#just gotta make it through grad school

[simple-and-cozy-life]

Can't wait to be a mom someday

[yuwuta]

gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date 

[christinegrrl]

Full thesis draft clocking in at 65 pages 😭

[cardigan-jam]

Stressing cause the internships I applied for have been silent like no response nothing so I'm like ???? What do I do now

[inkskinned]

for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.

i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.

in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.

the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.

i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.

i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.

i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.

the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.

when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.

we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.

[seokshinedk]

Powering my way through the day with both coffee AND green tea. Today warrants some double-dipping.

[daisynik7]

test drive

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one.  Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, do you think we should break up?”

The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”

It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?

You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”

He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”

“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?” 

He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive. 

“It’s not going to be easy.”

He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”

You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him. 

Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”

He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.

“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”

You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it. 

“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?

“Eren,” you beg, sniffling

“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze. 

“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”

“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.

That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did. 

The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse. 

It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now. 

That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago. 

Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s. 

Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.

Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you. 

You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed. 

So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on. 

The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his. 

The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead? 

Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.

He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time. 

As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.

He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you. 

You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”

This is going to be harder than you thought. 

~~~

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years. 

Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever. 

It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on. 

Move on. Yeah right.

He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted? 

He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.

When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out. 

What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan. 

When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan. 

He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot. 

She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected. 

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”

She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”

He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself. 

She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”

“Yup.”

She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”

He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”

He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?” 

Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?

She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”

“Still the passenger princess, I see.” 

“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors. 

He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is 

Fuck the plan. 

~~~

You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed. 

He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.

He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak. 

Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”

You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. 

After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you. 

When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”

He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”

The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”

“I never wanted to in the first place.”

Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”

“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.” 

His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you. 

You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”

He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.  

“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair. 

“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”

“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”

Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”

He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”

Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”

Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”

You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”

Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”

He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”

Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”

“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip. 

You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”

You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him. 

You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine. 

“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more. 

“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”

It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face. 

“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking. 

Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”

He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance. 

You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together. 

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.

“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression. 

“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose. 

“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”

You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”

You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”

He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”

“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”

He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”

“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.

“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours. 

“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”

He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”

You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | eight.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 9.3k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, we see prof choi in full professor mode in this chapter rawrrrr, NAS (or NSA, i know i might've said both lmao same thing!) conference is here - time for everyone to get buck wild! jk lol, san gets slightly jealous, bar scenes, alcohol consumption/intoxication, unprotected sex, cowgirl 🤠, san x oc are just super cute and sweet per usual, iono ppl are onto them tho lol, some insecurities coming to surface

—a/n: a lil hongjoong piece for those who need it <33

"San." You pick up the phone as you start packing up the last bits of necessities into your luggage. You'd be out of town throughout the weekend until early next week— trying to get the full experience of the NAS conference for the first time.

"Hey baby." You smile to yourself. "All packed up?"

"Mhm. We're about to head to the airport in a few minutes."

"Can't wait to see you at some point." You let out a small laugh, knowing it'll be somewhat hard to be with San and to stay with him during the time you're out there. But, you hope you can at least make a night or something work— San has been too busy since he's gotten there. You're barely able to talk to him unless he's back at the hotel and resting; then, he falls asleep quickly. You know he's been working hard to deliver his talks in between meeting with colleagues he hasn't seen in awhile. Preparing for his highly anticipated lecture for the NAS conference.

You're hoping you'll get your alone time with him and get away from your friends for a little bit.

"You've been busy. Gotta get ready for all that partying too, huh Professor Choi?"

—FLASHBACK

"Are you ready to present at the NAS conference?" You sit criss-crossed on the table while Sunwoo sits next to you, the both of you indulging in the hot breakfast and coffee set out for lab meeting. 

"Shit, that's a good question." You laugh. "I don't think I'll ever be."

"You'll do great." You nudge him playfully. "That's why Professor Choi is here to chew your ass out first before you present it to the public."

"You're right. I'd rather have him chew my ass out than anyone else." San walks in with a few people from the lab trailing in behind, and you instantly feel the butterflies swarming your gut. He's dressed pretty casually today— jeans, a loose fitting shirt and a cardigan, his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His cheeks are a rosy tint, soft, black hair framing his face.

"Morning!" He says, sitting in a chair in the first row. "The NAS conference is coming up and we've got about five people from the lab presenting posters. Let's take this time to go through them and discuss any edits or changes before finalizing them." He looks over to you and Sunwoo. "Sunwoo, wanna go first?"

"Not really, but I'll do it for you." You snort, the rest of the lab chuckling in their seats. Sunwoo hops off the table and plugs in his laptop— his poster quickly coming up on the projector screen. "10 minutes?" San nods.

"Try to keep it within 10 minutes, yeah." San leans over onto his knees, focusing on Sunwoo's poster while the rest of the lab listens intently as he presents his projects and relevant data. Sunwoo is speaking quickly, but clearly, trying to cover every important point before his 10-min mark is up. Every now and then, you find your eyes glazing over San and how incredibly sexy he is all focused and in professor mode—

You need to focus.

It doesn't help any further when Sunwoo finishes his presentation and San starts going into detail about the things he should remove from his poster, things he should focus on, even things like:

"And the titles on your poster should be your results." San points up at the screen. "Cause I promise this is great, but it'll be even better if you let your audience know what the result is right off the bat so they know what they can focus on right away. If you keep it vague, you might lose them." San furrows his brows. "Can you go to the middle panel really quickly?" Sunwoo fixes the presentation to San's liking. "Yeah, I think you should add the figure that you left out cause that was the key point. That difference you saw between A and B would be the highlight. It doesn't matter if it feels small, people are gonna wanna see it because it's data. And in your case, it's data that contributes to what your end goal was."

"Yessir!" Sunwoo types away to make sure he captures all the suggestions. Others start throwing their hands up to give Sunwoo more edits that they feel would be appropriate, along with making sure small typos get fixed before then. San looks around the room once the suggestions have died down, eyes quickly landing on you [and now Belle on your other free side] before praising Sunwoo for the poster and calling up the next presenter.

"Goodjob." Belle chuckles as he plops down next to you, letting out a deep sigh.

"Thank god for Professor Choi. I dunno how I'mma do this."

"You'll be fine! You did great up there. Your poster was already good, just add the minor tweaks and it'll be even better." You add.

"My hype women. Thanks." You both laugh and shake your head before listening in on the next poster presentation. The four other presentations go on just as Sunwoo's did— 10 minute presentations followed by San's feedback, along with the lab's. You chime in a few times on coloring choices for graphs and images, pointing out typos and suggesting better titles for some panels as well. San smiles toothlessly at you while he listens, overwhelmed by eagerness to kiss you. Hold you. Show you off.

But, he settles for a nod and a 'thank you' for the suggestions. Giving you one last smile before he turns to the lab around him.

"Any other questions?"

"Professor Choi, tell us about your wild times at NAS." San laughs.

"Sorry to break it to you guys, but I definitely don't have any wild stories from NAS." 

"It seemed to be so much crazier when you and the other professors started going a couple of years ago."

"I'm not a fossil." San teases, making the lab laugh. "But, yeah. I guess you could say that. There were lots of after parties throughout the week. If not, people always bar hopped at the bars nearby. I hung out a few times, but never got as wasted."

"It's cause he had Iseul." Belle whispers with a small head tilt. "She even took his fun away. Damn."

"Belle." You look at her and playfully squeeze her arm.

"What! Serious. I still can't believe her." She does a tiny huff and sits back against the wall.

"You should probably ask Professor Bahng or Professor Song for their wild stories cause they definitely had some." San smiles back at the lab.

"Oh, come on Professor Choi! Don't be so shy!" San laughs and shakes his head before standing.

"Any other questions? Great posters, by the way. Send me the final versions by next week so you all have time to print and get it sorted out before the conference."

—END

"Oh, certainly." He playfully rolls his eyes. "I know it's been hectic, and I'm sorry, sweetheart. I keep running into people I haven't seen so I get pulled into last minute things." San sighs a bit, running his hand down his face. "I gotta get ready to meet up with Chris and Mingi. But, I promise we'll get our time down here."

"I know, that's okay. Comes with dating a well known, brilliant professor, I guess." He laughs. "Have fun with them!"

"I miss you."

"I miss you, too." It's scary how much time you've spent with San over the past weeks because now, you're getting used to carving out time and being with him. On the weekends. Slipping out late nights and sleeping over. You don't think your friends are thinking too much about the details, but you just don't know. You've been gone a lot. But, at the end of the day, it still brings you to the fact that you're starting to always long for San and want him around. "I'll be there soon."

"How are you gonna get away? Aren't you sharing an airbnb with your friends?" You nod as if he can see you.

"Mhm. They all plan to go out and do different things throughout the trip, though."

"Let me know whenever you need me to send a car to get you. I'll drop everything." You giggle.

"Send a car for your secret lover? Hot." San snorts.

"Not even, baby. I'd show you off to the world if I could." You pause and let the statement sit a bit, the reality of your situation sinking in a little more than you'd like right now. But, you quickly brush it off; not wanting to ruin the mood or cast an attitude for no reason.

This wasn't San's fault, nor was it yours. 

"I know." You respond softly. "Anyway, I should probably head to Eunchae's soon before they start trying to break down my door again."

"Okay." San softly chuckles. "Text me along the way, sweetheart. I'll be waiting 'till you get here."

"I will." San bites his tongue, leaving a small pause in the conversation before he speaks again.

"Mmkay. Bye baby." You answer back before hanging up the call, briefly double-checking everything before you zip up your luggage, grab your personal bag and head out to Eunchae's.

"I was literally just about to go knock on your door." Jiung takes your luggage from you to free your hands.

"Was just making sure I had everything." Eunchae claps and flashes her phone.

"Yay! We're all here. I called the taxi to come and get us." Your group walks out of the building to stand on the curb, the taxi pulling up in the next 5 minutes. It's a van, and it'll fit your group perfectly. The rest of the people you know are either flying out tonight, or throughout the weekend. It'll be an empty week next week, especially for the neuroscience and bioengineering community; most classes have been cancelled due to the conference.

The airport is close to a 50-min drive from campus. As soon as you get there, your group checks in at the individual kiosks, breezing straight through security since it's not during the busy rush hour at the airport. You've got an hour until your flight departs, so once you've found the gate, you and the girlies walk around to buy coffee and snacks. You text San in between, giving him the play by play of what's going on.

San can't wait to see you. He knows you two will make time and figure it out, and he truly can't wait until he gets you all to himself. It's the only thing he can think of, even as he walks around the downtown area with Mingi and Chris before they hit the sports bar to catch the baseball game over some grub and drinks.

"When is everyone else coming?" San is pulled out of his thoughts when Christopher rings out the question while looking at a shirt in a clothing store they had stumbled into.

"Namjoon and Zara are coming tonight, I think Yeosang and Jongho are taking a red eye." Mingi says.

