#idk if last tag works or not but i can't come up with any thing better

[fannfish]

they remind me of those super whimsical fairy tales that no internal consistency from when i was kid

[starlightkyeom]

building blocks | yjh

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

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

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

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

(tag list at the end)

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

Except…

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bestie boo: i didn’t pay for it

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

“You should watch where you’re going.” 

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

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

“No,” he answers easily. 

“So…” you start. 

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

“You made an impression,” you say neutrally.

“A positive one?” he presses.

“I didn’t say that,” you counter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure sounds like it,” Seungkwan quips. 

“Fuck off, I do,” you double down. 

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

“Does it matter?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s with the look?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” he retorts quickly.

“You’re making a face,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he muses. 

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

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

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

“Now, that’s not true,” he disagrees. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can see why,” you deadpan. 

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

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

“Perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not for 20 more minutes,” he counters. 

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

“Hm,” he says.

“What, Jeonghan?” you ask with exasperation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m asking?” he offers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t figure you out,” you admit. 

“I know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow, that was nice,” you retort.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t like him, Kwan,” you sigh.

“Sure,” he says dismissively. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, of course not,” you concede. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll survive,” you deadpan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan says dismissively.

“I might hate him,” you say.

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

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

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

“You’ve been spending too much time around Vernon,” you scoff. 

“Maybe, but if you kill me, who’s going to lend their ear to you and listen to your troubles?” he asks.

“Van Gogh,” you answer immediately.

“He’s dead,” Seungkwan says with an arched eyebrow, carefully avoiding the more obvious retort.

“And so are you to me right now,” you say flatly. 

“Touche,” he says with a light laugh. “What’s he done this time that’s got you all pissy?”

“He’s spent the last 20 minutes debating with me over whether or not a hotdog is a sandwich,” you say, expecting Seungkwan to think it’s just as ridiculous as you. 

What you’re not expecting, though you should be, is for him to pick up Jeonghan’s side in the debate and make you rehash everything you’ve already talked about. It sounds like such an innocuous topic. Something so outlandish that it could possibly spark debate for more than a few minutes. Yet, here you are, having the same debate all over again. It makes you even more heated despite not having a stake or opinion before Jeonghan asked you. In fact, you had never even considered the question. It was one of the most effective he had posed since he started sending you random questions or opinions like this. 

Somehow, though, your biggest mistake is telling Jeonghan that your roommate got just as invested as he had about the topic. Worse when you told Jeonghan that Seungkwan was on his side. It made it immediately obvious that you could not ever let those two meet. It would spell an instant demise for any remaining sanity you had left. The realization that they would be instant best friends is terrifying. 

The debate about whether or not hotdogs are sandwiches lasts all the way until the next day when Jeonghan shows up at your office hours, right at the start. The look on his face tells him that he’s about to carry on the text conversation. But, thankfully, he falls silent when you say that you actually want to get some grading done unless he actually has a question about the course material. It makes him soften, actually, and he agrees that he’ll sit at the little table and work on some of his own homework. It doesn’t really give the impression that he’s asking you for help, though you’re sure that you could sell it if you needed to. 

Normally, it’s not all that distracting to have Jeonghan in your space. Probably because he’s there so often that you’re kind of used to him by now. That’s a thought you don’t allow yourself to dwell on too long. It’s easier to maintain the idea that you kind of hate him than to consider what your real feelings might be. Yet, those thoughts seem to be swirling in your head just by him existing in the same space as you. If he’s equally affected, then you can’t tell. His fingers seem to fly across his keyboard as he works steadily on something. 

Without warning, his voice interrupts the rhythm you finally find. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve never asked permission before,” you note, but don’t look up.

“I wasn’t sure if it was an office hours question,” he says with a little hesitation. 

That does get you to look over at him. “Is it about the course material?”

“No,” he says.

“Shocking,” you sigh. “Well, whatever it is, let’s have it.”

“Do you want to go out and get dinner sometime?” he asks, looking more vulnerable than usual.

It’s enough to make your heart both constrict and threaten to beat out of your chest. Does he know that you’ve been sitting here internally debating what your actual feelings towards him are? Has it been that obvious on your face? 

“With you?” you ask to buy yourself time. 

“That would be the idea, yes,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“I don’t know…” you start.

“You don’t know because you’re trying to spare my feelings? Or you’re not sure for some reason?” he asks to clarify.

That’s such a crossroads kind of question. You’re not actually sure what the answer is yourself. All you know is that you feel immediate panic at the thought of one of the professors, especially Professor Choi, seeing you out with him. It’s not that there are any rules about TAs and students dating. After all, TAs are just students themselves. But, since you’re doing most of the grading, setting some of the assignments, and even leading some of the classes, it’s frowned upon. It could give the student actually in the class some kind of perceived advantage. The thoughts just go rapidly flying through your brain as you look over at Jeonghan’s expectant face.

You decide on some version of the truth: that it doesn’t matter what you think, it’s not a good idea for you to blur that line. That if someone from the university saw you out, that it could possibly jeopardize everything you’ve spent years working on. That Professor Choi seems even more old school than most of the other professors. You’ve already sacrificed so much. It’s just not a risk you think you can take. 

What you don’t say: that the question actually confuses you. That you can see yourself saying yes to finally figure out what exactly it is that’s going on with you and Jeonghan. You wonder what type of place he would pick. Wonder what he’s like when it’s really just the two of you without the risk of someone else butting in. You wonder if maybe he’ll answer all those personal questions that he’s so fond of dodging when he’s sitting in your office. It actually makes you wonder if saying yes is worth taking a risk when you’ve been so careful with everything in your entire academic career. It’s the kind of thought that really terrifies you even more. This is a man that you can’t even figure out your feelings towards and yet you’re considering taking a massive risk. 

It’s one of the most intense office hours you hold and you’re left with more questions than answers. 

It’s been another exhausting day between your own classes, research, and doing work as a TA. Sure, there are definite upsides to your schedule. It helps you feel like you have a complete grasp on the material. It also helps you feel like you might be well suited to being a lecturer or even a professor yourself down the line. You also know that you’re giving more to your time as a TA than you need to. It’s just that you don’t want to leave anything to chance. The stronger the recommendation from Choi, the better. 

When you get to your apartment, Seungkwan is in the kitchen with Vernon and Chan. Which should be a concerning sight, since none of them are exactly great cooks, but you’re too tired to really care. You’re also kind of starving and whatever they’re making smells good. What’s the worst that could happen? So you call out quick greetings before heading into your room to drop off your things and change. You reemerge to the sounds of them bickering back and forth.

“Hey, do you want to try some of what we’re making?” Chan calls.

“She’s going to say no,” Seungkwan says.

“I’m starving. I’m down to try whatever it is,” you disagree. 

“Looks like Chan wins this one,” Vernon teases. 

A beep from your phone distracts you from engaging in the bickering back and forth. It’s the last thing you’re expecting, though it shouldn’t be. Ever since Jeonghan managed to get your number, and heard your half-hearted chat about boundaries, he’s been bothering you whenever he feels like it. 

Jeonghan: have you thought about what I asked? You: no Jeonghan: don’t believe you You: my answer hasn’t changed Jeonghan: that it's not a good idea? You: exactly Jeonghan: that’s not a no You: isn’t it? Jeonghan: listen, I respect you and if you tell me no, I won’t ask again Jeonghan: the only thing I’m going to ask if you actually think about it before saying no You: fine

“Hello? Are you there?” Seungkwan asks, snapping his fingers in front of your face. 

“Huh?” you ask.

“Oh, she’s gone girl,” Chan says with a laugh.

“Who were you texting?” Seungkwan asks. He gives you a look that screams he’s about to tease the shit out of you if you’re honest.

“Oh, nobody important. Just a friend,” you say dismissively. 

“Are we calling Jeonghan a friend now?” Seungkwan teases. 

“It wasn’t Jeonghan,” you say with an eye roll.

“Who’s Jeonghan?” Vernon asks.

“I think he’s that guy we’ve been betting on when she’s gonna finally give in and sleep with him,” Chan says in an undertone to Vernon.

“I’m not going to sleep with…hang on. What the fuck?” you ask, wheeling around on Seungkwan. “Have you been betting on me again?” 

“Only when you’re being an idiot,” Seungkwan says with a shrug. 

“Wait, again?” Vernon asks.

“Bro, we have been involved in other bets,” Chan says.

“I need new friends,” you grumble.

From there, it devolves into the usual bickering that you associate with your friend group. Sometimes you wonder how you even got so sucked into this friend group where they’re two or three years younger than you. You’re incredibly thankful for them, though, even in moments like this where you want to strangle them. 

Dinner moves into watching something and playing a game. It always goes the same way. Chan or Vernon take care of picking what to watch since they watch more TV and movies than you and Seungkwan. Conversely, Seungkwan usually picks the game, which is never a good idea because he always picks something that he’s good at. It doesn’t really matter to you, at least. Your brain tends to be fried from classes and research and all that. It’s nice to let them just make the decisions and chime in when you have something to say.

Thankfully, the conversations quickly move past your friends and their complete conviction that you have feelings for Jeonghan to much less serious topics. Sitting there, though, you feel an overwhelming sense of peace even in the chaos. Even when you say that you need new friends, you know that you wouldn’t trade these friends for the world. 

It’s been just over a week since you promised to give Jeonghan’s question actual thought. You’re still not entirely sure why you agreed. It’s not like you’re actually going to say anything other than no. It’s been a little weird, though, because Jeonghan hasn’t brought it up again, either. It’s like he’s actually been true to his word. He even skipped your office hours when he would usually show up just to bother you and pretend to ask questions. 

Since your workload has been a little light, you agree to go out for drinks with Seungkwan and some friends. It’s a much needed night to unwind and just not think about any of the issues that plague you during the week. It’s a night of ridiculous conversations while you all give each other a hard time about nothing that really matters. Eventually, as is always the way it goes, Seungkwan gets up and kicks off some karaoke. It’s a blessing and a curse. He’s got an amazing voice and you feel like you should be paying to hear someone sing that well. But, then he wants other people to join him and none of you are that keen to embarrass yourselves by following him. 

Casting your eyes around the bar, they land on someone in a leather jacket. As you watch, he shrugs it off and sets it on the back of his chair. There’s something compellingly beautiful about him. He runs a hair through his short, perfectly textured black hair and turns his face slightly to the side. You’re appreciating his profile for a second before it hits you. This isn’t some stranger. It’s Jeonghan. It’s just that he’s clearly cut his hair and styled it differently. You quickly return your eyes to your group and only can hope that he hasn’t noticed you yet. Then again, Seungkwan has been loud and singing before returning to your table. Most people seem to have noticed him. Still, since Jeonghan hasn’t texted you or come over to say anything, you figure that maybe he hasn’t seen you. No matter what, you down another drink to forget about checking him out. 

By the time it’s your turn to go up to the bar and get another round of drinks, you’ve mostly pushed the thought of Jeonghan out of your mind. With your back to his table, it’s been much easier to act like he doesn’t exist. Once you’re at the bar, it’s a little more difficult. Your eyes find his table without even meaning to. His jacket is still there, but he’s not. 

“Looking for me?” a soft voice asks from just beside you. 

It makes you jump a little to realize that he’s somehow right next to you. You try your hardest to act like you’re unaffected when you turn to face him. Try to act like you didn’t realize he was there. Kind of fail at that, honestly, because you’re one drink past the point of being able to pull it off. “Hey, Jeonghan. How long have you been here?”

He smiles that mischievous smile that always makes him look like he knows something that you don’t. “I saw you looking over at my table. You knew I was here.”

“I almost don’t recognize you with the new haircut and that leather jacket,” you say and only realize your mistake a second too late. 

“The leather jacket back at my table?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “I saw you checking your phone too.” 

“Were you watching me?” you challenge.

“Yes,” he admits freely. “You’re nice to look at.” 

“Oh, well that’s not…I didn’t mean,” you stutter out, saved by the bartender setting a small tray down of drinks for you and your friends. 

Somehow, though, because life isn’t fair (and neither is Seungkwan), your best friend picks that moment to waltz over claiming he wants to help with drinks. What he really seems to want is to introduce himself to Jeonghan. Even goes as far as pretending he hasn’t heard Jeonghan’s name before. Seungkwan manages to sell it better too and you think it would probably pass with anyone else that wasn’t paying such sharp attention. It’s only then that you notice Jeonghan doesn’t have a drink in hand. Doesn’t really seem the slightest bit drunk. Which is fine until Seungkwan manages to make it even worse by inviting Jeonghan and his friends to come join your group. 

Then, something else that’s kind of weird happens. Jeonghan, who has spent the entirety of the semester up until about a week ago terrorizing you, barely says anything to you at all. He talks about his favorite artists with Seungkwan. Asks Chan for suggestions on some movies that he’s recently seen. Even laughs about random ass memes with Vernon. His friends, whose names you can’t even remember, fit in just as seamlessly. It’s a little…well, uncomfortable. It’s giving you entirely too much time to think and you don’t like it.

So, you do the only reasonable thing and you keep getting drinks. Stay just on the right side of drunk so that you’re aware of your surroundings, but not sober. It makes it easier to deal with everything happening around you.

As the night continues on, your merged groups seem to ebb and flow. Some people wander over, drawn in by the fact that it seems like a fun place to be. Other times, some wander off to make new friends or have new conversations. This is especially true of Seungkwan, which you’re used to. Your roommate is one of the most social people that you know. And then people start to make their excuses to leave as it gets later. How you end up outlasting Chan is a mystery, since he seems to have endless energy. It’s fine, though. You still have your roommate.

Well, until he tells you, without nearly the amount of shame that he should have, that he’s going to be bringing someone home that he got to talking to about karaoke. It’s a little unlike him, at least until you realize that the person isn’t a stranger. They’re definitely someone that Seungkwan has talked to before. It still leaves you a little lost on what to do or where to go.

“I never ask you for anything,” Seungkwan pleads. It’s patently false. He’s always asking you for things, just never things like this. 

“I could text Chan or Vernon to see if they’ll let me crash on their couch,” you say, trying to quickly clear the cloudiness from your brain. 

“Don’t they put their phones into DND as soon as they get home?” Seungkwan asks.

“My only other option is to just go home and put headphones on,” you say.

“You could come crash at my place. My roommate won’t be back from a trip til tomorrow,” Jeonghan offers. 

“Perfect! Thank you!” Seungkwan rushes out.

“Um? Seungkwan? You can’t just send me to some stranger's house?” you protest.

“He’s not a stranger. He’s been in your class all semester and at your office hours nearly every day,” Seungkwan says with an eye roll. Jeonghan looks vindicated hearing this piece of information. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“It’ll be fine. I can sleep in his room and you can sleep in mine. I’ll even make sure you have fresh sheets if you’re worried,” he says. 

This is definitely a bad idea. Even though you’re not drunk, you’re definitely not sober enough to pretend you’re not at least a little bit interested in Jeonghan. Everything about him seems to be a study in contrasts. Confident but not in some toxic masculinity type of way. Chaotic but serious at the same time. Silly to where he would say he joined a class because he’s good at Legos but also genuinely smart. And beautiful in a way so few men seem to be. He’s just something entirely his own.

You shake your head because you realize you’re spacing out. This is a terrible idea and one you probably wouldn’t agree to if you were sober. It’s not like he’s actually a stranger, though. Jeonghan seems to have realized the conclusion before you open your mouth. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Dangerous question,” Jeonghan says with a glint in his eyes. 

“I love you,” Seungkwan says and wraps you up in a hug before skipping off. 

“Are you ready to leave, then?” Jeonghan asks when it’s just the two of you.

“Yeah, might as well,” you say. He nods, looking a little unsure for the first time since you’ve known him and turns to grab his jacket. Says a quick goodbye to his friends and you try to ignore the looks they cast over at you. 

“Let’s go,” he says a minute later.

“Are we calling an Uber or something?” you ask.

“I’m sober because I rode my bike here,” he says as he leads the way outside.

“I’m sorry, you rode your what?” you ask, brain slow to catch up with what he’s saying. It’s then that you notice he didn’t just grab his jacket. He’s got a helmet as well. 

“Bike,” he says and indicates a motorcycle parked outside the bar. 

That brings you up a little short. It’s the last thing you would have expected when you thought of this man. Though, maybe it shouldn’t have been. After all, you said he was a study in contrasts. Isn’t this just another one of those? 

Somehow, the more you look, the more it seems to suit him. It’s not some big, clunky bike. Not what you typically think of when you think of a motorcycle. It’s sharp and beautiful, just like he is, even if you can only admit that in your head. He pulls open a compartment that seems to be under the backseat and hands over a helmet. 

“Promise I won’t go too fast,” he says with a softer smile than you’ve seen on him before. Like he’s actually trying to reassure you. 

Sure, it’s not the first time you’ve been on a bike. It’s just that of all the ways you could have seen this night ending, this wasn’t one of them. At least you’re not feeling too self conscious as you slide onto the bike behind Jeonghan and wrap your arms around his waist. You miss the way his breath stutters as you settle in close to him. Miss the way his heart starts to beat out of his chest because you’re too focused on getting comfortable. Don’t even think twice about clinging to his lean frame. But, even with the drinks, it’s hard to ignore the way that your body slots perfectly against his. Or the way your thighs squeeze against his hips. Maybe there’s a lot more to whatever has been happening than you’ve been admitting to yourself. 

Once you reach Jeonghan’s apartment, he carefully helps you off the bike and then puts a bit of distance between you again. It’s the first time that you notice he seems nervous, like maybe, you think, he might be reconsidering if this was a good idea. There’s not really much you can do about that now. You promised Seungkwan that he could have some privacy in the apartment and you’re already here. It can’t possibly be so bad that you really regret coming here. It could even help you sort through the very complicated feelings that are making their presence known. 

Inside the apartment it’s incredibly cozy. Not at all like you imagine two single guys would live while they’re in school. It’s not overly cluttered, but it doesn’t feel cold either. Jeonghan disappears as soon as you both have your shoes off, which lets you look around at some of the decorations. He returns with a spare t-shirt and shorts for you to change into. Despite your insistence that it’s fine, he just presses them to you and indicates where the bathroom is for you to change. 

It feels oddly…comfortable. Like this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him outside of class or your office. It also makes you take a little longer to change because you have to process whatever you’re feeling. Since you’re not sure exactly what to do after you change, you peek your head out into the living area. Jeonghan is setting some snacks and water out with the TV on in the background. You take it as a sign that you’re supposed to come out and join him. Momentarily, he disappears into his room and reappears also wearing more comfortable clothes. 

The confusion only gets even worse from there. Maybe it’s just that Seungkwan’s gotten into your head. Since you’re finally processing that you might be interested in being something a little more with Jeonghan, you expect things to go a certain way. Seungkwan, and your other friends, for that matter, seem to think it’s only a matter of time before you cross over into being more than friends. Subconsciously, your brain must have latched onto that. Even wanted it, a little. But, now you’re here, and Jeonghan doesn’t do anything. He’s not the smooth, confident person that you’ve gotten to know over the course of the semester. He doesn’t try to pull any moves on you. Just makes sure that you’re comfortable, that you like the snacks, and that you like the show he has on.

It all feels like it’s a little too much and so Jeonghan shows you the way to his bedroom. Your nerves feel frayed because surely, this is the moment where things finally shift. Surely this is when he makes whatever move he’s held off on making up until this point. Quickly, you brush off the need to change the sheets. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal if something else happens. Without giving your brain a chance to overthink it, you lean in to give him a hug. His whole body tenses for a second and you’re about to pull away, when he finally relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“You know, you can just sleep in your own bed,” you offer carefully.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he says through an emotion that you can’t place. 

“I won’t be. Plus, I’d hate to force you into your roommate’s bed,” you suggest again, meeting his eye to reinforce the point.

“Oh, well, it’s…” he starts, eyes avoiding your gaze.

“Really, Jeonghan, it’s fine. Your bed is big,” you say.

“Okay,” he agrees and walks to the other side of the bed.

It’s confusing, to say the least. He slides into the opposite side of the bed without meeting your eyes again. You’re not exactly sure how to give him another sign that you want something else to happen without making it too obvious, especially because it’s not clear if he wants that. The guy constantly in your office was just on the right side of flirty. Always trying to wear you down. This Jeonghan in his apartment is much quieter, more reserved. Like he’s not really sure what happens now that he’s gotten you outside of school like he claims he’s wanted. 

“D’you usually sleep with the TV on?” he asks and you pull a face.

“I’m not a psycho,” you snort. 

“Good to know after I let you into my apartment,” he jokes back and turns on the TV anyway. “I’ll set a timer just in case we both fall asleep.” 

Confusing. You’re laying in bed with this person that up until tonight you referred to as basically a stranger and there’s just…nothing happening. The two of you are plenty close enough that you could brush up against him, yet not touching at all. His attention seems to stay forward on the TV. Occasionally, he shifts to get more comfortable, but he doesn’t get onto his phone or even really look over at you. 

Thankfully, the bed is comfortable and without even realizing it, you drift off to sleep laying on your side, facing Jeonghan. The last thing you remember is looking up at his face. Appreciating the cut of his jaw and the way the light from the TV threw his features into contrast. Then nothing but the easiest sleep you’ve had after a night of drinking.

In the morning, when it’s too early to wake up after a late night but late enough that the sun seeps through the curtains, you have a momentary panic wondering where you are. Slowly, the night before settles back into your brain and you relax into the bed. It’s only when you feel a weight around your middle that you wonder if everything is coming back. It is, though. You think back to the last things you remember before falling asleep. Jeonghan was safely on his side of the bed. Now, his arm is draped over your waist and he’s breathing rhythmically like he’s still fast asleep. For once, instead of overthinking it, you just slow your brain back down and drift back into sleep. After all, this is one the right path to what you wanted the night before. 

The sun is fully up when you wake up again if the light streaming around the curtains is any indication. That’s not the only difference, either. There’s no weight around your waist and, when you look over your shoulder, the other side of the bed is empty. Which isn’t entirely surprising when your phone tells you that it’s nearly noon. It’s very unlike you to sleep in that late, but it makes sense. You’re just thankful that Jeonghan insisted on giving you so much water and something to make sure you didn’t wake up with a headache. Even though you’re still a little tired, you’re not hungover and that feels like a miracle. 

But, what do you do now? Nothing happened last night, despite genuinely feeling like Jeonghan had some level of interest in you. But, then he did share the bed with you and curl up to you during the night. Maybe that was his subconscious way of showing what he couldn’t say. You’re out of the bed and nearly out the bedroom door when you hear voices drifting in from somewhere else in the apartment. Voices, plural. One is clearly Jeonghan, but the other sounds female and that stops you in your tracks. 

The decision is immediate once you hear the second voice laughing at something Jeonghan says. You open your group chat with Seungkwan, Chan, and Vernon to ask if any of them are around to pick you up. Chan is the first, and fastest, to respond, saying to drop your location and he’ll be out the door to get you in a minute without any questions asked. That’s more than you’re expecting and you’re incredibly thankful. Makes it feel like one weight has been lighted as you quickly and quietly get dressed back into the clothes you wore the night before. 

Chan texts you to let you know he’s only a few minutes out. That’s your queue to actually leave the bedroom and make an appearance out in the rest of the apartment. Jeonghan’s back is to you and it looks like he’s got a cup of coffee next to him. The other person you heard from the bedroom is, in fact, a woman. She’s stunning in an effortless way that actually makes your head hurt a little bit. It has absolutely nothing to do with the drinks the night before, either. Her eyes land on you and there’s a smile you can’t place. It could be saying that she knows she won, despite whatever effort you made. Something on her face must tip Jeonghan off because he turns around.

And it’s worse than you thought, immediately. The smile on his face is both welcoming and soft, like he’s actually happy to see you. It only makes the whole thing more confusing. Why is he looking at you like that with one of the most beautiful people sitting across from him? 

“You’re awake,” he says, still smiling. “I hope Hana here didn’t make too much noise.” 

“Sorry, babe, I only have one volume setting,” she, Hana, apparently, says with another smile you can’t place. 

“Do you want coffee? Something to eat?” Jeonghan says and starts to get out of his chair.

“No, no, it’s fine. My friend is almost here to pick me up. Thanks for letting me crash last night,” you say without fully meeting Jeonghan’s eyes. It means you miss the confusion that settles in there.

Without a backward glance, you’re out the door and down the elevator. It’s only another minute or so before Chan pulls up, shockingly by himself, and smiles softly at you as you get into his car. All he asks is if you’re hungry and then starts navigating to your favorite place to get breakfast food that’s open at least into the early afternoon. It’s exactly what you need right now. 

Chan lets you just be in your head while he drives with music playing softly in the background. It might be a dangerous decision, honestly. All you can think about are reasons for that person, Hana, your brain supplies automatically, to be in Jeonghan’s apartment like that. His roommate wasn’t home, to the best of your knowledge, so that means she was there for Jeonghan. Was that his girlfriend? Was that why he was so reluctant to do anything the night before? On some level, you do know that’s probably not the right answer. The rational part of your brain knows that he wouldn’t be so calm if that was his girlfriend. There’s no space in your brain for rationality right now, though. So, you’re going to stew in the feelings that she could be dating someone. 

