe". You said, smiling under the blankets.

"Babe? I can get used to that". She caress your nose with hers.

It took a few minutes until Natasha take off her clothes and brush her teeth, top tank shirt and undies. She comes next to you.

"My clothes, huh?".

"Smells like you" You said timid.

"And now, like you" she kisses your neck, hands on your waist, going down, a little bit more on your thighs, nothing sexual, she just loves to touch you. "I love you, malyshka".

"I love you too, babe" Natasha smiles, you strokes her blonde hair on her ears.

"Can you say it again?" .

"Say what? Babe?" .

"Yeah, but say that you love me".

"I love you... Babe" Smiling, she pulls you close, your face on the crook of her neck.

"Good night, malyshka".

"Good night, babe" Natasha chuckles, squeezing you on her arms.

Natasha Romanoff is a soft dork and you love her with all of your being, that's what you're gonna say to everyone from now on. And you'll never want to miss her again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part eleven —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.6k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: here ya go

A dry mouth and a symphony of aches awaken you.

Ambery light spills through the cracks of the hunting cabin, catching the silvery glint of dust particles in the air. It must be morning or possibly even noon based on how rested you feel. As your eyes peel open, you can see everything better than last night. The cramped space is mostly barren. There are some rusted animal traps in the corner and a faded poster with dancing bears and cheesy lettering: NATURE BE OUT HERE WILDIN'. Blue's head lays upon your shoulder. Gently, you maneuver it off, but her lashes flutter open despite your efforts. 

"Twix?"

"Hey," you whisper. "Everything's okay. You can go back to sleep."

"Can you... get me some water?"

Ghost's backpack is likely off-limits, but you go through it, anyway. Beneath cigarettes and tools you don't even know the name of, you retrieve the canister of water and usher it to her lips. She sips weakly. The blanket covering her falls to her waist, revealing a bare, bandaged leg. Ghost must've taken off her blood and urine-stained jeans. You tuck the insulated blanket back over her and touch her forehead, relieved to feel the skin is cool.

"How are you feeling?" 

She lays back down, wincing. "It hurts. And... and I'm tired."

"That's normal. Your body is working hard to heal. Do you need anything else?"

There is the smallest shake of her head before her slack eyelids lower back down.

Ghost is leaning against the side of the cabin when you slip outside. He must have a tolerance for the cold to have stayed out here all night without his jacket. Only a black thermal hugs his chest, a dried stain at the side where you nursed his wound. His stare instantly finds you, alert yet ringed with faint lines of fatigue.

"She's doing good," you announce quietly. "Still sleeping and no fever. Did you see anything out here?"

Ghost clears his throat before speaking, voice rougher than usual from the hours of disuse. "No." His eyes flicker down to your legs. The jacket, although leagues warmer than your own, falls above your knees, leaving them shuddering against a crisp gust of air.

“Should be dry now," he says, motioning to a nearby tree where your clothes are draped over a branch. He must've put them there because you have no memory of doing so.

"Oh. Thanks."

Begrudgingly, you change behind the cabin, your muscles and joints groaning. Despite the dip in the river, your clothes still bare faint stains of blood and whatever fluid came out of that dead Grey. They don't offer the same physical comfort that his heavy loaner did. You can't say you don't miss it when you hand it back. 

"You should sleep, too."

He shucks it on, eyes glued to the distance. "I'm fine."

“You think there’s more of them, don’t you?”

He takes a moment before answering. "I took out five, then there's the two that attacked you. Big group. They would've left one or two behind to watch their camp."

It's true, and the thought grazes your teeth against the inside of your cheek. Either they will realize something happened to their companions and go looking for you, or they will be wary of the threat and keep to their turf. You aren't too concerned with Ghost here, but if they’re stocked on military-grade gear like he said, then it's better not to let your guard down.

"Look, you won't be able to keep her safe if you pass out from exhaustion. I can stay out here."

Finally, he exhales deeply, his chest moving beneath all the gear. "Wake me up if you see anything."

"I will."

You watch him go before a sudden realization hits you.

"Ghost, wait—"

He halts, eyebrows raising in question. 

"My bow... I think I lost it. In the river."

There is a long pause of thought before he reaches for the handgun at his waist, offering it to you with a firm look.

"Just for now, in case there's anything."

Keeping watch is far from enjoyable. Every little movement makes your fingers curl tighter around the gun. You keep your gaze up and alert while making a small fire to purify some water from the river, drinking until your stomach feels tight. Then, you settle on a tree stump by the cabin and take out the single dried squirrel you brought. But when you bite in, a strange taste floods your mouth. Blood. Cartilage. Human flesh. You spit it out, your stomach expelling more watery vomit. 

"For later, then," you whisper, wiping your mouth.

The plan was never to stay here for more than a night, but with Blue's recovery, you'll have to find more food. It could be three or four days before she’s ready for the long trip back. You ponder how you can make do without the bow, and figure you can use those animal traps. There's also a bush by the cabin that, if Paul's teachings did you any good, appears to be unripened salmonberries.

Hours drone by, each one more tedious than the last. The scent of moisture in the air begins to grow stronger. It's not until dark, swollen clouds roll in from the north that Ghost reemerges from the cabin.

"I didn't see anything, but I think it's going to storm." You gesture to the sky.

The abrupt arrival of sharp lightning and pillaging rain brings both of you back within the shelter. The storm clouds quickly swallow all the light, which leads Ghost to start another fire with the dry wood he has left. You find a few candles dressed in cobwebs and ignite them with your newfound lighter. It's not long before Blue wakes up, likely unable to sleep with all the sounds and the steady leak of water that begins to drip from the ramshackle ceiling. 

Ghost may have brought a lot with him, but he doesn't have anything to patch up a leak, which leads to a small puddle taking up space and pushing the three of you uncomfortably closer. Of course, Blue is the only one lying down. You tuck your knees under your chin while Ghost bends his long legs into a crossed position. He's wide enough that his knee and shoulder brush against you no matter how much you try to inch into the corner.

Though, you secretly can't complain. There seems to be an everlasting heat that radiates off him, even here, as the fire struggles to sustain itself and the rain thrums incessantly. 

He shifts around to fish something out of his backpack. Crackers. 

"Here, kid."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat something."

He has to practically force little bites into her mouth, cradling her head up with his gloved hand. The sight makes your stomach howl, but you refrain from eating the squirrel in case you throw up again. You don't suspect either of them would appreciate that.

Blue goes back to staring dully at the wall after she eats, and Ghost continually peeks out a crack in the boarded-up window. The whole thing is quite miserable, even though, at the very least, you are all alive. The look in her eyes reminds you of how Joseph would get sometimes, and you hate it. 

At some point, you take out the book you found.

"Hey, Blue. I... I found this. Want me to read it to you?"

Her gaze shifts to you. "Oh. What's it called?"

"Um." You glance at the cover, cringing when a male model and corny title stare back at you. That's right. It was the only book in the store for a reason. "Well, maybe not. It doesn't look very good."

"You could tell me a story," she suggests in a murmur. "Ghost isn't any good at that."

You glance at him. He must be listening, but he pretends not to. Rather, he fiddles with the magazine of his rifle: taking it out, counting what's there, putting it back in. 

Under the roar of thunder, you murmur a story to her. That one your mother used to tell you. Then, you move on to memories. The happiest ones you can recall, mostly about your sister. You tell her about the time your parents surprised the two of you with a hampster, and how you argued over who got to name it, only deciding after a fierce battle of rock-paper-scissors in which you won. 

"So what did you name him?"

"Frank."

"Frank," she repeats. A weak smile. "That's a terrible name."

The storm ebbs on for another day. You and Ghost set up a silent routine of taking turns to sleep, though with how he leans against the wall and clutches the rifle with his eyes closed, you wonder if he is even really sleeping. Blue is only awake to eat, drink, and listen to a few stories. You steal peeks at her wound when he redresses it, pleased to see no evidence of infection. 

You finally bring yourself to eat, taking small bites and forcing it down. The pain in your limbs starts to fade, and the cuts on your face and hands are already scabbed over. When the rain clears, you set up the traps. Paul used to have ones like these. It's not long before you've got yourself another squirrel to eat. The salmonberries are terribly sour, but you wolf down a bush's worth.

Two days. You've been here for two days, and no one has snuck in an attack. There hasn't been a trace of rot in the air. You should feel relieved, but something in the way Ghost behaves makes you wary. He keeps looking through his backpack, fiddling with his guns. Perhaps over the past month, you've grown so used to his mood only shifting between hostile and indifferent, that it's easier to pick up on the signs of his unease. 

Before you can decide to question him what's wrong, he confronts you.

"Twix. We need to talk."

He's caught you with berry remnants around your mouth as you sit on the tree stump and finish your meal. You swipe your tongue across your lips, staring up at him. It's sort of awkward, craning your neck as he towers above you.

"What is it?"

"I need to leave."

You inhale sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he takes the rifle off his shoulder, "I've got five bullets for this one. And," he juts a finger to the handgun, "One magazine for this one."