"Yeah, he is. Then they're gonna head to our breakfast get-together like nothing."

"Mhm." Chris puts the shirt back on the rack while continuing to chime in. "Ran into Yunho earlier, so they're definitely here already."

"Tomorrow's breakfast will be fun." Mingi says with a drip of sarcasm.

"Namjoon and his plans, for real." Chris takes a thick jean jacket off of the rack and heads over to the cashier with San and Mingi in tow. "You guys have any other plans while we're here?"

"Got a few meetings outside of the conference, but nothing too major this year." San responds.

"Same." Mingi adds. "Sad they didn't bring back that investigator after party." Chris snorts.

"Because people got too fucked up last time."

"Boo." Mingi playfully boo's.

you: getting on the plane! gonna put my phone on airplane mode. see you later, maybe? 🥰

San smiles at his phone when he sees the text, fingers swiftly typing away to text you back.

san: safe travels, angel. 

"Zara texting you?" Mingi tries to peek at his phone.

"No. Cut it out." San furrows his brows at Mingi before playfully pushing him and heading out of the store.

"Then why are you smiling like that, bro?" Chris laughs. "Who are you seeing?"

"No for real, cause I know you aren't distancing yourself from Zara for no reason." San smirks and shakes his head.

"Ready to eat? I'm hungry. The game is about to be on, too."

"Woooow." Chris jokes. "Nah, it'll come out one day."

"Maybe, maybe not." San continues to tease with a big smile.

Meanwhile— when it's time to depart, you sit at the window seat with Jiung and another classmate on the same flight next to you. It's a 3-hour flight, but you brought along your book to read in between taking small naps on Jiung's shoulder. He's busy playing on his switch, fingers moving at wharp speed as he battles through Breath of the Wild. You hear the game tunes while you're in and out of sleep, checking the monitor to see how much longer you've got on this flight. The last half feels like the longest, and it's got you itching in your seat until the captain finally announces they're preparing for landing.

With any flight, getting off always feels the most stressful. You've got people standing, impatiently waiting for their turn to grab their carry-on luggages before rushing down the aisle. You, Jiung and your other classmate are the first from your group to head off the plane, waiting for the rest near the side of the gate. When you've all reunited, Eunchae takes the lead towards the arrivals terminal, calling up another taxi that can take you and your friends to the AirBnB. It's a pretty spacious house right outside of the central downtown area where the conference venue and popular hotels, eateries and shops are located.

The weather feels perfect.

And as soon as you all shuttle over to the shared AirBnB house, it's time to get ready to eat, explore and head to the bars for the first night. Which, feels like crazy work after the airport and flight chaos, but the adrenaline and hype from everyone around you gets you going. 

"We're really just gonna go all out tonight?" You fix your outfit in the mirror, throwing on a leather jacket to provide some kinda warmth [and umph to your outfit].

"Yeah, fuck it. We're here!" Jiung finishes pouring shots for everyone. "Here." He carefully slides over a plastic shot glass filled to the brim.

"Jiung." He shrugs.

"Nah, drink up. When's the last time we drank and had fun together, busy bee?" He teases, giving you a look. You playfully roll your eyes and hold onto your serving, waiting for everyone to grab their share before yelling out a loud 'cheers!' and taking the nasty liquid down your throat. 

One shot turns to two. To three. Four for some.

It's probably a bad idea that you're strolling the streets tipsy; your arm loosely wrapped around Jiung's as you stroll down a few shops, stumbling into a museum with free admissions for the weekend. You and your friends actually enjoy the exhibits, taking a few pictures along the way for the memories. Eunchae whips out her Instax from time to time, shaking the polaroids she takes before showing it off to the group. You take a few polaroids to keep, slipping them into your wallet to show San when you see him.

After spending a good time roaming around and shopping, you and your friends head to a popular, casual thai restaurant that required a bit of a walk to get to. Luckily for everyone, there isn't much of a wait and you're seated within 15 minutes of arriving. You all decide on ordering a few plates to share from, saving room for more drinks and alcohol for the bar afterwards. As the group continues to talk while waiting for food, you decide this is the perfect opportunity to pull out your phone and see if you had any texts from San.

Which, of course you do. 

He just responded not too long ago after you had sent him a few pictures from the museum and roaming around. Reading his texts puts a small smile on your face, and you almost wish you could just be with him at this given moment.

san: you're so cute.

san: sorry my baby, i've been with chris and mingi. we've just been hanging out.

san: think i can see you later tonight?

you: i'll try, sannie. we're going to the bars in a bit.

san: ☹️ 

you: promise i'll try, okay?

san: okay, but don't sweat it, alright? have fun with your friends, beautiful. enjoy yourself!

"Bruh, hello?" You hear Jiung next to you just as you peep the last response from San, unknowingly wearing a small smile on your lips that has Jiung knitting his brows together. "Who are you texting?" He laughs.

"Nobody, sorry. Was just distracted. What were you saying?" Jiung pauses for a bit because you've been acting a little different and he can't exactly pinpoint what it is. He won't dwell on it now though, he's having a good time with you, your group of friends.

"I was just saying you used to like the cheap ass vodka. We were talking about how our tastes have changed over the years."

"Vodka was not that bad. But, I definitely would not drink it now."

"Iono. Sorry, I think you're alone in this." He shrugs and you playfully hit him on the arm.

"Says you with your nasty Captain Morgan liking ass."

"Oh, come on. That was way better." You pretend to gag. "Captain Morgan brought the best memories for a lot of people." You laugh.

"Shut up."

"Seriously though, why do you seem disconnected? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry. I just got an email about something but it's no biggie."

"Okay, please don't check your emails." Jiung swipes your phone and you feel like your heart drops to your ass when it's in his possession. But, he doesn't glance at it and simply slips it into your bag. "No more. Let's just enjoy ourselves while we're out here." 

"You're right." You give him a small smile, knowing you should at least be present with your friends instead of thinking about San. If it's meant to happen, you'll find time for him later.

Once the food comes, the chit-chat dies down and everyone is busy getting their grub in. The group starts talking about some of the plans they have for the rest of the conference, most people planning to meet with old friends who are around. You didn't necessarily make any extra plans thinking you'd be able to sneak away with San for most of it.

It's kinda dumb now that you think about it. 

How the hell were you gonna do that?

"Maybe we should just roam around a little more. I can find some things to do." Jiung says and you quietly nod. 

"We can just figure it out later." Eunchae says, grabbing her purse. "Alright, russian roulette? Whose card are we putting down?! We gotta get to the bars!" Alas, russian roulette occurs and the waitress ends up picking Felix's card. The rest of you cheer loudly before telling Felix you'll send him your halves once the night has finished to cheer him up. All of you grab your things, making sure to check the table one last time before heading out and walking towards the first bar down the street. Your mind slips to San when you see his hotel come in view up ahead, standing tall some few miles away, but bright. Fancy. Modern. You wonder if he's still out and about with the boys, or if they're heading back to the hotel at this point.

Whatever it was, you were not expecting him to be at the same place, at the same time.

The first bar you get to is spacious, with the front panels of the bar opening out onto the street; high tables and chairs underneath umbrellas filled with groups of people drinking and playing games like Jenga and Connect Four.

You and Jurin are holding hands as you follow the group into the bar, heading off to a free section near the right hand of the establishment. As you walk deeper inside, Jurin suddenly stops in her tracks and you hear her audibly gasp.

"Oh my god." Jurin squeals. "No fucking way!" She turns to you and Eunchae, squeezing your hand. At first, you don't even realize it until Jurin nods behind her. Your eyes widen when you find San, Mingi and Christopher eyeing your group, drinking away at their beers. There's a few other people around them that you're familiar with— also bioengineering professors at other universities. He must have heard Jurin because his eyes shoot straight towards you and he has to force himself not to freeze or smile to big seeing you in the flesh.

"The students have made it out." Mingi laughs.

"Oh hey! Familiar faces!" Chris says, raising his almost empty glass of beer in the air as you all settle into the section in front of their table. San looks at you and gives you a small smirk, biting onto his bottom lip as he fiddles with the napkin beneath his empty glass. Although the chances were somewhat high, San didn't think he'd end up at the same bar with his friends.. and your friends. Truthfully, there's so many bars in the area— he just didn't think it would happen like this.

Literally just falling onto his lap and vice versa.

He's not mad about it, though. He's happy to see you. He's just upset he can't do shit about it.

You give him and his friends tiny curt nods before sitting around on the couches in front of a long table. The same kind of games sit in the center, the boys instantly reaching for Jenga while the girls start putting in orders of a mix of shots and cocktails.

Your group gets loud pretty quick.

Enough for San and his friends to watch as entertainment.

Jenga gets pretty heated, as it usually does. You and your friends are probably the loudest in this corner but you don't really care— everyone's have a good time and not causing trouble despite intoxicated. Chris even starts throwing in some side commentary as he watches the game unfold between you, Felix, Eunchae and Jiung. The tower falls as Jiung tries to slip the wooden piece from the third to last level, almost successful until he abruptly pulls it out from its spot and causes the tower to tumble with a loud crash.

"You're usually better than that!" You tease him. 

"Dude, I can't always be good at everything all the time." You laugh. "Besides, where were you?!" He slightly gets in your face, and you're having to playfully push him back by the chest.

San is so..?

He was never really the type to get jealous. San likes to think he's laid back in his relationships and maybe that's where he goes wrong. But tonight, he sees the little flirty tones coming from Jiung. You're drunk and you probably don't realize it, or San is just being dumb because that is your bestfriend. He shakes off the thought because his feelings run deep for you and he doesn't wanna run you off. Clearly, you respect him and vice versa, and not to compare, but you don't have the same mentality and attitude as Iseul.

You're like a breath of fresh air, if that paints a better picture.

He can't help himself when he slightly gets jealous simply because he can't just throw himself on the couch to join your game and tease you. He can't just swing his arm around you and kiss you in front of everyone, he can't just hold your hand and do all that cute, lovey-dovey shit. Which in hindsight, sucks. But, he has you and that's enough to keep him going at this point.

Your group continues to play and cheer loudly, providing entertainment for the professors until they find the bar getting too loud, too crowded and too.. full of university students and postdocs attending the conference— it's definitely a good time to head out.

"Let's head out?" Chris closes out the tab with his card. San's eyes subtly scan you heading to the bathroom, giving him an opportunity to see you for a second because god, he can't fucking help it.

"Yeah. Let me just head to the bathroom." The boys nod, telling him they'll wait outside in the crisp night air. Chris and the rest quickly say their byes to your group as they pass and head outside, San already turning the corner to the hidden hallway at the back of the bar that leads to the bathrooms. San lingers around the bathroom doors nervously, wiping his grubby hands down his jeans. When the bathroom door swings open, you jump at the sudden figure waiting around, the smile on your face growing quickly when you realize who it is.

"Hey you." San smiles that 100-watt, dimpled smile you cherish and adore so much, a small giggle leaving your lips when he leans against the wall and taps your nose.