“Do you wanna talk about whatever happened last night?” Chan asks once you’re sitting opposite of each other in a booth. 

“Not really,” you say. “Nothing happened last night, though. So, you don’t have to worry about whoever wins the bet.” 

“I’m not worried about some stupid bet. I’m worried about you,” he says. 

You shrug. “I think I might actually like him.”

“No shit,” Chan says with a knowing smile.

“You didn’t let me finish. I think I might like him and I don’t think it matters,” you say.

“Start at the beginning and we’ll figure this out together.” 

It’s been a week since whatever happened at Jeonghan’s apartment and you haven’t spoken a word to him since leaving. Not that he hasn’t tried to speak to you. After breakfast with Chan, you realized you had both texts and missed calls from Jeonghan trying to figure out what went wrong. Those stay unanswered. Even if you’re being stupid, you can’t really bring yourself to behave in a different way. When the next class comes around, you avoid his eyes as much as possible. The one or two times you do look over at him, he looks incredibly hurt and confused. It’s funny, you think, how he’s the one that’s acting put out by this whole situation when you’re the one who had to wake up to some other woman in his apartment without understanding anything. 

That leads to your first office hours. Thankfully, Jeonghan doesn’t show up to those like he normally would. The office feels a lot quieter, even though other students stop by to ask questions. It just all feels very professional and detached. Not comfortable in the way it does when he drops by. It’s hard to admit, even to yourself, that you had gotten used to having him around. That you even looked forward to it. Somehow, you’re not really sure how, Jeonghan became one of your favorite parts of every day you saw him. That realization makes you want to crawl into your bed and hide forever. No matter what, it doesn’t feel like you’ll have the option to go back to that. It sucks to realize it just took you too long to come to the very obvious conclusion. 

Now, at least, it’s the weekend again so you have a short reprieve from all things school related. Well, all things Jeonghan related because you still have your own homework to handle, assignments to grade, and a new week to prepare for. At the very least, you deserve a little bit of a treat. Texting the group chat makes you realize, though, that a lot of your friends seem to have their own things going on. 

Seungkwan is out spending the day with the same person that he brought home last weekend. They seem like they’re really enjoying getting to know each other, which you’re rooting for wholeheartedly. You want your roommate and best friend to be happy. Vernon is kind of vague saying that he’s got other plans. With anyone else, you might think that he’s also seeing someone. You just know that he tends to be a little spacy when it comes to sharing plans. Knowing Vernon, he’s probably just off with some friend of his. Once again, Chan comes through and says that he could really use a coffee. Apparently, there’s some new cafe by him that he’s been wanting to try out. It feels like an excuse because Chan will absolutely go anywhere by himself, but you take it all the same. He’s actually probably the easiest of your friends to speak to about this, even if he’s younger than you are. 

One sip into your drink proves that this is the best decision for a Saturday afternoon. Chan chatters away about the things that have been going on in his life. He’s taking more dance classes in every free moment he has and it’s nice to see the way his face lights up talking about it. He certainly seems happier than any time you see him talking about his actual classes. Think about suggesting he give up one thing to pursue something else that would truly make him happy. His face is different when he’s happy like this. It makes it obvious how strained he feels with everything else.

A laugh pierces through the crowd and it gives you the worst sense of deja vu. Suddenly, you’re back in Jeonghan’s apartment. Which is crazy, right? What are the odds that he and the mystery woman are in this same coffee shop at the same time as you and Chan?

Not impossible, apparently. Well, at least in part. Your eyes cast around for the source of the laugh when they land on the mystery woman sitting with someone else that you don’t recognize. Your brain tries to stutter over the name before it forces you to think, Hana. Just as you’re about to look away, her eyes find yours like she could sense someone looking at her. She flashes a smile, which you try to return, before looking back at Chan and whatever story he’s sharing. 

That should be it. Except, when she appears by your side a moment later, you realize it’s not. She has someone else you’ve never seen in tow behind her. Chan, not always as quick on the uptake, looks up at her in confusion.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure if you remembered me…” she begins and you’re quick to answer.

“I do, yeah. Sorry about the other day,” you say. Chan’s face has a look of dawning comprehension. 

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry if I did something to offend you. I didn’t even catch your name,” Hana says and you open your mouth to share before she cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “No, Jeonghan told me. He’s done nothing but speak about you for weeks now.”

“And I thought I could be annoying,” the mystery person says from behind Hana.

“Oh, I’m so rude. This is my boyfriend, Joshua,” Hana introduces and your brain short circuits. What? Boyfriend?

“And Jeonghan’s roommate. I hit traffic coming back last weekend or I would’ve been there to meet you as well. Make the morning even more awkward,” he jokes.

“I’m sorry,” you say, rapidly trying to make your brain connect. “You two are dating?”

“Yup!” Hana says with a smile and then notices your face. “Wait, what did you think? That I was dating Jeonghan?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know. I just thought…it was still early-ish in the day and…” you stumble awkwardly. 

“Babe, no. Jeonghan is very single. I was just early getting there because Joshua hit traffic and I was excited to see him,” she says. “He will kill me for saying this, but he hasn’t talked about anyone but you since the class started.”

“Please note that I had no part in spilling the beans. I have to live with him,” Joshua jokes. 

“And just so there’s no more confusion, I’m one of her closest friends, Chan. Not a boyfriend or date or anything like that,” Chan says. 

“Oh!” Hana says and turns to Joshua. “Jeonghan was mentioning him, remember? There was a movie we were supposed to watch.” 

“Yeah, he did mention that,” Joshua agrees.

“Anyway, I’m sure you have lots to think about, but I’m nosy and I figured I’d say hi. Have a good weekend!” Hana says, full of more energy than anyone should have on the weekend. Joshua gives a smile and follows her out of the shop.

As soon as they’re out of sight, you drop your head into your hands. All that worrying and you could have just talked to him. Could have avoided this whole idiotic situation. 

“Feeling kinda dumb right now?” Chan asks. You raise your head to glare at him. “I did say it didn’t seem like he was seeing someone.” 

“Not the time, Chan,” you say.

“It’s completely the time. Look, yeah you fucked up by not just talking to him. But, you admitted that you liked him. He clearly likes you. Just talk to him. I’m sure you can fix it,” he says. 

“I don’t know,” you start. “I was such an asshole.” 

“I mean, yeah, you kind of were. But, he spent that whole night after Seungkwan invited them over getting to know your friends. Genuinely interested in everything we said. He’s not doing that just to make more friends. He wants to show you that he can fit into your life without anything really having to change,” Chan reasons and it brings you up short.

“When did you get so smart?” you question.

“I’ve always been smart, you just treat me like a baby,” he says with an eye roll.

“You are the baby in this friend group,” you point out. 

“Just go figure out how to make it up to him,” Chan says. 

Even though you know it was a terrible miscommunication, you’re not sure how to approach Jeonghan for the rest of the weekend. You’re also not sure how the conversation will go. So, despite knowing better, you decide to just take your time. Get yourself completely set for the coming week and figure that you’ll see Jeonghan during the next class. As much as you want resolution, you don’t feel like it would be enough for you to text him and ask to talk. That could also be taken wildly out of context.

So, you prepare for the next class. Make sure you look a little cuter than you normally would for class. Go over what you’re going to say with both Seungkwan and Chan, who’s gotten incredibly invested in the whole situation. It’s another class where you’ll just be sitting in the back and listening, which might also make it easier. You’re a little early getting there so that you can set all your things down. 

But, then the class starts to fill in and you don’t see Jeonghan. Professor Choi closes the door, doesn’t comment on Jeonghan’s absence, and just starts teaching. It’s unusual. He normally takes attendance. Instead, he does a head count of the students and gets on with teaching. Everyone else is there. Jeonghan is the only one missing. You figure that maybe he reached out about missing the class. It leaves a weird feeling in your stomach, though, because you wonder if he’s okay. What if something happened to him? 

At the end of class, you join Choi at the front as you do on every other occasion. The answer comes immediately when Choi looks up at you. “Mr. Yoon emailed me before the class to say that he was feeling very sick and wouldn’t be able to make it. I assured him you would send over some notes on the subject matter today.” 

You try to avoid any relief that you feel at knowing it’s at least nothing that serious. It sucks that he’s sick, but at least he wasn’t in an accident or anything. You need to stop going to the worst case scenario, honestly. “Oh, sure. I’m sure he’s already ahead on the material, but I’ll send it over.”

“He’s such a good student,” Choi agrees. “Thank you for helping him with the proposal. I’m not sure if you read it over, but it’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“I did read it because he wrote it during my office hours. But, it was all him,” you say. 

Professor Choi looks up at you like he knows that’s not entirely true. “I can feel your influence on it. In a good way, of course. You have a habit of helping people get to their best results.”

“Thank you,” you say earnestly. It’s the most genuine compliment he’s ever given you. He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a folder to hand to you. “Did I miss picking up an assignment to grade?”

“No,” he says with a smile you’re not used to seeing. “This is your letter for the recommendation packet. I already sent it in, but I thought you might like to see a copy.”

“Thank you so much, Professor Choi,” you say with a relieved sigh. 

“You’re incredibly bright, probably one of the brightest students I’ve ever taught,” he says and it takes you completely by surprise. “I know it’s probably seemed like I’ve been hard on you because I have been. I knew there was even more potential in you waiting to be coaxed out. I also know I made it much easier on John to ask for a recommendation. But, between you and I, your letter is much more complimentary and personal than his was. I can’t wait to see what you accomplish.” 

It all suddenly makes sense. Everything that Choi has put you through since asking for his letter. It almost makes you laugh. “I’m sorry for doubting your motives for asking me to TA this class.”

Now, Professor Choi does actually laugh. “Oh, no need to apologize for that. It’s much easier to get the most out of a student when they think they have something to prove.”

“You may be onto something,” you agree.

“I’ll see you next class,” he says and closes up his briefcase to head off.

With that bit of good news, you feel a lot lighter. You almost don’t even need to read the letter (though, you definitely will later). It’s enough to know that your entire future is still open ahead of you. It makes all of the miscommunication with Jeonghan feel incredibly silly. It also makes you feel a little bolder. So, you figure that you still have the location for Jeonghan’s apartment dropped in a group chat. Why not get him some food and medicine to help him feel better? It’ll give you a chance to apologize for how you’ve handled everything up until this point. 

That idea seems a little poorly thought out when you show up at Jeonghan’s apartment with soup and medication. He answers the door, looking completely fine healthwise and confused to see you standing on the other side of the door. 

“Professor Choi said you were really sick so I figured I’d bring some soup to help you feel better,” you offer, holding up the bag to show him. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. There’s none of the normal warmth.

“I was worried about you,” you admit.

He sighs and leans against the doorframe without letting you in. “I can’t do these mind games.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “I know I messed up really badly. I owe you an apology.” 

“You might as well come in,” Jeonghan says and steps aside. “Soup does also sound good. It’s cold out.” 

“Right, here,” you say and hand it over to him.

“Is there enough for you to eat with me?” he asks and takes the bag. “Oh, it looks like it. Wanna join me? And you can try to explain what’s been going on?” 

“Sure,” you agree.

It’s mostly silent as Jeonghan heats up the soup and puts it into two bowls for you to enjoy it with him. He sets the bowls at the kitchen table and also sets some drinks down for you. The two of you take a few sips first before you venture to explain what’s been going on.

“I’m really sorry, Jeonghan,” you say.

“So you’ve said,” he comments. He’s not going to make this easy on you.

“That whole night when I stayed here wasn’t exactly what I signed up for,” you admit. He opens his mouth, but you wave him off. “Let me try to get this out. You were so kind and caring to me when you brought me back here. Then, I was kind of expecting something to happen and nothing did…”

“Because you had been drinking. I wasn’t just gonna be like hey, let’s jump into bed when your mind wasn’t fully clear,” he says with a scoff. 

“That’s fair. I get that,” you acknowledge. “Then, I don’t know. I saw Hana sitting out here with you the next day and I just kinda freaked out. I had realized that I might actually like you and here’s this beautiful person in your apartment for who knows what reason. I worried she was your girlfriend or something.”

He snorts a little derisively at that. “That would be kinda shitty to share a bed with you and then let you walk out to find me with a girlfriend. She’s not, by the way. She’s my roommate Joshua’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I know. I ran into her and Joshua while I was getting coffee over the weekend,” you admit sheepishly. This seems to surprise him.

“You met Joshua?” he asks. 

“They didn’t tell you?” you ask in return and he shakes his head. “Probably because Hana told me that I’m the only one you’ve talked about since starting the class.” 

“I wouldn’t have even cared if I had an answer to why you started ignoring me,” he says. 

“I got a bit scared,” you say softly. 

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t just speak to me,” he insists.

“I know that. I really am sorry, that’s all I can say,” you offer. 

“Well that and you can tell me that you do actually like me. Not that you might like me or something else vague,” he says with a glint to his eyes. 

“You are…infuriating,” you say with a laugh. “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and impossibly kind. You make me want to pull out my hair at least once a day…”

“Don’t do that. You have nice hair,” he interjects.

“But, yes, I’m trying not to be scared anymore. So yeah, I do like you,” you say.

“What about being the TA for my class?” he asks and you shrug. 

“The class will end eventually,” you say. 

“Does this count as our first date, then?” he asks like the true demon he is. 

“Only if you plan something else for our second date,” you concede.

“Deal,” he agrees. 

Everything feels a little bit easier after that. A little bit lighter. Like you actually can breathe for the first time all semester. You tell Jeonghan about the letter and he suggests that you read it right then with him. It makes sense, in a way. Working with Jeonghan has brought out exactly the side to you that Choi wanted to see. It feels like this is kind of his win as well, even though he didn’t realize it. It also feels a little less overwhelming to read it with him by your side. (It’s a rave. Way better than anything you could have dared to hope for and better than any other letter written by him that you’ve read. Everything feels worth it and like it falls into place.)

Now that the awkwardness is out of the way, Jeonghan shares that he wasn’t actually sick, which you already know. It’s obvious looking at him that he feels fine. It does surprise you a bit that he admits to avoiding you to give himself time to process, though. Then he moves onto talking about Joshua and Hana, grumbling that they hadn’t told him about running into you after you relay the entire conversation. Even goes as far as to say that he would have come to class so that you could have figured all of this out. Instead, he admits telling Joshua about the plan to skip. That’s why Joshua isn’t there, though. He claimed he was going to give Jeonghan his space to work through whatever he was feeling and spend the night at Hana’s. You make a mental note to thank Joshua for that. 

“How early is your day tomorrow? Do you want to stay and watch a movie or something?” he asks a little awkwardly when you finish your soup.

“Not that early,” you answer easily. “A movie sounds good, but can we watch something in your room? I feel like laying in bed and being lazy.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” he says.

“We don’t have to,” you say quickly.

“Can I say something that’s really gonna make me look…not cool?” he asks. 

“Sure,” you say curiously.

“You make me a little nervous,” he admits. 

That completely surprises you. Nothing about Jeonghan really seems anything short of confident in everything that he does. It’s kind of nice to see him falter. All you do is hold out a hand to him. “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

He takes your hand easily and lets you lead him into his own bedroom. Seems very content to let you just set the pace of what’s happening. So, you settle on top of his covers and he hands you the remote. It’s nice to get to control what’s on the TV for a change, even if you’re not really paying much attention to it. Jeonghan is a little stiff against his headboard as you try to settle into his body. 

“Is it okay if I lean against you like this?” you ask, suddenly worrying this is too much.

“Of course,” he says after a moment. 

“You can tell me if…” you start.

“No,” he says firmly. “No, I’ve been thinking about this since the last time I had you in my bed.”

“Just since then?” you tease.

“No, it was definitely before then, but I’ve already lost a lot of cool points,” he says.

“I don’t want to possibly misread the signs, but are you okay with…” you start, once again, before he cuts you off.

“I am fine with absolutely anything you want to give me,” he says and you wish you could see his face. Wonder if he’s blushing.

“And if that’s just a cuddle?” you test.

“Fine,” he says.

“Or if it’s a kiss?” you ask and feel the breath he takes. “Or what about if it’s a lot more than a kiss?” 

He takes another beat. His voice sounds a bit strained when he speaks. “Definitely more than just fine.” 

That’s really all the confirmation that you need. Making sure you’re on the same page is important and getting this kind of consent makes it easier to relax. You settle further back into his chest and pull his arm around you, let one of your own arms drape across his lap. It feels like it might be easier for him to settle that way. So that you can’t see his face and he doesn’t have to worry about losing any more cool points. Not that those really matter with you anyway. More than anything, it’s entertaining to see the way this constantly confident, perpetual pain in the ass gets so tongue-tied now that he’s getting what he wants. 

The more time goes by, the more he seems to relax a little more into what’s happening around him. His fingers absently run along your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. He leans his head down to meet yours and you could swear his lips press the lightest kiss into your hair. His entire presence is a little overwhelming. And he smells amazing. It’s such a unique scent that you can’t place. Something light, airy, and delicate. Something that seems to perfectly suit him. It might be your new favorite scent. 

Nothing about the TV show is keeping your attention. It feels like little more than a precursor to what you both know is coming. But, Jeonghan doesn’t make the first move beyond the contact his fingers make with your arm. The first actual move seems like it might belong to you, which is actually kind of exciting. It’s a bit thrilling to know that you’re going to be in charge with this man who’s done nothing but send every one of your senses into overdrive. It’s nice to know that he doesn’t need to be in control of everything. 

Almost as if you’re testing the water, you run your hand across his lap, careful to go slowly. He stops breathing for a second as he seems to wait to see what you’ll do next. It prompts you to run your hand back and forth a few more times, not bothering to move on from the subtle imprint of his dick through his sweatpants. Everything about him stills: his hand freezes on your arm, he doesn’t fidget, and his breathing is incredibly shallow. He starts to get noticeably harder underneath your hand while you keep your eyes trained forward, even though you have no idea what’s going on in whatever show you picked as background noise. There’s something strangely intimate about this in the way it feels a little innocent. 

Finally, when he starts to moan a little with each motion, you pull your hand away. Delight in the way he actually whimpers at the loss of contact. It’s time to actually face him so that you can see what you’re doing to him. Repositioning yourself, you see the look on his face. He’s a little flushed just from the attention and his eyes are wide. Waiting. All he’s doing is waiting to let you set what happens next, like he can’t really believe that this is happening after so much time. It is, though. 

You run a hand through his hair and marvel at how soft it is when it looks perfectly styled. Either his hair just looks like that or he’s got the best products in the world. Neither feels fair when he’s already this stunningly beautiful. Gently, you lean forward to press your lips against his. Let your hand tangle in his hair as you anchor yourself to him. The kiss is at complete odds with you slowly rubbing him through his pants. There’s a little bit of desperation and you’re not even sure which of you it’s coming from. All you know for sure is that his lips are so soft that they feel like clouds and he doesn’t even fight you for control when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just meets whatever pace you set. He really is happy with whatever you give him. 

Your free hand winds down his body and doesn’t waste any time slipping into the waistband of his pants. When your hand wraps around his cock, he tries to pull away from the kiss, but you don’t let him. The moan that comes from you running your thumb over his tip gets caught up in your lips. You pull your hand out just long enough to spit into your palm and return it to the inside of his pants. Jeonghan does break the kiss when your hand wraps around his cock and strokes the first time, a hiss coming out of his mouth. 

“Are you still sure you’re okay?” you ask, but it’s almost more of a tease. 

“Fuck,” he hisses out. “Please don’t stop. Please.”

Hearing him nearly begging like that is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Never could you have imagined you would have this man like putty beneath your hands. It’s going to your head a little bit and then it hits you. You wonder if you can make him come just like this. Wonder how that would feel to have that kind of power over him. 

So, you do the only logical thing, and decide to test it out. You kiss him again, fierce and messy and desperate. Keep a steady rhythm of stroking him. He’s a squirming, writhing mess under your touch and it’s like he doesn’t even remember what to do with his hands. It’s actually turning you on as well to know that he wants you this bad. That nothing more than your lips and his touch are going to send him over the edge. It’s obvious when he starts getting close because he works harder to break the kiss. Can’t seem to catch his breath. You take a little pity on him and kiss across his jaw. Even pull away to watch him as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he whimpers.

“So come,” you direct.

“I can’t come in my pants like a fucking teenager,” he protests. “Please, I’m begging…”

“I want you to come for me, Jeonghan. Right now. Exactly like this. Come for me and show me how desperate you’ve been to have my hands on your cock,” you instruct.

“Fuck,” he draws out. “Fuck, I can’t…I’m gonna…”

His release comes almost out of nowhere, so hard and heavy that it coats your hand as you continue to stroke him through the release, coaxing every last bit from him. Once he’s spent, he collapses back against the headboard of the bed and you see any tension drain from his body. You pull your hand from inside his pants and wipe it off on them. Thankfully, he doesn’t even seem to protest. 

While his breathing steadies, you shift and get off of the bed. He slowly opens his eyes and tracks your movement. Only swallows a little hard when you start to undress without taking your eyes off him. Sometimes, this part makes you a little self conscious. It’s much easier now, though, knowing you had just made Jeonghan come in his pants. That’s an ego boost you never expected to get. His breath stutters when you even remove your bra and panties, leaving yourself completely exposed before him. His eyes go somehow even wider when you get back onto the bed and position yourself in front of him. He reaches out to touch you, but you slap his hand away.

“Oh, no, no,” you chastise softly. “No, my little demon, you are going to watch now.”

“Watch?” he asks. 

“Yes, watch,” you confirm and study his face. “Don’t you want to watch me get myself off? Don’t you want to watch me show you exactly what it is that I like?” 

“F-fuck that’s…wow,” he stutters out. 

You lean back, using one hand behind you on the bed to brace yourself. You spread your legs open to show him the way your pussy already glistens a little. The kissing and the feel of bringing him over the edge like that really turned you on. It’s a little bit of a first for you. Running a finger up your entrance, you collect some of the wetness there. Do it once more for good measure. And then, still emboldened by what’s happened so far, you reach forward to hold your finger out to Jeonghan. Let it run along his lip until he takes it into his mouth and tastes you. 

“Fuck, you’re so…just, fuck,” he hisses. “Can I…”

“No,” you say and cut him off, pulling your finger back. 

Now that you’ve had a taste of him begging for something, you want to drive him to that again. Want to get him so turned on that he can’t even see straight. You slowly tease at your entrance and watch the way his eyes track each movement. When you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples, he seems like he can’t really figure out where to look. Then, you slide one finger into your pussy and it’s like he can’t see to take his eyes off the motion. You moan, even though it’s nowhere near enough of a stretch, and increase the rhythm. Quickly add another finger and start to fuck yourself just the way you like. Just the way you would when you want to draw out your release a little more than using a toy. You slide your free hand down your body and use it to rub small circles on your clit. Somewhere, the thought of Jeonghan watching you becomes a little secondary. It’s incredibly sexy to know that he’s just watching, but you’re also invested in your own high. You want to do this for yourself as much as to show Jeonghan. Can’t possibly realize that Jeonghan is even more turned on knowing that you’re so lost to your own passion. 

The orgasm washes over you more suddenly than you’re expecting and it takes a moment to catch your breath. It takes another moment to realize that Jeonghan has undressed himself while you were lost in your own world. He isn’t touching himself though and you can’t figure out if he’s still sensitive or just waiting for your permission. It’s hard to avoid the realization that every part of him is beautiful. His body is all lean lines, not overly muscular, yet still looks strong. Even his cock is kind of beautiful in a way, which isn’t fair. It’s not surprising, though. 

“That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen,” he admits, a little breathless. 

“D’you think you can make me come as well?” you tease. “Want to feel my pussy squeeze around you?” 

He nods immediately and it makes you laugh a little. “I know I can. I want…” 

“To taste me?” you offer and his eyes go dark with lust. 

“Can I?” he asks. “Can I actually get a taste? Just your finger wasn’t really enough.” 

“I want to see what that mouth can do when it’s not talking a mile a minute,” you say. “I hope you’re just as good with your tongue.”

It’s obvious that this catches him a little off guard that you’re so confident now with him. So easily fall into telling him exactly what you want him to do. But, you’re very curious to see what his skills are like. The two of you reposition so that he can settle between your legs. His eyes find yours, searching, Maybe asking permission. You nod and he uses his fingers to spread your lips open. He licks up your core and mutters a quiet fuck under his breath at your lingering wetness. The breath against your core sends a slight shiver through your body. 

After all the build up and everything, you don’t really have the patience for him to go slow. So, you tangle your hand into his hair and press his head further into your cunt. Force his nose to brush against your clit. Don’t really stop to consider if it’s too much for him. His moans into you seem to show that they’re not, though. It’s nice to just take what you need and know that he’s enjoying it just as much as you are. When you ask him (read: tell him) to add a finger, he does it without question. For someone that always seems to have a retort for everything, he’s surprisingly quiet now. Nothing piercing the quiet of the room apart from the constant stream of moans from both of you and curses from you as you get closer to your second orgasm. 