Understanding sinks to the pit of your stomach. He's running low. Of course. Between the people and all the Greys, he must have used up a lot.

"That's not enough to get us back?" You tuck some hair behind your ear.

"If we run into all those fucks like before, then no. I don't feel comfortable with this much."

"So what are you going to do? Go loot their bodies?"

"I already did that," he almost growls, frustrated. "This is what I've got including what they had on 'em."

"Their camp, then. You want to go find it?" When he nods, you glance behind you at the cabin where Blue rests inside. "No. No— I don't like this idea. I have nothing to protect her with while you're gone."

"I'll leave you a gun."

"I'm not good with a gun," you protest, curling your fingers into your palm as you frown. "She can barely walk, and I can't carry her if shit happens."

"Well, I can't get us all back safely if I don't have fucking ammo. You think I want to leave her? I have no choice here."

Everything he's saying makes sense, and yet, you hate it. You just barely protected her the first time he left you alone, the memory of desperately biting that guy's nose off being evidence of that. Admittedly, you don't know what to do once someone gets close. If something were to happen while he was gone, you’re not confident that you could keep her alive again. But he needs this. The trip will be a waste if he doesn’t get this ammo— the risk to all your lives would’ve been for nothing.

"What if—" Your eyes slide shut as you swallow thickly. "Fuck— what if I go get it?"

Immediately, he scoffs. "That makes no sense."

"Your priority is keeping her safe. You stay here and do that."

"You have no bow," he reminds you, roughly shaking his head. "Don't be stupid."

"You said there's likely only one or two people guarding it. I don't have to fight them. I just have to find their place and steal from them, right?"

"Why?" He demands, eyes narrowing from their typical half-lidded state. They sweep over your face, from your forehead to your chin. "Why would you do this? Risk your life?"

It's a fair question, and you realize how ridiculous you must sound even suggesting this idea. Looking at the ground, the first answer comes to you quickly. You value Blue's life more than your own at this point. Like you told Ghost, you don't know why you even bother fighting. She's a kid. A piece of light in this world. He can protect her better than you can, and he needs the ammo to do so. But there are a few other reasons you find yourself willing to do this for him, and those are the ones you decide to share with him. 

"Because like you said, you need the ammo to get us all back safely. Plus," you look back at up him, "They probably have some things I need, too. Like more medicine." It's something you've pondered quite a few times since realizing how healthy and populated their group was. You lucked out in the village. There will never be another opportunity for medicine like this. "But... if I can get your ammo, then you owe me."

A deep breath expands his chest, then he huffs it out. "What would you want?"

You mull it over. "The couch," is the first thing that comes to mind. You imagine having to sleep in a flooded shed, which will undoubtedly happen with this northern weather, and the thought alone makes you miserable. "When we get back, I want to sleep inside on the couch from now on. And a new bow. You can make me one."

He stares at you for a few seconds before shaking his head to himself, grumbling something under his breath. He slings the rifle back over his shoulder, and you think he's ready to rightfully tell you how stupid you are again, but instead, he grits out, "Anything else?"

"A few shirts and your jacket," you breathe out, eyeing the fabric that fits his broad shoulders much better than it did yours. "And..." a flush threatens the base of your neck, "I also want you to teach me how to better defend myself. Once someone grabs me, I panic."

There's something detectable that passes through his eyes, maybe the memory of how helpless he rendered you not so long ago. He looks at the cabin, shaking his head again, before returning his stare down at you. 

"I'm going to tell you exactly how to get this done. You're of no use to me dead, Twix. Get me a backpack full of ammo, and we'll have a deal."

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt. 5

prev. part. first part.

TW: Gun, violence, mentioned rape, gaslighting, medic is shit

It was your last day on sick leave, so you spent it grading papers, cuddling with Winston, and getting distracted by Kyle's messages and his slutty pictures. You were so thankful for Kyle; he never pressed you for what happened with Johnny, just distracted you.

After you send a picture of Winston you heard the bell ringing and rolled your eyes. You knew Kyle never listened when you said not to come over, even though you really needed that time alone right now. Johnny is an artist, even though he didn't admit it, and so was being in a relationship with him. It was like being in a colorful picture, so vibrant. But since you left him, it felt like someone drained out the color; the painting is black and white, no longer golden.

You went to the door, opened it, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Kyle behind the door. She was there, her eyes puffy and red. 

"What do you want?" If she was there to humiliate you, you’re going to throw up. You shortly texted Ky that she was there.

"I wanted to talk to you, I need your help," she sobbed.

Simon always called you one of the nicest people on earth, but right now, it was enough of being nice. "Well, you can ask Johnny for help." You tried to shut your door, but her foot was already between the frame.

"He is the problem."

"What, did he leave you?" you snorted out.

"He threatened to kill me because of the baby." You clearly misheard her. This can't be true, as if you can do anything against Johnny, and as if Johnny would do something against his own teammate.

"Baby?"

"Yes, I'm pregnant, three months." She rubs her nonexistent belly in front of you. Three months? Johnny cheated on you for three months? And a baby? No, this can't be true. Johnny loves babies; he’d never kill a pregnant woman, none of them.

"And he is threatening you?" You asked while slowly trying to pull out your phone again. You knew Si would be here in 4 minutes if you called him.

"Yes, he wants to tell everyone that I raped him, just so I get an abortion." With that, you burst out laughing. This was the worst joke you ever heard. When she wanted you to pull you away from him for real.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid to believe this shit now leave my apartment before I call the police." You already pulled out your phone to dial the number of the police, who are you kidding, dial the number of Simon. Simon and John always explained if something happens to you, call them instead of the police, they solve your problem faster, and that was a gigantic slag-formed problem.

"Bad mistake," she points out a gun to you, calculating. You trained for this situation endless times in school, but it was still different when someone held a gun against you. Would it work to tell her that there are people that love her? Or maybe you should argue with logic.

"When you kill me, they won't forgive you, it's not worth it," you said trying to sound as calm as possible.

"They won't find out," she laughed. God, that woman was batshit crazy.

"Here are cameras," they weren’t recording, but maybe she was stupid enough to believe you.

"They will understand," she said. Maybe she was stupid enough but also crazy enough to not care. There is only the last logical thing you could say to her.

"Then kill me."

"What?" She was surprised at your bluntness, but you knew she couldn’t really kill you, and if Kyle looked at his phone, he would have already been on his way, so you need to get through this for 10 minutes, 10 minutes, and you are safe.

"If you kill me, Johnny will find you, Kyle will break you, Simon will torture you, and John will finish your miserable life, my death isn’t worth this." You slowly walked backward towards the counter, there must be a gun. John put it in there when you first got together. You didn't quite know how to use it, but better than nothing.

"You're right," finally.

"So why don’t we put the gun down and just, you know, talk about it like adults," you suggested, still moving tiny steps backward.

"Stop moving, or I'll kill you," the same words over and over again. She sounded like a broken record recorder. You stopped moving, but this wasn’t enough for her.

"Maybe I should kill your rat, so you listen." Rat? Her gun pointed toward Winston. Fuck, she should better kill you than your baby. You lost complete hope in turning her; she is crazy.

"He is Kyle's dog, not mine. If you kill him, he will be sad." The shake in your voice was evident; tears started to storm out of your eyes; you didn't know what to do anymore.

"Three of four are enough, anyways." Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I can call them; I'll break up with them, just let Winston be safe, okay?"

"Really, you give up your boyfriends for that rat?" She gestured disgusted at your precious baby.

"Yes."

"Okay, call them," you walked to the counter, dialing Simon's number, close enough to the gun. You really hoped they don’t show a sign that they know; they are SAS; they need to understand, right?

"Hello," good, Simon's voice.

"Are the others with you?" You asked, trying not to tremble; she couldn’t find out what you planned.

"Yes, I put them on speaker, luv."

"I'm breaking up with you, with all of you for final this time. John, you're always putting me in danger, Johnny, you're always with her instead of my home, always on deployment with Simon, and you’re carrying all these scary guns with you that make me afraid, and I hate your stupid dog, Kyle." She looked proud and relieved at you, too stupid to realize. But they were smart, right?

"Okay, just give me back my keys to the office, they’re in the cupboard in the kitchen. I don’t want to see you anytime soon, I will pick it up at three tomorrow, bye." She gained heavily, and all you could feel was relief; you looked at the clock; it was 2:57, three minutes, and the gun. God, you loved your smart boys.

"Will you let me go now?" you asked, and she shook her head.

"Just need to make sure that you never go to my boys again, you can understand, right?"

"I'll move abroad if you want, the US, Germany, Italy, call it and I'll be gone." Before she could reply, she heard a loud bang outside, and that was your chance to grab the gun as she turned around, loaded fucking genius John, but not in safety, idiot. And then you shot, closing your eyes. You never did this before; the closest you came was a water gun at the beach; you didn't hit anything major, only her shoulder, but it was enough for her to lose her stance and fall. Seconds after, the boys went in Simon pulled her to the ground like a bulldozer with John. While Kyle and Johnny ran to you.

"Are you okay?" Both men asked, checking you for any injury.