"In public?"

"You think I wasn't gonna use the bathroom excuse to come see you for a quick second? Insanity." You laugh.

"Hi Sannie."

"So cute." He lets out a breath. "We're heading out, just wanted to say bye before we do." His hand falls on your hip and gives it a squeeze. "Was hoping to steal a kiss."

"We might get in trouble." He chuckles.

"By who?" He presses you against him. "C'mere." He almost whines. You tippy-toe and kiss him on the lips, leaving San to look at you dazed through hooded lids. He chases quickly for another small peck, feeling satisfied enough with the two kisses in a hidden hallway; could keep him going for the remainder of the night 'till he sees you again. "Can you let me know if you wanna come over? I'll hop in a car and come get you."

"Mmkay."

"Y/N! Bae! Are you yacking?!" You push off of San when you hear Jurin's voice echo into the hallway, tucking hair behind your ear as San turns over his shoulder to greet her nonchalantly. "Oh shit?— I mean, hi Professor Choi."

"Hey." He gives her a toothless smile. "Anyway, nice running into you, Y/N." He turns to you with a wink before excusing himself. "Be safe tonight, ladies."

"Will do." Jurin scurries off to your side, giggling while San makes his way back outside to meet his boys. "Girl, what the fuck did I just interrupt?"

"Nothing? He was just saying hi."

"In a secret hallway? Outside of the bathrooms?" She snorts. "Please. You know, I'd support you if you were getting into trouble with him."

"Jurin." You give her a look, internal temp rising at hearing Jurin say things like that.

"Okay, babe." She links her arm with yours. "Glad you weren't yacking, though. Unless Professor Choi saved you there, too."

"Oh my god." When you get back to your friends, as expected, Jurin continues to tease you about the whole San encounter. It doesn't make it any easier when Eunchae joins in, drunkly trying to convince everyone that San actually has the hots for you.

It goes over everyone's heads when the bar gives your friends another round of shots on the house. Thankfully.

When a good hour and a half passes, the group decides it's time to head to another bar. 

And another.

And another.

To drink more, to play games, to dance, to be loud. Though, all you really want now is to be with San.

As the last bar gets a little too crowded and chaotic for your liking, you start to wind down on the drinks— feeling a bit too full, too tipsy, than you planned to be tonight. You check the time, and it's getting close to 11pm, people still high on energy. The night doesn't seem to be dying down soon, but all you can think of is getting to San and cuddling up to him all night. The need to be with him is incredibly strong right now, and you don't think you'll let the night pass without being alone with him.

What can you tell your friends this time?

"I'm gonna head out." You let Jiung know, dipping close to his ear.

"What?" He looks at you, confused.

"I'm just gonna go—" He doesn't even let you finish when he's cutting you off, ready to leave with you.

"Then, let me come with—"

"No. I promise I'm good, Jiung. You stay and have fun, please."

"Who are you heading out with?" You pause for a second, trying to come up with anything that'll get you off the hook without being too suspicious.

"I'm meeting up with Sunwoo, Belle and people from the lab at another bar."

"Do you want me to at least head over with you if its close?"

"I'm calling Uber. Promise I'll be okay." He's hesitant, but he doesn't push.

"Text me when you get there, then." He gives you a look and you nod. At this point, the Uber is pulling up to the bar you're at— the driver giving you a call to let you know he's made it out front. You quickly tell Eunchae, Felix, Jurin and your other friends that you're heading out to see your labmates and luckily, no one bats an eye.

Besides Jiung, maybe. Only out of worry, you think. He's coming from a good place. Everyone else is too busy enjoying themselves, kick starting the trip on a good note. 

He just thinks it's weird.

When you hop in the Uber, you confirm your endpoint destination before leaning your head against the window. The driver's got the AC on blast, which is definitely your saving grace right now. You don't realize just how drunk you've gotten until you're resting in the back seat of this car, hoping the ride doesn't contain too many twists and turns on the side streets until you get to San's 5-star hotel.

It doesn't. Thankfully.

It's a good 15-min ride away from the bar, just a few turns and tiny hard brakes due to unexpected street traffic. But, the ride feels quick. You shoot San a text and he re-tells you he's on the 14th floor, room 1412. He asks if you need him to meet you downstairs and you say no, clearly remembering that San said the other professors typically stay at this hotel, too.

In which, you miss Yunho passing you on the opposite side of the lobby. He feels like he saw you, but wasn't confident enough to say exactly. It wasn't uncommon for students to book rooms at this hotel— it just wasn't a top choice due to price despite the close proximity to the conference venue. Yunho can't help but do a double take just as you head to the elevator, realizing it was too late to get a good look at you.

Definitely feels familiar.

You slip into an empty elevator, pressing the button to the 14th floor multiple times until the elevator doors shut. You shoot your friends a text to let them know you've arrived and all is well, giving them a heads up that you might be sticking with Belle for the night and to not wait up. No one responds, so you figured your friends were still busy enjoying themselves and they'd see the text at some point. You rub your arms at the sudden drop of temperature in the elevator, looking at your mesh shirt and your black leather mini skirt through the mirrors on the walls. Truthfully, after a couple of hours out and being enclosed in a stuffy bar, you're surprised you still look put-together. You fix at your baby hairs and adjust your skirt a bit, still feeling wobbly and like the world is slightly spinning. The elevator dings and the doors slide open, pulling you out of your thoughts as you step out and look around for the hallway that leads to San's room. It's at this moment you realize you don't have anything with you— no clothes or things to shower with— and you're praying San [or the hotel] has some extras he could spare for you. 

You know you're definitely staying the night.

1412 finally comes into view and you feel your heart skip a beat, a big smile growing on your lips as you knock on the door a few times. You hear shuffling in the background before San swings the door open, revealing himself in sweats and a white tank. 

You feel your knees buckle, core throbbing and aching for him badly.

"San!" You squeal, jumping onto him. He laughs, holding you tightly. "Finally!"

"Baby." He tuts. "You should've let me know when you were ready so I could come back out and get you."

"I made it, though! I told Jiung I was seeing Sunwoo and Belle somewhere."

"Hm." San hums. "Do you even know where Sunwoo and Belle are?"

"Nope." He laughs. "Mm'drunk." You pout as you drop down and look up at him.

"I see, pretty girl. Did you have fun?"

"I did. But, I wanted to come over already. I wanted to cuddle."

"You can have all the cuddles you want." San smiles, brushing your hair back before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "You look amazing, baby. Any guys slip you their number after we left?"

"Maybe?" You tease and he pouts. "I'm kidding. I'd toss it anyway."

"Yeah?" He laughs.

"Sannie." You whine, wrapping your arms around him drunkly. "You know what else sounds good right now?" He chuckles, holding you close while rubbing at your sides.

"What's that?"

"A chocolate chip cookie with ice cream."

"I can call room service again." He smiles, brushing your hair back. "Why don't you go get washed up and comfy, angel?"

"Mmkay." San presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing you one of his shirts to change into and setting it on the edge of the bed. "Come on." He leads you to the bathroom, helping you out of your boots and your clothes before checking the water temp and getting you into the shower. The hot water feels good against your skin, almost helping you sober up a bit more as you let your body relax. San calls for room service to order your dessert, along with requesting for your clothes to be dry-cleaned and returned in the morning. San hears you drop one of the bottles in the shower, causing him to peek into the bathroom to hear you giggling. 

"You okay in there, love?"

"Yeah, sorry. Just trying to do the body wash but it slipped." San smiles to himself.

"Careful." He rests back against the headboard after hanging up your clothes on a hanger and slipping it through the plastic cover. You take another 10 minutes before you step out of the steamy shower in nothing but a towel. San turns to watch you from the bed, door cracked just enough to see you lathering up with the hotel's free lotion sitting on the bathroom counter. He has to pull himself together when the knock from room service comes, San hurriedly getting the door to grab the dessert and hand off your clothes. You hear San tell whoever is at the door to charge everything to his room before the door shuts close and he's back on the bed.

"Who was that?"

"Room service."

"Did you actually order the cookie?!" He nods.

"Yeah, and sent your clothes off for dry cleaning."

"San." You pout. "You didn't have to."

"Don't worry about it." He looks at you from the bed. "C'mere. Your ice cream is gonna melt." He has a hand behind his head as he lazily rests on the bed and against the headboard. He pats his free side, TV softly playing in the background.

"I gotta change." You walk out and sit on the edge of the bed near him, still wrapped in your towel.

"I mean, you don't really need to. I'll probably get you out of that shirt in a bit anyway." He smirks.

"Mm." You hum. "Don't say things like that, Choi San." You unwrap the bowl with a mini cookie pie sitting inside, vanilla ice cream on top starting to melt into it. 

"Still drunk?" San rubs your arm and presses a light kiss to your shoulder.

"Not too bad. Shower definitely helped. This will absolutely help." He chuckles. "Thank you." You turn to him just as you take a spoonful. 

"Course." He lets out a breath as he continues to watch you eat. "I missed you." He lays small, feathery kisses on your arm.

"I did too, Sannie. How was hanging out with the boys?" He shrugs.

"It was good. I'm just tired. But I'm glad you're here." You giggle as you look at him, his arm now wrapped behind you. 

"Want some? It's good!" You feed San another spoonful, a wad of vanilla ice cream sticking to the corner of his lips. Kinda brings you back to the first time you kissed him, except, circumstances are definitely different now.

Aka you missed San, and you've been yearning for him.

"It is good!" You smirk, placing the spoon down on the edge of the plate before coming down to lick the ice cream off from the corner of his lips. You maintain eye contact with him while you gently grip his jaw, placing a kiss to the same corner after licking off the ice cream clean. 

"I got you." You say softly, causing San to smirk wider.

"So fucking sexy, swear to God." It almost comes off as a low growl. "Uh-uh. You're not going anywhere after that." You squeal when San pulls you back down with some force, instantly pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

"San—" You giggle in between kisses, letting out another loud squeal when he sits you on his lap, giving you full access to straddle him. "My towel!"

"Fuck the towel." You laugh, letting San tear off the towel from your body, tossing it aside. The kiss turns sloppy, wet; the both of you licking into each other's mouths while you slowly rut against him. He's quick to rip off his tank, chasing after your lips because he doesn't wanna waste a second away from you. The need, want, is strong; as if the universe has kept you and San away from each other for light years.

Every touch, every kiss, burned like ember— fueled by desire, cravings. Spreading quick like a wildfire: consuming, impossible to contain.

"Missed you so much, baby." San whispers against your skin as you settle back on his lap after shredding off his pants and boxer briefs, his hands caressing your back. You line him up at your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his hard cock. He nods eagerly, hazing eyes looking up at you as he relaxes again— hand behind his head while you lazily rock your hips back and forth to adjust the feeling. "Gonna be my good girl and ride me? Gonna use me like you need to?"

"San." You breathily moan, head cocking back in pure pleasure when you find the perfect rhythm to work with. Your hands rest on his abs, hips swirling and slowly working in circular motions on his rock hard cock. 

