#part of me wants it all to go smoothly and for this to be EASY for oli to manage compared to . well. everything else he does normally

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟜 – 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕔 (𝓕𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓓𝓻𝓸𝓹)

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

Part 1 𝜗𝜚 Part 2 𝜗𝜚 Part 3

𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 3 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓭 12/27

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚞𝚣𝚣𝙲𝚞𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warning: language, verbal + physical fighting, graphic violence, blood mentioned, pet names, jealous!rafe, kissing, angst, manipulation, multiple povs, cheating, SMUT warning later

📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you. What Rafe didn't expect was his jealousy… And what you didn't expect was a text from Cam a week later wanting to see you again. Rafe told you it was ‘okay’ if Cam stopped by. During the Skype convo, you realize that Rafe has no idea that his brother is there… Cam placed the original call. Rafe thinks you’re alone, and you leave it that way

Reader’s POV:

You glance at Cam, his wide eyes on yours, reflective and remorseful, but his face only adds to your anxiety. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. You reach for Rafe’s jersey and your panties, tugging them back on as tears well in your eyes.

“Cam, why did you—why did you do that?” You whisper, your voice is shaky with nerves. “Why would you pretend to be Rafe? Why would you lie to me like that?”

He shrugs defeatedly. “I wasn’t thinking…”

“You weren’t,” you whimper, avoiding his gaze as you tug on some sleep shorts, stumbling slightly as your body trembles. The weight of your deceit is suffocating, wearing heavily on your heart. Nothing is fine…

“I’m sorry. I don't know what else to say. I just couldn't stop thinkin’ about you, and I knew he was only going to get in the way-”

“As he should, Cam! You came in here? Why the fuck wouldn’t you have stayed out in the living room? This is bad enough on its own! Just fuckin’ leave.” Cam walks toward you, wrapping himself up in your arms. You bury your head in his chest, trying to fight him away but he just holds you tighter.

“I didn’t want to make things worse,” he says quietly, his voice calm but firm. “I know you don’t want me to leave.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words don’t come out. He’s right—part of you wanted him here. You’ve been thinking about it since the second he left. But that didn’t change anything… “No,” you whimper, your voice cracking with the emotion you’re trying to hold back. “I don’t want this… I don’t want this mess,” you whisper. “You and Rafe got me into this shit, and now everything feels like it’s falling apart. Rafe and I… we were so fuckin’ happy, Cam,” you whisper as tears start to glass in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles softly against your skin. “We never wanted you to feel this way, baby. It wasn’t supposed to be anything at all.”

You can hear the emotion in his words, the desire to pull away, and the desperation to hold on, pulling you in two directions.

“Just please… Just let Rafe and I work this out in the morning, alright? You don’t gotta worry about it. I don’t want to go anywhere, and I fuckin’ won’t. Rafe doesn’t want to lose you… He’d do anything for you. We got you into this mess. We will figure it out. Okay?”

You take a deep breath, completely overwhelmed by the moment. You had no idea what would happen next. Cam made it seem so easy—his thoughts about how Rafe would act if they just talked it out flowed so smoothly from his mouth; it’s almost like he believed that lie himself.

Cam was here… And a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go.

The darkness is exchanged for the day, soft light bleeding through the blinds as the sounds of the morning creeps through the cracked window. You shift slightly, letting out a lazy stretch, watching Cam’s hand move across your hip, making you freeze. The gravity of the situation sets in. You reach for your phone, checking the time, your head quickly snapping to the door as you hear a set of keys jiggle in the lock.

Your heart skips a beat with the creaking of the hinges, Rafe’s heavy feet moving along the hardwood floor; the thud of his bag landing shortly after. You tap Cam fast before scrambling to your feet, panic flooding your body. “Holy shit,” you whisper under your breath as you walk toward the closed door.

“Baby, you here?”

You push open the door, taking a step into the living room. Rafe’s smile doubles when he sees you. You feel the blood drain from your face as his demeanor shifts. He stands there stunned, his chest rising and falling slightly as his world crashes around him with Cam standing behind you.

“The fuck is happening?”

You reach for a breath, filling your lungs with air as you search for the words that will make this better, but there’s nothing that can make this better. Rafe stands there, his face unreadable for the moment, waiting for either of us to speak before something cracks.

“I said, ‘What the fuck is happening, huh?’” Rafe’s voice echoes through the house, hitting your chest hard.