"I don't feel okay."

"We know, love." You wrapped your arms around Johnny and began to sob. You needed him; you missed him and you were so scared. You knew for a fact he didn't cheat on you after that stunt that woman pulled today.

"We'll take care of her; we will be back soon, luv," Simon said with a devious grin while putting his boot on her to press down on her bullet wound.

John and Ghost left with her, and you knew for a fact your shot would be the nicest thing she witnessed in the next few days.

"I shot someone."

"Proud of you, hen."

"Never shoot again, please, babe; you're terrible at it," Kyle joked, but you still felt shitty. He knelt down, hugging Winston tight. "Oh, you've been such a brave and good boy protecting your mama. Let me take you to the park, pup," he said while Winston barked happily. "You two need to talk this out."

"Only we two now, Johnny."

"Aye, only we two."

"Where do we start?"

--------------------

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121 @thychuvaluswife

A/N : so I added the picture of Eliot to make up for the Angst I write 😭

For any who has a light belly (do you say that in english or only in German lol?) the next chapter will be half torture of her and the other half Johnny and Reader <3

[justlemmeadoreyou]

the hot-for-teacher fantasy (ta!harry x student!y/n)**

summary: when y/n discovers her charming, handsome college teaching assistant harry styles is also a porn star, it awakens intense lust and longing. one day, harry calls her for a private study session. she wonders what he'll teach her, oblivious that harry knows everything.

words: 4k+

warnings: flirting, fluff, smut. p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, kissing, dirty talk, creampie.

***

Y/N tried hard not to stare at her extremely good-looking teaching assistant during her Friday college lecture. But Harry Styles was just so hot, with his messy brown curls, bright green eyes, and perfect smile. His tight polo shirt clung to his muscular chest and shoulders. Y/N had to look away before she started imagining what he looked like without his shirt on.

"Girl, you're drooling again," her friend Liz teased in a whisper, nudging her.

Y/N blushed. "No, I'm not!"

Lately, she couldn't stop thinking dirty thoughts about the charming TA. His deep voice and confidence made it impossible for her to focus. There was something really familiar about Harry too, but she couldn't figure out what.

During the break, Harry passed back their graded essays. Y/N's breath caught when he got to her row.

"Nice work on this one," he rumbled, handing her the papers with a crooked grin and letting his fingers brush hers.

"T-thanks," she stammered, flustered by his touch and scent.

After class, Y/N rushed out, head spinning. Harry was just too much for her self-control sometimes. His flirty vibe and hints of his ripped body under his clothes made her imagination go wild.

Later that night, Y/N was scrolling online when she saw a weird tweet from her friend.

"'Who knew our former classmate had such an unexpected second career?'" she read out loud. "What does that mean?"

Curious, she clicked the link...and her jaw dropped. Short video clips played of a VERY naked Harry, putting on an X-rated show! He slowly stroked himself while staring intensely at the camera.

Y/N watched with wide eyes, feeling heated. So THAT'S why Harry seemed so familiar - he was a porn star!

For the next few weeks, Y/N tried to act normal around Harry in class while secretly reeling over his shocking second job. Every time he handed back papers or leaned across her desk, new fantasies popped into her mind of him in those porn videos.

Flashes of Harry's chiseled body and sexy pouts made Y/N shift in her seat, growing wet. She started touching herself at night while rewatching his videos, wishing his large hands were on her instead of himself.

"Hey, everything okay?" Harry asked after catching Y/N spacing out for the third time that lecture. "You seem...distracted."

Y/N snapped out of her daze, cheeks burning. 

"What? Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just a little out of it today."

Harry's brow furrowed, but he let it go and continued his notes. Y/N scolded herself - she needed to be more careful or he'd suspect something!

The semester continued torturously, with Y/N longing for the sweet yet filthy TA. She devoured every new porn clip, imagining his deep groans were because of her. Harry remained perfectly charming and professional, driving Y/N crazy.

***

One evening, he asked Y/N to stay after for help studying. Her heart pounded as they were finally alone together. Harry was dressed casually in a soft t-shirt that clung to his biceps and tight jeans that left little to the imagination.

"So, what did you need help with?" Y/N asked, trying not to stare at the bulge in his crotch.

"Actually..." Harry shut the classroom door and turned to face her with a smirk. "I know what you've been up to."

Y/N paled. "W-what do you mean?"

In one swift move, Harry crowded her against the wall, hands braced on either side of her head.

"I mean, I know you've seen my...other job," he breathed, leaning so close she could smell his sandalwood cologne.  "Judging by how distracted you've been, you must be a fan.I know what you've been up to," Harry said, his voice low. "In fact, I have proof."

Y/N felt her face flush. What could he possibly know? She racked her brain but came up empty.

Harry reached into his bag and pulled out Y/N's notebook from class. He flipped through the pages until he landed on one with "H ❤️" scribbled in the margins.

"This looks an awful lot like the little doodles I've seen pop up in the chat during my streams," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N's heart pounded. He knew about her watching his porn! She opened her mouth to protest, but Harry cut her off by capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

"Wanted to do this for ages," Harry growled between heated kisses down her neck. "Could feel you eye-fucking me every class."

"Harry..." she gasped as he palmed her breast. This had to be a dream!

Y/N instantly melted against him, whimpering into his mouth. They kissed hungrily, all the pent-up tension finally unleashing.  

"You taste so fucking sweet," he groaned against her racing pulse in that smoky, ruined timbre that immediately flooded her core with fresh arousal. "Been driving me mad, pretty girl. Had to have you."

She had spent countless nights alone getting herself off to the fantasy of Harry - the casual acquaintance turned porn star she had established an embarrassingly strong fixation on. In those frenzied moments of pleasure chasing, her imagination had run wild with what it might feel like to have his large hands on her, to experience his undivided intensity and passion in the flesh.

But nothing could've prepared her for the reality. For this soft, reverent side of him she never could've pictured behind that dirty-mouthed and cocky boldness of his videos. Harry was watching her with those mossy green eyes, hooded but shining, his warm gaze flickering over her flushed face like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Y/N traced her fingertips over the sharp jut of his cheekbones, down the carved column of his throat, savouring the tickle of his rough stubble. She wanted to bottle the rich, woodsy scent of his cologne and sweat, to keep this moment perfectly preserved somehow. This exact pocket in time when Harry was focused solely on her, that made her heart swell and thighs quiver.

When she nodded mutely in response to his question, Harry leaned in to capture her lips in a slow, searing kiss. One large palm cradled the back of her skull, tilting her head for the perfect angle to lick into her mouth with slow and soft sweeps of his tongue. The other hand splayed over her ribs, fingertips trailing up to graze the underside of her breast, each pass lighting tiny sparks across her sensitive skin.

A soft keen parted Y/N's lips when Harry finally palmed her fully, the rough pads of his fingers finding her peaked nipple. His mouth instantly set to work soothing her desperate whimpers with deeper, more heated sweeps of his tongue. He continued paying homage to her breasts with laving kisses until she was writhing and panting.

"So pretty," murmured that devastatingly deep rumble. "So fucking soft and perfect for me, love."

Harry punctuated the dark praise with a sharp nip to the upper swell of one breast, soothing away the faint sting with rich swirls of his talented tongue. Y/N's back arched involuntarily, a strangled moan shuddering from her chest as the flare of pleasure echoed all the way to her clenching core which was already throbbing with need.

She grabbed at Harry's broad shoulders, tugging to seek out more delicious friction. But he seemed determined to drag this out as long as possible - their position putting her at his command as he mapped every inch of her squirming form in unhurried exploration.

His talented mouth continued blazing an open-mouthed path down her sternum, across the quivering plane of her belly, all while his callused palms held her hips in a firm, grounding hold. When his lips finally met the juncture of her parted thighs, Y/N let out a garbled keen, head thrashing against the hard floor.

Harry shushed her gently, nuzzling against her damp curls as his huge hands anchored her bucking hips in place.

"I've got you, sweetheart," he rumbled, hot breath ghosting over her sensitized flesh and dragging a desperate whine from her chest. "Be a good girl and let me take care of my pretty girl, okay?"

Y/N's chest felt fit to burst from the tangled storm of arousal, tenderness, and pure longing that seemingly came out of nowhere at Harry's husked promise to "take care of her properly."

She couldn't find the brainpower to formulate any response beyond a punched-out mewl, utterly spellbound already by the wicked promise in Harry's voice. She lay pliant and trembling as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, fully exposing her to the hot sweep of his piercing stare and the first scorching lap of his tongue against her aching slit.

What followed was a hazy, blissed-out oblivion of sensation as Harry set to work devouring her with so much focus. Focus she had only seen on him when he was in deep, grading papers. There were no more teasing licks or tantalizing nibbles - he dove in with determination, sucking at her slick folds and swirling his tongue in swirls around her throbbing bundle of nerves until Y/N was writhing and sobbing out his name like a prayer.

Her fingers twisted in those sweat-soaked chestnut curls, tugging and desperate for an anchor as the exquisite wash of sensation threatened to unravel her completely. Every breathless whine and whimper was duly rewarded with another purposeful flick of Harry's talented tongue, coaxing her higher and higher.