The second one hits a lot harder than the first, a fact that you wouldn’t really want to admit to Jeonghan. It’s too obvious to hide, though. You don’t even care. Jeonghan’s tongue is far better than anything you could have dreamed about. Not that you were dreaming about it. (And not that you ever got yourself off in the shower or in your bed, late at night, thinking of the annoying guy who wouldn’t ever seem to leave you alone. Absolutely not.) When you open your eyes again, you find Jeonghan looking at you with awe. There’s nothing smug about his look. It makes your insides go even a little mushier. It’s definitely not the time for those kinds of emotions. 

“Wow,” is all Jeonghan says. 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

“Do you still want to…? I mean, can we still…” he starts.

“Jeonghan, do I make you feel that nervous?” you joke. “You just ate me out and made me come all over your face.” 

He shrugs. “I just don’t wanna press my luck.” 

“Maybe we just stop here then,” you say with a return shrug. “I’m not sure you want it enough.”

“Oh, no, I definitely want it,” he disagrees.

“Are you sure?” you taunt. “Sure you can handle it?” 

That unleashes a side of Jeonghan you haven’t fully seen yet. The next moment, he’s begging you for your pussy. Begging you to show you how much he still wants you. Begging to make up for the fake that he came in his pants just at your touch. Just begging for anything and everything. He even goes as far as to say that he’ll do all the work. It shouldn’t be working for you. It’s kind of lame, the way he just can’t seem to stop himself from running his mouth. And, unfortunately, it’s working for you. You kiss him just to make him stop. 

The kiss immediately turns into something desperate, but you’re not sure which one of you takes it there first. Every new bit of him you get only makes you want even more of him. It’s kind of insane to think you weren’t even sure you liked him when it’s been so easy to fall into this. Jeonghan breaks the kiss and reaches over into his nightstand for a condom. Somehow, he manages to get it on in nearly record speed, despite his nerves about everything else. He doesn’t waste any time in positioning himself, either. You lie back when he spreads your legs open and seems a little drunk on the sight of you. You tap his side with your foot and he shakes his head clear of whatever he was thinking. 

Jeonghan lines himself up at your entrance and presses his tip in. You arch your back, moaning at the initial stretch. It’s immediately better than either of your fingers or his tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in and it makes him snap into you in one swift movement. All you wanted was to be full and you squeeze your walls around him. Direct him to move. The two of you work together to figure out the right pace, knowing that neither of you is likely to last all that long. You’re both a little sensitive from everything in the lead up to this moment. Still, you revel in the way that Jeonghan rolls his hips into you. Appreciate the way that he nearly pulls all the way out before snapping back into you. Moan into the sloppy kiss when your mouths crash together. It’s hard to tell where your own whines start and his moans begin. The sounds all kind of blend together into some kind of weird harmony. 

Where Jeonghan was incredibly vocal when he was begging, he doesn’t seem to have a coherent thought to share now. Yet, his eyes never leave you. Like he’s trying to map each part of your body. It’s too fast for him to learn what you actually like. That’s not what you need, not right now. What you need is to have another release, one that comes at the same time as his own. And that’s exactly what you get when you come hard again just as you feel his thrusts stutter. A moment later, he’s coming into the condom and eventually stilling inside of you. 

The last thing you want is to feel the loss of him inside of you, but you understand that he has to pull out. His breathing is heavy when he rolls over onto his back. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to get out of bed. That it’s a struggle. But, he gets up to dispose of the condom and you hear water running in the distance. He returns a moment later with a wet cloth and starts gently washing you without even asking. He tosses the cloth on his dresser and then collapses back on the bed next to you. Pulls you into his body without a second thought.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you say softly while you’re nestled into him. 

“Like I would let you leave,” he says just as softly.

“Oh, the man that begs for my pussy is going to force me to stay?” you challenge. 

You feel the way his chest slightly rumbles with laughter. “I was hoping you’d let me live for a second.”

“After you not letting me live since we met? Fat chance,” you answer.

“I suppose I deserved that,” he says.

“I really don’t want to leave tonight, though, so hopefully you have more clothes to lend me,” you say.

“You’re gonna have to let me move for that,” he says in return.

“Worst offer I’ve gotten all day, but fine,” you agree and allow him to disentangle from you. 

Once he offers you some clothes, you also get up from the bed to get dressed. Try not to ogle Jeonghan too much as he does the same. He catches you, because of course he does, but surprisingly doesn’t say anything. Only smiles back at you. You help him remake the bed before the two of you go back out into the living area. It occurs to you that you didn’t exactly let your roommate know what you were up to before just heading straight over to see Jeonghan.

A fact that is immediately obvious when you see the texts and missed calls on your phone. Oop.

“Hey,” you call out to Jeonghan. “My roommate, I’m sure you remember him…”

“Yeah, Seungkwan, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, he’s freaking out because I forgot to say I was coming over here,” you say. “I’m just gonna call him really quick to let him know I’m fine and I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Do you want privacy?” he asks and you just laugh lightly.

“Not sure I need it,” you say and the phone is already ringing. Seungkwan answers nearly immediately.

“What the fuck? Are you okay?” he asks instead of saying hello.

“Chill, Kwan, I’m fine,” you answer. 

“Where are you? Your class ended hours ago,” he says.

“Has it been hours?” you ask with some amount of surprise. 

“Wait, where are you?” he asks again, sounding calm but skeptical now. 

“I just…just don’t worry about me for the night, okay? I’ll be home tomorrow,” you say. 

“Switch to video, you whore,” Seungkwan says skeptically.

“Don’t be a weirdo,” you retort.

“Come on! Turn on your camera!” he yells and you pull the phone away from your ear.

“Fucking fine,” you grumble and press the button on your phone before holding it back up to your face.

“I KNEW IT!” he shrieks gleefully. “Who’s shirt is that?”

“Oh, well, it’s…” you stall and look over at Jeonghan. He’s already moving toward you.

“Well?” Seungkwan prompts as Jeonghan leans over behind you so his face shows in the camera.

“It’s mine,” Jeonghan answers and Seungkwan looks like Christmas came early.

“Well, hello Jeonghan,” he says. 

“I promise to take good care of her and send her back in one piece,” Jeonghan says and Seungkwan can’t contain his grin.

“Keep her as long as you like. I’m about to be so rich,” he says, far happier than he should be.

“Goodbye Seungkwan. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say and hang up before he can say anything. 

Once you hang up, Jeonghan gives you an odd look. Like he’s trying to figure out what Seungkwan just said.

“Do I…want to ask?” he finally asks.

You sigh. “Seungkwan started placing and taking bets about me sleeping with you as soon as I mentioned you.” 

“And when was that?” he asks, seemingly not even surprised by the bets. You internally curse.

“After the very first class when you mentioned you joined because you like Legos,” you admit. 

“We could have saved so much time,” he whines and you just shake your head.

“This is exactly how it was supposed to go,” you disagree.

“Maybe,” he concedes. “Should we get some sleep? We can figure everything else out in the light of day.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agree and follow him to bed. 

It’s far easier than it should be to settle into bed with him. Like you’ve done it a million times before. Maybe it’s okay to allow yourself to have the things you want. Maybe this can all be as easy as attaching one block to another until you have something amazing. 

i hope you liked it! and like i said, i'll be back to fix any spelling/grammar errors after the weekend.

taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n , @christinewithluv, @hipsdofangirl, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @lllucere, @vixensss, @soffiyuhh @aidanjoon, @hanniebub, @stormy1408, @lilifiedeans, @hyucksrealm, @joshuaslv, @tinkerbell460 (strikethrough means can't tag)

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Coffee and Other Things

DI!SingleDad!Leon X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: you and Leon have a lil lunch date, but he just can't keep his hands to himself

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, brief fingering, choking, hair pulling, riding, car sex, semi public sex, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, age gap, foul language

WC: 4.1k lol I can't write short things

A/N: lol omg I wrote 2 things in a month?? Woah witchcraft. Yeah yall thought I abandoned this series. Well kind of. I was very unmotivated to write for it but idk I was like fuck it why not, this has been sitting my drafts since September soo. I will warn yall that this is not going to be a constant thing. I'll update when I have inspiration to write for it, so it'll probably be sporadic, but I hope yall enjoy it the same.

If you'd like to keep up with this series (or any of my works) follow @midnightreadinglibrary for updates since I no longer have a tag list and turn on notifications, don't worry, I'll only reblog my written works there

Universe masterlist

God was it hot out here. It was inhumane that's what this was. If there was one thing you hated in this world was having to stand outside in eighty degrees in the summer or thirty degrees in the winter. Right now it was the former, or close to it, anyway. May sure seemed to think so. But the sun burning on your back this early in the morning was not helping. You were praying to the Gods to save you now because this cardigan was going to be the death of you.

You counted the tiny heads standing in line— as best as seven year-olds could anyway. You were missing one chocolate brown-haired head. Weird. Leon hadn't mentioned not bringing Isabella to school today. 

You looked at your wristwatch, three minutes before you had to take your kids inside. You sighed softly, folding your arms over your chest as you kept an eye on your kids, but you also kept some attention ahead, in case you maybe saw that pair that in a matter of weeks had become such an important part of your life. Even if Izzy didn't realize it yet.

But you stood corrected. Your lips curved up at the sight of a tiny Isabella, pigtails and all dragging her leather jacket wearing dad across the playground. He had her tiny lilac backpack hanging from one shoulder and her Rapunzel lunch box hung from his free hand. This was the first time you had actually seen Leon drop her off. Claire— who you had learned was a close friend of Leon's for many years now— would normally drop her off, or Izzy would come strolling into your classroom after drop off so you wouldn't see him either way. And now that you were seeing this for the first time, you couldn't hold in your laughter. 

"I told you I was going to be late!" The little girl fussed as she dragged him. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he wondered what the hell he was raising. "Aunt Claire is never late."

"Yeah, well your daddy got—" shot at last night by the mercenaries of a deranged scientist. Leon bit his tongue and he shook his head at himself. "I got home late. Sorry, I'll try not to be late next time." 

Izzy turned her head to look at him, lips pulled up into a tiny smile now. "It's okay daddy. You'll do better next time." 

She stopped at the end of the line, and he stopped with her. His eyes instantly landed on you at the very front. His eyebrows irked up and his lips curled up, he didn't think he'd actually see you this morning. Fuck, how was it that you looked prettier every time he saw you? He took his eyes away from you to look at Izzy. He crouched down to her height, shrugging her backpack off his shoulder to hand it to her. She happily strapped it over her shoulders and took her lunch box as well. 

"Eat some okay? I know I'm not the best cook but a sandwich and some fruit can't be too bad right?" She nodded eagerly, just happy that her dad had made her lunch. She was about to run off to her friends but he called her back. "Isabella. C'mere for a sec. Listen, I'm picking you up after school, okay? So think where you want to go eat and we'll get ice cream after, yeah?" 

The way his little girl's eyes lit up at his words was better than anything else in this world. Nothing could ever top that. She threw herself around his neck and he couldn't help but smile a bit. 

"Thank you daddy!" 

"Yeah. Love you bee." He rubbed her back softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her hair before he motioned his hand at her. "Okay, go on. Go say hi to your friends." 

Izzy happily ran off, saying a 'Love you!' over her shoulder before she squeezed her way into the line where her girl friends were also standing.  

You couldn't quite hear their exchange, all you could hear was Izzy saying I love you to her dad, but that alone was enough to melt your heart. Your eyes found Leon's and you couldn't help but smile. You watched as he stood to his full height, and the look in his eyes all but called you over to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek softly as you nudged your friend, Emily— the other second grade teacher standing on the line marked next to you. 

"Hey, can you watch my kids for a sec?" You bit your lip and gave her a sheepish look. She looked at you with a confused frown but then her lips parted in realization when she saw Leon. 

"For that? I'd watch your kids the rest of the day. Go girl." She said quietly and nudged you away. 

You laughed softly at her and made your way over to Leon as casually as you possibly could. It was normal for teachers to talk to their parents for casual conversation, right?

"Hey Miss. How's it going?" He was really good at pretending to be cordial, you give him that. He stood at least a foot away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his eyes were anything but innocent as they looked you over. 

"Hi Leon. I see that you brought Izzy today?" You said, arms folded over your chest as you tried to not be so obvious. 

"Yeah. I wasn't home last night when she went to bed, so I figured I'd make it up by dropping her off." He shrugged, but his nose twitched a bit as he remembered the mess of this morning. "Though, I have a feeling neither of us are used to it. She kept saying I was doing this and that wrong, that I was driving too fast, that her left ponytail was too tight. That her right was too high. I'm wondering where she gets all that attitude from." 

You couldn't help but laugh at him. So much so you had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. He clearly didn't see the humor in it and he narrowed his eyes at you. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. She totally gets it from you." You snorted as you remembered the first day you met. You had never met someone so grumpy and with so much attitude. It was part of his charm, you guessed. 

"I'm offended." He gave you a pointed look and shook his head. You shrugged at him, hiding your smile behind your lips. But he had a tiny smile of his own. He looked around him for a second before he leaned down to speak to you. Nothing too scandalous, but his cologne was definitely intoxicating you now. "Listen, I have some free time today so, you wanna get lunch? I'm guessing you have lunch time." 

"I…" You laughed softly, a soft heat creeping up your cheeks at his proposal. "Yeah I have a lunch. I got forty-five minutes at eleven thirty. Pick me up?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. It's a date then." His lips curled up a bit, he hadn't actually ever said that out loud. It sounded nice. A date. With you. 

"It's a date." You said quietly, repeating it to yourself, almost as if you had to say it to believe it. 

Sure, you've had two successful dates with Leon, and you didn't even have to get started on how good your chemistry was. But you were still cautious. Dating hadn't exactly been kind to you and Leon just seemed way too good to be true. You had honestly just expected him to ghost you at some point. 