"Oh fuck— just like that sweetheart." He lets out a groan, looking up at you through hooded lids while he continues to let you do all the work. "Fuck, yes—" He moans loudly, matching your tone as you pick up your pace. He hisses in between, hearing your slickness against him while you go between bouncing on his cock to rolling your hips— clit rubbing against him so deliciously it's fulfilling that desire, craving, for San within you. San is completely taken by how mesmerizing, yet so sinful you look riding him the way that you are; pretty perked tits, beautifully shaped curves, plump lips.

"Sannie, feels so good— mmshit." You mewl, fucking him faster as your hands crawl up to his neck— gripping around the base at just the right pressure. 

"Baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep moving on my shit like that— fuuuuck." He lets out a loud, choked moan as you continue; fast, rough. Both of your moans blending into each other's, names being called like a mantra. The scene is nothing short of pornographic, loud, wet noises of skin against skin bouncing off of the walls while you continue to ride your man into the next lifetime. "Fucking me so good. So perfect. All mine." He praises you.

So pretty.

My girl.

All mine.

No one else's.

"Close. Please cum with me." You whimper and beg, hips now getting sloppier, messier.

"Yeah, that's it. Let me feel you." Your hips continue to work him, pleasure building at your core until you finally tip over the edge; stilling in your position while you moan filthily, trembling as your orgasm washes over you completely. "Yes baby, yes— give it to me." Your hands are now on San's chest to keep you steady, San roughly fucking up into you. Hearing you whine, along with the way your walls tightly clenching around his dick is enough for him to unravel; his turn to whine and whimper while digging his hands into the flesh of your hips. He groans as he releases every drop inside of you, chest heaving as he tries to regulate himself and calm down from the orgasm hitting him too hard.

"Oh my god." You pant, slowly sliding off of him when you finally muster the rest of your energy to do so. You plop next to him, San also still trying to regain some energy post-high.

"Sounds about right." He chuckles. "That was amazing, angel." San presses a kiss to your head before grabbing some napkins to help clean the both of you up.

"Was a good time using you." You tease, scooting next to him. "Before I forget, I have something." You lean over the side of the bed to grab the polaroid from your purse, turning onto your tummy to show it to San.

"You're so pretty, sweetheart." He smiles, grabbing it from your hands and slipping it into his phone case turned wallet. He slides it into one of the sleeves before setting his phone back down on the nightstand and pecking you on the lips. "Thank you."

"You're really gonna keep it there?" He nods.

"I always have my phone with me so, yeah."

"What if it slips out and falls?"

"I would never let that happen to your picture." He chuckles, watching as you fall back onto the mattress and allowing San to pull you into his arms. "You guys look like you really enjoyed yourselves on the first night."

"Mm. Yeah. We had fun. I'm just happy to be here now." 

"Thank whoever took that cute ass photo of you for me." You laugh and nod.

"What're you doing tomorrow? Any plans before or after the first day of the conference?"

"Hm. I have breakfast with Namjoon and everyone in the morning. Not sure about nighttime, but I'd carve out time for you." You smile.

"Breakfast with the group sounds nice. And god, I hope I can come over again, but I think Jiung and Eunchae wanna explore. We'll see." He nods, pressing a kiss to your head. "Wish I could just stay here, San."

"You could." You look at him and he lets out a small laugh, brushing your hair back. "I know, baby. One day, we won't have to keep planning around like this."

"I know."

"Would you travel with me?" San continues to look down at you as you rest on his bare chest.

"If I had the money to. And if it wasn't too suspicious for class and such." He nods. "You're traveling often these next weeks."

"Mhm. But, I wish you could be there with me. Wish I didn't have to leave you back there with my friends and Jeong Yunho." You chuckle.

"I wish I could too, Sannie."

"Come to the coast side with me for the Baskin conference, at least. Please?" San traces faint shapes on your side. "Students head off to conferences all the time. It won't be that suspicious for you to travel for this, too."

"You sure, babe? Cause what student can even afford to head to multiple conferences in a short amount of time?"

"I've seen a good amount. It's not that uncommon." He shrugs, and you let out a small sigh. "No pressure. But, I really want to be there with you. I'll take care of your ticket and everything. I'm sure your professors will understand, too." He gently kisses your forehead. "And.. maybe, I can take you around the world with me in the future."

"Is that what you want?"

"More than anything."

"I want that, too."

"Then, let's make it happen." You giggle against him, shutting your eyes as the exhaustion slowly takes over your body. San's warmth engulfs you as he continues to hold you close, keeping the TV on until he feels himself getting sleepy. Its nights like these that make him feel whole, that make him feel like he's on top of the world again. And god, does he love this feeling— the feeling that you bring to him, the euphoria he gets whenever he's around you.

Hugging you.

Kissing you.

Making love to you.

There's nothing more that he wants than to keep you happy, and he'll keep himself here for as long as he can. 

"Night, baby." He whispers against your forehead, leaving sweet, gentle kisses to your face until he settles under the sheets properly and keeps you close.

The next days are filled with jam-packed information from the conference, with you, Jiung and a few colleagues checking out the scheduled talks and chopping it up with vendors to see what the latest versions of supplies and equipment are. Today was San's talk, along with other keynote speeches and poster session day, so you were up and at 'em early to support your man and Sunwoo. You tried your best to not relive the weekend to avoid any mishaps or slip ups, avoiding any conversation or confrontation about it this entire time.

And you were doing good, especially since the days were hectic.

Until said tiny slip up passes by so unexpectedly. 

You were so, so close.

—FLASHBACK

"Oh, aye! She's here! Nice to see you!" Your labmates quickly say hello as they pass you in the opposite direction. "It would've been nice to see you at the bar the other night, Y/N!"

"Wait what, I thought you went?" Jiung furrows his brows at you, and you feel your palms get all sweaty.

"That group went somewhere else."

"Oh? But, you, Sunwoo and Belle stayed behind?"

"Mhm."

"Y/N, if you're hooking up with someone in the lab, you can just say so." He snorts and you playfully punch him on the bicep.

"Ew, no! I'm not, Jiung." You pout. "We just liked the bar we were at."

"Hm." Jiung hums. "Okay then." He shrugs, still not really believing you left to meet up with Sunwoo and them. But, he digresses. He'll let you open up to him when you're ready. Jiung just knows, though.

Jiung knows you haven't really been seeing your mom.

Jiung knows you didn't really see Sunwoo and Belle.

And he could probably thank the fact that he knows you so well— he knows that a lie is hard for you to keep up with. It'll unravel, eventually. It is. Slowly.

What it actually is, though, he's curious?

What is it that you can't even tell him, your bestfriend?

—END

"Where's Professor Choi's talk?"

"In the Verve conference room. I think it's on the opposite side." You pull out the venue map.

"We should go so we can get good seats. Same thing for Professor Kim's talk right after." You nod, clinging onto Jiung's arm to navigate the sea of people making their way around the venue to get to particular talks and poster sessions currently happening for different branches of neuroscience subjects. When you get to the Verve conference room, there's still some spots open, but not too many. You, Jiung and your colleagues slip into the fourth row towards the end, still getting a good view of the stage from the seats. There's still about another 10 minutes before San's scheduled to speak, but the room filled up quickly after you and your friends arrived. You spot Zara slipping into a front row seat with Mingi. Your eyes linger on her for a little longer than you'd like, seeing how she sits so prim and proper— a huge smile on her face as she patiently waits for San to get on stage.

You can't say you don't feel a little scared and insecure seeing her. You do. She's right up his alley, and one day, he could see that.

He could see the reality of this.

Before you can fall into the rabbit hole, the lights dim and the host steps on stage to introduce San. Your man steps onto the stage in black dress pants, a white button up and matching black vest and tie. He's got his rimless frames on, hair falling neatly to the sides of his face, his forehead. He kicks off his talk, his voice enough to captivate the audience from the get-go. You are truly enamored and in complete awe every time San does a talk. The stage isn't huge, but enough for him to pace around. He always has presentation slides, but his slides contain more photos and figures than words. He does a brief glance at the current slide, pacing around the stage slowly as he explains its contents in a smooth, calm manner. He has a hand in his pant pocket, while the other is used for hand gestures at the same time as holding the slide clicker. Other times, both hands are out for gestures. You know San never uses the same presentation for every talk, so it's crazy to see him discuss each point so perfectly; enough to paint its picture, but not overwhelming with details. He always scans the audience, his eyes falling on you a few times amidst the talk. He has brief pauses, speaks without slipping in filler words. When he smiles and slips in small jokes, he has the ability to make everyone feel the same energy tenfold— entire audience smiling, nodding or chuckling in response. He answers every question during the Q&A session, being able to express his thoughts and concerns freely without holding back.

He is honest, and he is the definition of passionate when it comes to his craft. 

When his time is up, he gives the audience a bow before seeing himself off the stage and down into the audience to talk to a few people. Most are heading out to catch other talks, while others are lingering to get even a second in with San. The first person that lingers around and sticks by San's side is Zara, along with Christopher. They all chat together before San is acknowledging colleagues around them— some very well-known professors from global universities, some Nobel laureates. It's crazy to see San in this environment outside of school, the lab, because it's still crazy to know he's considered young in his field but incredibly talented and sought out. 

"I'm gonna say hi to Professor Choi." Jiung nods.

"Okay. We should get to Professor Kim's talk soon, though."

"We will." You nod, leaving him behind with your colleagues who are now talking to other professors and familiar faces nearby. You waltz over to San, slowly slipping your way through while he's talking to Zara a bit more. His eyes land on you and they instantly light up, causing Zara to break and put a pause in their conversation when you approach them.

"Hi Professor Choi, Professor Cho. Really great talk you did." You shyly say to him, keeping it professional and lowkey.

"Thank you." He smiles at you. "This is Y/N, she's the rotation student in my lab." San looks over at Zara. She smiles at you and takes your hand in a gentle shake. She's sweet, you think. And she definitely still has the hots for your man.

"Yes, hi Y/N! I've heard lots about the work you've already done in Professor Choi's lab. He seems to be a big fan." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks before you chuckle and brush off the comment. 

"Oh, really? I'd hope so." You briefly look at San, who is just standing there— pursing his lips together in a fine line to prevent himself from smirking too big. But, his eyes tell all, and the brief moment Zara looks between you two; it's a little clearer to her who you might just be to him. "It's really nice to meet you Professor Cho. Your talk was great."

"Thank you. Definitely was not as major as Professor Choi's though, talk about the turnout." She looks around, then looks up at him. There's awe, admiration, probably even a sprinkle of lust if you look closely. 

Could be just you, but whatever. You know that look when you see it. Plus it's San— who the fuck wouldn't?

"Nah, not even. Your talk was amazing and had just the right amount of info. Not too heavy, flowed easily." He reassures her and you awkwardly stand there before tucking a strand of hair back and excusing yourself.