He lapped at her clit, one digit opening her quivering entrance to his assault. He pushed them in, while she arched her back, giving him a deeper angle. Wet noises erupted from between her legs, his two fingers perfectly anchoring inside, swiping against her sweet spot that had her whimpering like a muse.

He fucked his fingers in and out of her, the thick nerves on his arms seeming to be erupting to life. The same hands that she had imagined about, were now inside her cunt, wet and warm with how wet she was.

His other hand joined the slick heat of his mouth, cupping and kneading her bucking hips with possessive surety, it finally pushed her over the blissful edge. Y/N's whole body convulsed as her climax detonated with blinding intensity, keening gasps punched from her chest again and again on each bottomless wave of pleasure.

Through the whiteout ecstasy, she felt her hips being released. Then, powerful arms were scooping her up against Harry's solid chest, enveloping her entirely as aftershock tremors kept rippling through her frame. Her cries were instantly muffled as he kissed her, her taste lingering in their mouths as she drank him in.

"That's my girl," Harry praised, his voice almost low and aching with want. "So fucking gorgeous falling apart on my tongue like that, sweetheart."

Y/N could only whimper helplessly in response and manoeuvred herself closer to his sweat-slicked torso, shuddering at the raspiness of his voice. Large palms stroked soothingly up and down her back as she slowly came back to earth and rejoined gravity.

One calloused thumb caught a stray tear she hadn't even realised fell, swiping it away with tenderness. The gentle gesture finally focused Y/N's senses enough to really look up at Harry - and what she saw stole the breath from her lungs all over again.

His green eyes were molten and hooded, swirling with naked want but also something more profound. Harry gazed down at her with such adoration and protectiveness that another sob rose in her tight throat, heart spasming almost painfully.

"You're so beautiful," he rasped out. One large palm cradled the back of her skull as his lips found her swollen and panting mouth in a deep, searching kiss. "So fucking strong and brilliant and incredible. I've wanted you for so damn long, Y/N. Please let me..."

Y/N couldn't formulate a coherent reply. So instead she silently nodded, her assent between kissing him back with every ounce of frenetic passion burning through her and took Harry's full weight as he rolled them until she was cradled in his lap.

Their kiss turned searing and desperate as Harry skillfully discarded their remaining clothes. Y/N's strangled whimpers and whines were swallowed by his bruising mouth, her slick heat dragging against the hardness of his erection in tortuously light strokes.

Y/N instinctively sought out more of that maddening friction - rocking her hips up to meet Harry's in a desperate grind as she tangled her legs around his trim waist. The low, reverent rumble of approval he let out at her shamelessness made her entire body bloom with heat.

"So eager for me, aren't you love?" he husked against the swollen bow of her parted lips. Not waiting for a response, he sealed his mouth over hers in a lush, filthy kiss that left them both panting for air.

He teased her exactly to that tantalising edge of overwhelming bliss and sheer frustration until she was squirming and mewling into their heated embrace, nails scrabbling at the broad expanse of his sweat-dampened shoulders. At last, Harry tore away from her lips with a ragged groan, panting heavily as they pressed their foreheads together.

She was too far gone to feel self-conscious. The last threads of her self-restraint had snapped the second Harry palmed both cheeks of her ass in those huge, calloused hands and used his grip to pull her flush against the insistent jut of his straining cock.

"Wanted this for so long," he growled against her swollen lips before venturing down to scathe his stubbled jaw along the ultra-sensitive slope of her neck, leaving a stinging trail of fresh goosebumps in his wake. "Laid awake so many nights thinking about having you in my lap just like this..."

Y/N had no capacity to formulate a reply beyond a choked-off moan, hips canting of their own accord to chase that scorching friction. She wanted to whimper out, to beg him to stop teasing them both with this exquisite torment. But he didn't give her a chance, lush mouth finding her peaked nipple and suckling hard, stealing what little coherence she had left.

"Ah! ...H-Harry, please..." she panted out as sparks of both pleasure and sweetest pain lanced through her. She fisted those decadent chestnut curls tighter until he finally released her with a final teasing graze of teeth over her swollen, rosy bud.

He peered up at her with hooded, molten eyes, his pupils blown wide and inky with naked want. His mouth glistened obscenely in the low light. The sight alone nearly cleaved what little rational thought remained.

"Since you asked so sweetly..." he husked, gifting her one more searingly deep kiss before making a trail of open-mouthed licks and nibbles down the center line of her body once more. "My gorgeous girl deserves whatever she desires.Now look at me, love," he ordered, "Need to see those gorgeous eyes when I finally get to be inside my girl."

My girl.

Y/N's whole body locked up with need at his command. Their gazes crashed together in the space separating them - Harry peering down at her, mouth hanging open in blissful agony.

Holding that heated stare, he finally guided the slick blunt head of his cock to her entrance with one broad palm on her hip. They both exhaled harsh breaths in unison as he sank past that initial tight clutch, Harry's brows creasing with reverence while Y/N's mouth fell open on a choked off moan.

"You feel so good, baby, taking my cock like this," he groaned against her neck. "Wanted this pretty pussy for months."

The crude words somehow only turned Y/N on more. She matched Harry's thrusts, overwhelmed by how amazing he felt.

"You feel that, love?" he rumbled in that rasping timbre that immediately stoked the banked embers of her core back to feverish heat. "How fucking desperate you still are for me, even after falling apart so gorgeously?"

Y/N let out a helpless, pitchy noise of agreement muffled feverishly against the solid weight of his shoulder – nodding frantically as he kept up that slick, sinfully light rutting rhythm. Her entire body felt suspended in limbo, torn between too-much and not-enough with each deliberate slide of his cock spreading her wanting folds apart.

"Christ, you should see yourself right now," Harry practically purred in a haze of lust-drunk awe, swiping the pad of his thumb in a teasing circle around her revived, aching bud. When she arched into the contact with a strangled whimper, he let out a rumbling chuckle that reverberated through both their shuddering frames. "An absolute picture...and all for me."

On his final seismic stroke, the thick crown of his erection caught against Y/N's swollen, aching entrance - teasing her to the brink of shattering all over again. She let out a garbled noise that might have been Harry's name or just an incoherent plea, fingernails scrabbling at his back.

"Look at me," he ordered in a low rasp, drawing her hooded gaze up from where their damp bodies joined. Green eyes glittered with undisguised possession when their stares finally met - searing straight through her.

Holding that smoldering eye contact, Harry pressed forward with one inch at a time until Y/N thought she might combust from the sweet stretch and burn. Every shallow exhale punched from her lungs came out a choked whimper, matched by the fevered grunts rumbling from Harry's chest as he bottomed out, again and again.

Y/N's world had narrowed entirely to the joined point of their bodies, her fluttering internal walls struggling to accommodate the exquisite impalement even as fresh arousal flooded her with boneless surrender. She could only cling helplessly to Harry's sweat-slicked shoulders and lose herself in the intoxicating visuals before her - his arm muscles bunching with the strain, those ruddy, plump lips hanging open on ragged gasps.

"Fuck...f-feel so good, baby," he gritted out, words fracturing apart as his hips gave a minute involuntary roll. "Taking me so bloody well..."

A strangled cry escaped Y/N as that tiniest motion lit up every nerve-ending with bliss. Her heels dug into the small of Harry's back in a frantic bid for leverage, for friction, for anything to alleviate this keen edge between agony and rapture. He seemed to read her desperation, dropping his sweat-slicked brow to hers as he found her lips in a sloppy, uncoordinated clash of teeth and questing tongues.

Then he was pulling back in one sinuous torso-roll, finally giving Y/N what she craved as his initial retreat turned into a soul-shaking thrust that punched the air from her lungs anew. Somewhere in the spiraling vortex of sensation, she registered the harsh slam of his hips meeting her own, the strangled cry of gratification Harry loosed against her slack mouth as he set a steadily mounting cadence.

Any hope of finesse or coordination was swiftly abandoned as their shared need mounted inexorably higher. Y/N could only cling on and ride out the tide of Harry's sharp, bouncing strokes - bordering on too much even as every shuddering nerve ending begged for more, more, more...

Before long, his forehead had dropped to brace against her shuddering sternum, the rigid line of his body trembling with restrained power and exertion as his hips jackhammered with unchecked fervor. The slick, fiery noises of their joining felt loud enough to haunt Y/N's every thought from now until the end of time.

She could feel the heated pant of his breaths gusting across her neglected nipples with each punishing grind of their movements coming brutally unhinged. Every snap of his hips shoved impossibly deeper until she was seeing stars behind her screwed-shut lids, a high-pitched whine escaping with each narrow thrust mounting her up the cliff's edge.

Heat and tension built upon itself in a dizzying spiral, a thousand tingling points of rapture spiraling from Y/N's core until her entire being felt engulfed in the storm. Harry's large hand found her sweat-dampened nape and tangled in her hair, drawing her into a searing, wild kiss that only stoked things higher.