But you were so glad you were wrong. 

~~~~

"Leon—" You scolded him, but the words leaving your mouth didn't match your hands. You gripped him closer, your fingers clinging to his button down shirt. He only hummed in question. "Leon, c'mon stop that. I only have like twenty minutes." 

You didn't actually want him to stop. Not really. His lips on your neck, licking and lightly sucking at every spot that made you shudder. You sat on his lap, straddling him on the front seat of his Jeep Wrangler. You weren't quite sure how you ended here. One minute you had been sitting with Leon, drinking coffee and eating some cream cheese bagels, talking about your job, his job, his kid, a little bit of everything, laughing and joking for what felt like hours. And then you were here, at an empty parking lot, in broad daylight. 

This was such a bad idea. But the way his lips kissed you and the way his growing hard on brushed against your clothed clit was way too good to say no. 

"Twenty? Fine. I can make you come in five." He breathed into your ear, his hands running up your bare thighs, scrunching up your dress to your hips.

His words alone made you want to come then and there. You breathed out a shaky sigh, eyes closed as you tried to argue that this was a horrible, horrible idea. You were more sensible than this. His hands found your ass, and he squeezed, making you squirm on his lap. Which only made him harder against his jeans. 

"C'mon. Promise I won't go so hard this time." He brushed his lips under your jaw, slightly lifting his hips to make the front of his jeans brush you some more. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please." 

Fuck, the way he sounded begging, begging to fuck you. You didn't need much convincing, but that? That made you pool into your panties. 

"No hickeys, and no bruises," You muttered, remembering you had to wear scarfs in this heat for days to cover the marks his fingers left. Leon smirked a bit at this. "I'm serious. I've never had to cover up bruises before you." 

Leon dug his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back to look at you as one of his hands sneaked under your dress and he kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his thumb over your clit through your panties. 

"I won't bruise you this time." His lips curled up into a satisfied grin when your lips fell open into a silent moan. "I gotta say though, your neck looked so pretty with my fingers all over it." 

He sat up, his free hand pulling you to him by the back of your neck and his lips crashed against yours harshly. He happily took in the moan that left your throat as he thumbed at your clit. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning softly when your fingers threaded his hair. 

He held you against his mouth, his thumb on your clit for what felt like years, you honestly worried you had run out of time. But in reality only a minute had passed. He let go of your head to blindly reach for the console. He groaned softly as he touched around for a second, but ultimately had to pull away to look. He found his wallet, he dug through it with urgency before he tossed it on the passenger's seat.

Your eyes landed on the golden wrapper and you frowned at him. 

"You do remember you came inside last time, right?" You asked with genuine confusion and he could only laugh in response. 

He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before he replied. "I remember. Trust me, I remember. But unless you wanted to sit with my come inside you for the rest of the day. Figured this was best." 

Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out a soft laugh, Leon could only watch you with amusement. 

"Were you hoping to get laid then?" You laughed softly and he only shrugged in response, his eyes never leaving you as he unbuckled his belt. 

"I was hopeful. I was kinda hoping you missed me enough." He chuckled, now watching as you reached your hand to unbutton his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned down to press your lips to his neck. 

"I did." A playful smile fell on your lips as your lips trailed further down. He let out a pleasured sigh that quickly turned into a pained grunt when your lips touched a particular spot below his collarbone. 

“Hmph… Careful baby.” 

You pulled back with furrowed eyebrows as you tugged his shirt aside just enough to see a purple forming on his pale skin, but it looked like a burn almost, a circle with an angry marking.

“What.. What is that? Are you okay?” 

He found the concern in your voice endearing. 

“I got shot last night during an assignment. But I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” He tried to say it as casually as possible, he looked at you with unwavering calmness, you were anything but. 

“You got what?” You almost shouted, it definitely caught him off guard. You swallowed hard as you placed your hands on his chest, almost as if you needed to feel that he was okay. 

“It caught my vest. But it still leaves a bruise. It hurts for a day or two. But I'm perfectly fine.” He knew you weren't convinced, your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips said as much. He sighed, “Can we not.. Do this right now? Please?” 

“Yeah.. Okay.” You still weren't entirely convinced but God were you having a hard time being worried when you could feel him against you. You could yell at him later. 

He gave you a small smile before he kissed you again, not wanting to waste any more time. He was quick to lift you up enough to pull down your panties and tossed them on the passenger's seat. And fuck, the look he gave you when he pulled away was enough to make you soak his jeans, you were sure if it, anyway. His eyes never left you as he spat on his fingers. He needed to watch your face when his fingers touched your clit. And what a sight that was. 

“Oh, you sweet girl,” He taunted, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He parted his lips to match the silent moan you let out, but the look on your pretty face was priceless. “Already so wet for me, hm?” 

All you could do was nod, heated and already breathless with adrenaline. But you couldn't hold back the cry that left your mouth when he slipped his fingers into your wet hole. Your head fell back slightly as you reached to grip his shoulder, just any part of him really. He watched your face carefully, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he buried his fingers to the knuckle, curling them against your most sensitive spot. His fingers worked you for what felt like hours, but in reality it was merely a minute or two. Though by then, the sound of his fingers in and out of your cunt was all he could hear. Other than the sounds leaving your mouth. But you could only take so much of this torture. 

“Please Leon—” God, you sounded pathetic, the way you were so desperately grinding against his hand was equally pathetic. “Need you.” 

Leon was a simple man. If his girl wanted to be fucked he had to comply. There wasn't anything else to it. 

His fingers left you empty in an instant, and you couldn't help but whine at the loss, but you knew you'd get something better soon enough. 

“Do me a favor, darling,” he grabbed your hand and placed it right where his cock was straining against his jeans. You swallowed hard, your chest still rising as you looked at him with big eyes. “Help me here, hm?” 

It took you a second to process his words, maybe you were already cock drunk just on the thought of it. But your shaky hands eventually unzipped his jeans and pulled him out of the confines of his boxers. The sigh Leon let out was almost primal as he messed around with his smart watch. You couldn't quite understand what he was doing but you didn't exactly have the mental capacity to think when his cock was right there. 

“Go on baby, I'm almost done here. You can ride me, can't you?” His words were almost mocking as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your mouth was slightly open as you ran your tongue over your dry lips. 

“I.. I—Yes.” You responded quietly as you slipped the condom on him. Leon sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing as he watched you lean forward, and slowly sank down on his cock. 

Leon leaned back, his lips falling open as you sat on his cock. He swallowed hard, and it took him the very little control he still had left not to force you on his cock. But alas he let you take your time. His hands were tight on your hips as if to encourage you. And it took you a second to adjust but you ultimately lifted yourself before slamming back down on his cock, over and over until you were bouncing on him like that was all you were meant to do in this world. 

“Shit Leon, you feel so—” you were sure you sounded absolutely pathetic, your words broken in between moans as you leaned back until your back touched the steering wheel. 

Christ, Leon sure was loving this sight. 

He adjusted himself under you so that he could ever so slightly lift his hips to meet with yours. He particularly loved this sight because God, this dress, it was so perfect on you. The V cut was low enough for him to see your neck and collarbone perfectly, but of course your entire chest was covered. Unless he pulled the front down.. 

“Fuck, feels so good, I know baby.” He breathed out, watching you through hooded eyes as his hands moved up to your chest, and he pulled the material down enough so that your bra was exposed. He groaned, and it was almost animalistic. “Take this off. Take it off, please.” 

Please. 

God. 

Leon definitely felt the way you squeezed around his cock right then. You kept your grip on his shoulder with one hand as you somehow reached behind you with the other and unclasped your bra with the other. Leon fumbled around with the sleeves of your dress until those were off your shoulders. And the second your bra was out of the way, he grabbed a handful of both of your breasts with both of his hands. And he fucking moaned. 

“Goddamn, you look so pretty like this.” His eyes traveled from where his hands were grabbing at your bare chest, to your exposed neck with your head thrown back as you so desperately fucked yourself on him. He didn't even care about the mess you were most likely leaving on his jeans. “Look at you, using my cock like you fucking own it. Fuck.” 

Even in your delirium, this brought a smile to your face and you were sitting up to look at him. You brought a hand to his face, the sound of his grunts and moans were in your ear and the completely pussy drunk look on his face made you want to come right then and there. 

“Say that again. Please, say it again.” Your words were slurred, breathless as you so desperately chased your release. Leon bit his lip softly, sitting up to meet you halfway. With a tight grip on your ass, he lifted his hips to thrust into you with intensity as if to prove a point. 

“Yes darling, you can fuck yourself on this cock all you want ‘cause it's all yours.” His lips were on your jaw as his free hand held you by the back of your neck. 

You dug your nails into his chest, surely to leave marks as you closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding, skin burning hot to the touch as he held you, each drag of his cock brushing deliciously against that perfect spot. You were so close. 

“Choke me, please.” You pleaded barely above a whisper, nothing short of a whine. And the moan Leon let out at your request was by far the most erotic thing you will ever hear. 

He ran his tongue over his lips as he brought his hand to your neck and wrapped his fingers around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but it definitely was tight enough for you to see white. The lack of blood flow mixed with the tight feeling in your stomach. You could only take so much. 

“Oh my— Fuck. I—” Words were no longer something you knew by then, you were grinding your hips so desperately, and the way you were squeezing his cock, he had quickly learned meant you were so close. 

“Mhmm just like that pretty, come for me, I know you can do that.” His thumb found your swollen clit as he held your throat and he watched with big eyes as your mouth fell open. Leon let out a soft moan that mimicked the one leaving your throat as you squeezed him tightly. Too bad he couldn't actually feel you come on his cock this time. “That's a good fucking girl. Yeah, atta girl.” 

He gripped the side of his seat as he drilled into you, lifting you on and off his cock as he fucked you through you release, and chased his own, of course. You pressed your forehead against his, soft whines leaving your lips at the overstimulation of his jeans rubbing against your clit. But you could hear his soft moans in your ears, his soft praises as he gripped your throat with soft fingers, until he gave you a particularly deep thrust and he held you down on him. The string of curses leaving his mouth as he came were anything but coherent, but fuck did it make you wet all over again to hear him unravel like this, just for you. 

“Shit. You see what you do to me?” He breathed out a laugh, his hand now cradling the back of your hair as he left kisses on your jaw. 

You closed your eyes tight, breathing in deeply, taking on the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with his own scent, and Christ, it was so intoxicating. All of him was intoxicating. You hummed softly and threw your arms around his neck, leaning close to him, just craving to feel his warmth.

“Likewise… Look what you made me do.. I've never..” You swallowed hard, feeling yourself grow heated in embarrassment. 

“What's that?” He pulled back ever so slightly to be able to look at your face, curious by what you meant. He softly tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear when he noticed your flustered face. How he could be so gentle and tender after absolutely wrecking you was always beyond your comprehension. 

“In a car.. You know? I've never..” 

A tiny smile formed on his lips, “Seriously?” 

“Stop. It's just! I don't know. I've never done anything risky like that. Like we could totally get arrested for this.” You almost wanted to curl up into yourself in embarrassment but Leon never let go of you, not once, he simply chuckled. 

“You do know I work for the government, right?” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your embarrassment was quickly gone, to say the least. “Gotta say Miss, I am totally ruining you.” 

And he was indeed. What a pretty thing you always were. And by the time he was done with you, you were a flushed, fucked out mess, your hair tousled and your dress pulled down. But he rather enjoyed seeing you like this. And the things he made you do, the things he made you feel, they were beyond this world. To think you always prided yourself in being rational. 

You were about to respond with one of your remarks when an alarm on his watch went off. You jumped at the sound, panicked for a split second thinking it was the police or something, but you calmed down when you saw him lift his wrist and tapped the screen. He smiled at you with pride, and if you didn't know better you would have thought he even puffed out his chest with pride. 

“Would you look at that, I did make you come in five.”

[mybelovedwoo]

yunho as boyfriend, please 🩷🩷

The long-awaited yunho boyfriend headcanon is here!!!

jeong yunho as your boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

reader x bf!atz

wc. ~ 0.7k

an: i know this took soo long to write, but I actually had a really busy time since I last posted one of these TT but as summer is here now I'll hopefully have more time to write

you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

- the funny golden retriever boyfriend, who never fails to make your mood better and to make you smile (it's his personal goal in his life, to make you the happiest, and he really does)

-just as to everyone, he is your sunshine, your happy pill, the reason you smile every single day

-he is also the  "college boyfriend" kind of vibe, who is the love of your life and will be your husband in the future

-he always texts you no matter what, if his phone is in his hands, then he's most definitely chatting with you. also if he can't say anything else, he'll send you memes (it's one of his love languages)

-loves treating you with gifts, would most definitely bring you flowers on date nights, but don't forget about the bag of snacks and chocolates he always brings you on the first day of your period (he even tracks it on his phone, so he can be prepared)

-he's a gamer boy, so it's no surprise he loves it when you make interest and ask about his game, not even talking about when you ask him if you can play with him

-lots of inside jokes

-he is a big act of service guy. absolutely loves cooking for you or making you coffee before you wake up in the morning

-he never lets you pay for anything, even if you beg him. he thinks it's a gesture he is supposed to do as your boyfriend (at least that's what his father taught him)

 -gets embarrassed very easily when you compliment him, he gets all shy and giggly, sometimes you do it on purpose, just to see his flustered face because it's the cutest

-he communicates problems so well, that you barely ever fight

-carpool karaoke dates, blasting your favorite music and don't care what other people think of you

-this man has endless energy, so he's never tired of doing anything for you or being with you. when you call him, he's right there just for you

-holding hands 24/7, even if it's too hot outside and your hands get all sweaty, he just doesn't care

-he loooves it when you pamper him, with kisses, or caress his back

-he asks for your opinion on everything, if you don't like something then he doesn't like it either. your opinion is the most valuable thing for him

-goofy nicknames that don't even make sense but you can't help but love it

-somehow always knows what you're thinking about. when you feel uncomfortable in a situation, he's right there for the rescue, tho you didn't give him any specific sign, he just knows you too well. or when you come home from work, you haven't spoken yet, but he knows by just looking at you that you had a bad day and ready to cuddle you all night long

-idk he gives off shy kisses vibes with lots of giggles, but when it's really intimate he just holds your face in his big ass hands

nsfw +18!!!

-okaay hear me out, he is probably a switch, but mostly a bottom. he just loves it when you take control, it's his favorite thing

-he would prefer the good old cowgirl position, but anything, where you're on top is his "favorite", at least that's what he says

-but there are times when his dominant side comes out and ohh boy, you are so blessed to experience it

-when he's in that mood, he just rails you with no mercy. he has to let out all the tension and there's no better place than in the bedroom

-he does magic with his long fingers, takes you to heaven then brings you right back to earth

-he likes doing it in a chair with you on top, of course, he likes the closeness and loves holding you during it

- sex with him is anything but boring, yeah it's really sweet with a lot of emotions, but it's also really passionate and sensual. he would recommend new positions and toys all the time, he likes experiencing

-for places, I think he's a traditional in-bed kind of guy, he likes to stay comfortable 

-holds your hand and whispers sweet nothings into your ears, he talks you through it (with a really low and raspy voice)

-you have sex max three times a week, especially after a date night it's an essential

-his libido is quite high since he's a dancer, he can go multiple rounds in one night

-he likes to cuddle after, holds you in his arms. after a couple of minutes, you both just fall asleep right there and then

taglist: @dinossaurz (you can message me if you want to be added or removed)

[bunniesanddeer]

I really really LOVE the Touch chapters with Alastor. You write it so well! Although you have a fic on touch now already I was wondering if I could request something similar?

Persoanlly I think I'd be a really affectionate and touchy person but I simply cannot initiate touch without knowing where to touch, how long, how much pressure and so on. And asking people before hand makes them really confused and tbh I hate having to explain myself and sound needy about it. Idk if it's just me having some weird thing going on.

Anyways, would you consider writing Al with a reader that just got to the hotel and is very straight forward with people about their fear of initiating physical contact during times where reader knows someone would appreciate a hug or pat or any kind of physical contact but reader can't give it them before clearing just how hey want the touch to be.

So Alastor notices that reader acts very affectionate in moments with people who initiate touch (cuddles with Angel on the couch, does Charlie's hair). But at the same time he notices that they shy away and sometimes flinch away when reader touches someone by accident (handing someone something and their hands brush, etc) and apologizes as if they had just burned them.

He goes to figure out why that is and kind of challenges reader to touch him (after him consenting of course) whenever because the struggle and fear amuses him plenty but somewhere deep down he wants them to grow comfortable and confident since that is how their personality is over all and it suits them way better than the cowardly insecure overthinking reader who is too scared to ask for a hug on an especially bad day, even when it could literally save their afterlife.

Just fluff and more physical affection and soft Alastor

You don't have to though! We have already been blessed with some amazing works by you

Would appreciate it to the moon and back if you would take this request (or add another part to your Touch chapters because I am a girl OBSSESSED and starved, hungry for more lol)

Thank you sooooo much for reading and I hope you have a lovely weekend!!!!! <3

Hi! I hope this is something like what you wanted? I had fun writing this. Sorry it took me a little while, haha.

Challenge

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: Fluff, touch sensitive reader/Alastor, slightest tinge of angst

Word Count: 2,839

When you had come to the hotel, Alastor was sure you weren’t going to last long. You avoided eye-contact with others, and your hands constantly fidgeted. You shifted on your feet, and rocked back on your heels constantly. Even when standing in one place, you couldn’t seem to be still. You seemed shifty, and he was sure you would pull something, and he would have to remove you. Alas, he was wrong. You stuck around, even if your weird tendencies only got weirder.

In the several weeks you had been residing in the hotel, not once had you initiated contact with anyone, not that he had seen. Alastor was sure you didn’t like it, until he saw Angel pick you up like a stuffed animal, and make you cuddle with him while watching the television. You had melted into the embrace, nuzzling against the soft fur of Angel’s upper shoulders. So Alastor needed to keep watching, and come up with a new explanation for your behavior.

At some point, Charlie had begged to ‘play’ with your long hair, so the two of you ended up dragging everyone into the sitting room for an impromptu ‘spa’ day. Charlie sat behind you, you were nearly in her lap, braiding one section of hair, and Vaggie was painting your claws. Angel was brushing out Husker’s fur. Niffty and Sir Pentious were talking and looking at the make up laid out across the coffee table. Alastor merely watched, amused by the group's antics every once in a while. 

He watched the way your eyes fluttered when you were embraced by the girls, and the way you seemed so at ease. Nothing seemed particularly amiss. He wondered if you hadn’t been comfortable yet, and had nearly settled with that. That was, until Angel came home, nearly in tears, one day.

“Fuck!” Angel yelled, tossing his phone harshly. It was rare for Angel Dust to have such an outward burst of anger. He always put on a show of being satisfied with his work, even when he clearly wasn’t. When Angel had settled on one of the couches, his face collapsed into his hands. “I’m so fucking tired of Val…”

Angel mumbled to himself as you entered the lobby. You glanced at Angel, and then his shattered phone. You frowned, your soft features looking nearly angry, and then picked up his phone, and made your way to him. Alastor watched from the bar, interested to see how this interaction went.

“Hey, Angie. I uh, I got your phone,” you said quietly. You sat off to the side of the couch, looking out of place, and uncomfortable. 

Angel mumbled something back, and your frown grew more severe. “I uh,” your voice trailed off, and your eyes started darting around. “Do you - do you want, like, a hug? I don’t really know what you need right now, I’m sorry.”

Alastor watches as Angel turns his head and whispers something to you. He doesn’t seem confused, not like Alastor is. He is clearly missing something. His eyes narrow, and he watches as you crawl up on the couch and awkwardly settle yourself against Angel’s side. 

How bizarre! How could you possibly not know what he needed? You were a very empathetic person, always looking out for others, and you liked being held, clearly, so how would you lack this kind of knowledge.

Alastor decides to confront you about it, at a later time. He needed to know everything about this. Perhaps it would be useful!

The next day, Alastor decides to try and get you to touch him, and then go from there. (It had been a little while since he had decided to ‘wing’ something like this. How exciting! You weren’t a bore at all!) His best bet would be to invite you to assist him for the day, so he invites you to when you’re heading down the stairs that morning.

“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for! How are you this morning, dearest?” He settles his hand on the banister, near where yours is resting, and waits.

“Oh! Good morning Alastor. I’m doing okay. What is it you needed me for?” Your smile is gentle and your demeanor open, even if you can’t keep eye-contact. 

“I was wondering if you would like to assist me today? We haven’t had much ‘bonding’ time as you and the others! I was hoping to rectify that,” he responds. He keeps his normal flair and watches you giggle at him.

“Of course, Al. It’s not like I had much going on today.” You pull back from the banister and twist to look at him better. “What do you have in mind?”

Alastor merely nods, and starts leading you down to the kitchen. “I was thinking you could assist me with breakfast, and then we can do some minor paperwork! We’ll decide what to do after that.”

You happily agree, and trail after him, leaving just enough space so you can’t ump into him. 

“We are going to make french-toast, fried green tomatoes, and ham. Should be simple enough, dear!” He snaps, and the two of you are wearing aprons. You let out a surprised laugh, and smile up at him.

“I will never get over how cool that is!” 

He waves you off, and starts pulling things out of the cabinets. He hands each one to you, waiting for you to make contact. 

Then it happens.

You jerk your hand back so fast that the whisk he’d been handing to you falls to the floor with a clatter. Your whole body seems to shrink in on yourself, and your expression collapses.

“Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You start rambling apologies, and it makes Alastor’s head cock to the side.

“Why are you sorry, dear?” His voice lilts with just the slightest amount of amusement, but you don’t seem to catch on to it. 

“I- I touched you! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to do it appropriately, and I’m sorry! You have more boundaries than the others and I just-” Your rambling starts to annoy him, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrow.

“I would tell you, if I had a problem with it,” he starts. “You don’t normally have a problem. Why is it a problem now?”

You frown, harshly. It is the first time he has seen such a negative emotion on your face. (Something in him is unsettled at the sight. He ignores it, as he often does). “What do you mean? That’s not the same!”

Alastor is now genuinely confused. It is absolutely the same! How could it not be?

You seem to catch onto his confusion, and a small growl rips from your throat in frustration. “I’m okay with people touching me first, because that’s initiating contact, and they lead the whole time. It’s easier to understand what people want, and where it is okay to touch, based on how they feel, and how they are touching me. But, but when I do it first, it’s hard to know what’s okay! I don’t have someone to mimic, and it’s- it’s hard!” Your face contorts further, and you’re palpably angry. 

“All these social rules, and stuff can be so hard sometimes! It’s easier to just not do it! How can I hurt anyone if I don’t give myself the opportunity, you know?” You sigh, and drop your upper body on the kitchen island’s counter. “It sucks,” you say, your voice muffled by the counter.

Alastor feels a modicum of sympathy. You nearly have the exact opposite problem to him. You want to touch other, craving that closeness, but don’t know how to go about it. He would rather go without it, but knows exactly how to use touch on others, especially to get what he wants.

His mind whirls with thoughts of how pathetic you seem like this. You are normally so confident! Why let this silly worry prevent you from being the best you can be? His thoughts settle on a plan before he can really acknowledge it. 

“Alright then, dearest!” Alastor smacks the counter, drawing your attention. “I have an idea. A challenge, if you will. To help you get over this silly fear of yours, I challenge you to this; you must touch me every day, at least once. Each touch must be a different kind than the last, and it can’t be for the same reason.” Alastor tilts his head at you, waiting for you to take the bait.  “You are allowed to do it without asking, and it can be as big or small as you are comfortable with, but you need to do it. If you can do this, to the point where you are comfortable hugging the others without worrying about “hurting” them, then you win.”

Your head pops up from the counter, and you narrow your eyes at him. “What do I win?”

Alastor feels his grin widen. Yes, you would be fun to play with. “A small favor. Something simple. And confidence. It’s a shame that you are being held back by something so simple!”

You huff, but nod your head. “Fine. I touch you, once a day, unsolicited, and it’s gotta be different each time, or something like that. I win when I can hug everyone else without being touched first.”

“There’s my girl,” he says, watching your whole body stiffen in response. He laughs, and picks up the whisk from the floor. “Let’s continue with breakfast, yes?”

The first time you touch him is during a “movie night” that Charlie sets up the next day. She demanded Alastor participate, despite his well known hatred of television, and everything to do with that technology. You had silently approached him as the group set up pillows and blankets on the floor around the TV, and against the couches. The two of you watched idly, before you spoke up.

“Can I sit with you,” you asked softly. 

“Of course, dear! Good company might make this terrible idea more… palatable,” Alastor grumbled. You smile at him, and laugh a little. 

“Oh, the horror. Sitting with your friends, and relaxing,” you respond, tilting your head at him. His static surges for a moment, but he says nothing in response. You laugh again, although he’s not quite sure why.

When the group finally gets settled in for the movie, and the lights are turned off, he watches you shift about in your seat. Your eyes dart around the room, and your hands fidget. It takes a few minutes, the intro to the movie already going, for you to finally look at him. You scoot closer to him, more than halfway across the couch. You wait another moment, and Alastor’s eyes don’t move from your form. He just watches you fidget with amusement. Finally, you speak up, barely a whisper.

“Hey, can- can I lean on you?” You are so hesitant, and it makes his eyebrows furrow, just the slightest. 

“Of course, dear,” he whispers back, his static barely a murmur. Your body slackens, all the tension drawn out. 

“Oh, good,” you mumble, pressing your small form against his side. It takes a few moments, but then you are completely calm against him, head pressed into his arm, your hands against his waist, and knees curled up under you and tucked against his thigh. You mumble something about him being warm, and all Alastor can do is agree. 

You are so very warm, and it has him almost anxious. He isn’t sure what about, as the room is calm, and the silly animated picture-show is easily ignored. You are so very warm, and he can feel each breath your body breathes in. He can nearly hear the soft pound of your heartbeat, even over the picture-show. His nose twitches at your scent. He will have to take a far-too hot bath later to remove it. It’s fine, though. It’s all part of the game. 

Alastor ignores that you’ve fallen asleep on him. It’s for the best.

The next day, you offer him a “fist-bump”, which he doesn’t understand. You laugh, and explain the gesture, and show him how it looks.

“You do it when you did something cool, or when you’re having fun with your friends.” You smile at him and constantly gesture with your hands while you talk. It keeps his attention quite easily. “Ah, here, let’s see if you understand. What was the last cool thing you did? It can be whatever.”

Alastor thinks over the last few days exploits, and shrugs. “I made a sinner cry by merely looking at him, this morning.” 

You go stock still before bursting out laughing. “Really? Oh my gosh. Seriously, fist-bump,” and you offer your knuckles. Alastor hesitantly returns the gesture, knocking your hands together. However clumsily it was done, it makes your smile wider. “Nice! Yeah, that’s exactly how you do it!”

If he tries the gesture on the others later on, he never tells you. Charlie got a kick out if, though. He refuses to tell her who told him about it. 

One day, you’re assisting Niffty cleaning, but can’t reach a spot way too high for either of you to get. Neither of you can find a ladder, and Alastor is watching with a far too delighted smile. When you spot him, you smile mischievously.

“Alastoorrrrr,” You call, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Come here. Please.”

He strides over, not letting his hesitance show. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Can I get up on your shoulders? I need to be able to reach that spot with the duster.” You point up at where you need to dust. He looks over at it, and realizes you are definitely not getting  up there without help.