“I’ll handle this, baby,” Cam says softly, his words sending chills down your spine as he steps around you, his eyes locked on Rafe’s and Rafe’s on his. Even the simple term of endearment felt wrong–hearing him say it so casually in front of Rafe. That simple name that let Rafe know that this was anything but casual for either of you.

“The fuck did you call her?” He asks in disgust, his voice tight with anger and confusion.

“What, you gettin’ jealous now?”

“Jealous?” Rafe’s voice raises, veins protruding as he steps toward the confrontation. “I’m not jealous of fuckin’ shit. Jealous? Jealous of you and MY fuckin’ girlfriend?”

Cam doesn’t flinch, taking a step closer as well. “Well, we both know she’s not just yours. So yeah. Think I'll call her whatever the fuck I like.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and everything went dead silent for the moment.

“Rafe-”

“Don't,” Cam stops you, putting a hand up, pleading with you to stop before you can say anything, his eyes soft and gentle, taking an entirely different approach with you. Rafe’s hands balled into fists, his muscles tight; face red. “You need to get the fuck out,” he spits, his voice low and lethal.

Cam doesn't budge; his posture relaxed. He’s probably the only person in the world who wouldn’t be cowering now. Rafe’s body language matches Cam’s, their emotions like looking in a goddamn mirror.

“Not goin’ anywhere,” Cam breathes.

“Rafe,” you gasp as Rafe’s fist shoots out, connecting with his brother’s jaw, making him struggle back, your stomach turning at the sound of it. Cam lunges at Rafe, pushing him back, making him hit the counter, and pictures and items crash to the floor.

The fight became a storm of punches, shoves, and sheer chaos as you watched in horror, neither of them showing any signs of backing down at all as you yelled and screamed for them to stop.

It was a fair fight–each landed jab met with equal force. Your hand clasps over your mouth as you watch your boyfriend go at it. You’ve seen him fight plenty; Rafe always gets the upper hand and fast. But not now… They don’t stop; their faces a mess of blood and bruises, lips split, noses bleeding, but neither seems to care.

That tension… That frustration that you felt all week was clearly felt by the boys as well. Mixing their jealousy on top of it… this was bound to happen. You try to stop them one last time, knowing the only way to tear these two dogs apart would be to leave.

Tears well in your eyes as you grab your keys and head toward the door,. Just as you reach the it, everything stops; just the sounds of their heavy breathing fill the space around you. “You can’t be serious?” Rafe pants, his voice breaking with anger. “Gonna fuck my brother. Walk out and not say shit to me?” Rafe’s voice bellows through the house. You turn around, matching his darkened eyes as tears of shame and sadness slip down your cheeks.

“You guys are scaring me, alright?” You cry. “I just wanted you to stop.”

“M’sorry, princess,” Cam pants, and Rafe shoves his fist against his chest, grabbing a handful of his shirt as he pulls it tight.

“You better shut your fuckin’ mouth.”

“Yeah, bitch? Or what?” Cam spits with a cruel smile as he steps closer, pushing his forehead against Rafe’s.

“STOP! Just fucking stop, alright?” You scream, making both of them turn to you. “Look at you guys. What the fuck is happening right now?” You ask, your voice laced with tears. “This whole situation is a fucking mess. And you both ruined everything. EVERYTHING!”

You turn your attention to Cam, walking toward him, pressing your finger into his chest as your heart hammers. “You lied about that fucking phone call, Cam.”

“What phone call?” Rafe asks weakly.

“You shouldn’t be here!” You continue. “I trusted you… You pretended to be your own brother. You came into the room and blindsided me mid-conversation. I can’t help how I feel about you, alright? I’m sorry that I feel something for you after that night. But I fucking do. Okay? Okay?” You scream, turning your attention from Cam to Rafe. “You know that I love you, Rafe… But you also know there’s something between him and me, and I can’t fuckin’ stop. And Cam… Jesus Christ. You keep putting me in situations, tempting me where if I turn you down I lose you.”

“I’m sorry I-” Cam starts.

“No fuck you. Keep your fucking sorrys to you self. And you,” your eyes cut to Rafe. “You ruined everything. If you wanted me to yourself, why would you put me through this in the first place, huh? You made me fucking beg for this, Rafe. And then, even after I begged, you said ‘it wasn’t enough,’ you wanted me to beg some more. If I meant so much to you, why the HELL would you even suggest this? You knew I was worried. You said ‘that night wouldn’t change anything,’ and I fucking believed you.”