The groan he leaked into her mouth was utterly guttural and wrecked as she matched his hectic rhythm – nails dragging down the broad expanse of his quivering shoulders until her next orgasm suddenly crested with blinding force.

This time, there was no oblivion or sweet black voids of unknowing as Y/N came apart. Instead, she remained tethered to the blazing intensity coursing through every fiber, Harry's name escaping on a cracked litany as her release seemed to go on and on in pulsing waves. He swallowed each choked syllable, hips drilling her through the roaring tide until she arched clean off the desktop entirely.

Harry's broken cry of her name might have been reverent, might have been full of desperate adulation as he finally let go – thick spurts of wet heat joining the mess between their bodies as his tempo turned erratic and punishing. Y/N could only hang on with what little quavering strength remained,  drifting in the bliss of euphoria.

Eventually, the high tides ebbed and they collapsed in a sweaty, ruined heap upon the desk's surface. Both of their chests heaved like they'd run a marathon, senses struggling to reboot as little aftershocks kept shuddering through their temporarily departed forms.

Incrementally, Y/N floated back into her body and surroundings – the achingly pleasant stretch and ticklish trickle of Harry's slowly softening length, the damp cling of their overheated skin, the stark scent of sweat and sex and desperation sated. She cracked heavy lids, momentarily stunned all over again at the debauched vision of the handsome man draped over and still sheathed inside her.

Harry's summer green gaze was already waiting, twin pools of blown pupils shining through a heavy-lidded swath of mussed chestnut curls. Enraptured affection and lust battled for prominence as he stared down at her, sucking in air like a drowned man breaching the surface. When she met his eyes, he opened his mouth only to release a choked exhalation – clearly as adrift in the tide of their passion as she was.

Y/N lifted one shaky hand to paw clumsily at the damp curls framing his face, caressing his flushed cheek in what she hoped came across as reassurance. Her other arm snaked around Harry's shoulders, anchoring him to her as he nuzzled into the gesture with a shuddering sigh.

This time when he found her mouth, the kiss was slow and deep and almost unbearably tender. Their heartbeats gradually realigned as they savored the languid exchange, prolonging the hazy afterglow for as long as possible.

Harry finally pulled back to mouth a reverent path along the curve of her jaw, words rasping low and ardent against the hammer of her pulse.

"You're so incredible, love," he murmured like a hallowed oath. Full of naked adoration and something deeper that made Y/N's newly reawakened heart clench and squeeze impossibly tighter. "Knew you would be...but god, you fucking ruined me just now."

His raspy chuckle carried an undercurrent of disbelief and familiar self-deprecation. Kiss-swollen lips trailed along the sloped curve of her neck and shoulder as he continued pouring out those hushed, awed confessions.

"Don't think I'll ever look at this bloody classroom the same way again...not after feeling you come apart around me so beautifully..."

After, they lay panting on the classroom floor, limbs tangled together. Y/N traced the bird tattoos on Harry's abdomen, unable to believe this had happened.

"If I had known this is what you wanted, I would've bent you over my desk ages ago," Harry laughed, still looking deliciously rumpled and debauched.

Whatever came next, whatever questions arose about the status of their relationship or the unorthodox circumstances that had brought them here, for now Y/N was content to simply bask in the warmth and connection she felt . Her wondering heart could wait until the morning.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[kisseobie]

hey >_< erm... tutor!jongseob being frustrated at u and bending u over the desk, bullying his fingers into ur busy while he asks u questions WHO SAID THAT

(can i be 🍸 anon ╥﹏╥)

ohhh anon ur soooo right.. i’ve always thought about reader tutoring jongseob but the roles being reversed is also very… 😵‍💫

he’s wearing his sexy ass glasses.. your professor assigning him to be your tutor which he only agreed to because of the extra credit!! it’s definitely not because he notices you every class and daydreams about spreading your cunt open instead of paying attention to the boring lectures!!!

you two would start off tutoring sessions in the school library, but he argues that it’s harder for you to focus in there so you must start coming to his dorm instead!! he knows what he’s talking about, he’s the tutor of course.. he definitely didn’t lure you to his dorm for any ulterior motives.. definitely not that..

he’d be sooo into the sessions too, using his matter-of-fact voice when explaining certain concepts to you. the mansplaining gets on your nerves but he’s the smartest in your class, and you really need to improve your grade (plus he’s sexy, you aren’t blind).. if you can’t answer a question, despite him explaining it to you mere minutes beforehand, he’d definitely roll his eyes and scoff. if it was anyone else you’d call them a pompous ass, but he’s just so yummy with his brows furrowed 😵‍💫😵‍💫 his cocky attitude and annoyance with your forgetfulness eventually makes you crave for him to put you in your place :(

you’d probably start rubbing your pretty thighs together too, which does nothing to satiate the leaking of your cunt at the way he talks to you like you’re stupid :,( he most definitely takes notice but says nothing.. thinks he’s misreading your actions due to his self-proclaimed “delusion”, but when you get the next of his questions wrong with a dopey grin on your face, he can’t resist himself anymore ☹️ huffs and grabs your cheek roughly, humiliates you for being so fucking dumb, telling you that you need to be taught the hard way 😵‍💫

a few minutes later you’re bent over jongseob’s work desk, panties and skirt pulled down to your ankles. the desk is now empty, save for his macbook that’s propped up right in front of you, the red record button blinking at your disheveled appearance as it tapes this new approach to your tutoring session.. seob would smirk at the camera while furiously pumping two digits into your pussy, one arm wrapped around your neck in a headlock to prop you up so you’d be visible to his camera 🤤

you’re mewling and keening like a bitch in heat, pushing your ass back to meet the thrust of his fingers, losing yourself in the feeling. jongseob would be so mean too :( would tell you that you’re still studying, that you need to answer his questions perfectly or he’ll drop your future tutoring sessions ☹️ you don’t even know how to respond to his questions about the forgotten material when he’s abusing your cunny, but you try your best to focus anyways.. if you pause for too long, he’d smack your ass as punishment while telling you to “hurry the fuck up, bitch”

and when he finally fucks you? it’s so nasty 😵‍💫 he’d be spitting in your mouth, manhandling you like you weigh nothing, fucking you into his mattress as if there’s no tomorrow :3 everytime you leave a study session, your brain is foggy, limbs sore, and most importantly, jongseob’s cum drips between your thighs <3

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part9. last time you wore that dress, it caused us some problems

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: Vi introduced you to her friends, you`ve spend a great evening and now you want to fulfill that promise you made.

・❥・ genre: smut + grumpy x sunshine

・❥・ word count: 3.4k

✎ warnings: 18+, SMUT, dom!vi, rough sex, fingering, strap-on, swearing, alcohol.

MINORS DNI!

RIDE ON ME masterlist

“cupcake?” - Vi called out to you while you were in the shower. “can you come to the kitchen when you're done?”

“give me a few minutes, please,” - you shouted back.

this morning, you woke up feeling a bit anxious. between work, studies, and your relationship, you barely had any time left for rest or for yourself. you couldn't even remember the last time you just lazed on the couch in silence or cooked in the kitchen. plus, today was exam day. you'd been studying all weekend, even your friends came over to study with you. passing the exams meant one thing - holidays. the very thought of it made you breathe a sigh of relief. that's why getting a high grade meant so much to you.

dressed in your robe and slippers, you made your way to the kitchen where Vi was making breakfast for the two of you, for which you were incredibly grateful, as you’d probably forget to eat without her. watching your girlfriend as she cooked, you smiled warmly. "I’m so lucky," - you thought.

“oh, cupcake! good morning, how are you feeling about the exam?” - Vi asked while the food sizzled deliciously in the pan.

“I'm alright, I think. I’m nervous, of course, but I can't fit any more information into my brain. whatever happens, happens today,” - you said, feeling overwhelmed by all the material you'd studied over the past few days.

“no matter what, I’m proud of you. you're so smart and hardworking, you've come such a long way this semester, and I have no doubt in you,” - Vi's words brought you comfort. it was nice to hear such encouragement from someone so important to you.

you hugged her from behind and murmured, - “you know you're the best in the world, right?” - burying your nose in her hair. Vi chuckled softly.

you stood there like that for a few minutes, not wanting to let go, but you had to leave in 20 minutes, and you were still in your robe. so, after kissing your girlfriend's amazing pink hair, you went to get ready. you put on your usual university outfit, tied your hair up in a bun, and came back out of the room.

while you were having breakfast with Vi, she mentioned that an old friend of hers was coming to town to celebrate their birthday, so she planned to go out.

“that sounds great, I’m glad you’ll be seeing your friends,” - you said as you finished your meal and started clearing your dishes.

“I was thinking, maybe you'd like to come with me? I'd love to introduce you to my friends,” - Vi said, taking your hand. “unless, of course, you’re planning to celebrate the end of the semester with your own friends.”

"meeting her friends is a big step, and if they are coming from another city just to see the group on their birthday, they must be really close," - you thought.

“of course,” - you said, squeezing her hand tighter. “honestly, we haven’t planned anything with my classmates. we're so exhausted that no one even mentioned celebrating.”