Alastor cocks his head at you, thinking over the logistics, and then nods. He kneels down, and feels you pull yourself onto his back, propping each leg over his shoulders. When you are still, hands gently around his neck, he stands up straight. He feels you wobble and then balance with a laugh. Your hands let go of him. He feels each breath and laugh and words from you gently vibrate his head with how close the two of you are. 

“I’m so tall! Hahah! This is great! I wish I was always this tall, haha!” You keep laughing, and readjust your duster, pointing at your destination. “Onwards, my steed!”

Alastor rolls his eyes at your antics, but obliges, standing closer to where you need to be. Niffty is squealing, and it’s making you laugh harder. Alastor joins in at some point, and then the three of you are running around the first floor of the hotel, terrorizing the others with your hijinks.

Alastor thinks, privately, that you make him laugh over the little things, something that he hasn’t done in a while. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s several weeks after the challenge had been initiated, that he finds you hiding in a side-closet. Alastor isn’t sure how he knew you would be there, but the discovery throws him. You’re crying. Nearly bawling your eyes out, and you look uncomfortable with the way your small body is curled into a tight ball, surrounded by cleaning supplies. 

“Oh, hey, Al,” you say, your voice rough. “How’d you find me?”

“Just needed to follow the sound of despair, apparently, my dear,” he responds without a thought. He nearly winces when his words process, and he shakes his head. “I’m not sure, dear. Whatever are you doing in there?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something upset me, but I can’t remember what.” Your voice trails off, and you look at where you have situated yourself. You huff, and pull yourself out with a grunt.

You dust off your knees, and the back of your pants, frowning. “Sorry you had to see that, haha.” You try to muster a smile, but Alastor sees right through it. “Right.”

Alastor simply watches as you shut the closet door, and try and calm yourself down. 

“Gosh, I feel dumb.” You frown at the ground, and sigh. “Alright. Can I have a hug?”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. Oh. You were finally ready to hug him. How interesting. 

“Of course, dear.” He opens his arms, not even bothering to check for others seeing the interaction. You rub your face, and then step between his arms. You wrap yourself around him, loose at first, and then you embrace him hard. His arms fall around you, and he pulls you in close. His head settles on top of yours. 

You are still so warm, and you smell wonderful; something comforting, something familiar. Your heart thrums against your ribs, and he can feel it pounding. His ears twitch at every soft sound. 

This is nice. Although there is still time, part of him mourns the day you are ready to win his challenge. He supposes he can enjoy each little bit of connection the two of you have, until then. 

Taglist: @numetalnerd2007 @girl-nahh-two Remember, you can be added to my taglist by replying to the tagged post on my page!

[m0llygunn]

Apologies and Promises (eddie munson x fem!reader)

Part 3 to Same Old Song and Dance 01 / 02 Summary: Hurt feelings hidden under the shallow guise of anger and indifference, in an inebriated state there’s no choice but to face the layers of truth.

Tropes: enemies to lovers (kind of), mean stubborn idiots in love, honestly idk at this point. Warnings: 18+! mature language, ‘bullying’, forcible wrist holding, pet names (princess, sweetheart, angel, baby), mentions of oral (m receiving), angst, alcohol consumption, vomit mention. Author’s note: I am resisting the urge to over explain why theres no smut and this chapter was needed to progress feelings (i know smut is a selling point IM SORRY... but soon i swear it'll be back). wc: 7.2k+

tags: @needylilgal022 @tlclick73 @ropickle @suethh @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @emma77645 @yujyujj

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You didn’t wait around for him to show but you also didn’t expect to have to wait around for him to show.

You’re not disappointed. Why should you be? You didn’t want him to pick you up anyways. 

If anything, you’re pissed. 

He relentlessly badgered you last night about it. Wouldn’t leave until you agreed to let him drive you to school. He was so insistent, that he nearly slept on your floor using that stupid notebook as a pillow.

You’re not disappointed. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Want me to knock him out?” Steve offers and you can’t help but laugh. 

Steve was dropping off his coworker-turned-best friend, Robin, when you were walking into school. He’s a close family friend— and Nancy’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, so you happily stopped for a chat. 

“Steve. I hate to break it to you but Munson’s a veteran school fighter. He might not win every fight but he’s definitely been in more fights than you.” You say, patting Steve on the cheek as he comically deflates before you.

“Hey! I won the last fight I was in and I’ve been working on my biceps, can’t you tell?” He says, flexing his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, watching Steve flex his unnoticeably larger arms until he rounds up his antics and leans back against his car. “Your dad at that work conference thing too?” You ask, curiously wondering if it really is a work trip your dad’s on right now. 

“Absolutely. Any chance to get away, right?” Steve says with a somber laugh. 

“I know the feeling...any chance.” You reply, nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs. “Might throw a party, might not.” He says indifferently. You perk up at the idea of a party. It’s always the same crowds that show, you know the list of attendees like the back of your hand.

“You should, I can get Nance to come along, maybe you can rekindle.” You say, hitting Steve’s arm. This could be to his benefit too, Nancy has been bringing him up again recently and that’s always the catalyst to the ‘on again’ portion of their relationship.

“You got some kind of insight?” Steve replies, eyes studying you.

You purse your lips, choosing your words wisely. “Can't say. Bad enough I already told you my business, can’t tell you her business too, Stevie.” 

Steve smiles, shaking his head, accepting your answer because he knows that’s as close as he’ll get to you spilling Nancy's secrets. 

He knows all about your rivalry with Munson, and as much as he doesn’t like the guy, he was actually the first one who suggested sleeping with him quite some time ago. It was a joke of course… yet here you are. You figured he deserved to know that he was some sort of prophet, so you filled him in. Not in as much detail as you did with Nancy, but you told him the gist of it. 

Your conversation with Steve simmers to a lull, both of you watching over the crowd of students funnelling from the parking lot into the school. You’re not explicitly looking for it, but you can’t help but notice the lack of a certain obnoxiously loud van. 

“You’re good, right?” Steve asks, shoulder bumping your own.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“You sure?” He asks again, turning towards you enough to gauge your reaction. You shrug your shoulders.

“Maybe a little embarrassed.” You say, shifting back and forth on your feet, eyes still flickering over the bustling parking lot. 

“Don’t be. Fuck him.” He says making you snort a laugh.

“Fuck him?” You question, smirk playing on your lips.

“No! I mean, unless you want to. But he did stand you up so…” Steve says trailing off. You try to laugh it off but it sounds more like a scoff. 

“Yup. Eddie Munson stood me up.” You say, words rolling off your tongue in a confusing cross between regret and hurt even when you meant for it to be a joke. A laughable comment between two friends who know how you and Eddie interact, who know he’s nothing more than a nuisance to you, nothing more than an incessant house fly that just won’t quit circling you. 

You never thought you’d be saying that in this lifetime. You never thought he’d have the opportunity to stand you up. 

You tell yourself you’re not disappointed, but the words sure do taste like it. 

You shrug your shoulders, shaking off your thoughts. “I should go, bell’s about to ring.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was during your second period math quiz. A timid, curly headed freshman knocked on the door interrupting the silence of the room. 

Mrs. Rotman stood from her desk, crossing the room, engaging in a whispered conversation with the boy. She turned to look around the room, eyes flitting over the students before landing on you. She turned back to the boy, whispered something to him and sent him on his way. 

You tried to pretend you were busy doing your quiz but it was hard with her eyes focused on you as she walked in your direction.

“Honey, your fathers in the office for you. Something about a family emergency. Don’t worry about the quiz, sweetie.” She whispered, leaning down to your level with sullen eyes that made your heart rate pick up.

“Family emergency?” You questioned anxiously. 

“Yes dear, go on and head down to the office.” She said, patting your back. 

Leaving behind your quiz that you barely had a chance to start on, you quietly let yourself out of the class. 

Speed walking down the hall, opening the door to the stairwell with enough force for the sound to echo against the cement walls and linoleum floors, you hurry to descend the stairs. With your mind busy, rifling through what potential family emergency would bring your father back to town, you didn’t even notice him standing by the stairwell exit until you stepped down onto the landing. 

There’s a moment before he looks at you. A moment where your heart beats faster. A moment where you’re flooded with scary feelings. A moment were you remember last night. And a moment were you remember this morning.

“Oh for god's sake.” You groan, leaving that moment behind, churning everything into a genuine annoyance because you fell for such a stupid trick. 

“Princess, funny seeing you here. Daddy’s been waiting.” Eddie says, smirk plastered on his face, waiting with his back against the wall, trying to exude some sort of coolness that he doesn’t possess. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You spit, burning hot from the inside out. Eddie deflates in front of you, smirk dropping as he steps away from the wall towards you.

“No?” He says, almost like he’s asking you. 

“Why the fuck would you think this was okay?” You sneer, voice raising in volume. He shrinks further.

“Just wanted to see you.” He shrugs, eyes falling to the ground.

If he 'wanted to see you', he wouldn’t have stood you up. 

“You wanted to see me?” You scoff bewilderedly.

“Yeah, and apologize for this morning.” He says, eyes flickering up to you.

You spin on your heels, ready to explain the situation to Mrs. Rotman and go back to finishing your quiz. You don't want to hear an apology for that.

“Shit— Princess, come back!” He calls after you. You hear feet clambering, catching up to you just as you clear the first set of stairs. His grasp captures your wrist and you get the eeriest sense of deja vu.

“Princess, c’mon, let me apologize.” He says, voice pleading as you try to tug yourself free.

“No. You can apologize to Mrs. Rotman’s math class for interrupting everyone during the quiz.” You huff, using all your weight to try and free yourself. 

“No, let me apologize to you.” He insists. You feel your heart rate pick up and in an instant you spin, startling Eddie with your fast movement. 

“Do you think this is funny, Eddie?” You spit, brows furrowed, face flushing hot in anger.

With his mouth pulled in a flat line, he shrugs. 

You know he's hardly phased by your spitfire and you step closer to up the ante. 

“No, seriously? Are you having fun, Eddie? Answer the question.” You say, burning your gaze into his. 

He doesn't indulge you in an answer, he just looks at you with round eyes. He doesn't cower, he doesn’t spit heated words back, he just remains looking at you with his stupidly big eyes. You're not even sure if his disposition is meant to soothe you, but it does and you hate it. It irons out nearly every wrinkle of anger and you hate it. 

“I know none of this matters to you, Eddie, but it matters to me.” You say, mustering up every blazing emotion you have left in you but it comes out too gentle to be anger.

“What matters to you?” He asks quietly, his face softening, eyes getting impossibly rounder. His grip on your wrist loosens as he steps closer to you. 

You press your lips closed, breathing deeply to compose yourself. Your sentiment is ambiguous, you recognize that. Whether is was purposeful or not is a mystery to even you. You wouldn't admit this matters, whatever this is between you and Eddie, never. You couldn't.

Even if you didn't leave space for ambiguity, you know what he's asking right now. Does he matter to you, does this matter to you?

“School, idiot.” You say quietly. You cover ambiguity by shutting him down and embellishing it with an insult. It's a lie, you both know it. It’s an orchestrated move at this point; he steps right, you step left.

He moves in closer to you, toe to toe, his chest less than arm's length away. His grip on your wrist slides down, stopping just before your palm, inches away from being a hand hold.

“You're only upset because I took you away from your quiz?” He asks quietly, amusement hinting in his tone. His eyes flicker to your lips.

“Yes.” You reply flatly. You lick your lips instinctively and you mentally scold yourself.

“No, you're not.” He laughs softly, eyes only watching your lips now. “You're really that desperate to finish a math quiz?” He asks, amusement becoming forthright.

He does think this is funny and it makes your blood boil. 

“Stop doing that.” You sneer but it comes out weak.

“Stop doing what?” He asks, eyes still unmeeting of yours.

His overconfidence and arrogance buzzes around in your head, spurring on your anger. You feel cornered by him calling your bluff and nothing good has ever come from that, especially when your heart is beating so fast you can't hear your own thoughts.

“Assuming you know me, Eddie. You don’t.” You snap, hammering your words into him like nails in a coffin, punctuating your words with a tug of your wrist but his grasp hardens, not letting you go.

He finally looks up at you, eyes meeting your gaze and you can tell your words stung by the mirrored reflection of hurt. He looks taken aback. Whatever he thought was about to happen, you pulled it out from under him like a mean trick and hurt switches to anger.

“So you’re really only upset because you’re here?” He scoffs, brows pinching.

“I just fucking said that.” You spit back.

“And you’re not at all upset because I didn’t pick you up this morning?” And that's all he has to say to send you into a flighty panic. You won't look truth in the eye, you can't.

“Eddie. Let go.” You seethe, tugging your wrist harshly. You bring your other hand to his in an attempt to pry his fingers off. His grip isn’t enough to hurt you, it’s simply unrelenting, a desperate attempt to finish this conversation.

"Princess—" He starts but you interrupt him, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to give him another opportunity to throw your own feelings in your face.

"Let go." You say, your volume raising out of desperation.

“Fine. Just fucking relax for a minute, Jesus Christ.” He groans, when you start swatting at his forearm. His own annoyance rises and it pisses you off because what does he have to be annoyed about? He’s not the one that got stood up. 

“I am relaxed!” You shriek, squeezing your eyes shut and stamping your foot. 

Eyes still closed, you listen to your own voice echoing off the walls, forcing you to hear yourself. It sounds like a reverb of hurt between the two of you. Despite the meaningless message your words attempt to convey, it sounds like a slip of honesty, a slip of your true feelings and how he’s affected them. It sounds tears short of being an angered cry.

A beat passes before the echoes subside, leaving the two of you in silence.

“Princess.” Eddie whispers softly. His voice isn’t loud like yours, it doesn’t vibrate off the walls but it still echoes in your consciousness, occupying a space hugged tightly next to your heartbeat. 

You feel fingertips ghost over your cheeks, delicate in nature despite residing in the antagonistic warland that you and Eddie have fostered together. Your heart catches in your throat and you hate it. 

Your face pinches in its default anger. You ready yourself to scold him, but when you open your eyes and all you see is soft, warm brown staring back at you, it doesn’t come. You hate it. 

He closes his grasps on your face, both hands holding you gently by the jaw. Both hands.

Your wrist set free, you pull away, storming back down the stairs. He steps forward, you run away— another orchestrated move.

Hearing yourself is too much, you need air. You need somewhere where your own thoughts can't reverb like your words against cement and linoleum. You need something to get you thinking straight.

Scuffing sneakers echo behind you as you clear the staircase, cross the foyer, and push open the door to the parking lot. You expect a hand around your wrist again but it doesn’t come. 

You slow to a walk and so does he, his steps crunching on the pebble covered pavement as he trails behind you quietly.

You round the corner of the building before leaning against the wall, expectant hand held out towards Eddie.

He tentatively raises his arm, fingers grazing yours, palm just barely ghosting your own, before you smack him away.

“No you idiot, cigarette.” You say, exhaling deeply. 

He mumbles an embarrassed apology before digging through his pocket.

“Here.” He says quietly, passing over his carton of camels.

You pull one out, placing it between your lips, Eddie’s eyes watching your every move. Flickering the lighter that was tucked into the empty space of the box, you light it up, smoke pluming from the corners of your lips as you take your first drag. Eddie swallows harshly, lost in thought.

“Well?” You snap, his eyes fleeting back to yours. 

“R-right. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up this morning, princess. I’m really really sorry.” He says softly, strumming the chords of your heart with his words. You hate it.

“Why should you be sorry about that, I didn’t want you to anyways.” You say, trying to sound indifferent. You don’t though. You hear your own voice just like you did in the stairwell and you sound like a little kid who hasn’t quite mastered the art of fibbing. It’s a jejune lie, not even a good one.

“I said I would though, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He says, round eyes set on you.

The sun glimmers against his hair making the wavy brown strands look golden, a perfect match to the gold in the eyes staring at you right now.

He’s genuinely sorry, you believe him, and you hate it.

Continuing on your juvenile streak, you pocket his lighter before handing back his carton. You know he sees you do it but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Whatever, Eddie.” You mumble, taking a drag from your cigarette. 

You let your head fall against the brick behind you, eyes scanning thoughtlessly over the surrounding thick tree line. Eddie takes a step, his shoulder hitting the wall as he leans against it, still facing you. 

“Don't you wanna know where I was?” He asks carefully, a testing tease lingering around his words.

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway.” You retort, folding your arms over your chest, your burning cigarette skillfully held out to not get ash on yourself. Eddie exhales a light laugh before leaning into you. 

“Well, princess.” He starts, leaning in even closer. “I accidentally slept in because I was too busy staying up all night thinking about this girl who gave me the best head of my life.”

“Gross.” You scoff, hiding your smile by taking another drag.

“Fuck yeah. It was certified sloppy toppy. I think I was reborn yesterday, died and got as close to heaven as I ever will.” He says, body twisting so his head knocks against the brick wall dramatically. 

“Now you're just sucking up.” You grimace, taking another drag.

He laughs softly before the both of you fall into a quiet lull. You partially expected him to make some kind of joke out of ‘sucking up’ but he doesn’t. Only the sound of trees blowing in the wind can be heard, along with scattered chirps of birds in the distance.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks, breaking the silence. You let your eyes flicker to him before focusing back on your barely burnt cigarette. You drop it, stomping it out under your shoe. It was a waste of a cigarette, but Eddie doesn’t say anything.

“I wasn’t mad at you.” You reply, facing towards the tree line again. 

“Okay, princess.” He sings, clearly not believing you. “But everything aside… we’re good?” He asks, watching you carefully.

“Eddie.” You exhale. That’s a big thing for him to ask of you and he doesn’t even realize it. How can you say that everything between the two of you is good when… What even is there between the two of you? Are you even friends? It's another truth you're not willing to face.

“Princess, tell me we’re okay or else you’ll keep me up another night.” He says, slouching his shoulders. 

“You’re being dramatic.” You laugh. He steps closer to you, hand raising and grasping a piece of your hair. You watch in your periphery as he swirls it between his fingers.

“I’ll never get another wink of sleep, I’m begging you. Tell me we’re okay or tell me how to fix it.” He says, tiptoeing even closer to you.

“Eddie.” You laugh again, shaking your head. The hair between his fingers falls but he’s quick to reach for the strands that fell into your face, skillfully tucking it behind your ear.

“All I’m asking for is your forgiveness. What d’you say, angel?” He whispers. You turn your head, looking at him skeptically with raised brows. 

“Angel? I think that’s hardly a fitting name.” You scoff.

“Trust me, it’s fitting. After last night.” He says, hand retreating from you to grab his heart dramatically, throwing his body back against the brick wall in a swoon. 

“Suck up.” You say trying to hide your amusement. You watch him as he continues his antics, biting your lip to hide your smile. 

He turns to you, looking up through his lashes, feigning a faux innocence.

“So what d’ya say, princess?" He questions, quirking a brow at you. "Want me to kiss it better?” He asks with a deep grin, eyes amusedly awaiting your response. 

You pause, not necessarily thinking about his offer but more so distracted by the way the sun reflects off of his eyes making them glow golden again.

He takes your pause as a yes, stepping into you, hands grabbing behind your ears, cradling your neck. He presses sloppy kisses all over your cheeks and up to your forehead, all while you protest through giggles. It’s sickeningly sweet. Truly sickening. You hate it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Why’d you ask my friends where I was yesterday, princess? Are you, like, obsessed with me?” Eddie mocks into your ear startling you.

“Oh no.” You groan to yourself, flashing Nancy a preemptive apologetic look. 

“Princess, d’ya happen to have a lighter? Mine seems to have gone missing.” He says, moving on from his original remark, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

“No, sorry. I don’t smoke, it’s a dirty habit.” You say flatly, keeping your focus on your lunch and Nancy sitting across from you.

“Oh, that’s crazy I could have sworn I saw you hanging out in the back of the school with some guy smoking earlier? I must have been mistaken.” He says, arm wrapping around your shoulder as he throws one leg over the cafeteria bench, straddling it. 

“We weren’t ‘hanging out’.” You scoff.

“Right, right. I was groveling, my bad, princess.” He laughs. 

You look up at Nancy and she’s shaking her head, lips pursed tightly, holding back her ‘I-told-you-so’ smile. Eddie doesn't typically bother you at lunch, so to Nancy, this very much looks like him 'getting worse'.

“Eddie, don't you have somewhere else to sit?” You say, shrugging his arm off your shoulder. 

“What? Can’t come have lunch with my girl?” He teases, scooting closer to you, his knee pushing against your thigh, your shoulder practically resting against his chest. 

“I just barely forgot about the stunt you pulled earlier, you’re pushing your luck, Munson.” You warn.

“Don’t call me that.” He says flatly.

“Munson? That’s your name, isn’t it?” You laugh.

“Nope, not to you it isn’t.” He replies flatly, grabbing a grape off your lunch tray before you can stop him. 

“Is there a reason you’re here?” You say, his arrogance pinching at your agitation.

“Lighter.” He sings, eyes sparkling with amusement meeting yours, stealing another grape in the process. Turning his head, he focuses on Nancy. “Wheeler, how’s it going?”

“Good.” She laughs, still shaking her head. 

“Heard you tattled on me to Princess.” He says, eyebrows raised, a smile playing on his face.

“Eddie, leave her alone.” You huff. You feel his hand raise up your back, settling slowly, before rubbing back and forth. He leans in closer to you, face brushing against your hair.

“Gotta share the attention sometimes, princess.” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles the shell of your ear and you feel your heart rate pick up.

You sit up straighter, Eddie’s chin knocking into your shoulder as you reach into your front pants pocket.

“Lighter. There. Leave.” You say, finding his free hand to push it into his hold. 

“Good girl.” He teases, quickly pulling you closer to him with a hand on your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You feel yourself burning hot and it takes everything in you not to hit him back with some sort of insult but you know if you do he’ll just stick around for longer. 

He gets up from the bench with a coy wave of his fingers and a polite nod to Nancy, disappearing into the crowd of the lunch room.

“Nancy, if you say ‘I told you so’, I swear to god.” You say, holding back your smile as you watch your friend’s eyes burst with amusement. 

“I wasn’t going to say I told you so!” She laughs. 

“I can see it in your eyes Nancy, I know you’re dying to say it.” You reply.

“I won’t say it… but I will say that you’re blushing pretty hard right now.”

“Out of embarrassment! That was embarrassing, Nancy.”

“People aren’t usually that smiley after being embarrassed.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie kept his eyes on the prize all night. Not in a creepy way, just to make sure you were okay… and because he just liked looking at you. You were making it awfully hard though, the way you kept disappearing between the groups of people occupying Harrington’s infamous Saturday night party. 

His goal was to sell what he needed to sell, then he could have his fun. So when he sold his last eighth, his heart rate picked up as he bounded through the waves of people to find you. 

He would be lying if he said he didn’t get a pang of nerves when he finally found you, all alone in the kitchen, getting yourself a drink. 

Steve decided late Friday night that the party was on. He called you up and from there you called Nancy. It’s a practiced drill at this point, Steve calls a few people, who call a few more people, and the word gets around pretty quickly. Eddie got news that night, and it was a given he would sell. He always sells at Harrington parties, similar to how you’re always drinking at them. 

“All your friends scurry off on you, Princess?” An all too familiar voice says right into your ear.

“No.” You say flatly, turning to see Eddie at your side. 

“That’s funny, I only see you.” He says, eyes teasingly looking around you before settling back to meet your gaze.

“You should get your eyes checked, there’s like 20 other people in here.” You say, motioning to all the other bodies occupying the room. 

“You know what I mean.” Eddie says, hip bumping yours gently as you pour from a bottle of something highly alcoholic into your cup. 

“Do I?” You laugh before quickly shooting back your drink. 

“Look at her, she’s a professional.” Eddie teases as you scrunch your face through the burning sensation in your throat, some of the liquid spilling down the corners of your lips from your overzealous tilt of the cup. Without as much as a second though, Eddie’s hand raises to you, wiping your chin dry. 

“Why are you so nice now?” You ask, leaning closer to him so he can hear you over the music. 

“I’m not.” He smiles, eyes leaving yours to watch as you set the empty cup down on the counter. He knows he’s lying, you both do. 

“Is it because I sucked your dick?” You giggle.

You take another step closer to him where he leans against the counter. His eyes meet yours again with a mixture of amusement and shock looming on the surface of his gaze.

“You’re more drunk than you look, princess” He holds your gaze, amusement taking the reigns until his eyes lower to the short distance you’ve created between the two of you. 

“I’m not drunk.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. Eddie watches you, you can tell he’s smiling and you’re not even looking at him. 

“Where’s Wheeler gone? You were with her all night.” He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head, meeting his gaze, lifting your eyebrows as you decipher his question. 

“You were watching me all night?” You ask teasingly, a smile playing on your lips. 

“Princess.” He exhales, rolling his own eyes jokingly. The way his little nickname for you rolls off his tongue makes your already dizzy head spin. 

“She went upstairs with Steve.” You answer, letting your hand rest on the counter, pinky brushing the material of his jeans where he leans against the marble countertop. 

“I hope she’s not as drunk as you are.” He replies, eyes on your fingers as you continue to brush them against him. You shake your head. You could tell him that their rendezvous was premeditated, and a recurring pattern between the two, but you don’t want to talk about them. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest? First you took care of me when I was sick, now you’re looking out for my friends. Such a sweet boy.” You coo, leaning into Eddie, removing your hand from the countertop and placing it flat on his chest to stabilize yourself. 

“Baby, I think you're too drunk, look at you being sweet.” He laughs and you dip your head, hiding the way his words affect you. You’re always ‘princess’, never ‘baby’. It makes your heart beat faster and your skin prickle.

You can’t help but notice how he doesn’t touch you though. He’s always poking and prodding at you in one way or another. Last time you saw him, he was all hands and kisses to your cheeks, but now, nothing.

“Did you make a lot of money tonight?” You ask, stepping in closer to him, your thigh pressing into his as you stand beside him.

“I did good enough.” He shrugs, arms staying closely to his sides and it almost makes you want to pout. He should be grabbing your hand or twirling your hair, doing what he always does. 

“You were busy all night.” You mumble, your head down, watching as you kick at his shoe before stepping over it with one foot. Still leaning against the counter, he shifts, arms moving at his side and you almost get excited before you realize he's just crossing them over his chest. You lower your hand, sitting it closer to his hip as you move to stand directly in front of him. 

“You were watching me all night?” He mocks, copying your same lilt.

“I set myself up for that one didn’t I?” You whisper, head down. He’s still not touching you.

“You did.” He replies, exhaling a laugh. You rest your other hand on his crossed arms, hoping he’ll get the hint but he doesn’t and you sigh, slouching into yourself. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” He asks, quietly.

“You.” You reply flatly. 

“Yeah, but you’re all pouty. You don’t pout. You scowl. Yell. Threaten violence.” He teases gently, dipping his face enough to meet your gaze. 

“You’re not touching me.” You mumble, words so quiet you can barely hear them yourself over the blaring music.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, leaning his ear closer to you. You step in closer to him, pushing your way between his legs.

“I said, you’re not touching me.” You grumble, annoyed that you have to repeat yourself. Even more annoyed when he hears you and still doesn’t touch you. You huff, pushing your body flat against his, but he stops you, hands on your shoulders holding you away from him.

“Princess, I can’t. You’re drunk.” He says firmly, serious eyes meeting yours. Your knee shakes as you try to stop yourself from stomping your foot. 

“You can. You just want to piss me off.” You say, funnelling all of your emotions and forcing them into a short lived anger. 

“Trust me, that’s not why.” He says softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your shoulders. You happily focus on his simple caresses on your bare skin, but the feeling it gives you just leaves you wanting more.

“You're touching me right now, Eddie. Just keep doing that.” You whine, giving him your best pout paired with doe-eyes. His gaze soften, eyes fluttering over your features.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He says, flashing you a small smile.

“You like it though, that’s why you keep coming back.” You whisper. Eddie’s mouth pulls in a flat line and you think you might have said something wrong. His grip on your shoulders falls and you’re sure you did.

You’re sure you did until you feel his hands meet your waist, pulling you towards him. Your hands slip up his chest and around his neck and you hug yourself to him tightly. You absorb every ounce of him you can, every inebriated sense of yours captivated and buzzing with feelings and flutters. Even through the thump of the bass vibrating throughout the kitchen, you swear you hear his heart, or maybe it’s yours, either way it doesn’t matter because Eddie Munson is holding you just like you wanted him to. 

“I was waiting for you to come find me.” You whisper into the skin peeking out of the collar of his shirt as you press your head to his shoulder.  

In the bustling of the party, you stand chest to chest, arms wrapped around each other like this was the only way things were meant to be. He responds to you through the movement of his hands, rubbing up and down your back, touching you, just like you asked. Soothing you like you didn’t know he could. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Eddie, you’re not doing it right, you’re supposed to just come in. I’m not supposed to have to ask you.” You whine. 