"I agree with him." You chime in. "Anyway, sorry have to cut this short, but I have to get going to Professor Kim's talk. Just wanted to pop in and praise you both for the amazing talks." You look at Zara again as she continues to stick to San's side. "It was lovely to formally meet you, Professor Cho." You give San one last, toothless smile before re-joining Jiung near the exit doors of the conference room, heading straight to the opposite end to hear Namjoon's lecture starting in the next 10 mins. As Zara returns her attention to San, she finds his eyes still lingering on you even as you leave.

And she could be reading it all wrong, but she, too, knows that look when she sees it.

"Uh, so." San says, finally meeting her eyes. "I'm gonna head over to Namjoon's in a few too, if you'd like to join me." She shakes her head.

"I've gotta meet up with an old colleague in a bit. We'll try and catch it if we can, but we've got lots of catching up to do." San nods.

"Well, enjoy yourself, Zara." He smiles. "I'll catch you around." He steps away, shaking hands and briefly greeting a few others on his way out, leaving Zara behind to navigate through the crowd on her own. She eventually finds her colleague going down the row of posters set up along the side of the main venue room, waving to her to get her attention. She jogs over and gives her a tight hug, one that she feels like she really needed at this time.

"Hey you!" Zara says. "Sorry, San's talk just wrapped up."

"Oh, you don't say?" Her colleague and friend, Yu, says teasingly. "How was San's talk? How's it been working with him? Have you two gotten closer or whatever?" She smirks at her and Zara shakes her head with a small, choked up chuckle.

"It was great! Amazing as usual." She looks at the ground. "We're just colleagues, and I'm afraid it'll stay that way. Probably best, anyway."

"What?! I thought there was a little spark?! It sounded like it was gonna go somewhere and I was so excited to hear the next episode!" Zara laughs. 

"It's fine, I promise. He's got his eyes on someone else and I think he's happy." Not gonna lie, as she explains this, all she can think about is: how heartbreaking.

Of course, she can't say for certain. She's going off of gut feelings and subtle [but obvious] actions. But even if it were true, she can't help but question: why? All of it would be so, so wrong on the surface level. You'd be dating your professor, and the both of you could ruin a lot of things for each other.

Perhaps, San sees it all as worth it. 

Zara wonders what you do that makes him feel that way. In hindsight, they could have been good for each other. It felt like it. She thought they'd hit it off from their small meetings and the way she slowly learned more things about him. They were professors well on their way to bigger things. Even though she had nothing but assumptions, she still couldn't shake the feeling she had in her gut.

Where did she lack that you made up for?

—read 8.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny

[wintersoldiersoul]

Hi.

Saw you are taking requests.

I got shingles the weekend close to my birthday, i confuse it with allergy because i am allergic to basically anything and then on my 24th birthday i got that it was actually shingles, doctor told me that my immune system went down and that is why i got it. Before that i was under so much stress because of work that i developed burn out and had to quit my job (literally spent months, weeks of my life visiting the emergency ward because i kept getting sick due to stress and burn out) probably that Triggered the shingles.

Could you write something with Bucky in which the reader suffers similar sh**? I just need comfort from my fave character 😭

If you dont feel comfortable is fine, i understand 😁

KUDOS!

I'm so sorry you went through that! I hope you are much better now. I tried to make this as medically accurate as possible (I texted my friend in med school LOL) but I am definitely not a doctor so if some stuff isn't accurate, just pretend it is.

You threw your hair up into a ponytail to get it out of your face. Hours slumped over at your desk weren't doing any favors. You grabbed the energy drink and chugged it to prevent your eyes from closing. You were almost done with this assignment. Just a little bit longer, you told yourself. 

Working full time and being a grad student was taking a toll on you. You spent every day from 9-5 in your office and every night from 6-10 in classes. You crammed homework in anywhere you could, which often meant staying up most of the night. It was approaching 4am, now. 

The office door creaked open and Bucky strolled in, sleep still filling his eyes. “Baby,” he sighed. “Come to bed.” He had woken up and the bed was cold without you beside him. He walked over to you, kissing your forehead.

“Can’t,” you mumbled without looking up from your computer.

“You gotta get some sleep, darlin’.”

You sneezed, still typing away. “I’m fi-” your words were interrupted by another sneeze.

Bucky stood, looking at you with a stern expression. “Well look at that. You’re getting sick.” 

You waved your hand. “No, I’m not. It’s just allergies,” you said, sniffling. “You know this time of year is bad.” The past few months, you had been sick on and off multiple times. A cold, a small fever, you were sick more than you weren’t. 

“Honey, please just get some sleep. You haven’t slept in days.” He was practically begging. He knew how much stress you were under and getting no sleep wasn’t going to help. He was extremely worried about you.

“Just give me 10 more minutes, okay?” You compromised.

“Fine. But I’m sitting right here and setting a timer. The second it goes off, I’m carrying you to bed.”

He did exactly that, throwing you over his shoulder when you didn’t get up immediately at the ring of his phone. Despite the intense amounts of caffeine you had consumed, you fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

Bucky woke up before you the next morning, smiling at your sleeping form. Your hair was sprawled over your face and he gently pushed it away to kiss your cheek. But as soon as he moved the strands, he noticed that your cheeks were flushed. He put the back of his flesh hand on your skin. Heat radiated off of your face before he even touched you. You were definitely sick.

He got up, being careful not to wake you. He left the bedroom returning a few minutes later with water, Advil, and a thermometer. You groaned as your alarm rang, sending shooting pains into your skull. You groaned, opening your eyes. You felt like absolute shit. Your whole body ached, your throat was on fire, and even your skin hurt.

“You’re sick.” Bucky stated, as if he was informing you.

“Yeah, I can tell,” you retorted, wincing at the pain in every cell of your body. He smiled softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. 

“I got you some water and Advil. Can I take your temperature, doll?”

You nodded and he put the thermometer under your tongue. He looked it, eyes widening. “Shit baby, that’s not good. Your temp is 102.8. How do you feel?”

“Horrible,” you pouted.

He sighed. “I’m not surprised. That’s a really high fever, baby. I think we should go to the doctor.”

You groaned, not wanting to move. You felt so horrible that the thought of having to get up and out of bed was a nightmare. You felt like you couldn’t stay awake, eyes closing no matter how hard you tried to keep them open. “Can’t move,” you whispered, coughing slightly. “My whole body hurts so much. Just wanna sleep.”

Bucky didn’t know what to do. In his mind, sickness meant calling a doctor. He had spent so many years worrying about Steve back in the 40s, sitting with him while he got looked at. He still wasn’t used to how things were today. The google search he did on his phone told him that if your fever went above 103, to take you to the hospital. In his opinion, you were close enough that he wanted to rush you there right now, but he could see how exhausted you were.

“Alright, rest for now. But if it gets worse we’re going to the hospital.” You didn’t even hear him as you had already fallen back to sleep.

You woke up in a daze, cold sweat clinging to your body. You were shivering aggressively, shaking the entire bed. “Babe?” Bucky said, noticing you were awake. “You cold?”

You nodded, teeth chattering. He quickly grabbed you another blanket, wrapping you up like a burrito. He wrapped his arms around you, hoping that his body heat would help, too. One of the major perks of dating a super soldier was that the chances of getting him sick were very slim. He held you as close as possible, trying to keep you warm. “Oh, honey,” he whispered, voice dripping with sympathy.

 “Can you take your temperature again for me?” He asked after your shivering had subsided a little bit. You put the thermometer back in your mouth, waiting for the beep. Bucky took it from you, heart stopping as he looked. “I know you don’t wanna move, but we gotta go to the ER. You’re at 103.6. That’s really really bad.”

You groaned. You felt so horrible, his words barely even registered in your mind. He picked you up and carried you to the car, whispering words of encouragement along the way. You closed your eyes again, finding it physically impossible to stay awake. Bucky held your hand the entire car ride before picking you up and carrying you into the ER. He let you sleep as you waited, positioning your head on his shoulder. He constantly watched you to make sure you were still breathing. He didn’t wanna wake you until he absolutely had to.

When you were finally called in, he shook you gently. “Can you walk?” He asked. You weakly nodded and he helped you to your feet letting you lean on his body as you went to the exam room.

The doctor hooked you up to an IV immediately to hydrate your sick body as they examined you.

“How have you been sleeping?” She asked you.

“Um, not great,” you answered, voice sounding raspy. “I’ve been under a lot of stress.”

“She hasn’t slept in a week,” Bucky interjected. “She’s been getting sick a lot these past few months since she started grad school.”

The doctor nodded. “Okay that’s very good to know.” She proceeded to ask you a few more questions and then said, “Did you have chicken-pox as a kid?”

You nodded. “Yeah. When I was 5.”

She carefully rolled up your shirt, revealing a rash on your side. “It looks like you have shingles. The stress you’ve been under seems to have weakened your immune system which is why you’ve been getting sick so much. It makes sense that with all of that the virus would come back now.”

Bucky held your hand. He was relieved that you had a diagnosis but of course he was terrified. Back in his time, that would have been a death sentence. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Buck,” you answered. 

“Yes,” the doctor agreed. “We’re gonna keep her here for at least tonight because your fever is so high. But you will be okay.”

Bucky exhaled. “Oh, thank god.”

“Can I go to sleep now?” You asked the doctor. You were so exhausted.

“Yes. I’ll let you rest,” she smiled before leaving the room.

“I’m so sorry you feel so shitty,” Bucky said, holding your hand. “Will this make you take it easy?”

“I don’t know what I can do to change anything,” you said with tear filled eyes. “Literally the only time I have to get things done is in the middle of the night.”

He looked into your eyes. He wanted to help you so badly that his heart ached. He wanted you to be happy and healthy. “What if you quit your job?” He suggested. “You only took this as a temporary thing anyway. I know you don’t wanna stay there when you’re done with school.”

“I can’t not have a job, Bucky,” you argued.

“Baby,” he looked in your eyes. “Do you have any clue how much the Avengers pay me?” He smirked. “Trust me, you don’t need a job.” You opened your mouth to argue, ready to tell him that you didn’t need his money. “I know you’re your own person and you can make your own money. And one day, with that brain, you will make so much all on your own. But baby, you’re drowning. You’ve been sick more days than not the past few months. Please, let me take care of you. Just for a bit. I’d never tell you what to do and if you really wanna stay, you can. But you’re killing yourself, darling. And I can’t just sit back and watch as it happens. Just think about it. Please.”

You lazily smiled. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But not right now. Right now, I need to sleep.”

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

[cleolinda]

A tale retold

I first told this story some twenty years ago, and it happened even earlier than that, so here's the Modern Retelling with Historical Context:

For many years, I had—well, you've heard of naturally curly hair? I had unnaturally curly hair. I had a stylist so brilliant that she was able to give me occasional perms that no one could tell were chemical. NO, FOR REAL, I constantly got compliments on my long, rippling hair. In reality, my hair is deplorably fine and flat, although I'm told I have a ton of it; putting in some wave made me feel better, you know? I just wanted to co-wash, air-dry, and go live my tousled life. But after my spinal surgery, I just couldn't spend 2-3 hours in a stylist's chair anymore. And so, after 20 years of my best Galadriel impression, I've had to make peace with my natural texture, the only thing about me (I realize now) that is actually straight.