“maybe that’s a good thing, because that means you'll be all mine tonight,” - she said, kissing your forehead and helping you clean up. after that, you said goodbye to Vi and left the apartment.

two hours later, the university was buzzing with chatter. after a long wait for the results, you were finally gathered in the auditorium and congratulated on completing the semester. the dean's speech was short but meaningful, he announced that he was proud of his students because everyone had passed. you and your classmates exchanged satisfied glances. the results would arrive in a week via email, but the most important thing was that you passed. you were so proud of yourself.

at the entrance of the university, you and your friends were enthusiastically discussing plans for the holidays, but the main thing you all agreed on was that you needed to celebrate. since everyone was tired and overwhelmed from the day, you decided to meet up tomorrow. your conversation was interrupted by your phone ringing - it was Vi calling. your face must have changed because all your friends started laughing, saying, - “ooooh, look who’s in love!”

“shut up,” - you laughed in response.

"hey, Vi," - you said calmly into the phone.

"cupcake, I can't take it anymore, tell me," - she said, sounding anxious on the other end.

"I passed!!!"

"yes! I'm not even surprised, I never expected anything less. I'm so proud of you."

"thanks, Vi, I..." - you stopped yourself. "thank you for your support. I'll be home soon, bye," - you said, hanging up and taking a deep breath.

“trouble in paradise?” - one of your friends asked.

“no, it's just... I don't know how to...” - you started mumbling to yourself while your friends watched you in confusion. “how to tell her that I love her?” - their faces lit up with smiles as they hugged you tightly.

back at home, you started getting ready. Vi showed you the gift she’d picked out, and after approving it, you went to your room to get dressed.

“absolutely not,” - Vi said firmly.

“what? why?" - you asked, surprised.

“last time you wore that dress, it caused us some problems, I’d like to remind you,” - Vi said, glancing at the dress and clearly recalling what happened between the two of you last time.

“I’d say it worked to our advantage. just look where we are now,” - you laughed.

Vi rolled her eyes. “okay, sorry, I have no right to tell you what to wear. honestly, I’m just a little nervous.”

“nervous?” - you asked, not understanding what she meant.

“yeah, it’s silly, but... you're stunning, and I know that in that outfit, everyone’s going to be looking at you,” - she said, lowering her eyes.

you walked over to Vi and hugged her. “you don’t need to worry about that, I only need you,” - you said.

she hugged you tighter. “sorry.”

you just smiled. “thank you for sharing that with me.” you kissed Vi on the lips.

“just promise no more jokes about dancing without panties. I can’t handle that again,” - you laughed, covering your face with your hands as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

“I promise, from now on, only you get to take them off,” - you said, biting your lip and giving Vi a playful look.

“cupcake, don't do that, we'll be late,” - Vi said as she closed the distance between you, running her hands through your hair.

you sat up on the kitchen counter behind you and spread your legs. “what exactly should I not do?” - you asked teasingly.

Vi looked at you, then moved as close as she could. she ran her hands up your legs to the spot that the dress barely covered. in response, you wrapped your legs around her and leaned back slightly.

“is it just me, or does this dress have a strange effect on you?” - Vi said, slowly taking in the sight of your body. “maybe I should take it off you so you'll behave,” - she teased.

“try me,” - you said playfully, running your fingers over her lips, slightly parting them. Vi licked your finger, causing you to let out a soft moan. she pulled you closer by the waist and almost kissed you but suddenly said, - “I don’t want to ruin your makeup.”

she lowered herself to the level of your underwear, and the sight of her there made you even more excited, every part of your body begging for her touch. she brought your hips closer to her face and gently ran her tongue over your panties.

“Vi...” - you said as you tangled your hand in her hair, but she moved it away and stood back up, smiling at you.

“why did you stop?” - you asked, slightly frustrated.

“I was just checking to see if you had any underwear on. we can go now,” - Vi said, laughing and teasing you.

“I hate you,” - you said, jumping off the counter and heading for the door.

“I think it’s the opposite,” - Vi said, her eyes never leaving you as you walked away.

at the club, you finally met her friends. for some reason, they were just as you had imagined them: all different, yet somehow the same. Vi introduced you to them, and it seemed like she took extra pride in mentioning that you were her girlfriend. each of them gave you a warm smile and introduced themselves in return. finally, you and Vi greeted the birthday person, and everyone handed over their gifts. they were genuinely happy, thanked everyone for coming, and even welcomed you as the newest member of their crew. it felt good to be seen as more than just Vi's plus-one.

a few cocktails later, you were all on the dance floor. the music was great, your girlfriend was by your side, and you felt truly happy. her appearance was irresistibly attractive to you, and you were using all the willpower you had not to drag her to the bathroom with you. Vi probably understood this too, as her light touches on your body and gentle kisses on your neck kept your excitement simmering.

when you both returned to the table, you ordered one last round of cocktails. "good, because I'm already having too much fun," - you thought to yourself.

Vi’s hand rested on your leg under the table, and as the conversation went on, you felt it start to move higher up the inside of your thigh. your legs instinctively began to close, but Vi's hand didn't let that happen. just as her fingers got close to your panties, the birthday person suddenly said, - “thank you all for coming.” Vi quickly withdrew her hand, and you shot her an angry look, to which she barely managed to hold back a laugh and winked at you.

the way home was... tipsy. it seemed like Vi had good self-control, but you were in a good mood and feeling very turned on. this was the second time tonight that Vi had teased you, so you decided that once you got home, you would come up with a way to get back at her.

when you entered the apartment, you bent over in front of her to take off your shoes in a way that was anything but subtle. Vi's gaze fixed on your butt.

“can you help me with the zipper?” - you asked, your tone innocent. at first, Vi didn't even realize you were talking to her, but she slowly unzipped the back of your dress, her eyes trailing down your bare back, stopping when she saw your red lingerie peeking out.

you felt Vi's fingers tracing down your spine. “you think I don't know what you're doing?” - she asked, her voice low. you leaned forward slightly, steadying yourself with a hand on the wall, and she let out a small growl.

“and what about you? those touches under the table?” - you teased, feeling her hands on your hips, pulling you back against her. she lifted your dress, caressing your thighs, her gaze devouring the sight of you in that lingerie.

“I've never seen you in this position before. you never cease to amaze me, cupcake,” - she murmured as she slid her hand between your legs, into your panties. “so wet already, is this all for me?”

you could only moan in response as she began to massage your clit, your back arching more and more in front of her.

“Vi, please, take me,” - you begged, desperation in your voice.

“I thought you liked it when I teased you,” - she said with a smirk.

“I do, but... I can't take it anymore, I need you. please,” - you whispered, your desire almost overwhelming.

in one quick move, Vi turned you around and pinned you against the wall. “I think I've seen this scene before. i guess one hand was on your hip, and the other...”. she lightly wrapped her hand around your neck, and you let out a moan. “good to know you still enjoy this,” - she added with a grin.

“so much,” - you said, tilting your head back as you wrapped one leg around her, which she held tightly, pressing herself even closer to you. “do you think you can finish what you didn't that night?” - you whispered.

Vi's grip on your neck tightened slightly as she caressed your leg. “tell me exactly how you want it, cupcake,” - she said in that low, intoxicating voice.

“you're really going to make me say it out loud?” - you gave her a pleading look.

“yes, I love hearing you talk about what you want,” - Vi replied with a mischievous smile.

“fine, I want you to take me rougher, I want to scream your name, and I want...” - you bit your lip, - “I want to fulfill that promise I made.”

suddenly, Vi's hold on you grew stronger, and she bit down on your neck, making you cry out in pleasure.

“my girl loves it when I use my force, huh?”

releasing her hold slightly, she lifted you by your hips and kissed you passionately as you wrapped your legs around her. Vi carried you to the bedroom and threw you onto the bed. you barely noticed when your dress ended up in the far corner of the room. discarding her own clothes, Vi leaned down to you and said, - “get on your knees, cupcake.”

the moment Vi's words reached your ears, your stomach tightened even more. obediently, you did as she told you. without warning, Vi pulled your panties to the side and sucked on your clit. you moaned so loudly that your head started to spin. you could feel her tongue and lips devouring you hungrily, and you moaned even louder when you felt her tongue slip inside you.

pulling away from you for a moment, she said, - “cupcake, you need to be quieter. we don't want everyone to hear how dirty you are, do we?” - you nodded in response. “good, but if you're too loud, I'll have to do something about it,” - her voice sent shivers through your entire body, making it harder to stay on your knees.

Vi's tongue licked your wetness again, and she quickly thrust two fingers inside you, making you bite down on your hand to stop from screaming.

“that's it, good girl,” - her words were melting your entire being.

Vi's fingers started pumping harder into you. “you like it when I fuck you with my fingers, don’t you?” - you moaned and nodded in response.

“in order to fulfill that promise of yours, I need to get you ready. how does that feel?” - Vi said as she stretched you from the inside with her fingers, making you collapse onto your elbows.