“Princess, I can’t.” He says, smiling as you try to tug him through the front door of your house. 

“You can, you did it before, remember?” You say, giving him your best pout.

“You were sick.” He says, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he stands firmly outside, your tugs not making him budge in the slightest. 

“I'm going to be sick right now, if you don’t come inside.” You whine, punctuating your words with little stomps of your feet.

You may have taken a few more shots after Eddie broke up your hug earlier. You knew you had him at that point so maybe you took them just to spite him. It made sense at the time and as the night progressed, you were right. He was by your side the whole time, never more than an arm's length away. And when it was time to go home, you didn’t even have to ask, he was already offering you a ride and guiding you to his van.

“Princess, you’re killing me.” He says exasperatedly through a smile before stepping into the doorway. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Jesus, just drink the water, princess.” Eddie laughs. 

“I’ll do it if you lay down with me.” You say stubbornly. He shakes his head and you drop yourself down onto your pillow. “Please, Eddie. Please.” You plead, your eyes catching the dizzy image of him in the lowlight of your room.

“Drink the water and I’ll think about it.” He says sternly.

“Lay down and I’ll think about it.” You mock, copying his tone.

“You are so…” He laughs, trailing off.

“Good at giving blowjobs?” You giggle, filling in his sentiment. His gaze drops to the floor as he sits on the edge of your bed, shaking his head in disbelief of the moment. 

“I was gonna say ‘impossible’.” He corrects with a laugh. 

You furrow your brows. In attempts to prove him wrong you sit up, taking the water from him and silently finish it small swallow by small swallow until your belly feels impossibly full of water. 

“Done.” You huff, falling back to your pillow dramatically. 

“Good.” He says, hand patting your calf that’s sprawled against the comforter next to him. 

“No. Good girl.” You say, correcting him through giggles. He squeezes your calf, before sitting up enough to put the glass down on your bedside table. 

“Good girl.” He says to appease you, smirk heavy in his features. 

“Was I good enough for you to lay down?” You ask, flashing him innocent eyes. He exhales deeply and even in your spinning state, you know he’s weighing his options. His eyes track the span of the bed before looking back at you, seriousness written across his features.

“No funny business.” He says firmly, making sure to make eye contact so you know he’s serious.

“No funny business.” You agree, nodding your head waiting for him to give in. 

“Only for a few minutes. Sober you wouldn’t want me here.” He says, removing his jacket and tossing it to the floor.

“Yes she would.” You mumble with a pout but quickly get excited when Eddie starts shuffling to lay down. You prop yourself up ready to cozy into him but he stops you.

“Nuh-uh. On your side of the bed, princess.” He says, motioning for you to lay back down. You throw yourself to the mattress with a whined cry. 

“You’re no fun.” You huff, whine building in your chest.

“I’m not here to have fun, princess. This is serious business.” He laughs. 

You continue pouting on your side of the bed, turning enough to watch as Eddie settles into your mattress. His hair sprawls over your pillow, just like before, his throat bobbing as he swallows before turning his head to you.

“Go to sleep.” He says and your jaw drops. His lips curl into a smile, eyes dancing in amusement. 

“You’re mean, you couldn’t even say goodnight? Just go to sleep?” You shrill, trying to focus your gaze on Eddie to get your glare across. 

“Go to sleep.” He repeats, smirking as he reaches his arm to your bedside table, switching the light off, leaving you both in the low glow of the moonlight that sweeps in through your half open curtains. 

“Eddie, I can’t unless you say it nicely.” You argue.

“Princess. Please go to sleep.” He says with teasing lilt.

“No.” You giggle.

“I said it nicely, c’mon princess.” He groans.

“Eddie.” You whine, hearing the annoyance in his voice.

“Princess.” He mocks.

You scan your eyes over him, the low light helping you find where his hand lays at his side. Quietly, you tiptoe your fingers across the mattress until you brush against his hand. Before you can close your grasp, he rips it away with a tut. 

“Eddie, I held your hand when you wanted me to.” You whine.

“That was different.” He replies.

“No it wasn’t! Just hold my hand.” You say, pushing yourself up to try and grab his hand where it lies on his stomach now.

“Lay back down.” He laughs pulling himself further away from you. You drop yourself to the bed, your bottom lip quivering. It’s not for dramatics though, you know Eddie wouldn’t be able to see it.

“No. I’m tired of doing this, I just want you to hold my hand.” You whisper back. Eddie says some kind of teasing response but you ignore it, feeling too lost in the spinning of your head. 

In your current state, you feel a lot of things. Most importantly, you’re confused. These nights usually end with Nancy and Steve. Eddie's existence would have never even crossed your mind, but now, all you want is to be close to him. It doesn’t help that he’s been making you practically beg for his attention all night. It might seem sudden, but it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you feel your eyes grow wet. Your breathing starts to come out in harsh whines from your stomach that get caught in your throat.

When the first tear falls it feels catastrophic. It feels destructive, disastrous even. It feels like a break in your guard and you aren’t quick enough to catch it. There’s no snark left in the world that could patch this up right now. So you hide.

Pushing your face into your pillow, your tears free fall.

You feel shifting on the bed and you push your face further into the pillow.

“Are you crying?” Eddie asks softly, sounding closer to you now.

You don’t offer a response, your throat feels too tight to speak. You feel like you’re drowning in more than just tears.

“Princess, don’t cry.” He replies gently, all teasing gone from his voice. “I’ll hold your hand, here.” He finds your hand, taking it in his but it’s too late. The floodgates are open, set on their path of destruction, open to exposing damage.

His hand wraps around yours and you feel small. Not because of the size difference but because there’s a reason you don’t show these feelings. There’s a reason it’s easier for you to scowl and yell. This side feels too bare, too soft, too uncomfortable. It’s unfamiliar and scary. It feels like offering yourself up to impending disappointment. It feels like waiting for someone to pick you up and they don’t. 

He pulls your hair, you pull his back. He stands you up, what can you do besides pretend it didn’t hurt?

You should yell, you should scold, you should threaten violence. You should tear your hand away, kick him out.

But you don’t. You couldn’t, not anymore. Not right now.

You just want Eddie, all games aside. You want him in the silence of the night, not through the bass of the music where one of you has to move left while the other moves right. You don’t want to dance the line of whatever this is anymore. 

You pull his hand, willing him to come closer, a silent plea through your tears, and he does. He shifts closer until you're pressed to him, your intertwined hands hugged between your chests as his other hand wraps around you, resting against your back. He soothes you with quiet promises of everything being okay intermixed with his own apologies that only make you cry harder. 

Maybe you’re not the whole reason that you two have ended up here, but you’re half of it, and it takes two to play this game. If you tap out, you’re half of the way to it being over.

If you walk away and he follows, isn’t that just the game changing again? A game of cat and mouse?

Maybe all these metaphors are stupid. Maybe they’re all a figment of your imagination that blossomed as a child from the first time he pulled your hair. Maybe you’re too old for these playground antics. Maybe you’re too old to not say how you feel. 

“I was sad when you didn’t come to pick me up.” You whisper, your sob-filled secret sailing into the darkness of the room as if his chest wasn’t there to catch your secret. 

Your words are as much for you as they are for him, you couldn’t admit your hurt before, but now you do. 

Truth tastes soft in your mouth, not at all like the burn of alcohol you’ve drowned yourself in. It’s not sweet, it doesn’t fix everything, it just creates a storm in your belly. A fight between everything you know, everything you’ve done, and something new. It’s unnatural, it makes you feel sick. 

“I know, princess. I’m sorry.” He whispers in return, his hand rubbing against your back. You imagine with every pass of his hand on your back he’s helping you fight the furries of the storm rising inside of you, but with the storm rising, there is nowhere else for these feelings to go but up. 

“I don’t want you to say sorry, I just don’t want you to do it again.” You cry.

Your throat constricts as you feel bile rising. 

“I won’t. I promise, okay?” He says softly. His words would have eased every metaphorical storm inside you, but this storm has turned literal, you’re about to vomit.

“Eddie, I'm gonna be sick.”

It’s a rush of limbs and a dash down the hall. Everything pours from you, every uncried tear, every burn, every furry, every roar of the storm. Everything you know, everything you’ve done, it all leaves you. And in its wake all you have left is Eddie’s hand rubbing your back, telling you it’s okay. It’s soft and unnatural but you let it absorb you entirely. It burrows into you, finding a place you never knew existed, a place where softness thrives and doesn’t need to be hidden by the guise of anger and indifference.

Eddie brings you back to your bed and in the silence of the night, apologies and promises lay side by side, holding hands. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 61

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 61 next>>

A/N: Narrations after the 7th panel. Also, I've updated Parts 56 and 60. The video is working on the former and I forgot to add the narrations on the latter prior to the video. Idk what I was thinking with this last update. Sorry for that and for this very brief update. Smutty things to come in the next chapters!

You were left to think of what Uraume told you, said in such an unsentimental manner that one would have thought that they were just talking about something trivial. But it got you thinking of so many things all at the same time, perplexed about the meaning behind those simple words, thrown out in the wind, free for interpretation.

However, you were no longer able to ask as the others returned, Choso immediately slinging an arm over your shoulder and asking after you. “You look flushed. Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Y-yes, thank you.” Your eyes immediately flicked to Sukuna who was standing beside Uraume, and you felt your face heating up all the more when he smiled at you. “It’s just really hot.”

“You sure?" he asked, snickering. You knew what he was getting at, but you didn't say anything.

“Hi, princess,” Naoya greeted, blocking your view of Sukuna.

You thought he was nice although he could be rather full of himself. It wasn’t in an annoying way, just in a funny, disarming way. Noisy, too. “Hi.”

“Call me Naoya.”

You nodded but you did not say it, suddenly remembering your confliction about what Uraume told you. You did notice it, too, the way everyone called Sukuna by his last name. Everyone just referred to him as “Ryomen,” and you pondered on whether it meant anything that you’re the only one who called him by his birth name.

The thoughts plagued you even as you sat in the car, your eyes remaining trained on him in the tense silence that seemed to have followed your last words when he asked you if you were ready to go home. You still couldn’t shake the same feeling you had earlier when you were watching him play, your senses seemingly hyper-aware of every single detail of him. Your heart felt full as the afternoon sun shone through the windows, touching his being that you thought, if you blinked, he’d disappear like a mirage.

It was the case up to the moment he parked on the spot next to where your own car had been sitting in the garage since the accident. It was gathering dust, but you have grown accustomed to the passenger side of Sukuna's car, the apple-cinammon air freshener he used and the feeling of having someone to talk to and laugh with while going places.

You didn't like the idea of driving on your own anymore, always alone inside your car.

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© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240625]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[ntonlvr]

Can't Help Myself Falling Endlessly 2

synopsis: anton and y/n spark a secretive affair together word count: 4k status: 2/? (trying to update 2 times a week) genre: non idol au, fem reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers content warning: explicit sexual content, blow jobs, oral (fem), fingering, slight nipple play, man idk how to tag sorry

As the door clicked shut behind Anton, you leaned against it, trying to calm your racing heart. The memory of his kiss still lingered on your lips, and a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. It felt surreal, but you couldn’t linger on it for long. Sohee would be back downstairs any minute. 

Sure enough, Sohee appeared at the top of the stairs, now dressed in his pajamas. “I was coming to help, but it looks like you and Anton did everything,” he said, glancing around. 

“You only went upstairs to avoid helping, so don’t even try to lie,” you scoffed, folding the blue blanket. 

“You two seemed to be having fun,” he remarked, completely unaware of the emotional storm you had just weathered.

“Yeah, it was a good time as always,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “How was work?”

“Same old, same old,” Sohee said, plopping down on the couch. “But at least I got paid for a full shift.”

You nodded, your mind drifting back to Anton. “I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m going to head to bed,” you said, stifling a yawn.

“Alright, goodnight,” Sohee called after you as you headed upstairs. 

Once in your room, you climbed into bed, your mind buzzing with thoughts of Anton. You couldn’t wait to talk to him again, to see where this new development would lead. As you lay there, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You reached for it, hoping it was a message from Anton. Sure enough, his name lit up the screen.

____________________________________________________________________________

Texting

anton: I can’t stop thinking about tonight. Can we talk?

y/n: absolutely. im still wide awake.

anton: Same here. I still can’t believe we kissed. How are you feeling?

y/n: honestly, my heart is still racing. i havent been able to stop smiling lowkey…

anton: Me too. I’m going to say something, but don’t judge me haha

y/n: judgment free zone

anton: I have wanted to kiss you for a while now.

y/n: really? because me too, i’m glad i finally did 

y/n: might i just add, i like the way your lips felt on me …

anton: Oh, I’m glad you think so. Maybe we should do it again.

y/n: god i wish i could have some of you right now. i wish we didn’t get interrupted …

anton: Trust me, I wish the same thing.

y/n: maybe we can just have a little fun now … 

anton: Mmm, tell me what you have in mind. 

y/n: i really want to feel your hands on me and your lips exploring every inch of me

anton: I want that too. I swear I can feel you right now. 

y/n: i would love to feel you right now, i barely got the chance earlier

y/n: i need you now… what if you snuck over tonight? sohee is playing video games downstairs

anton: My one question. Are we both on the same page about keeping whatever this is a secret. Until we figure out what it is we want?

y/n: yes, i agree. but pls can you hurry over. i’ll run down and unlock the door.

____________________________________________________________________________

As Anton read Y/N’s last message, a surge of desire coursed through him. He glanced around his room, heart pounding with anticipation. The idea of sneaking over to your place ignited a thrilling excitement within him, but he knew they needed to be cautious. 

Quickly, Anton grabbed his keys and silently crept down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. The night air was cool against his skin as he stepped outside, leaving his car behind and opting to walk the short distance to your place. Every step felt charged, thoughts of your touch and their shared desires racing through his mind. 

Arriving at your doorstep, Anton took a moment to collect himself, his heart racing at the thought of your touch. The house was dimly lit, the silence broken by the faint hum of appliances and Sohee yelling at whatever game he was playing in the basement. Anton tiptoed through the hallway and up the stairs into your bedroom. 

After entering, Anton closes the door with deliberate care to dampen any noise from the latch. When he turns around, he finds you still in the oversized hoodie from earlier, now accompanied by a pair of light blue panties instead of the gray shorts. 

Anton had always been the shy type, reserved and cautious in his interactions with others. But with you, it was different. There was something about the way you looked at him, the way your eyes held a feeling of warmth that emboldened him like nothing else. Your presence alone seemed to dissolve the barrieres he usually kept around himself. 

Anton stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you in the low-lit room. The soft glow accentuated every curve he could see. His gaze lingered on you, a mix of desire and admiration evident in his eyes. Without a word, Anton crossed the room, swiftly taking off his shirt in the process. He reached out, his touch gentle yet determined, conveying a depth of emotion that words could not capture. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, sending a shiver down your spine as you pressed closer to him.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, matching the heat building between you. His lips found yours, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since your last encounter. The kiss was hungry, passionate, filled with a longing that spoke volumes of unspoken desires and shared moments.

Anton’s lips trailed down your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.” His voice, usually soft-spoken, carried a husky edge filled with some desperation.

Anton's hands roamed over your back, tracing the lines of your spine beneath the fabric of the hoodie. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through you, making your breath catch in your throat. Every caress, every touch seemed to deepen the connection between you, erasing any distance that had existed.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you whisper back, “Your hands feel so good, Anton.” your words hung in the air, as you traced patterns over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles release under your touch. 

Anton’s hand caressed her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips. “I have wanted to kiss you like this for so long,” he admitted, his voice thick with longing. 

You smiled softly, eyes locking with his, “I’ve wanted this too,” you confessed, your voice above a whisper. You leaned in, capturing his lips in another kiss, deeper and sloppier than before. Anton carries his touch under your hoodie and takes your breasts in hands, now carefully playing with your nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. You allow him better access to your body by taking off the hoodie, now exposed to the chill in the air. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, voiced with awe. He leaned in, this time pressing his kisses right on your chest. He takes in one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around. You arch into his touch, loving the way his gentle motion takes you over. His fingers dance along your sides, teasing the sensitive spots that make you gasp and moan in delight. 

With a sudden surge of boldness, you gently push Anton back onto the bed. He looks at you, eyes wide with surprise and lust. You smile, teasing a glint in your eyes. Your fingers trace the outline of his jaw, moving down his neck to his chest. You place soft, lingering kisses along the path where your fingers had been, feeling him tense and relax at your touch. You savor the way he reacts, the way his breath hitches and his body responds. 

You continue your journey downward, your kisses trailing from his chest to his abdomen. You can feel the heat of his skin, the way goosebumps appear as you leave wet kisses here and there. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pause, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. With just that look, Anton’s eyes darken with desire, lifting his hips to slide his pants down and kick them away. 

As you take in the sight of him, your breath catches in your throat. You had always found Anton attractive, but seeing him like this–completely exposed, eyes filled with hunger, muscles taut with anticipation–leaves you momentarily stunned. The way his chest rises and falls rapidly, the glisten of sweat forming in his skin, the intensity in his gaze… it’s almost too much to take in. The reality of having such a powerful effect on him hits you with a force that takes your breath away. “Wow” is all you can manage to say at that moment. 

Your eyes travel down, and when they reach his member, you’re taken aback by its size. Not truly getting to notice from your earlier encounter. You blink in surprise, a flush creeping up your cheeks. It’s larger than you expected, and for a moment, you’re unsure of how to proceed. The sheer size of him is intimidating, yet only fuels your desire to pleasure him even more. 

As you move closer to his most sensitive areas, you take your time, savoring the taste and feel of him. You start by trailing gentle, wet kisses along the length of his shaft, feeling him throb under your lips. He lets out a low groan, the sound sending a thrill through you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty essence of his arousal, and his reaction is immediate–a sharp intake of breath, his hips twitching involuntarily. 

You wrap your hand around the base, feeling the thickness and heat of him. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, inch by inch, adjusting to his size. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, is intense. You hollow your cheeks and create a tight seal with your lips, moving down further, feeling him slide deeper into your throat. His hands find their way to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands, a gentle pressure guiding you but allowing you to maintain control.

You set a steady rhythm, your mouth moving up and down his length, your tongue tracing patterns along the underside. You vary the pressure and speed, taking him deep into your throat one moment and teasing his tip with light flicks of your tongue the next. His moans grow louder, his breaths more ragged, as you drive him closer to the edge. 

You glance up at him, locking eyes as you continue your attack. The look of pure pleasure on his face, the way his muscles tense and hips lift to meet your movements. You increase the intensity, taking him deeper, your hand working in tandem with your mouth.

His moans become more urgent, his grip on your hair tightening. When you sense he’s closer you pull back slightly, focusing on the head, your tongue swirling and lips sucking with increased fervor. His whole body shudders, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips. 

You pause for a moment, your hand still working him slowly, looking up at him with a playful yet serious expression. “Anton,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but filled with authority. “You need to be quiet.”

His eyes widen slightly, and he nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. You continue, this time more slowly, more sensually, your mouth working in perfect harmony with your hand. You maintain eye contact, watching as he bites his lip, trying to stifle his moans. 

You resume your rhythm, your mouth moving up and down his length with renewed determination. His body tenses and relaxes under your touch, his attempts to stay quiet adding an extra layer of intensity to the moment. You can see the effort he’s making to remain silent, his face contorted with pleasure and concentration. You feel his body shudder again, signaling his impending climax. You increase your pace, your tongue paying more attention to the tip, your hand stroking the rest of his member. His grip tightens in the sheets, and you can see the strain in his eyes as he tries to keep from crying out. 

When he finally releases, it’s with a muffled groan, his body convulsing with pleasure. You take in every drop, swallowing and continue to suck gently, milking him of every last bit of his release. As you lie there, you both breathing heavily, Anton looks you in your eyes, a mischievous smile now forming on his lips. “My turn,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with promise. Before you can respond, he rolls you onto your back, his hands exploring your body with a new purpose. 

His fingers trail down your sides, sending shivers through you. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Remember, we have to be quiet.” The huskiness in his voice makes your breath catch, the anticipation building within you. His mouth moves to your neck, placing soft, teasing kisses along your skin. You bite your lip, stifling a moan as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear. His hands roam over your curves, caressing and kneading your flesh with a gentle yet firm touch. 

He continues his journey downward, his kisses trailing from your neck to your collarbone, then lower to your breasts. Once again, his tongue flicks over one nipple while his hand massages the other one, the sensation making you arch into him. You struggle to keep your moans quiet, his touch so overwhelming, but so good. Opting for holding one of your hands over your mouth. Anton pauses, much like you had, looking up at you with a devilish grin. “You have to stay quiet,” he reminds you playfully, his voice barely above a whisper. The challenge in his eyes only makes you want him more. 

He returns to his actions, his mouth leaving a trail of fire down your abdomen. When he reaches your hips, he takes his time, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin there. Your hands grip the sheets, your body begins trembling as you wait for what he does next. You had purposely chosen your light blue panties, knowing it was Anton’s favorite color. Anton’s fingers brushed against the edge of your panties, and he looked up. “Mmm, light blue, huh? Trying to drive me even more crazy?” he teased, his voice low.

You let out a little laugh, cheeks flushing. “Maybe,” you murmured, your gaze locking with his.

His touch became more deliberate, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned closer. “Well, it’s working,” he whispered, his eyes hard with desire. His fingers brushed against your panties, and he smirked. “God, you’re so wet for me already,” he says in a breathy tone. He let his fingers press gently against the damp fabric, feeling the heat emanating from you. “I can feel how much you want this,” he added, his tone laced with excitement. When his lips finally meet your core, a soft gasp escapes your lips. His tongue flicks out gently, exploring your folds with tender curiosity. You arch your back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips as pleasure courses through you. 

Anton’s movements are deliberate and skilled, something you didn’t know until this very moment. His tongue tracing patterns that make your toes curl. He finds your clit, circling it with gentle pressure, and you bite your lip to mute a louder response. His fingers join in, gently parting your folds to expose your most sensitive spots. He dips a finger inside you, his touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

You squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations he evokes. Anton’s pace quickens slightly, his ministrations driving you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, trying desperately to maintain composure as pleasure builds within you. 

As you near the peak, Anton’s tongue becomes insistent, his fingers working in tandem to bring you to the brink. You struggle to keep your breathing steady, the need to stay quiet intensifying the pleasure. 

Finally, you can’t hold back any longer. With a soft cry that echoes into a stifled whimper, you release over Anton’s fingers, waves of ecstasy washing over you. Anton continues his gentle assault, prolonging your pleasure until you finally relax into your bed. His touch is gentle yet firm as he kisses your inner thigh, then comes up to capture your lips. You respond eagerly, pulling him closer as your hands slide up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles under your touch.

As you both lie together, catching your breath after the intensity of your passion, a thought crosses your mind. You shift slightly, breaking the silence in the room.

“Anton,” you mumble softly, your fingers tracing light patterns on his chest, “do you have a condom?”

Anton meets your gaze with a warm smile, his eyes hooded but still gleaming. He nods and reaches for his tossed pants, retrieving the condom. “Yes,” he replies in a low, reassuring voice, “I came prepared.” he breathes out. Feeling his hardness against you, you instinctively press closer, craving more of his warmth and closeness. The intensity of your mutual desire pulses between you, palpable in every touch, every caress. Anton’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as his lips find yours in a hungry kiss. 

“I want you,” Anton murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with longing and urgency. His confession stirs a response in you, a deep yearning that matches his own. You reciprocate eagerly, your hands threading through his hair as you deepen the kiss, pouring all your passion into that moment.

“Anton,” you whisper, breathlessly, “I’ve been wanting this…wanting you.” As he rolls on the condom with practiced ease, his eyes never leave yours, filled with lust and reverence. You feel his hardness against you, a tangible reminder of his attraction to you. 

“Y/N,” Anton breathes against your ear, his voice thick with need, “Are you sure?” 

You met his gaze with unwavering intensity, your own desire burning brightly. “Yes,” you tell him, your voice tinged with anticipation and longing. “I’m begging you.”

A low growl escapes Anton’s throat at your words, his own yearning mirroring yours. With a swift movement, Anton positions himself above you, his gaze locked in with yours as he enters you slowly. He grunts when he feels your folds pressing against his cock. The sensation of his sizable member filling you up completely sends a rush of pleasure throughout your body. 

You gasp at the intensity of the feeling, arching into him, yearning for more of his touch, more of the overwhelming ecstasy only he can bring. Anton’s movements are deliberate and controlled, each thrust drawing a moan from your lips. “Y/N,” he breathes against your skin, his voice rough, “you feel so good.”

But then, unexpectedly, he changes his rhythm. Instead of deep and penetrating thrusts, Anton begins to move shallow, teasing strokes. Each shallow thrust grazes against your most sensitive spots, sending electric currents of pleasure through you. Your breath hitches as this new sensation overwhelms you, and you find yourself gasping for me.

The teasing trusts drive you wild, making your body tremble with need. “Anton, please,” you whimper, your voice shaky with desire.

He smirks against your neck, enjoying the effect he has on you. “You want more?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his back, your nails digging into his skin. “Harder, please.” 

Anton’s restraints snaps at your plea. He adjusts his position and begins to pound into you with a powerful, relentless pace. Each movement is intense, his hips slamming against yours with a force that makes you cry out in pleasure. The feeling of him driving into you, hard and deep, sends waves of ecstasy crashing through you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

Anton’s hands roam your body, exploring every curve and eliciting shivers of pleasure. His touch firm yet tender, heightening the senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating blend of lust and longing. Desperate for more contact, you whimper softly, your voice thick with need, “Anton, please, touch me.”

With one hand steadying himself beside you, his other hand slides down your body, fingers finding your sensitive bud. He circles it slowly at first, teasingly, before applying just the right amount of pressure and speed that has you arching into him with a cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice trembling, “right there, please don’t stop.” 

Anton’s grin is both wicked and tender as he watches your reactions, his own desire evident in the controlled urgency of his actions. “You look so beautiful when you beg,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. As the tension builds, Anton’s breathing becomes heavier, and his movements become sloppier. You can feel him starting to tremble, his control slipping as he nears his own climax. “Y/N,” he groans, his voice raw and filled with need, “I’m so close.”

“Then come for me,” you whisper, your voice laced with anticipation. Your word spur him on, and with a final, deep thrust, Anton comes undone, his body shuddering with the force of his release. His moan of pleasure raw and primal, his eyes squeezing shut as he surrenders to the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy. The sight and the sound of him losing control sends a rush of heat through you, pushing you closer to your own edge. 

As Anton’s climax subsides, his fingers on your clit maintain their motion, the pressure and speed perfect for driving you over the edge. “I want to see you let go,” he tells you. His words are the final push you need. Your body arches up, and you cry out his name as your orgasm takes over you, each wave more intense than the last. Anton watches you, his eyes filled with admiration, his hand stopping until you are completely spent. 