But this story takes place back in 1996; I was a junior in high school, and I had the freshest of perms. Just absolutely exuberant. Downright Pre-Raphaelite. It had only been done the weekend before, and it usually took about two weeks for the curls to settle down and look less poodly natural, but I wasn't going to miss Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet. When I was in grad school years later, my Shakespeare professor went to the mat for this movie, declaring it the best adaptation of any of his plays. And she wasn't a Leo fangirl, either. I tend to agree. And I got to see it on a big screen, opening night, with my best friend and my fresh luscious elbow-length '90s 'do. Banger soundtrack, the big bold visuals that tip over into Maybe Too Much in Moulin Rouge—I'm enthralled, I'm absorbed. Claire Danes is weeping over Dead Romeo, and we all know what’s about to happen in this, a 400-year-old play, but you still hope against hope that somehow it won’t this time. And then I feel something that's not emotion.

Something behind me. In my hair.

It's clammy. This tiny moist hand... creeping... up my neck.

Bear in mind, these are classic movie theater seats, not the big recliners you get now. My head is vulnerable to rear attack. And these tiny fingers, like a gummy little doll's hand, are crawling up my neck, under, through my hair. I am now sitting bolt upright, frozen. What the fuck is going on. It’s still creeping like a little spider up my scalp to the back of my head—put your hand up to yours, get your fingertips to the roots of your hair and really get a sense of what this feels like—

These fingers close, slowly, around the greediest handful of hair they can get hold of, and YANK.

I whip around while Juliet is sobbing—darkness.

To this day, I have no idea who (or what?) that tiny hand belonged to. I mean, you gotta think it was a small child enticed by the siren song of my curls, right? Some parents just didn’t spring for a babysitter on a big opening night, and there’s a Millennial out there with some real interesting core memories, I guess? I couldn't make out anything in the darkness behind me, and we were at kind of a key cinematic moment, so I didn't have time for more than a stern warning glare To Whom It Might Concern. And then I held onto my hair for the remainder of the movie. I chopped it all off within a few months, and went to college with short, straight hair, unable to forget the Cursèd Touch of the Hand. lol jk I just wanted a change and regretted it instantly.

So, happy 20th anniversary to the story I told on the Fametracker forums all those years ago. I can still remember exactly what that hand felt like: tiny. And moist.

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 2

fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ SMUT, angst, toxic relationship dynamic

a/n | gonna keep writing for this pathetic, sexy, messed-up man, that is all

Steve Harrington is puzzling. That’s the only conclusion she’s really reached. He’s taken her on more than a few dates, now seeing each other for a little over two months, and the stark contrast between the simply sweet gestures - always showing up with flowers, always opening doors for her, insisting on paying for her meal - and the downright nasty, bordering on violent sex sends her head reeling. She’s having a hard time discerning where he ends and where these staggeringly high walls he’s built begin. She knows he’s the last thing she needs right now. Her last year of college, grad school tentatively on the horizon. But Christ, she just can’t seem to get him out of her system.

She’s meeting him at the station tonight since his twenty-four hour shift ends at six. They’re going out for dinner. She’s learned that he doesn’t like movie theaters, concerts, or crowds in general, only tolerating bars when he’s good and drunk. She’s learned that she doesn’t like him very much when he’s drunk. So, most of their dates have been in quiet, hole in the wall restaurants, usually leading back to his uncharacteristically nice apartment. She didn’t think firefighters were exactly swimming in cash, but he seems to be quite comfortable. He had explained to her how he’s only on shift at the station three or four days out of the week, the rest of the time working at a mechanic’s shop. She knows he served, growing quickly accustomed to his dog tags dangling in front of her face, but he’s never told her anything about it. It’s difficult to get Steve to say much about himself. 

When she reaches the station, she finds the garage open, Steve just stepping down from one of the trucks, all geared up, his jacket undone to show the damp, clinging t-shirt beneath. The first thing she notices is the soot smearing across his face. She hovers just at the edge of the garage, anxiously wringing the strap of her purse, the other men too focused on getting out of their ashy uniforms to notice. Steve glances her direction before doubling back to fully take her in. He always looks her up and down when he first sees her, like he’s practically devouring her whole. It makes her squirm.

He lets out a sigh, shuffling over to her in his heavy boots. He reaches for her, but his hands flex, thinking better of it as he’s still so filthy from wherever he just was. 

“Hey, doll. I’m real sorry. We got called out this afternoon. Massive blowout in an apartment building. Can you give me like ten minutes? Just gotta get cleaned up for you and I’m all yours.” She swallows around a thickness in her throat.

“I-it’s fine. Steve, are you sure you’re ok to go out?” She reaches her hand up to tuck some of his damp hair back behind his smudged face, but he somewhat unkindly swats her hand away, she flinches.

“I’m fine. Just need to clean off. Why don’t you come wait inside, huh?” She nods, feeling both frustrated and floaty at how easily he takes control, renders her meek.

He guides her into the station. It looks like how she’d expect a house full of middle-aged men to look, comfy, lived-in, if not a bit sparse. She sits down in an armchair in what she supposes could be called the living room, watching Steve’s figure retreat up the stairs. 

She’s starting to regret the dress she wore as the other men start to filter through the station, letting their eyes linger on her bare legs a little longer than she’d like. 

“You Harrington’s girl?” An older man with a thick mustache walks up to her, sizing her up like a piece of meat. She clears her throat, trying to make herself as big as possible.

“I suppose I am, yeah, what’s it to you?” The man chuckles before letting out a low whistle.

“He better keep a close eye on you, sweet thing.” His grin makes her stomach twist unpleasantly. Another man sidles up, sitting down on the armrest of her chair. She leans into the other side, jerking away as he takes a strand of her hair between his fingers.

“What’re you going out with Harrington for, baby? Pretty little thing like you could do a whole lot better.” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest after flicking his hand away. 

“Well, I’m really sorry, gentleman. I didn’t mean to bother you, but I’m just trying to wait for my date. So if you could, you know, fuck off, I’d appreciate it.” The men both laugh at her bite. Mustache shuffles forward, bending over until he’s level with her face. She does her best to meet his gaze, unblinking.

“Harrington better teach you some manners, honey. That’s no way to be talking to men. I suggest you show us a little more respect.” He grins again, crooked, beer-stained teeth and breath that reeks of cigarettes.

“And I suggest you get the fuck out of my face.” 

“Now listen here, you little–”

“Michaels, Cahill, I see you’ve met my girl.” Both men immediately back off. Her stomach drops, knowing that Steve is not going to like what he heard one bit. He didn’t like her swearing, sure, but in the brief time they had been together, she had also learned that Steve was a violently jealous man with a very short temper. He offers his hand to her and she takes it, getting pulled into his side with his arm around her waist.

“You’ve got a real spitfire on your hands there, Harrington. Gonna have to hose that one down to handle the heat.” The two men laugh, slapping Steve on the back as they walk away, Steve’s face set in a tight smile that really looks more like a grimace. She sees the way his jaw is ticking. He pulls slightly away from her, taking her hand to lead her out of the station, a muttered “let’s go” is all she gets. What a great start to the night.

He hails them a cab outside, and when they get in, she furrows her brow at him when he gives the driver directions that are definitely not to the restaurant they were supposed to be going to. She goes to question him, but he cuts her off.

“We’re going back to mine. That ok with you, spitfire?” She swallows hard, a cold weight settling at the base of her spine. She nods, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. The hand not draped over her shoulder reaches up to grab her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“I asked you a question, bunny. And I expect an answer.” She does her best to steady her voice, but it still comes out a little shaky.

“Yes, Steve. That’s ok with me.” 

The rest of the car ride is silent, Steve’s hand coming to wrap around the swell of her thigh. She hates to admit it, but even as much as his tough guy act upsets her, it also makes something in her twist, heat already starting to build.

Even when he’s pissed, Steve is still polite. He gets out of the cab first, jogging around the side to open her door for her, holding her hand all the way up to his apartment’s floor. But once they get inside it’s a different story.

The second he closes the door, he’s got her pinned up against it, palms framing her face. Normally, she’d play along, fine with skipping the date and going straight to fucking. She liked it as much as he seemed to, the intensity. But tonight, she was exhausted, hadn’t eaten since this morning because of her stupid class schedule, running around all afternoon trying to console and advise her hopeless freshmen, and had been really looking forward to at least some quiet, simple time with Steve. Plainly put, she wasn’t having it.

She shoves lightly at his chest, huffing above his head that had already dipped to bite and suck at her neck.

“Steve, Steve. C’mon, j-just slow down a bit. There’s no need to get so f-fucking worked up.” She knows it was the exactly wrong thing to say right now, but quite frankly she’s too tired to care. He freezes in what he’s doing, letting out a low scoff before leaning back to peer at her. 

“What did I tell you about that mouth, baby? Embarrassing me in front of those pricks. Tell me, is that how you talk to all your little college boys, huh?” He’s brought one hand to rest right at the base of her throat, thumb pressing up the length of her neck.

“Wha– what are you talking about? What boys, Steve? I’ve only been seeing you. You know that.” He laughs and the edge to it makes her stomach clench.

“I don’t know, doll. With a mouth like that, I find it a little hard to believe you haven’t been whoring yourself out. Spreading your legs to whoever’s looking. Such a stupid slut.” This is new. Sure, Steve can be degrading in bed, but it’s always superficial stuff, never crossing some unconsciously agreed upon boundary. But this is starting to graze bone. She shoves him again, this time successfully dipping out from his grasp before whirling around to look at him.

“Jesus christ. You need to grow up, Steve. Quit being such a fucking tough guy for five seconds,” she scoffs lightly, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I need to sit down.” She turns to walk over to his couch but he quickly grips her wrist, pulling her back to him until her forearms are crashing into his chest.

“You don’t fucking walk away from me. You’re my girl. Mine. And when you talk to me you’ll do it with some fucking respect–”

She’s doing it before her brain can even process, arcing her free hand out and slapping him clean across the face, his head jerking to the side. He lets go of her, a look of shock dragged down his face.

“You sound just like them and it makes me sick.” She storms off down the hall towards his bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. Truthfully, she has no clue what she’s doing, or what she just did. She should have marched right out the front door, but now she’s stuck, sitting on the edge of the bathtub with her head in her hands. She can’t help the sobs that start to softly roll through her, a culmination of a terrible day.

She’s startled by soft knocks at the door.

“Baby? Baby, please come out. I’m so sorry, honey, please– will you please come out? I didn’t mean it, baby, I just– you know how I get– just still worked up from the job this afternoon, that’s all. Please, pretty baby, let me make it up to you? Please, honey.” Steve’s voice is soft, a mumbling murmur of pleas slipping under the door.