“Just calm down, alright-”

“I told you I was worried!” You interject, voice shattered as you choke out your words. “I said that this isn’t something you do with a girlfriend. This seems like something you would do with some random girl at a bar. Not someone you wanted to be with forever. You said, ‘It was just going to be a fun night…’”

“I didn't think this would happen…”

“You messed me up, Rafe. I caught feelings for your brother and I love you. You put me in this situation, and now we’re fucked.”

Rafe’s face goes pale, his jaw clenched tightly as he looks at you, trying to comprehend what you’re saying.

Your bottom lip quivers as you blink away your tears, tugging off Rafe’s gold family ring before resting it on the counter. His eyes soften with hurt and anger. “You’re actin’ like you didn’t just sleep with my brother when I told you last week that I was jealous.”

“Yeah, Rafe? And when I told you ‘we don’t have to do that again’ and ‘I won’t talk to Cam,’ you said that ‘it wasn’t necessary and you just want me to remember who I belong to’.”

“Mhmm-yeah,” he huffs as he steps a little closer. “And I told you ‘I didn’t want him talking to you without me,’ and you fucked him…” His nostrils flare as tears brim in his waterline.

“We didn’t,” Cam mumbles.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” Rafe screams back at his brother before turning his attention back to you, taking a deep breath. “You did somethin’ I know you did,” he softens his tone, hurt and accusatory, cutting right through you. “I need a fuckin’ answer, alright? Me or him?”

You take a deep, shaky breath, not giving him the quick answer he was looking for.

“JESUS FUCK. I can’t believe I’m even askin’ you this twice. ME OR HIM?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“How the FUCK you not know, huh? I am so fucking sure about you. How the hell do you not know?”

“Because, Rafe… We’re not going through the same shit. You have no idea what this feels like for me. I’m fuckin’ spiraling. I didn’t tell you about the text I got from Cam this morning. It was eating at me all day… I didn’t know whether to respond or let it go. And, I knew that if I didn’t say anything, he’d come regardless because you two are the fuckin’ same. So, when he called pretending to be you, I told him about the texts. He told me ‘I was fine,’ he told me to ‘stop worrying,’ and that he would talk to him… And then when he got here, he told me it’s okay and that you have me… You’re both fucking liars. The second I found out that he wasn’t telling the truth, I should have told you… I should have asked him to leave. But I didn’t want to.”

“Why?” he asks, his voice thick with frustration.

“I could ask you the same fuckin’ thing, Rafe. Why did we do this in the first place? Why are you jealous? Why are things different with me? I don’t know why I feel this way, just like you don’t know why all of a sudden this little thing the two of you do for fun all the sudden turned into the bad fuckin’ idea it was. I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving? Where are you goin’?” Rafe asks as you storm down the front porch, the two boys trailing close behind you.

You grab the car door, tugging it open, but Rafe grabs it, his piercing blue eyes burning into yours. “I don’t know what I want anymore,” you breathe.

“You said ‘you love me,’” he struggles to push the words through his tight lips. “You said ‘you loved me, and you’re fuckin’ leaving me.”

“Oh my god. I love you, Rafe. We were fuckin’ perfect… Excuse me for needing a moment to think about how that got taken away.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he pleads, his knuckles turning white with his grip on the door. “I can’t lose you. Please.”

“Don’t leave,” Cam steps in. “Please. I’ve ruined enough, okay? I’ve fucked up so much shit for the two of you. I should have known this would eventually happen. I know how Rafe talks about you… He loves you so much. We weren’t thinking. I’ll go. Just–Just don’t leave him,” Cam begs, holding back his emotions too.

“I’m not choosing either of you… I just need some time to think.” You tug on the door; Rafe fights against you monetarily, “Give me some fucking time to think, Rafe.”

He submits as he sees the look in your eyes and the pain all this caused. “I’m sorry, princess.”

𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻, 𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓱 𝓛𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻…

iMessages

Rafe: I messed up baby

Rafe: I never should’ve put you in that position and I’m so sorry

Rafe: I love you more than anything

Cam: I’m sorry for everything that happened and for lying to you. I knew by the way Rafe talked about you that it was dumb in the first place, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know where this was headed even before we started.