“oh God, yes, I love it, Vi,” - you moaned louder. the obscene sounds coming from between your legs were shameless, but you loved how she made you lose control. her fingers began to move faster again, and you cried out.

“yes, Vi, please, I'm ready,” - you begged for more.

“you, cupcake, are such a dirty little thing, you know that?” - she withdrew her fingers and gave you another lick, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

behind you, you heard Vi open a box and take out her strap-on. as she put it on, she came up and pressed the tip against your entrance. your hips bucked in response, begging her to fill you.

“I want you to tap twice on the bed if it gets too much, okay, cupcake?”

lost in pleasure, you blurted out something that made Vi growl, - “afraid you won't be able to handle it?”

“that was a very, very bad idea,” - she said, and with those words, she thrust into you. your scream echoed through the room, as the sensation of being stretched and filled overwhelmed you, making your vision go dark from the intensity.

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” - Vi said, and suddenly your butt stung from a sharp slap, making you cry out. “there you go again. now I'll have to take measures, won't I?” - you nodded in response.

Vi's hand grabbed your hair and pulled you back up onto your hands, drawing a hoarse moan from your lips. she clamped her hand over your mouth and whispered in your ear, “ready to take the other half?” "THE OTHER HALF?!"

with one swift motion, Vi buried the rest of the strap-on deep inside you, making your ears ring and your eyes fill with tears.

“you said something about me not handling it - what about you?” - Vi's eyes flicked to your hand, checking if you'd tapped out, but you hadn't.

“good girl,” - she praised, squeezing your thigh tighter and starting to drive you onto her strap-on. your mind couldn't keep up with the intensity, you were breathless, but it felt so good. your whole body responded to every thrust, and the wet sounds coming from you were so filthy that you couldn't believe it was happening. after a few strokes, you began to match her rhythm, and Vi's smile grew even wider. her movements became faster and harder, slamming into your body so forcefully that your knees gave out beneath you. if she hadn't been holding you in her firm grip, you'd have collapsed by now. you kept moaning into her hand, clutching the sheets with your fist, but you didn't tap out. you loved it. you wanted more.

after a moment, you felt Vi pull the strap-on out of you and release her hold, causing you to collapse onto the bed, moaning.

“lie on your back. I want to see your pretty face,” - she ordered. you did as she said, spreading your legs like an obedient girl. Vi's smile grew wide at your compliance. “just look at her. tears on her cheeks, barely holding on, but still begging for more.”

Vi lifted your legs and draped them over her shoulders, thrusting back inside you in one smooth motion, making you scream.

“no, no, no. how many times do I have to tell you?” - she dropped your legs and covered you with her body, driving the strap-on even deeper, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. once again, she covered your mouth with her hand and began thrusting into you with force, holding onto the bed for leverage. each thrust felt like a wave of intense bliss, tears streaming down your face, yet you kept moving your hips, pushing yourself harder onto her. when Vi's pace quickened, you felt the overwhelming sensation that you were about to come. catching your eyes, she understood immediately, and when she pressed her finger against your clit, you started to whimper from the pleasure. your back arched, and stars danced in your vision as your body shook with the force of your orgasm.

slowly, Vi removed her hand from your mouth, still staying inside you. “if only you could see yourself right now, cupcake.” after a few seconds of looking into your eyes, she pulled out the strap-on, leaving you feeling empty inside. tossing it aside, Vi leaned down to you and gently wiped away the tears from your cheek. you were still catching your breath, your head still buzzing slightly.

you spent a few minutes in her arms, and when you finally managed to speak, you whispered, - “I've never felt this kind of pleasure with anyone but you.” Vi kissed you tenderly, - “the feeling is mutual, cupcake.”

[tsukuhoe]

03: walked in and dream-came-trued

special grade management’s headquarters was… big. thankfully, you had utahime tag along to your meeting as she happened to have a meeting with the actors of her new film. “y/n, i’ll be in the room down the hall. feel free to call me when your meeting ends.” she directed you to your meeting room, then left for hers.

you knocked on the door twice before it swung open. there stood a man in a suit with black hair. “i take that you must be y/n l/n— have a seat. i’m shiu, a scout for special grade management.” he pulls a chair out for you, then offers you a cup of coffee. “it’s a double shot of espresso with a splash of steamed milk.”

“thank you, shiu. before we proceed, i’d like to inform you that i am not interested in signing a label as of now—”

“then how ‘bout we make a deal?”

“a deal…?”

“yes, a deal. due to your popularity and current status on the charts, we’d like to have you affiliated with our management. however, since you’re uninterested in signing any record label, we’d like you featured in a production by us.”

“... what will i get in return? i’ve never been driven by the pursuit of wealth or recognition. money and fame are fleeting; my focus is on something much deeper and more lasting." you say, voice steady but firm. he let out a small chuckle, taken back by the question. he didn’t take you to be such a businesswoman.

“let’s see… how about gaining free access to film studios and the equipment without being signed to any labels? open to you whenever you want, whenever you need.”

shiu studies you for a moment, your expression unreadable. you set your coffee cup down and tap your fingers lightly on the table, weighing your options. finally, you speak again, your tone softer but no less firm.

"i’m willing to consider the deal,” you started. the deal sounds great but then you thought of your producer, choso. choso would love to work with new equipment and in a more professional workspace than his small walk-in closet. “...however, the terms need to be adjusted. i’d like access not only to the film room but also the music production rooms and their equipment— the ones with the big sound booths.”

shiu nods, not surprised. this is the kind of fine-tuning these deals require. he leans forward, his hands steepled, and offers a slight smile. "we can work that out." shaking your hand. “now let’s head and meet the others for this film— i’m sure you’ll enjoy being on set as your friend, utahime’s directing it.”

“y/n, what are you doing here?!” utahime gawks, her script slipping from her fingers. “suprise! so i’m now a part of your film…!” you giggled at her reaction. “what’s it about?”

“we’re rebooting the first scream movie with new actors— tatum’s actor wasn’t listed in the given script so i’m assuming you’ll be playing her?”

“ding ding ding! y/n will be playing tatum riley in this movie! due to tatum’s personality that was enjoyable to the audience, many fans will be satisfied with a pop sensation like her playing the role.” shiu smiled, putting his hand on your shoulder. “not to mention, our star actors toji and gojo— playing the two ghost faces will have the fans squealing!”

“so you did all the casting calls without my knowledge?” utahime hissed, clearly annoyed at the man in suit. a white-haired man approached you three before shiu could say anything. “utahimeee! what’s taking so loongg— wait! you’re y/n l/n, right? the y/n l/n who made the recent hit, espresso?” he grinned, looking at you. his face was flushed. a mixture of nerves and excitement shining in his wide eyes. you blinked, momentarily stunned— satoru gojo knows you?

“hi! yes, that’s me.”

“and you’re working with us, sweets? neat!”

while you, utahime, and gojo chatted, shiu made his way to the corner of the room. there sat a man sitting relaxed with his arm draped over the chair’s armrest.

“toji. how’s it going?”

“man why’d you have to bring a rando on set,” he scoffed, clearly displeased to see a new face on set happily chirping with his co-workers.

“you’ll enjoy her company. just wait.”

album bonus tracks: — i love scream sm! — some of the charas (kei, ayame, minako) r js made up names btw — story's going to be a bit slow until it gets good (esp on toji's part)

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[kinokkotsu]

“Don’t js sit there and wait 4 me to talk,”ᶻz ⟢— yuta okkotsu x reader

TW: the reader is severely traumatized, the reader lost her loved ones during shibuya incident, HEAVY angst, love confession, fluff, THE AFTERMATHS OF JJK MANGA ENDING, MANGA SPOILERS!! Yuta has lost it too btw ୨୧

“Aren’t you tired?” You looked up from your hot dinner. “You had just returned from eliminating a special grade.”

The dining table was piled with various kinds of foods. The room reeked of unrequited love and affection. It almost made you want to melt into the ground out of shame.

“Tired? This is just a simple dinner. You deserve it. So sit back, relax and enjoy your evening,” Okkotsu gave you a gentle smile. He was sitting in his chair so elegantly. As if he was a doll for display.

You lazily swung your fork around the small chop of meat on your plate. It was regarded as impolite to play with your food at the table yet you could not help it. Whatever act he was putting up was rather exaggerated and nerve wrecking.

“I think I remember telling you to stay away from my house,” you muttered. Your voice came out like a whisper. You did not dare to look at him but you could sense his gaze burning down on your face.

He breathed out a laugh. “Did you?”

“I sure did.” You put the fork in your mouth. “I am no longer a part of the jujutsu society anymore. Why do you still insisting on clinging onto me?”

“Forgive me then,” He replied. He poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down. He had just dodged your question. Great.

It hadn’t been long since your partner, who you had been in a committed relationship, died during whatever that was. Ever since the disasters occurred within jujutsu society. You would never believe you could easily love somebody as easily again. You suppose you do not genuinely had the strength to.

You glanced at his abdomen. Behind the linen cloth of his shirt laid a dark giant horizontal scar that once made him almost lose his life. It’s only pure luck that had saved him from entering the death’s door.