She doesn’t say anything. Wouldn’t know what to say in the first place. For now, she stays seated, counting her breaths, trying to calm down, to figure out what to do next. She can hear him let out a long sigh, and the sound of feet shuffling. It’s been maybe forty five minutes when she opens the door, finding him sitting right next to it, his back against the wall, his forehead resting on his drawn-in knees. She can’t help but notice how small he looks.

His head shoots up and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he had been crying.

“I’m sorry, baby.” She sighs, kneeling down in front of him.

“It’s ok, Steve. I-I forgive you. But you can’t get like that everytime something upsets you. What you said really hurt. You call me your girl and I am your girl, but you have to trust in what that means.” He swallows thickly, nodding, allowing her to take one of his hands in hers.

“I do trust you, pretty. It’s everyone else I don’t trust. S’just, you could have anyone. So fucking smart, and beautiful. Sometimes I don’t get why you’re with me.” She squeezes his hand, scooting a little closer to him.

“Steve, I want you. Don’t care about anyone else. But I need you to trust me when I tell you that. Need you to talk to me about what you’re feeling instead of just taking it out on me. I do want you, baby, but not enough to stick around if you keep treating me like that.” Steve nods hard at that, slowly shifting to stand up, bringing her along with him. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug. Her cheek squishes right above his heartbeat.

“I’ll be better, baby. I promise. Be the kind of guy you deserve.” She sighs into his chest, letting herself relax into his arms a bit more. Steve pulls back just slightly to look down at her.

“You hungry, pretty?” She smiles, a bit sheepishly, nodding up at him.

…

They order chinese and have dinner on his couch. He feeds her bites of his lo mein and she can’t help but feel a sense of whiplash, looking at this sweet man who just a few hours ago was an angry mess. But he is sweet, just enough to put earlier this evening out of her mind. 

He takes both their finished containers and sets them down on the coffee table, turning to look at her lazily smiling at him. He clears his throat.

“I really am sorry, pretty. Didn’t mean to hurt you. Never wanna hurt you.” She reaches out to card her fingers through his hair and his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“I know, baby. I accept your apology. Just don’t do it again, yeah?” He nods, shifting on the couch until he’s pressed up against her, his arm around her shoulders. He drops a soft kiss to her lips.

“Wanna make it up to you, doll. Will you let me? Let me make you feel good?” She takes a sharp breath as his hand on her thigh starts to skirt up, her dress riding up her legs along with it. She nods, a hummed “mmhmm,” all it takes for Steve to slide down onto his knees in front of her.

He brings both palms to splay over the softness of her thighs, dragging them up and up until he finds the band of her panties. He doesn’t even have to say anything, she lifts her hips for him as if on command, letting him slide the light blue cotton down her legs, tossing them off to the side. It’s quiet, save for her broken exhales, as he guides the backs of her knees over his shoulders, shifting her hips down to the edge of the couch. He lets his lips drag along the insides of her thighs, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his simpering wake. He keeps getting frustratingly close to her cunt before dipping back to nip and suckle at her thighs. She lets out a long whine the next time he does it. He grins up at her.

“What is it, pretty? You gotta tell me what you want.” She huffs at his teasing.

“I want you, please.”

“You got me, baby. Gonna have to be more specific.” She pulls the one card she knows will stop his toying with her.

“I want your mouth, daddy. Please, daddy, need your mouth.” She can see the corners of his mouth flickering. Got him.

“Good girl. Daddy’s gonna give it to you. Anything you want, baby, just gotta ask.” He mumbles the last bit as he dips his head down, drawing a long arc through her folds with his tongue. She preens under the sudden contact.

Steve works her over with a desperate hunger, only pulling away to spit roughly at her cunt before chasing after the pooling wetness there. There’s a lewd squelching sound as he suckles on her clit, making her throw her head back in a low moan, digging her heel into his back.

“That’s it, bunny. Let daddy hear how good it feels, give it all to me.” He dips lower, fucking his tongue into her cunt and she gasps, fisting one of her hands in his hair, earning a low thrumming groan from him that burns through her core. His nose is catching her clit just right as he continues to lick into her before he draws his mouth back up, letting two fingers slide in where his tongue just was. She lets out a broken cry when he finds that spot inside her, stroking it with each thrust of his hand. He’s panting when he comes up for air.

“Want you to come on my fingers, bunny. Can you do that for daddy? Make a fucking mess of me, baby.” She whimpers, nodding frantically, her eyes scrunched shut as she rocks her hips against his face and palm, chasing a high that’s teetering dangerously close.

“Open your eyes, pretty. Want your eyes on me when you come. Be a good girl.” She does what he says, eyes blowing wide and the sight of him, hair a mess, cheeks damp with her, his pupils blown out, is enough to send her right over the edge. She cries out, hips lifting up, pulsing around his fingers before slowly melting into a breathless mess. Steve sits up on his knees, pulling her in for a kiss and she groans at the taste of herself on his tongue.

He murmurs for her to wrap her legs around him and she does, always surprised by his stolid strength when he lifts her up off the couch, carrying her to his bedroom. He lays her back on his bed, caging her in between his forearms as they meet in another kiss. He presses his hips firmly into hers and she can feel his hardness as he shunts his hips forward, dragging along her sensitive cunt.

She fumbles for the hem of his shirt before he gets the hint, peeling away from her to yank it off by the collar before unbuckling his belt. She quickly pulls her dress off over her head and when he dives back down to meet her, his mouth goes to lick over a peaked nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. She sighs, pressing her chest up towards his mouth, giving him the space to reach around and unclasp her bra before sliding it down her shoulders. He pauses for a moment, slack jawed, as he takes her in. His hand comes to her jaw before running his thumb over her bottom lip, he sighs.

“So fucking beautiful.” She takes his thumb into her mouth, sucking on it, earning a low grumbling moan from him before he takes it from her mouth with a startling pop.

He shuffles his jeans and boxers down his legs before hovering back over her, pressing the fat head of his cock through her folds. They both groan at the contact. 

“P-please don’t tease me, daddy. Need it so bad.” He scoffs at her crumpled expression.

“I know what you need, baby. Daddy’s got you, huh?” With that, he lines himself up with her entrance, pressing forward. It always has been and continues to be a stretch, a pleasure that dips into pain as he digs his hips into hers, bottoming out. She draws her nails down his back, feeling him shudder under the delicate scrapes he’s sure to be left with. He dips his face into her neck, pressing chaste kisses along her jumping tendons.

“Can I move, pretty. Are you ok?” She gasps out a “yes” and he rolls his hips experimentally, a long, digging thrust that makes her eyes roll back. He grabs onto the plush of her thigh before guiding her leg to wrap around his hip, spreading her out for him. The pace he sets is slow but harsh, punches of his hips that send her rocking up the length of the bed. They’re wrapped in the sounds of their heavy breathing, the sloppy wetness of his thrusts into her, and the headboard lightly banging against the wall.

He brings the rough pads of his fingers down to swipe across her clit and she cries out, clenching hard around him. Everytime they fuck, she’s reminded that she’s never had anyone press this deep into her, a feeling that churns her insides and sets pleasure pooling in her stomach.

“Need to feel you, baby. Need you to come on my cock. Come on, pretty, let go.” His groaned words are all it takes for that pleasure to spill over for the second time, her arms pulling him down until he’s practically laying on top of her. He continues to grind into her, fucking her through her high in a way that keeps her pleasure thrumming at an almost unbearable high. 

He presses up onto one hand, the other holding onto her hip in a way she’s sure will leave bruises. His hips are starting to stutter and she can tell he’s close.

“You’re mine, right doll? Tell me you’re mine.” She gazes up at him, dragging her fingers through his hair.

“M’all yours, daddy. All for you, baby. I’m yours.” He lets out a broken moan at her words, digging his face back into her neck.

“Fuck– say my name, baby. Say my fucking name.” “Steve, want you to come for me– p-please come for me.”

“M’close, baby– fuck– s-so close. Where do you want me?”

“Inside, wanna feel you, Steve– give it to me, baby– please, wanna feel you f-fill me up.” He lets out a warbly curse before pressing his hips into hers bruisingly as she feels his warmth start to spread inside her. He sighs into her collarbone, letting his lips dance across her skin.

They lay entangled for a few moments, listening as their breaths start to slow down. She winces as he pulls out of her, immediately feeling the way his spend drips onto the sheets. Thank god for birth control. He presses a firm kiss to her lips before getting up and stepping into the bathroom, coming back with a warm towel to clean her up.

He murmurs a sorry into the soft swell of her stomach when she hisses under his ministrations, already feeling the ache settling into her hips. He tosses the towel into his hamper, sliding on a clean pair of boxers and bringing one of his t-shirts over to her. They move silently, they’ve done this many times.

She offers him a soft smile as she slides the worn-out shirt over her head. Steve settles back into bed, pulling her to rest her chin on his chest. They share another small kiss before descending into silence. There’s nothing left to say. She wants so badly for him to have meant what he said earlier, that he’ll start to let her in a bit more. But she also knows they had a very similar conversation just last week, when they had gotten back to Steve’s place with him nursing a set of bloodied, swollen knuckles from the face of the poor guy who had tried to talk to her. Everytime, she swears that the next time he pulls something like that, she’ll leave and not look back. And everytime, he draws her right back in. There’s something in her heart for him that she’s not yet ready to press on, to speak aloud. Too afraid of what it could mean.

He falls asleep before her, the gentle rise and fall of his chest underneath her cheek. She shifts slightly to gaze up at him, one of the rare moments when his features are soft, at peace. She thinks that maybe there’s hope for Steve Harrington yet.

[simple-and-cozy-life]

I've been so stressed from the changes happening in my life that I forgot that, even though this is going to suck, God is going to get me through this transitional time. Eventually, I will have the stability that I need and I will have a family.

Life will persist and so must I.

[skyrim-forever]

What inspired you to write?

This is such a great question, thank you so much <3

I gotta do a bit of background first. Growing up I was an art kid, I liked painting, drawing, charcoal, whatever I could get my hands on. My best friend was (and still is) a very gifted writer so I (incorrectly) fell into the idea that I shouldn't even bother to write because she could do it so much better. Then when I was 16 I went through something that caused me to develop PTSD and I couldn't do art anymore. All the life had gotten sucked out of me.

I enter university and suddenly I am surrounded by all these people who didn't have hobbies so much as they had competitive skills. I remember mentioning I liked dancing and had taken some free classes run by someone in my hometown; turns out they had been competitive dancing since they were four! I mentioned I used to do art, they blew anything I ever did out of the water! So I just stopped even trying things because it felt like if I wasn't doing something to be great at it there was no point. I also had other insecurities that played a bit part but I don't want to discuss them publicly.