As the final tremors of your climax fade, you collapse back onto the bed, your breathing heavy and uneven. Anthon gently pulls you into his arms, his touch tender and reassuring. “That was incredible,” he says in a hushed tone. 

You smile up at him, “It really was,” you agree, your voice still breathless. For a moment, you both lie there in the quiet, the intensity of the moment slowly giving way to a warm, comforting afterglow. Anton’s fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, and you snuggle closer to him, feeling content and safe in his embrace. 

Finally, Anton breaks the silence, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. “Y/N, I like that we’re keeping this a secret for now, just to see what we really want.”

You nod, understanding the importance of this discretion. “I agree,” you say, your eyes meeting his. “But whatever this is, I’m glad we’re doing.”

Anton smiles, his eyes shining with affection. “Me too,” he says, pulling you closer.“ The room is filled with a comfortable silence, only the sound of your breathing and occasional creak if the house settles around you. Eventually, Anton shifts slightly, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t want this to end, but I should probably go before Sohee comes upstairs.”

“You’re right,” you say softly. With one last lingering touch, Anton slips out of bed and begins to gather his clothes. As he dresses, you can’t help but stare at his body, still in awe at how good he looks. Anton pauses at the door, glancing back at you with a smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Anton,” you reply, your heart full as you watch him leave. The door closes softly behind him, and you lie back on the bed, a contented smile on your face. 

[bluegarners]

2024 Writing Year in Review

tagged by: @blackbatcass & @daringyounggrayson tagging: @hood-ex and @boyfridged and @dustorange if you would also like to play <3

number of stories posted to ao3: eight

word counted posted for last year: 37,211

fandoms i wrote for: dcu, batman all media types, green lantern

pairings: i wrote one jaykyle fic pairing but everything else was platonic

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: i am going to leave out solar flares in this count bc i only posted one chapter this year (omg i promise to finish it one day, im so sorry)

most kudos: Shoulders, 411 kudos

most bookmarks: Shoulders, 117 kudos

most comment threads: Shoulders, 21 comments

work i’m most proud of (and why): i know i keep talking about it, but Deep Bells is probably the one i am most proud of just because i've never written anything like it before and i think it's one of the very very few fics i've written where i am satisfied with it and am not cringing every time i come across it

BUT

if i had to choose a different one, it would be sleepless, perfect duty because i really liked the frantic dynamic i managed to cultivate and the familiar but deeply intense child anxiety that comes with perfectionism but also the understood oath that batman MUST come before robin at all costs, even if batman doesn't like it and IDK i think this would be the one i would rec to ppl if they wanted to read one of my fics that centers the early days for batman and robin

work i’m least proud of (and why): solar flares... and my reasoning! is that i am sooo stuck on it... i really would love to finish it, to end it in a way that gets the core message across, that wraps it up in a neat bow so that i and all of my sweet readers can enjoy and find satisfying, but for whatever reason that has been the most difficult thing for me. i honestly look back at the entire thing and feel a little shame bc even though i worked so hard on it and for so long and i have so much encouraging support, i just can't help but dislike it in small ways. i hope that 2025 will let me finish it and me happy with it

share or describe a favorite review you received: SO MANY. SO MANY!!! anytime someone leaves a long comment with sections of the fic copied and pasted with their little reactions or commentary, my heart BURSTS WITH JOY!! i have such difficulty believing in myself and my writing, so every specific or detailed comment makes me feel seen and real

if you left a comment or a bookmark with comments, please know you made my year infinitely sweet and more worthwhile. i know that sounds dramatic, but sometimes seeing that number in my inbox is one of the few good things about my day, so i am forever grateful for those of you that choose to spend your time reading and telling me what you thought

a time when writing was really, really hard: even though i did publish eight fics/chapters this year, writing overall was a struggle. i needed some kind of motivator to write, so a majority of the fics i wrote for 2024 were gifts for others. i hope in 2025 i can self-motivate and write things for myself <3

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: it was a gift for @ekleiipsis, but the entirety of Thumbnail was a surprise! i actually had a lot of fun writing jaykyle and i am the kind of fan that has a hard time perceiving any character in a sexual manner or scenario or really any relationships, so writing jason todd (ace king in my head) getting down and dirty (but in a mild way) was actually fascinating and like dissecting a bug... didn't have a clue what i would find but it was a fun experience!

a favourite excerpt of your writing: i think this is mostly recency bias, but in sleepless, perfect duty, there's this scene that honestly came straight from the heart and mind ( i know it's long but i think it's importanttt)

how did you grow as a writer last year: hmmm i think maybe i thought more about the sentences i was writing. i tend to just dive head first into the zone and whatever comes out on the page is usually what stays there, but i remember specifically trying to create certain tones with my sentence structure. not even the words, but how long the sentences were, where i was putting my commas, how often i was moving on from paragraph to paragraph. i still have a long way to go but i think i made some progress

how do you hope to grow this year: i hope i can get better about writing action scenes and complicating plot via action rather than emotion. probably 90% of my writing is all introspection/character emotion driven

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): @mysterycitrus!!! greta's fics and blurbs shared have made me so badly want to improve my writing, it is ridiculous how talented greta is with not only characterizations but in general well-thought out plots and complexity! i feel i struggle with creating and evolving relationships in a story, and greta's stories do them soooo masterfully in my opinion, everyone needs to go read persephone's in hell if they haven't already

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: i don't think so...

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: for new writers, straight up, your first fanfic is probably not going to be super stellar or get many comments, kudos, hits, etc... DONT BE DISCOURAGED BY THAT!!! it is so utterly rare to be amazing right off the bat and it would in fact be really strange if that were to happen. no one gets good instantly, and even as your writing does improve, that unfortunately won't always be recognized by others. everyone has heard this a million times because it's TRUE but things take time and greatness doesn't happen overnight. remember all of the great writers and artists of the past- most of them weren't recognized for their talents until well after their death. don't be discouraged by bad reception. if you love what you do, you have to keep loving it enough to keep doing it

for the writers that are like me and have been writing for years and want to continue writing but sometimes feel too burnt out or uninspired to do so: don't give up. find something new that excites you, be it another fandom, another medium of creativity, or literally anything else in the world. don't feel bad about leaving a fandom you're established in just bc you don't want to disappoint fans of your work. you're allowed to move on or look elsewhere, you don't HAVE to stay. but if you WANT to stay, don't pressure yourself to keep creating content for others to consume just bc that's what you're used to. start doing things you're not used to or just take a break. if you're a writer, go read other fics or published books. if you're an artist, go write something or read other things. the main thing to keep in mind is you're not obligated to do anything ever, ESPECIALLY if it makes you unhappy

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: solar flares i want to finish (no promises, im sorry </3 ) and there are sooooo many batman and dick!robin fics i want to write, they've been on my mind very often lately. i've talked about some of the ideas i want to put to paper, so hopefully i get on that for the new year!

[ntonluvr]

*REPOST*

Can't Help Myself Falling Endlessly 2

REPOST ON BACKUP FOR SAFETY

synopsis: anton and y/n spark a secretive affair together word count: 4k status: 2/? (trying to update 2 times a week) genre: non idol au, fem reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers content warning: explicit sexual content, blow jobs, oral (fem), fingering, slight nipple play, man idk how to tag sorry

As the door clicked shut behind Anton, you leaned against it, trying to calm your racing heart. The memory of his kiss still lingered on your lips, and a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. It felt surreal, but you couldn’t linger on it for long. Sohee would be back downstairs any minute. 

Sure enough, Sohee appeared at the top of the stairs, now dressed in his pajamas. “I was coming to help, but it looks like you and Anton did everything,” he said, glancing around. 

“You only went upstairs to avoid helping, so don’t even try to lie,” you scoffed, folding the blue blanket. 

“You two seemed to be having fun,” he remarked, completely unaware of the emotional storm you had just weathered.

“Yeah, it was a good time as always,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “How was work?”

“Same old, same old,” Sohee said, plopping down on the couch. “But at least I got paid for a full shift.”

You nodded, your mind drifting back to Anton. “I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m going to head to bed,” you said, stifling a yawn.

“Alright, goodnight,” Sohee called after you as you headed upstairs. 

Once in your room, you climbed into bed, your mind buzzing with thoughts of Anton. You couldn’t wait to talk to him again, to see where this new development would lead. As you lay there, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You reached for it, hoping it was a message from Anton. Sure enough, his name lit up the screen.

______________________________________________________________

Texting

anton: I can’t stop thinking about tonight. Can we talk?

y/n: absolutely. im still wide awake.

anton: Same here. I still can’t believe we kissed. How are you feeling?

y/n: honestly, my heart is still racing. i havent been able to stop smiling lowkey…

anton: Me too. I’m going to say something, but don’t judge me haha

y/n: judgment free zone

anton: I have wanted to kiss you for a while now.

y/n: really? because me too, i’m glad i finally did 

y/n: might i just add, i like the way your lips felt on me …

anton: Oh, I’m glad you think so. Maybe we should do it again.

y/n: god i wish i could have some of you right now. i wish we didn’t get interrupted …

anton: Trust me, I wish the same thing.

y/n: maybe we can just have a little fun now … 

anton: Mmm, tell me what you have in mind. 

y/n: i really want to feel your hands on me and your lips exploring every inch of me

anton: I want that too. I swear I can feel you right now. 

y/n: i would love to feel you right now, i barely got the chance earlier

y/n: i need you now… what if you snuck over tonight? sohee is playing video games downstairs

anton: My one question. Are we both on the same page about keeping whatever this is a secret. Until we figure out what it is we want?

y/n: yes, i agree. but pls can you hurry over. i’ll run down and unlock the door.

___________________________________________________________

As Anton read Y/N’s last message, a surge of desire coursed through him. He glanced around his room, heart pounding with anticipation. The idea of sneaking over to your place ignited a thrilling excitement within him, but he knew they needed to be cautious. 

Quickly, Anton grabbed his keys and silently crept down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. The night air was cool against his skin as he stepped outside, leaving his car behind and opting to walk the short distance to your place. Every step felt charged, thoughts of your touch and their shared desires racing through his mind. 

Arriving at your doorstep, Anton took a moment to collect himself, his heart racing at the thought of your touch. The house was dimly lit, the silence broken by the faint hum of appliances and Sohee yelling at whatever game he was playing in the basement. Anton tiptoed through the hallway and up the stairs into your bedroom. 

After entering, Anton closes the door with deliberate care to dampen any noise from the latch. When he turns around, he finds you still in the oversized hoodie from earlier, now accompanied by a pair of light blue panties instead of the gray shorts. 

Anton had always been the shy type, reserved and cautious in his interactions with others. But with you, it was different. There was something about the way you looked at him, the way your eyes held a feeling of warmth that emboldened him like nothing else. Your presence alone seemed to dissolve the barrieres he usually kept around himself. 

Anton stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you in the low-lit room. The soft glow accentuated every curve he could see. His gaze lingered on you, a mix of desire and admiration evident in his eyes. Without a word, Anton crossed the room, swiftly taking off his shirt in the process. He reached out, his touch gentle yet determined, conveying a depth of emotion that words could not capture. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, sending a shiver down your spine as you pressed closer to him.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, matching the heat building between you. His lips found yours, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since your last encounter. The kiss was hungry, passionate, filled with a longing that spoke volumes of unspoken desires and shared moments.

Anton’s lips trailed down your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.” His voice, usually soft-spoken, carried a husky edge filled with some desperation.

Anton's hands roamed over your back, tracing the lines of your spine beneath the fabric of the hoodie. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through you, making your breath catch in your throat. Every caress, every touch seemed to deepen the connection between you, erasing any distance that had existed.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you whisper back, “Your hands feel so good, Anton.” your words hung in the air, as you traced patterns over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles release under your touch. 

Anton’s hand caressed her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips. “I have wanted to kiss you like this for so long,” he admitted, his voice thick with longing. 

You smiled softly, eyes locking with his, “I’ve wanted this too,” you confessed, your voice above a whisper. You leaned in, capturing his lips in another kiss, deeper and sloppier than before. Anton carries his touch under your hoodie and takes your breasts in hands, now carefully playing with your nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. You allow him better access to your body by taking off the hoodie, now exposed to the chill in the air. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, voiced with awe. He leaned in, this time pressing his kisses right on your chest. He takes in one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around. You arch into his touch, loving the way his gentle motion takes you over. His fingers dance along your sides, teasing the sensitive spots that make you gasp and moan in delight. 

With a sudden surge of boldness, you gently push Anton back onto the bed. He looks at you, eyes wide with surprise and lust. You smile, teasing a glint in your eyes. Your fingers trace the outline of his jaw, moving down his neck to his chest. You place soft, lingering kisses along the path where your fingers had been, feeling him tense and relax at your touch. You savor the way he reacts, the way his breath hitches and his body responds. 

You continue your journey downward, your kisses trailing from his chest to his abdomen. You can feel the heat of his skin, the way goosebumps appear as you leave wet kisses here and there. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pause, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. With just that look, Anton’s eyes darken with desire, lifting his hips to slide his pants down and kick them away. 

As you take in the sight of him, your breath catches in your throat. You had always found Anton attractive, but seeing him like this–completely exposed, eyes filled with hunger, muscles taut with anticipation–leaves you momentarily stunned. The way his chest rises and falls rapidly, the glisten of sweat forming in his skin, the intensity in his gaze… it’s almost too much to take in. The reality of having such a powerful effect on him hits you with a force that takes your breath away. “Wow” is all you can manage to say at that moment. 

Your eyes travel down, and when they reach his member, you’re taken aback by its size. Not truly getting to notice from your earlier encounter. You blink in surprise, a flush creeping up your cheeks. It’s larger than you expected, and for a moment, you’re unsure of how to proceed. The sheer size of him is intimidating, yet only fuels your desire to pleasure him even more. 

As you move closer to his most sensitive areas, you take your time, savoring the taste and feel of him. You start by trailing gentle, wet kisses along the length of his shaft, feeling him throb under your lips. He lets out a low groan, the sound sending a thrill through you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty essence of his arousal, and his reaction is immediate–a sharp intake of breath, his hips twitching involuntarily. 

You wrap your hand around the base, feeling the thickness and heat of him. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, inch by inch, adjusting to his size. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, is intense. You hollow your cheeks and create a tight seal with your lips, moving down further, feeling him slide deeper into your throat. His hands find their way to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands, a gentle pressure guiding you but allowing you to maintain control.

You set a steady rhythm, your mouth moving up and down his length, your tongue tracing patterns along the underside. You vary the pressure and speed, taking him deep into your throat one moment and teasing his tip with light flicks of your tongue the next. His moans grow louder, his breaths more ragged, as you drive him closer to the edge. 

You glance up at him, locking eyes as you continue your attack. The look of pure pleasure on his face, the way his muscles tense and hips lift to meet your movements. You increase the intensity, taking him deeper, your hand working in tandem with your mouth.

His moans become more urgent, his grip on your hair tightening. When you sense he’s closer you pull back slightly, focusing on the head, your tongue swirling and lips sucking with increased fervor. His whole body shudders, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips. 

You pause for a moment, your hand still working him slowly, looking up at him with a playful yet serious expression. “Anton,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but filled with authority. “You need to be quiet.”

His eyes widen slightly, and he nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. You continue, this time more slowly, more sensually, your mouth working in perfect harmony with your hand. You maintain eye contact, watching as he bites his lip, trying to stifle his moans. 

You resume your rhythm, your mouth moving up and down his length with renewed determination. His body tenses and relaxes under your touch, his attempts to stay quiet adding an extra layer of intensity to the moment. You can see the effort he’s making to remain silent, his face contorted with pleasure and concentration. You feel his body shudder again, signaling his impending climax. You increase your pace, your tongue paying more attention to the tip, your hand stroking the rest of his member. His grip tightens in the sheets, and you can see the strain in his eyes as he tries to keep from crying out. 

When he finally releases, it’s with a muffled groan, his body convulsing with pleasure. You take in every drop, swallowing and continue to suck gently, milking him of every last bit of his release. As you lie there, you both breathing heavily, Anton looks you in your eyes, a mischievous smile now forming on his lips. “My turn,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with promise. Before you can respond, he rolls you onto your back, his hands exploring your body with a new purpose. 

His fingers trail down your sides, sending shivers through you. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Remember, we have to be quiet.” The huskiness in his voice makes your breath catch, the anticipation building within you. His mouth moves to your neck, placing soft, teasing kisses along your skin. You bite your lip, stifling a moan as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear. His hands roam over your curves, caressing and kneading your flesh with a gentle yet firm touch. 

He continues his journey downward, his kisses trailing from your neck to your collarbone, then lower to your breasts. Once again, his tongue flicks over one nipple while his hand massages the other one, the sensation making you arch into him. You struggle to keep your moans quiet, his touch so overwhelming, but so good. Opting for holding one of your hands over your mouth. Anton pauses, much like you had, looking up at you with a devilish grin. “You have to stay quiet,” he reminds you playfully, his voice barely above a whisper. The challenge in his eyes only makes you want him more. 

He returns to his actions, his mouth leaving a trail of fire down your abdomen. When he reaches your hips, he takes his time, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin there. Your hands grip the sheets, your body begins trembling as you wait for what he does next. You had purposely chosen your light blue panties, knowing it was Anton’s favorite color. Anton’s fingers brushed against the edge of your panties, and he looked up. “Mmm, light blue, huh? Trying to drive me even more crazy?” he teased, his voice low.

You let out a little laugh, cheeks flushing. “Maybe,” you murmured, your gaze locking with his.

His touch became more deliberate, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned closer. “Well, it’s working,” he whispered, his eyes hard with desire. His fingers brushed against your panties, and he smirked. “God, you’re so wet for me already,” he says in a breathy tone. He let his fingers press gently against the damp fabric, feeling the heat emanating from you. “I can feel how much you want this,” he added, his tone laced with excitement. When his lips finally meet your core, a soft gasp escapes your lips. His tongue flicks out gently, exploring your folds with tender curiosity. You arch your back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips as pleasure courses through you. 

Anton’s movements are deliberate and skilled, something you didn’t know until this very moment. His tongue tracing patterns that make your toes curl. He finds your clit, circling it with gentle pressure, and you bite your lip to mute a louder response. His fingers join in, gently parting your folds to expose your most sensitive spots. He dips a finger inside you, his touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

You squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations he evokes. Anton’s pace quickens slightly, his ministrations driving you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, trying desperately to maintain composure as pleasure builds within you. 

As you near the peak, Anton’s tongue becomes insistent, his fingers working in tandem to bring you to the brink. You struggle to keep your breathing steady, the need to stay quiet intensifying the pleasure. 

Finally, you can’t hold back any longer. With a soft cry that echoes into a stifled whimper, you release over Anton’s fingers, waves of ecstasy washing over you. Anton continues his gentle assault, prolonging your pleasure until you finally relax into your bed. His touch is gentle yet firm as he kisses your inner thigh, then comes up to capture your lips. You respond eagerly, pulling him closer as your hands slide up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles under your touch.

As you both lie together, catching your breath after the intensity of your passion, a thought crosses your mind. You shift slightly, breaking the silence in the room.

“Anton,” you mumble softly, your fingers tracing light patterns on his chest, “do you have a condom?”

Anton meets your gaze with a warm smile, his eyes hooded but still gleaming. He nods and reaches for his tossed pants, retrieving the condom. “Yes,” he replies in a low, reassuring voice, “I came prepared.” he breathes out. Feeling his hardness against you, you instinctively press closer, craving more of his warmth and closeness. The intensity of your mutual desire pulses between you, palpable in every touch, every caress. Anton’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as his lips find yours in a hungry kiss. 

“I want you,” Anton murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with longing and urgency. His confession stirs a response in you, a deep yearning that matches his own. You reciprocate eagerly, your hands threading through his hair as you deepen the kiss, pouring all your passion into that moment.

“Anton,” you whisper, breathlessly, “I’ve been wanting this…wanting you.” As he rolls on the condom with practiced ease, his eyes never leave yours, filled with lust and reverence. You feel his hardness against you, a tangible reminder of his attraction to you. 

“Y/N,” Anton breathes against your ear, his voice thick with need, “Are you sure?” 

You met his gaze with unwavering intensity, your own desire burning brightly. “Yes,” you tell him, your voice tinged with anticipation and longing. “I’m begging you.”

A low growl escapes Anton’s throat at your words, his own yearning mirroring yours. With a swift movement, Anton positions himself above you, his gaze locked in with yours as he enters you slowly. He grunts when he feels your folds pressing against his cock. The sensation of his sizable member filling you up completely sends a rush of pleasure throughout your body. 

You gasp at the intensity of the feeling, arching into him, yearning for more of his touch, more of the overwhelming ecstasy only he can bring. Anton’s movements are deliberate and controlled, each thrust drawing a moan from your lips. “Y/N,” he breathes against your skin, his voice rough, “you feel so good.”

But then, unexpectedly, he changes his rhythm. Instead of deep and penetrating thrusts, Anton begins to move shallow, teasing strokes. Each shallow thrust grazes against your most sensitive spots, sending electric currents of pleasure through you. Your breath hitches as this new sensation overwhelms you, and you find yourself gasping for me.

The teasing trusts drive you wild, making your body tremble with need. “Anton, please,” you whimper, your voice shaky with desire.

He smirks against your neck, enjoying the effect he has on you. “You want more?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his back, your nails digging into his skin. “Harder, please.” 

Anton’s restraints snaps at your plea. He adjusts his position and begins to pound into you with a powerful, relentless pace. Each movement is intense, his hips slamming against yours with a force that makes you cry out in pleasure. The feeling of him driving into you, hard and deep, sends waves of ecstasy crashing through you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

Anton’s hands roam your body, exploring every curve and eliciting shivers of pleasure. His touch firm yet tender, heightening the senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating blend of lust and longing. Desperate for more contact, you whimper softly, your voice thick with need, “Anton, please, touch me.”

With one hand steadying himself beside you, his other hand slides down your body, fingers finding your sensitive bud. He circles it slowly at first, teasingly, before applying just the right amount of pressure and speed that has you arching into him with a cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice trembling, “right there, please don’t stop.” 

Anton’s grin is both wicked and tender as he watches your reactions, his own desire evident in the controlled urgency of his actions. “You look so beautiful when you beg,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. As the tension builds, Anton’s breathing becomes heavier, and his movements become sloppier. You can feel him starting to tremble, his control slipping as he nears his own climax. “Y/N,” he groans, his voice raw and filled with need, “I’m so close.”

“Then come for me,” you whisper, your voice laced with anticipation. Your word spur him on, and with a final, deep thrust, Anton comes undone, his body shuddering with the force of his release. His moan of pleasure raw and primal, his eyes squeezing shut as he surrenders to the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy. The sight and the sound of him losing control sends a rush of heat through you, pushing you closer to your own edge. 

As Anton’s climax subsides, his fingers on your clit maintain their motion, the pressure and speed perfect for driving you over the edge. “I want to see you let go,” he tells you. His words are the final push you need. Your body arches up, and you cry out his name as your orgasm takes over you, each wave more intense than the last. Anton watches you, his eyes filled with admiration, his hand stopping until you are completely spent. 

As the final tremors of your climax fade, you collapse back onto the bed, your breathing heavy and uneven. Anthon gently pulls you into his arms, his touch tender and reassuring. “That was incredible,” he says in a hushed tone. 

You smile up at him, “It really was,” you agree, your voice still breathless. For a moment, you both lie there in the quiet, the intensity of the moment slowly giving way to a warm, comforting afterglow. Anton’s fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, and you snuggle closer to him, feeling content and safe in his embrace. 

Finally, Anton breaks the silence, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. “Y/N, I like that we’re keeping this a secret for now, just to see what we really want.”

You nod, understanding the importance of this discretion. “I agree,” you say, your eyes meeting his. “But whatever this is, I’m glad we’re doing.”

Anton smiles, his eyes shining with affection. “Me too,” he says, pulling you closer.“ The room is filled with a comfortable silence, only the sound of your breathing and occasional creak if the house settles around you. Eventually, Anton shifts slightly, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t want this to end, but I should probably go before Sohee comes upstairs.”

“You’re right,” you say softly. With one last lingering touch, Anton slips out of bed and begins to gather his clothes. As he dresses, you can’t help but stare at his body, still in awe at how good he looks. Anton pauses at the door, glancing back at you with a smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Anton,” you reply, your heart full as you watch him leave. The door closes softly behind him, and you lie back on the bed, a contented smile on your face. 

[cxvii666]

TENNN I’m doing ur thingy congrats!! <3!!

Name: Haley

Age: 21

Pronouns: she/her

Sexual orientation: bisexual

Guilty pleasure fanfic trope: ngl.. slow burn friends to lovers or like FWB catching feelings

Preferred fandom: bnha (but I just started JJK so lowkey Wtv u want)

Favorite first date idea: art museums and/ or some type of live music

Favorite album: hard ass question but I gotta say Szas SOS

Screen time: 9hrs (yikes)

Live life status: 😔

“your perfect match is...”

... HITOSHI SHINSOU

“moments stolen taste better”

wc: 510

"oh will you hurry up, i swear to god, if we miss the first set-"

"you're the one who spent like 15 minutes reapplying that lip stuff thats gonna fucking wipe off once you eat or drink literally anything-"

you and hitoshi were, i wouldn't say running, maybe speed walking, through the city. for some reason there were loads of people out tonight, probably not going to the same venue as you, but still in the same direction. it was still early. not early in the day, it was maybe around 8pm, but early in the sense that the night was still young. there were overpriced drinks to down, songs to scream, places to go, people to see.

you guys had just left the station after he'd shown up to your place about an hour ago now, tired of waiting for you to call when you were ready 'just gimme another five minutes i swear'. you don't know why he's complaining now when he'd been sitting on your bed controlling the music on your speakers with your phone in one hand, and playing some stupid mobile game on his phone with the other hand. denki had put him on and it had taken up all his attention and he had seemed perfectly content to let you spend an extra 20 minutes or so fixing your appearance.

you lead the way elbows out determined not to miss the start of the show. hitoshi however, seemed to think it'd be super fucking funny to decide that today was the day he wasn't gonna speed off ahead of you with his long ass legs and instead tag behind walking at the literal slowest pace possible.