“I once thought it is appropriate to only admire you— a undeniably strong colleague,” He broke the taunting silence, his eyes glancing away like he was thinking about something from the past. “However, now that everything had gone crumbling down and it’s only you and I left..” he smiled as his piercing eyes darted back at you again. “It feels like I have the responsibility to grasp every piece of love everyone else had for you.”

He dragged his finger, circling on the soft mattress of the table. “And finally form something full, something complete.”

You winced at his words. He knew you couldn’t handle this sort of conversation yet he dared utter those words like he wanted to let his friends die from the start.

Had he finally lost it?

Of course it was going to turn out like that for him as well. Everyone left the both of you in this grey world. Despite the other survivors remaining, you and him were like two small connected puzzle pieces lying far from the other pieces.

It was not the same. It will never be the same.

Everything hasn’t been okay since you stepped out of that butcher hole. It was beyond petrifying. It was traumatic for both parties. And yet he had the audacity to act like those deaths of his beloved ones had not fazed his delicate little soul. It was as though he was not quite as disheveled as you were.

“I can’t return the favor,” you dropped your spoon next to the plate. “Look, I don’t even believe I have the ability to form a proper relationship again.” your voice trembled. “I am really, extremely sorry so can you please just stop seeing me agai-.”

“I can,” He smiled. His body leaned against the table. “but you must promise me something.”

“You must tell me what it is, first or I will not be confined to it.” You stared into his wet eyes. Despite the goodie-two-shoes look on his face, you could sense the heavy burden of the man who was once the second strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world.

"In the future, if you ever find yourself in the position to love somebody again,” He smiled softly. “let it be me.” Somewhere along that sentence, you heard his voice shook.

Your breath became unstable. Is he stupid? Your ability to love was lacking because you had become too afraid to dedicate your heart again. Therefore this ridiculous fantasy he had was never likely to happen.

What is giving him the strength to be so desperate?

You pressed down both your hands into the table mattress. “Why must you be so stubborn? Don’t you get it? We are both at the edge of turning insane! What gives you the illusio-”

“I love you,” Yuta confessed, “I learned to appreciate you even more given the circumstances. I wish to adore every part of you while I remain alive.”

You felt like something clicked within you.

You realised that you had taken the negativity out of the situation whereas this man before you learn to cope with it in a more meaningful way. Had he always been like this?

The familiar old smile appeared in your memory and you confirmed that. He’d always been like this.

You inhaled as you built up every courage to breathe out. “You were already adored by many including me.” You said, shaken by the pain of the loss of your old boyfriend. “But I..promise you I will not dodge my feelings for you if I were to discover myself again.”

“Good.” He gave you a toothy grin. The one that you hadn’t seen for possibly years. “We will be alright, [Name].” He took your cold hands with his warm ones. “You and I, together, will go through this.”

Your heart ached at the look of his thrilled face. Can you really be hopeful about this? It should not possibly be happening sooner or later but maybe if you just stand strong and get up again, both of you get to live a happy life and this time, a happy ending.

“Now eat up, the food is getting cold.” He insisted before retreating his hand from yours. A small smile broke out your lips. You were almost certain that you will be having this guy in your house more often to cook meals for you.

Regarding fairness, It’s a price for asking a huge favor from you.

I saw a slideshow on tiktok about this kinda plot and I’m balling my eyes out. BTW I hope I still have my people w me.🙂‍↕️ I hadn’t posted in a long time due to assignments and stuff. I apologize deeply for that, my loves. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘

LIKES AND REPOSTS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATIVE. as usual ‹𝟹

[literatooru]

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧!

pairing: gn!reader x nanami kento

note: this is pt. 2 and my apology oops! part 1 is in my masterlist!

It’s October 31st, just a couple minutes after midnight. Any other Halloween night you’d be hanging around the door, waiting for the stampede of overly excited children with goofy costumes to swarm it in hopes to receive some candy.

Tonight, however, the muted sound of hesitant knuckles tapping against the wooden surface makes you jolt awake. At first, you think you must’ve dreamt it. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep—you’re waiting. Whether it’s bad news or good ones you’re in for, you’re not entirely sure. Despite reassuring yourself over and over again that Kento would be fine (he isn’t a grade 1 sorcerer by chance, after all) you can’t help the nagging knot in your gut that only seems to be growing tighter. The first bad omen of the night is the actually the knocking; Kento would just use his key. You’re sure it must be Ijichi and if that’s the case, then it can only mean bad news.

You rise from the couch as you release a slow, shaky breath in a failed attempt to steady your heartbeat. Its pace only increases with each step that takes you closer to the door and by the time you come to a stop in front of it and reach out to put the key in, your entire body is trembling. It takes you a couple tries to finally unlock the it, lips pressed to form a tight line.

A shaky breath escapes you when you open the door and your eyes meet his.

“Kento,” you breathe out. The anxiety that had you in a chokehold finds release in the shape of tears that roll freely down your cheeks. 

Nanami makes an effort to give a you smile. The corners of his lips struggle to quirk up and it’s a little wobbly, but it’s there. He’s there.

“Hey,” he whispers. His voice, just like his smile, is pretty weak. The initial shock of seeing him in front of you is slowly wearing off and you take your time to inspect him. His left hand is completely wrapped up in bandages—not a single inch of skin is visible under them, and the left half of his head is hidden from view as well. “I’m sorry I’m late, I was—”

“You’re alive,” you cry. 

“I am. I’m here.”

Your arms seem to have a mind of their own as they wrap around his torso, your face automatically nuzzling against the warmth of his chest, this time full-on sobbing into his shirt. Kento lets out a pained groan, but before you can pull away to apologize for being too brusque, his arms snake around your frame and hold you as tight as they can; pain be damned. His right hand, the one that’s not bandaged, cradles the nape of your neck gently. Kento lowers his head and takes a trembling breath, his body relaxing when his nostrils are flooded with your familiar and comforting scent. He’s back. He’s alive. And you’re still here.

You don’t know how much time you spend in each other’s arms but it doesn’t seem long enough—it never is. However, you figure the pain must be really bad, because his hands move with considerable urgency when he tries to pull away from the embrace.

“I’m sorry, did I—” you hesitate. Nanami grimaces, his movements deliberately slow so as to not make any wound feel worse than they already do while he takes his hand to his back pocket. “What? What do you need, what are you…?” The rest of your sentence dies down in your throat as a frown slowly makes its way onto your face. “Kento?”

“Do you remember what we talked about the other night?” he asks quietly.

To say that you’re puzzled is an understatement. You’re a little too preoccupied with the state of him to think about something you said some nights ago. In response, you simply blink.

“When I said I would like to switch the stairs for a slide? Because I was kidding about that, I didn’t—” your words halt when he chuckles, the action ripping another pained grimace from him. “Hey.”

“I’m okay,” he murmurs. Yes, he’s in incredible pain even after all the treatment, but there’s something immensely soothing about your presence that always makes anything bearable. “But no, I’m not talking about the… ridiculous slide idea,” he says. His brow pinches when he takes his hand out of his pocket, empty. He tries the other one. “I meant…” And then his frown melts into a small smile when his fingertips come into contact with his target. He pinches it between his fingers before retrieving his hand and presenting his opened palm to you. Right there in the center lies a ring. “This.”

Mouth agape and eyes even more watery than before, you stare at the piece of jewelry before your eyes dart up to meet his. 

“Kento,” you mumble. Your hand is tentative when it rises, index finger stretched out to touch the metal, warmed up due to his corporal heat. “Are you serious?”

Nanami gives what you assume is a scoff.

“Am I ever not?”

He smiles when you chuckle. Of course he’s serious. He’s wanted nothing more pretty much since he laid eyes on you. There would be no greater honor than spending the rest of his life with you. If he hadn’t been clear enough the other night when you two talked about it, maybe this would finally get it into your head.

“Well.” You extend all of your fingers straight, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as his still unsteady fingers clasp the ring before carefully sliding it onto your finger. 

“There. Looks right at home.”

“Feels right at home,” you say with a smile. You cup his right cheek with tenderness, standing on your tiptoes to plant a sweet peck on his skin. He seems a little disappointed that that’s all he gets but he understands; he can’t exactly exert himself after tonight’s events. “For the record, you look as dashing as ever.”

Another scoff from him, another giggle from you.

Nanami finally steps in and pushes the door closed with the ball of his heel. You tilt your head in confusion when he opens the palm of his hand in front of you and stares at you with a raised eyebrows.

“Keys,” he clarifies.

You press your lips together to suppress a smile.

“What happened to yours?”

“…I lost them,” he begrudgingly admits.

You can’t stop yourself from laughing this time. Reproach is clear on Nanami’s face, but there’s something underlying as well. Complete and absolute infatuation with you. 

“Wow, Nanamin!”

“Stop,” he says with a quiet chuckle.

“That is awfully irresponsible of you!”

“Well, they sort of got charred so I didn’t technically lose them,” he retorts, interlocking his fingers with yours and giving your hand a squeeze before leading you further into the house. 

Really, he’s never felt more at home.