Then I get to grad school, I end up making a new tumblr account for tes stuff and I start making friends with people who write fanfic. I've been reading fic since I was 14 so it was so cool to interact with wips and seeing things develop. Overtime seeing how supportive everyone was I started to get interested in trying. Some authors I'm very glad to call friends like @dirty-bosmer @lucien-lachance and @thequeenofthewinter are who inspired me to just do it.

The first piece I wrote I was from the Skyrim Sexyman Poll, last Feb. I don't think it's a good piece of writing, but I keep it up on ao3 because it's important. It needed to exist because it showed me I could, I could in fact write fanfic. And then I was like hmmm, fanfic is all about writing scenarios you want, what do I want? And I wanted Ondolemar smut I'll be honest. I've written some other fics that aren't about him and I like them, but having a blorbo is so good for the creative proccess. And it's helped me find my voice and now that I am freed from the shackles of grad school I'm feeling more creative than ever and want to start writing other characters and write weirder fanfic :P

The phrase "the first draft's job is to exist" has done wonders for me <3

TLDR: the cool authors here were so cool that I wanted to be like them too :P

[cowgurrrl]

yay you‘re an aries, too 💕

ugh i‘ve gotta write my term paper and i‘m sooo annoyed because i really hate one of the the authors whose work i‘m analyzing (it‘s about 16th century art literature) but i gotta do it because i‘m only two assignments away from my masters thesis and i‘m sooo exhausted ;_;

okay sorry for the rant. i was just wondering if maybeee you‘d like to write a cute lil’ drabble or hc about joel supporting a reader that’s struggling with their assignment for uni? >_<

anyhow, love you & your writing. keep up the good work & take care of yourself 💕

Congratulations on your master’s thesis!! You’re going to do amazing things! I took this in a little more of preoutbreak!Joel hc so I hope you enjoy 💓

Joel as your study buddy headcanons

Pairing: preoutbreak!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: the lovely Joel “fractions” Miller gif is by @loregifs also I am slowly working through requests!! Thank you for sending me so many fun ones! 🫶

Warnings: school stress, fluff!!

I don’t think Joel would’ve gone to college and if he did, I don’t think he would’ve finished it out because of Sarah but when he meets you while you’re in the midst of your grad courses, he’s in awe of your work ethic and determination

He likes to look over your shoulder when you're transcribing notes or reading for class

Definitely would stop by campus to have lunch with you if he had a job nearby

One time Sarah had an early release day on the same day Joel had a rural site forty five minutes away so you picked her up and had to take her to lecture with you

She loved every minute of it. She liked roaming the campus and listening to your professor, even if she didn’t fully understand what she was talking about, and asked you a million different questions about college

Will literally listen to you ramble about the newest thing you’re learning because he likes seeing you get so excited/engaged

When finals roll around, he’s not quite sure what he can do to help the blanket-covered, ink-stained, stressed heap of grad student in his living room but he’ll occasionally walk by and kiss your temple, saying praises into your skin

“You’re so smart.” “You can do this.” “D’you need anything?” “You’re gonna do great.” “I love you.”

He’d definitely be the type of guy who would cut up fruit and wordlessly leave it on the table in front of you with a glass of water

When you’re crying because of the stress, deadlines, readings, he’s always there to soothe your anxiety and offer you a break

Sometimes you two will sit and watch some mindless reality show or talk to Sarah about her day or go for a drive, pointing out the wildflowers on the side of the highway. He’ll do anything to get your mind to reset so you can come back to your studying

He’d help you run through your flashcards so you can study but not before trying to make a stripping game out of it

“Joel, I need to pass!” “That’s why it’s effective!”

When you eventually do pass all your finals, he takes you and Sarah out to dinner and tells the waiter about how smart his girlfriend is when the poor guy asks if you’re celebrating anything

Joel takes any opportunity to gush about you

When you graduate, he makes the BIGGEST DEAL

He’s the loudest person at graduation and showers you with flowers, kisses, and attention. You and Sarah just laugh at his theatrics but love him for it anyways

He would definitely splurge and buy you the nice frame for your diploma and you very quickly tell him he doesn’t have to because they’re so expensive but he just kisses you to shut you up

“I wanted to. ‘M proud of you and I want everyone to know,” he mumbles against you. “Besides, when you make me a trophy husband, it’ll balance out.”

[chaotic-archaeologist]

hey reid, hope you don't mind if i come for some advice, i love your blog and it has motivated me to pursue my academic goals.

i'm currently in my first semester of my graduate program and while i like my peers, professors and everything i can't help but feel crushingly depressed and alone lol. i'm managing grad work fine (i think) but my advisor will check in on how i'm doing overall and i don't think i can really say i've mentally been in a bad place if it's even relevant to bring up. i don't want it to get to the point of it affecting my work, though i don't want to be dishonest.

Okay, so the good news and the bad news is that what you're experiencing is a totally normal part of grad school. Everyone goes through this to a certain degree. You've just moved to a new place and started a massively imposing endeavor—it makes sense that you're lonely and depressed. There's nothing wrong with you for feeling this way.

Also, you said it yourself: you're in your first semester of your graduate program! Nobody is expecting you to have done anything monumental yet. Walk before you try to run. If you can go to a conference and apply for some funding by the end of the year, I would call that a win.

I bet you're probably used to being in the top of your undergraduate classes, and now in grad school you're thrown in with a bunch of other people who were also overachievers. It's intimidating. There's the temptation to look around at your peers and feel inadequate. Do not let yourself do this. That way, madness lies. I guarantee you that everyone else around you is feeling a similar panic about what they haven't done.

I would actually encourage you to talk with your advisor. You don't have to open up about your feelings. Instead, frame it around what you hope to accomplish, and check to see if they think that's reasonable. Last year around this time (when I was in my first semester) I sat down my advisor and we sketched out a rough two year plan. That included what classes I was going to take each semester, how I would spend my time in the summer, and opportunities I wanted to go after. If that kind of structure might help you, definitely do something similar.

Now here's my one piece of absolutely critical advice: you must find something that affirms your sense of self your outside of school. For me, it's volunteering with Big Brothers Big Sisters. One of my friends takes dance classes. Another does community organizing. Cooking. Roller derby. Anything that you can enjoy. The benefits to these sorts of activities are twofold.

First, they give you something to feel good about even when you're struggling academically. If your whole life is tied up in one thing, it can feel like the end of the world when you hit a rough patch. Spread your eggs out into other baskets. This is a form of self care.

Second, these activities introduce you to other people. A big part of making friends is just showing up at the same place as other people, and continuing to spend time with them. Grad school makes that difficult, but I promise you, your life will be so much better if you carve out some time for yourself.

Doing things with other students is also good! I took a bunch of my cohort to hockey games last year, and I'm planning on doing the same thing again. It can be a craft night, or a potluck—whatever you want. Build up some camaraderie! You don't have to be best friends with your fellow students, but it helps to have a friendly face around the department.

The thing about grad school is that you gotta spark your own joy, otherwise it'll eat you alive. Pull your nose back from the grindstone, take a breath, and do something to remind yourself that the world is beautiful and life is worth living.

-Reid

[hekateinhell]

Tell me abt preggers armand please. I have a fic im working on and need 2 hear other peoples opinions on this topic 😈

🥹🥹🥹

okay so first of all i'm so upset i didn't see this ask until i checked my askbox on my phone which i almost NEVER do anymore since i'm getting old and prefer to just answer things via laptop where i can keyboard smash at full capacity raw and unfiltered but like MY DMS ARE OPEN I'M NOT ALWAYS THE FASTEST RESPONDER BECAUSE I'M IN GRAD SCHOOL AND LIFE AND WHATEVER BUT I DON'T TRUST TUMBLR ANYMORE BECAUSE I DIDN'T SEE THIS UNTIL YESTERDAY ON DESKTOP TUMBLR PLS DON'T DEPRIVE ME OF MY PEOPLE

now that that's out of the way:

it depends! you have to be more specific, like are we talking vampires? human AU? BECAUSE I'VE GOT SOMETHING FOR EACH

canon verse/vampire:

don't ask me to explain the science or whatever lol i don't care, i just skip to the pregnancy part!

i think armand would be SO FUCKING FERAL and defensive, like he's lost so much and been so traumatized in so many ways, the idea of anything happening to his baby would have him in full gremlin mode. imagine a feral cat hissing and spitting and clawing and biting (not for food but for violence)!

on the other hand, he'd be obsessively bonded to his baby daddy (daddies, if there's multiple babies). he is not letting them out of his sight (i default to lestat here LMAO listen i want them to knock each other up so bad--separate universes obviously)

HE WOULD NEST SO FUCKING HARD!!! i was going to say i apologize for my brain but then i realized that i don't actually but i want him to nest on a pile of lestat's clothes and give birth right there like a fucking cat 🥹

ALTERNATIVELY THOUGH: i also had this idea that's like louis impregnates lestat and armand at the same time and they get to go through their pregnancies together and it's every bit as horny, hellish, and sweet as you'd imagine 🫶🏻 i've said it before and i'll say it again--lestat would be the WORST pregnant person ever dead or alive!!

now for human AUs:

i guess my thoughts here primarily but not exclusively exist within the same universe as I Feel You (sorry idk if you read that fic but tl;dr- IT'S PWP OF TRANS!ARMAND 2/3RDS OF THE WAY INTO GETTING A TRAIN RUN ON HIM BY HIS BOYFRIENDS LESTAT, LOUIS, AND DANIEL AND HE'S YOUNG DUMB AND FULL OF CUM SO YOU KNOW IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE HE'S GOTTA PEE ON A STICK RIP BOYS)

i think each of his boyfriends would handle the whole thing differently! lestat would be so over the moon because he's careless (clearly) but also so damaged from his own childhood he would just see it as a chance for a do-over, reality and responsibility be damned. lestat's on sex and backrub duty, and he's good at it (the backrubs i mean, sex is a 50/50 but you know what, at least he's enthusiastic and good at manhandling armand so that's 70% of it right now and the 30% is absolutely ridiculous horny pregnancy hormones)

louis panics internally as he immediately starts creating a spreadsheet of their finances. outwardly though, he's very calm and supportive and he's the one who's most able to comfort armand the most and settle him down during his crazy mood swings. armand basically lives in louis's baggy sweaters during the last trimester

daniel panics outwardly (listen LOL the whole premise of Our House is that human!daniel molloy is not ready for children and i find it hard to budge from that mindset, but he could ease into the Cool Uncle role quite nicely). he handles distractions and food cravings, and he might not be down to be a dad yet but he does buy very thoughtful and sentimental baby gifts every now and then that make armand tear up

i was gonna add mermaid AU thoughts but then i remembered armand's laying eggs instead (he's feral during that whole process too so i guess it's similar to the vampire version. i just love him so much okay!!!)

OH ONE LAST VERY IMPORTANT THING

pregnant!armand fics on ao3 I'M CRAZY ABOUT AND HAVE REREAD AT LEAST 10 TIMES:

shelter by @rainbowcarousels

it must be the clouds in my eyes and everything in that series by @its-ness-ness