and yeah maybe you'd spent a little extra time getting ready, but you wanted to look good and that gave him no excuse to be pissy, not when you were the one who had paid for the tickets and invited him out , re spent 20 minutes on the phone that day begging him to leave the comfort of his room and come out with you tonight as your friend had cancelled last minute. he had complained, he had to, a small "no im tired" and a "ugh why are you even asking me, you don't have other friends or what?" but hitoshi was sweet on you so of course, he said yes.

and right now, he was doing his best to rile you up, maybe he had a thing for angry girls idk, and it was working.

"please, dont piss me off rn," you say as he slows down at the crossing for the third time. "there's not even any cars on the road."

"what you don't care about pedestrian safety not very-"

you actually can't take his snarky little attitude anymore, and you grab his bicep and drag him along behind you. he's in shock for a moment like he was surprised you snapped so early on into the night, before snickering and giving into the weight of your arm pulling him through the crowded streets.

HIIIIII!!! i hope you liked this one!!! @twoplayergaymers i think ur really cool and GUYS SHE WRITES REALL GOOD TOO so i hope you like ur pairing 😝

if you wanna be matched next my inbox is OPENNNNN

[silusvesuius]

unleashing the same hellscape i did on my notes app here it's my nelvas thinking dump i wrote just for fun and to keep track of what i view them as up 2 this point. Might change my mind on it later on it has a lot of things written in brackets for no reason . it's like ~2500 words long which isn't much but i think i said everything i've had in my mind for now read it for fun if you like to have fun leik me :) And talvas :) And nelothxP

retyping what i said in the tags of those last text posts and rearranging those thoughts a bit: in my train of thought that's been going steady since early 2024 i'm almost certain that neloth might see talvas as the epitome of being morally Clean (before that changes because of neloth's influence over him) and generally pure as a person. pure not used in the Pervert way; neloth is just a veeery big fan of talvas having absolutely no backbone and being very docile when it comes to him. which is r expected traits 4 someone if they find themselves under neloth's thumb as an apprentice, but it being written that he isn't at all catty and defiant to his face is cute. all talvas manages to do is shit talk neloth to others and pray neloth doesn't find out he meant the things he said but also can’t help feeling bad about it, even though neloth doesn't and wouldn't care, if he found out. neloth is happy with being an obnoxious & disgusting person. truly.. him growing obsessed with talvas' docile and innocent nature doesn't necessarily have to add up to him wanting to Taint or Ruin him (and if it happens ((it does)) it's not done on purpose, neloth can't hold that much control and power of his actions in that specific department). he encounters difficulties when he realizes he actually wants that Elven Twink.. it's too far gone to fix anything after he's tampered with talvas' patience and stability, and even then he can't be honest with talvas about anything, because he still wants to hold a great deal of power over him (neloth essentials for survival).

Might be the type to just want talvas to magically(haha) think it's okay that his wizard master desires him and expect that energy right back without talvas actually acknowledging it because it'd make neloth feel insanely cringy and embarrassed.. humiliated.. EVEN. but that's just in a deep deep dark corner of his mind, he isn't stupid. when trying to gain 'access' to his apprentice ("*His* apprentice" is also kinda funny way of viewing his mind too. just cause talvas is working as an apprentice under him neloth probably already feels a concerning sense of ownership over him that makes him feel very good) he can't even make the signs of interest be apparent to talvas because he's insanely inept at being Soft and honest for obvious reasons. he can tell what possibly could make talvas warm up to him even after he treats him like shit for eons but there's no way he's bringing himself to do it (change is embarrassing, especially in their formal dynamic, and especially at his age). so it's a half-assed attempt (actually he's trying his hardest🙄) to try and make talvas be (at least) less afraid of him. not that talvas has any other place that we know of that he "Belongs" to, he just sticks with neloth regardless of anything. neloth watching him as he sleeps ensues . Guys what do i do to make my apprentice let me hit because all of the eye contact i do with him while gripping his arm or petting his knee isn't helping. 

if we were to go back to how that spark is ignited in neloth swamp of a heart, brain… idk, it has to be when he realizes talvas' capability of forgiveness and 'Sucking it up' instead of lashing out at neloth after .. anything, but perhaps physical abuse in particular. neloth a 100% has absolutely no problem putting his hands on anyone, especially someone he sees so often, such as talvas. not that talvas really annoys him (his clear and voiced obedience pleases neloth as anyone can tell), but he just doesn't see it as too much of a big deal. the physical mistreatment that happens once in a blue moon isn't intense enough to scare off talvas for sure anyways. neloth is a bitch so all he can so is smack him at the back of the head (talvas finds it very normal) and slap him if he's feeling festive (something talvas finds kinda extreme but not that it happens often. he sometimes feels like he deserves it, or that neloth is warranted to do as he pleases. he tosses around it being justified or pitying himself, though). May be possible that neloth would realize he Like Likes talvas once he slaps him, mayhaps, for the first time, but talvas' immediate reaction to being treated like that is just sadness mixed with feeling shame for tearing up/crying in front of someone he respects *bishoujo sparkles sfx*. talvas is a delicate soul so he can't hold warranted emotions like that for long, and even tho it's expected of him to be making eye contact w/ neloth in a setting like that, he wouldn't be able 2 bring himself to do it because looking at neloth would make him wanna burst out in tears like a weeeee baby. Booo hooo.. talvas is the 19th century (4th era) damsel that runs out of the ball in tears after no young cavalier invited her to dance. watch this bleed into the most awkward and silent week of neloth's entire life because talvas doesn't even really feel like speaking to him or looking at him, but neloth doesn't wanna brute force the usual respectful etiquette out of him cus he thinks that's just gonna make talvas hurl himself down on some rough rocks at the seashore. Good thing talvas is very spineless and forgiving (especially in relation to neloth… i mean.. who r YOU to not forgive him) so that might just last a day or two. the hurt always stays tho. neloth this is why talvas doesn't wanna smash you.. you might've made some conclusions about what elven twink you like but talvas is just even more scared of you now. was your Pervert awakening worth it. and even if we do backflips and jump thru the point where everything is too far gone for either of them to go back, dude is still too afraid to make out with his apprentice. Deserve. but why though because talvas wouldn't refuse. for what reason? we may never know

^^^ this makes me feel like i love seeing characters i reaaaalllly love (elenwen and talvas in this case) as enigmas in situations where they're confronted with something so ""Intimate"". elenwen's stance on this is final tho cause she's a grown ass woman and there's no way you could reshape her brain. ulfric left her mind plane in SHAMBLES. talvas has more right (in the literal sense) to be erratic or inconsistent with his actions. maybe he likes to be desired. Also i strongly believe that talvas has probably never been in love (for any reason rly but it's mostly him not having actual time for it + not seeing it as something that is important to him at that point in his life)… i want neloth to be his first experience with Love so that it ruin his view on it forever. can't get myself to say he'd be in love with neloth at any point though. From his standpoint it really should feel empowering and 'nice' that neloth wants him in many ways (ew).. cause that's a man with status.. power.. ability to do anything rly . talvas is in no condition to be playing mind games with him or anything tho so don't get that idea. he's not strong enough of a person to be Tricking anyone or to be Playing with anyone's feelings. neloth would be immune to that, too. neloth can just kinda tell talvas is too good and … UNTAINTED. talvas wants to see the best in everyone. too bad he genuinely detests you, neloth.. so: he doesn't actually love neloth but wouldn't be happy to see his tombstone either. SO (PART TWO): if you time it right he wouldn't be against getting Freakkkkyyyy with you okay?but no promises

even if @ some point talvas develops indistinct feelings towards neloth cause of neloth's own incessant weird-mild advances it wouldn't have to mean he just likes old men permanently now. actually it kinda does. i can sorta feel it rearranging his braincells and making him unable to normally interact with people in his age range. he probably already had a hard time talking to others in hopes of developing a friendship just cause he's timid but after neloth's nonstop abuse and Accidental romance mind games he morphs into a whole new type of guy. it's hard to notice at first but he'd probably just start to leech off of neloth's prissy and unbearable personality in a natural course of things + neloth is the only person he sees and talks to on the regular pretty much. < this can just be reworded as just the cycle of abuse and whatnot. if he notices an opening in the abilities and Smarts of another person, especially someone his age/younger, he will automatically see them as umm…stupid. and also insult your abilities to your face if he snaps. he strikes me as the type to be afraid to say what he really thinks (another consequence of being glued to neloth all the time when all talvas does is act like he totally respects anything he says) and gets scared if anything slips out his mouth but is proud in letting the "Truth" be known because he already figured out you're a lesser being than him. he's just cloning neloth's verbal abuse braincells though he would never put his hands on someone. his desire to be mean and see himself as superior stems from neloth always disparaging him obviously.. talvas 4 that reason is very self conscious of his abilities and doesn't rly think he's all that useful or talented. his self doubt then would play into how he doesn't know when to believe what others are saying to and about him.. i wanna imagine that talvas is very oblivious to neloth's weirdo status just cause he partly doesn't even want that thought to cross his mind. i bet everyone but him sees it and finds it gross😕 but nobody in the vicinity is strong enough to tell neloth that he should be ashamed LMFAO. if you would try and even hint to talvas that it's happening he'd never take you seriously and just get mad. he's protective of neloth's image more than neloth himself is; not that people knowing neloth has abnormal sodomistic inclinations toward his apprentice would make his public image worse than it already is (everyone already thinks he's weird so it's not shocking at all) but talvas still wouldn't wanna hear it cause he thinks it's just false. maybe he's just ashamed that he's being brought into the whole thing. also because he doesn't wanna face the reality EJI23JRIO32KJ Well talvas when neloth makes an actual move on you don't say that we didn't warn you.. we're all waiting till neloth's status as an obvious apprentice-pervert becomes obvious to you

even if he's willingly ignorant of the fact he still thinks of the 'accusations' a lot when he feels like it. and unknowingly begins feeling even more uncomfortable in neloth's presence. heart starts beating faster and everything. neloth could come up to him meters away and talvas would still cover his mouth in realization and be like "i knew it… the DB told me but i didn't wanna believe it …..😦 so you really do like young men … and you're in love with me ..😨" *Neloth wakes up from this fever dream drenched in sweat* < neloth doesn't want (obvi) talvas to react that way at any point because he himself would just get scared so they'd just be staring at each other wide eyed. but talvas jumping into his advances isn't what he wants either (that'll also scare him). neloth is still relying on talvas' politeness to let him do as he pleases. but it is impossible for talvas to let it slide without questioning anything regardless so🤷‍♀️ take your few Ls and move on. neloth just wants talvas to sit on his lap. wants to spoonfeed him soup. he's so romantic. he also wants to(sniper on rooftop blows my head to bits). neloth is actually a pretty touchy feely person when he's feeling Frisky (=deranged about talvas). I'm certain his favorite part of talvas' body is his legs. talvas has beautiful young man skipping leg day legs. so nothing special at all but neloth wants to touch them lol.. let your master wizard squeeze your calves and he might just be occupied enough like a kid playing with a fidget toy to not abuse you verbally for 3 seconds. as i said befoar neloth is unpleasant with his touch because he doesn't know how to be soft + doesn't even want it to necessarily feel very 'rewarding' as to not pamper talvas. petting talvas kinda turns into a nervous habit for himself and an instrument of some sort of Reassurance 4 talvas when he wants him to know he’s not mad, for example. non-vebal confirmation. talvas still finds it weird but thinks it’s a charm point too. neloth wouldn't even be against touching him familiarly in front of others but only in a "older male figure" ways ex. touching his knee or putting his hand at the back of his neck (talvas sees it as some sort of disciplinary tactic though). physical touch that matches neloth's age and is enough for it to be seen as not necessarily romantic / overtly weird. 

there'ssssss no saving talvas after such a powerful person gets his hands on him. any will to leave would leave HIM either out of fear or out of attachment and neloth wouldn't just let him go (Alive at least) since he knows the things he knows. if talvas were to escape i'm a Truther of him not feeling in place and wanting to go back cause it's the stability that he's used to. but tbh if he encounters neloth on accident anywhere he's gonna start running. I was drinking tea while writing this and started choking on it i just nearly died writing this are youhappy. anyways, nelvas is a never-ending abusive relationship that doesn’t even have High highs, all it has is low lows. neloth always mistreats talvas for any reason but is never genuinely kind from the heart or out of remorse. .. hmm……yeah. I forgot to type this back out from my posts tags > talvas might just start viewing neloth as fuck crazy and demented after he Finally notices at least one molecular sign of gay attention from him . like ‘Oh wow Master Neloth obviously doesn’t get any female attention or anything cus he’s a sick fuck why does he have to search for it from me Can varona take the hit for me 🥺 *sees her dead body being dragged by the DB* hmm i guess not well i’ll figure something out i guess’ (he doesn’t) also the dialogue talvas has with varona after he steals neloth’s book trying to conjure some bs up will always be so cute to me he’s so defensive and afraid of neloth finding out. Him trying to decipher neloth’s handwriting is cute TOO ik their 19th century love letters to each other would go crazy and make sense to anyone but each other but i’m not gonna talk about 19th century girl talvas x neloth rn it’s too much . what ever. i think i’m done thank you i should just go back to drawing them as grecian pottery red figures or smthj Fun stats for you 4 getting to the end: times the word ‘abuse’ is used: 6

[heymrspatel]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

i was tagged by @jrooc @stocious @michellemisfit @thepupperino @doshiart @sgtmickeyslaughter @gallapiech @blue-disco-lights @mmmichyyy @lingy910y @pookiebearmick @gallawitchxx @energievie and @gardenerian thank you lovelies!

Name and A03 handle: julissa | heymrspatel

Current Location: on my couch, slowly melting into the cushions. i'm so tired.

Favorite picrew (don't have one? you can skip this or do this one)? these two for sure! i think they capture my vibe well lol one & two

What's one thing you want in a picrew? ah! well, since i often start them i have a list of things that i usually look for to make sure that they're inclusive. sometimes i forget to check for certain things and then i'm annoyed lmao.

but ideally: big selection of skin tones, undercuts, the option for tied hair, short haircuts, different types of hair textures and colors, facial hair, scars, and big big ups if there's an option to change face shapes! THIS IS SERIOUS BUSINESS!

for me though: curly hair and big blushy (and fangs if available)

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? oh this is hard. i'll say, fluffy art: "doesn't matter where we go man", spicy art: "i need you to touch me"

Why is it your favourite? fluffy: because i went crazy with the details. i love that it tells a story. i love the colors i used. i love that pane of them watching the sunset. i love hands - hand on thigh, hand kiss, hand under shirt.

spicy: so. much. skin. i love all the positions i put them in. i love how it's sensual and teasing but you can't really see any of the "action" haha. tongues and chain and bruising. i love hands - hand in mouth, hand on neck, hand in hair.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? HARD! lmao everything i make is hard to me. some things come easier now, but i really do drag my limp body all the way to the end.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? "keep you by my side" by biblionerd07!

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? ...things beyond mistake. i'm glad most of us are on the same painful page.

Favorite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? i love friends/fwb to lovers and slice of life and outsider povs! also, only one bed or when they get stuck somewhere alone. ooooooh and i LOVE a good texting fic!

Least favourite? eeeh very iffy on the kid fics, depends on the writer. or mpreg. or big deaths.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? idk that anything's a secret? i'm out here giving you guys full visuals during kinktober...

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? ah- very vulnerable. accomplished but nervous. i literally post and run away.

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: i usually keep whatever i'm working on under wraps for no reason other than i'm self conscious! but @whatthebodygraspsnot always cheers me on and is the most supportive and sends me the most eloquent keyboard smashes to keep a girl going!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? scroll through tumblr and, when my brain is cooperating on reading (it hasn't been), turn to my comfort fics!

i'm skipping the tag cause i'm late and i'm feeling weird! but i hope everyone's having a nice night/day/time zone!! 💙

[dual-domination]

I was reading the most recent chapter of In endless mist and rain, and I reread the tags for possible updates, but so far Weilanxie doesn't appear listed as a relationship, just its three side/inner ships. Avid fan here, I'll continue following the fic regardless of how the ships form or break up, but out of curiosity: does the lack of the Weilanxie tag indicate that there won't be a polyamorous relationship between them? Because despite the most recent events, I don't think this configures a love triangle in any way and the fic doesn't have the tag either. Can you talk a little about what to expect from the ships?

Even though the answer doesn't contain explicit spoilers, some parts are plot revelations in some way, so long text under the cut.

This is actually a very complicated question. Does this fic have polyamorous relationship? Off screen, if you count V shaped Xiao Hua/Hei Xiazi/Zhang Qiling, yet it’s only hinted that Xiao Hua is part of this relationship somehow/more than a friend, than yes - off screen because Xiao Hua doesn’t appear in any scene along with Xiazi and Xiaoge so far and as both Xiazi and Xiaoge are my characters, I’m not planning on having any scene like that, so it’s more a ‘their relationship may or may not be polyamorous/probably is platonic’ - is left for the reader’s taste and interpretation. Why am I including them in the answer of an ask about Weilanxie? Because Idk if having or not polyamory in a fic in general is the issue here or not.

We do have one(1) main character that is, in fact, polyamorous (the label never appears on screen, but the identity is there). One of them is not, like, definitely. We (me and @tazzy-ace) noticed a while ago that this character has the opposite feelings of a polyamorous person, yet he circumstantially finds himself in a very different mindset of a standard (western) monogamous person. I treasure the way I build my characters and I’m not willing to change him, so maybe he’ll end up being the the impeding factor of actual polyamorous relationship happening (or being the endgame here). We don’t have A THING outlined, we write out of vibes, this is how we made this fic work, so we don’t really know the ending of this. We have the goal of bringing a happy ending, and considering that this is a romantic story in the first place, a happy ending includes at least one ship staying together - will this happen? Maybe not, maybe the best ending for them will be to stay all apart (Eh, probably this won’t be the ending skjjsskj this is me being dramatic, but it’d be more likely to happen than the 3 of them ending in a polyamorous relationship). But what about a V shaped one? Not impossible, I’d say, exactly because the characters and the vibes both me and Deputy Chief have when writing new content for this fic is what decides the plot. So I don’t believe we’ll have the Weilanxie and the Happy Ending tags until the day we write the last chapter for real to know.

About the Love Triangle - elements of traditional love triangles such as rivalry, unrequited love and jealousy are not present in the story, we could say that no, it’s not a suitable tag/label. But in the sense that one of the characters will be somehow romantically involved with the two other ones for a while - which doesn't exactly constitute cheating, but I can't explain further without giving spoilers - so yes, somehow you could say that a love triangle exists. 

What to expect from the ships? Each one, you mean? Everything gets much worse before it gets any better, with all of them. With some, things get much worse more than once - we’re working hard to provide more Angst than we already had in this 125k posted.

Weilan and Shenxie share the place under the spotlight when it comes to ‘screentime’ and relationship development (or ruining relationship too kjssjjk). We didn’t make any of the relationships simple and if you thought that romance between one of the Guardian mains + any grave robber from DMBJ is already unlikely to happen/hard to develop with them being their canon selves, for canon reasons, believe me, we made it even harder. You can expect pain and smut. More pain than smut, I’m sorry. (Yet this fic is rated E and properly tagged about its sexual content, there’s not even one sex scene that happens for the sake of smut in itself, all sex is contextual and meaningful, no matter how horny it is, we put extra efforts in the emotional part of this).

Polyamory to be depicted as realistic, is a delicate thing, and as I said above, one of our main characters is not polyamorous, one of them is (and the third one ehh I won’t reveal rn), so you can expect to see both sides of it: someone comfortable about how he feels and how he sees his (supposed/potential) relationships, as well as someone who’s confused, trying his best, but in the end, really uncomfortable about the possibilities. No side/identity is portrayed as being better than the other, or as being more correct than the other. But the ‘polyamory is the solution for love triangles’ is definitely not what we want here. Because polyamory can’t be forced, being polyamorous is NOT a decision (if you’re queer, you know what I mean). At the same time we’ll have the picture of a polyamorous person being happy in a monogamous relationship (or with only one partner, if you prefer), we’ll have someone that doesn’t have as lifegoal a romantic relationship (except if it’s WITH ONE VERY SPECIFIC PERSON). Could he be read as aro? No. (But you can read him like that, if you want). His lack of romantic interest in general is part of his upbringing, the part of his culture that his life is based upon, and some more circumstances, but it’s not an identity. Could he be read as ace? A bit, but not really. Same explanation about the aro identity. We had long discussions about how these labels are useful HERE, but they wouldn’t be the case depending on a person’s culture and upbringing.

So yeah, this character that is not polyamorous won’t be labeled as this or that, he’s just himself, that’s all. I’ll leave to the readers to see what they want to see there in him (and please, don’t try to push on me - an ace and married person - this harmful idea that aro and/or ace people can’t/shouldn’t be in a romantic/sexual relationship).

All that said, this fic is not about polyamory, like some of my other fics and several of Tazzy's other fics. That's not part of the central themes, it's the identity of one of the main characters and may or may not influence (for better or worse) their relationships in the future.

[jacobseed]

WIP // LAST LINE // MUSIC MONDAY

all in one bc i'm so so behind but i was tagged by @imogenkol @ruvviks, @g0dspeeed @tommyarashikage (i think that was everyone im sorry) to post wips and last lines of wips and idk what music monday is but like lets goooo

there's a lot in this so i'm so sorry lmao its been awhile since i've posted a wip or even finished writing a fic wow

some ronan x ellis i started writing on the plane a month ago

“Did you find it?” He called from the kitchen.  She hadn’t, for her attention was caught by something else. Underneath a stack of books was a wanted poster with a crude drawing and her name in bold letters - her name she knew, but the rest of the words on the page was unreadable. The eyes were too dark, the scars more angry and grotesque, and the hair was short. It was clear this was the work of someone who hadn't seen her in person but only heard the frightened words of bystanders who caught sight of her. Word of her infamy wouldn’t have reached as far as the small town of Faith and how he had come by a poster of her was unclear. Ellis holds the paper steady in her hands, eyeing the curve of the other woman's smile before turning around and heading back for the kitchen.  Ronan looks up and his curiosity falters as their eyes met. “Ms. Cooper?” She drops the poster in front of him and pins it to the table with her knife, the blade through the caricature's throat. With the other hand she grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him closer. “Where did you get this?” A quick glance to the paper and back. He holds his hands up and attempts to calm her rage down. “I can explain, but you have to let me go.” “I don’t think so. You can talk just fine like this.”

uuuuh rian / maxi / ghost anyone?

"Those two seem to be getting close lately." "Who is?" Ghost questions with clear disinterest, not even glancing towards his friend. A soft hum is his answer before any verbal response. He was hesitating. "Sinclair and Brennan." His gaze flickers to his friend and then follows the direction he is looking to find the two in question standing beside each other. The Irishman has his arm draped over the woman's shoulders, leaning down close. Maxine has the faintest hint of a smile on her lips but she doesn't shrug the man off. Rian's hand brushes over hers as he takes the knife she held and flips it around. Ghost feels his hand twitch and he's thankful for his mask to hide what he could only assume would be the expression of annoyance. "So? That's good she's getting along with someone." "Is it?" Soap teases, shrugging as he stands from his seat. "Then I better do the same - what if they get married? Then he'll be family."

LAST LINE(s)

"For fucks sake, Theo. How many people are you sleeping with? Next, you're going to tell me you're fucking one of the Seeds, huh?" Nathaniel can't conceal his anger - no, not his anger, but frustration for having such a reckless niece. Theo clicks her tongue and crosses her arms over her chest. "Really don't think this is something I should be discussing with my uncle." A stifling moment of silence doesn't have time to settle when Nathaniel speaks again. "You're not going to deny fucking one of the Seeds?"

and lastly my music monday contribution, enjoy this

tagging everyone again i'm sorry @strangefable @anoramactir @firstaidspray @pitchmoss @pavus @florbelles @carrionsflower @thedeadthree @roberthouse69 @carlosoliveiraa @shellibisshe @statichvm @risingsh0t @hollytanaka @confidentandgood @leviiackrman @bigbywlf @samuelroukin @cryptcombat @beemot @tekehu @evilvvithin @red-nightskies @pheedraws

[taglist opt in]

i apologize that this is writing and not everyone wanted to be tagged in writing but if you have any wips or just want to do the music thing, that's fine to!!

[nakanotamu]

I can't stop thinking about Tam & Kamitani. I can't get over how much this feels like Kamitani's story, not Tam's, I just can't figure out if I think a win or a loss would be better for her. It really clicked for me once Tam highlighted that Kamitani was saying everything started to go wrong for her when she injured herself against Tam and was blaming Tam for everything. Kamitani isn't happy in HATE. I mean not that she's not enjoying herself heeling. But she isn't happy as a person. Losing the High Speed belt was framed as losing the last thing she had, leaving her with absolutely nothing. I believe Natsuko and Momo got in her head well, well before that, but that was the last thing, that was when she had nothing left and no reason not to follow through with their big scheme. And she still has nothing. The QQ vs OT cagematch was framed as Kamitani choosing Utami over Momo - not QQ, Utami. Then Kamitani got injured, then came back with Utami. Won the tag belts with Utami. It was gonna be okay, she was gonna put it back together. Then Utami left. "Abandoned" Stardom. Abandoned her. And she immediately petitioned Momo to rejoin QQ. Do you think that was coincidental??? She was never a leader, not really. Maybe she wanted to be, but she didn't have it in her. Things spiralled out of control and they led to the loser disbands match. Kamitani was the only QQ member who tagged out at any point in that match. Hina eliminated her sister, and every other QQ elimination was done by AZM. That was the last QQ match, and it said: QQ was always AZM. And Kamitani was the least dedicated member. It was never about QQ for her. Momo and Natsuko do a whole fake turn just to taunt her. "Isn't this fun? Isn't this what you want, isn't it great and easy getting to tag with Momo again? Well you're not getting that anywhere except for with us you fucking idiot." Except even since she joined HATE, she STILL hasn't gotten that. Momo won the tag belts with Thekla like a week before she got there and has shown no interest in her whatsoever. Kamitani got played AGAIN. And she says she doesn't care about anything any more, none of it matters and she just wants to watch the world burn now. Hating Maika and bitterness towards everyone drives her through to 2nd place in the 5 Star, but she comes up short. So for Tag League she says whatever, I don't even care, none of this matters to me, starting with a losing streak and ending with middling results despite teaming with Konami. But this is Saya Fucking Kamitani. She's The Girl Who Cares Too Much, about every single thing ever all the time.

And she's still not happy, nothing's working out, there's no one to take it out on bc she can't blame her new teammates or she'll be left with nothing again, she can't blame the person she wants to bc Utami's not here now. But she pinned Tam. And Tam has something that would give her Value again. She needs an enemy, and someone to blame, and suddenly she gets this huge opportunity against the person who brought her to wrestling, someone who would give her anything, would be anything for her.

And now they just lie at each other and spit venom and hate that this how things are and won't admit it. Kamitani says Tam ruined her life and this is her fault. Tam says Kamitani is a completely different person than who she cared about and if that's what she wants she'll put her out of her misery. And, crucially, they're Both Lying. Because they can't shut up about each other and their past and how much they mean to each other. Even Tam commented on how much she wrote about her right after being like "idk that bitch any more she's not who she used to be." At the end of the day, cards on the table and nothing left to be said, they both hate that they're here and that they don't see any way out but through each other. All of Tam's best matches are against someone she doesn't even want to fight and are about her trying to find a way to hate them, and Kamitani is trying to find someone to hate, and now that there's no way out neither of them even wants to be here, but there's no choice any more.

I'm way too anxious about this match, too invested, to have any sort of prediction. I'm also just really worried they'll do too much and someone'll get hurt. It's a match that I absolutely couldn't bring myself to watch live that I'll also have trouble sleeping through. I'm going to be checking my phone very nervously first thing tomorrow. I think probably no matter what happens I'm going to be devastated and excited. I just - once I started thinking about it I couldn't stop. About how Kamitani's been Tam's chosen successor, over and over, in so many ways. About how much this match reminds me of when Tam realized she loved Arisa too much to fight her even if she had to, when she realized she didn't have it in her to make herself hate Natsupoi any more. About how Tam was only in Oedo Tai for 6 months. And I can't help but wonder if "one of them goes over, has the belt going forward and that's that", one and done, is too simple for a show this big and Stardom's style right now. Is too simple for either of these two. Because what if. What if.