Cam: I saw you before we met. I acted like I didn’t. But I saw the two of you on IG. I saw how fucking pretty you are. Got an idea of what he kinda girl you were… listened to his stories and shit i knew this was going to be trouble before it even started.

Rafe: I keep replaying everything over and over. Everything that you told me. You were so worried and I said I would take care of you. I’m supposed to take care of you.

Cam: I’m sorry for lying to you. I can’t believe I did that shit.

Rafe: Im begging you for anything. Please

Rafe: Saw you in the library. You look so pretty baby. I miss you so much

Cam: Merry Christmas

Cam: It hurts to hear Rafe talk about you. I’m sorry

Rafe: just want you to know that I’ll do anything to fix this

Rafe: Give me 5 minutes alright? Just 5 minutes I won’t take any more of your time.

Cam: If you’re ever willing to talk to me, just know I’m here. I can meet you anywhere. Anytime.

Rafe: When you’re ready I’ll be here. I hope you’re taking care of yourself

Rafe: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me

Rafe: You’re always on my mind. I’m so fucked up about this.

Rafe: I love you

Rafe: im sorry

𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 31𝓼𝓽…

Rafe’s POV:

Apparently, there’s a party goin’ on here tonight… Smiling, laughter, and clinking glasses fill the air, but the only thing I can see is her, all the sounds around me fading into the back as my racing thoughts take the front seat.

She’s beautiful. Fuck, she always looks good. She smiles and laughs; if I didn’t know her well enough, I’d buy it… I can’t believe I lost her–fumbled the best thing I ever had. She was everything to me. Our relationship was so fucking good. Now, it’s gone.

Cam stands next to me, sipping his whiskey. He looks out at the crowd, his eyes following her, too. The tension between us is thick. He feels the same way I do. He misses her. We both fuckin’ do.

“Somethin’s off, huh?” Cam asks, his voice gentle as he picks up on the same thing I did.

I sigh deeply, running my fingers through my hair. “Yeah. That ain’t her,” I answer against the rim of my glass. ‘Not her…’ He knows what I mean: that little light that’s usually in her eyes has dimed, her forced smile not even reaching her eyes. “I fucked everything up.” I rasp, feeling the bite of the liquor burn down my throat, numbing my nerves slightly.

“We both did,” he mumbles, his voice tight as he rubs his hand over his buzzed head.

The night goes on, and I still can’t take my eyes off her. She hangs out with her friends, floating between conversations, and suddenly, my world turns upside down. A guy? Someone new? I recognized him from campus, a hockey player… Heyward? I don’t fuckin’ know. Regardless, my stomach twisted in knots seeing her with someone else because, for a split second, she looked happy, and that should have been enough, but it did nothing but make all those thoughts in my brain louder. It does nothin’ but break my heart even more.

She found someone else.

Cam and I exchange glances, quietly watching, living the same nightmare.

“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Cam said quietly, his voice full of longing.

I clench my jaw, fists tightening at my sides. “I feel the same way. But we can’t force her to choose. Looks like—” I clear my throat, battling back my tears. “Umm… It looks like she found someone else anyway.”

“No way, man.”

“Regardless, we need to give her space and let her figure it out. And if she comes back around, we just have to promise each other that whoever she chooses is just that. Alright? None of this sneakin’ around bullshit,” I whisper, trying not bring up the past, but for the first time, I get a taste of what it felt like to be him… I don’t even think I could follow my own orders if she chooses Cam. I don’t fuckin’ blame him, honestly.

“I think I love her, man,” Cam whispers.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew it was fuckin’ true– I knew after that first night they were together this shit wasn’t gonna end well for me. But hearing him say it out loud… That’s a hard pill to swallow. I shut my eyes, breathing deeply before letting out a deep sigh.

“‘Course you do…”

Got nothin’ to lose. The only thing that I had I threw away. Every day we’re not together feels like a wasted moment. Every night I spend time alone, hurts a little more than the last. I gotta make this right…

I walk up to her, my heart racing in my chest. She looks up at me, fluttering her lashes, surprised to see me here. And with my arrival little light flickering in her eyes dims entirely, and I know it’s my fault.

“Can we talk,” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.

She hesitates, then nods, giving me a gentle smile. “Okay,” the word passes her lips as I hear her voice for the first time in too long… I extend my hand, and she takes it, following me out of the thick crowd, out of the swanky hotel bar into the lobby of the Ritz.

Cam steps away from the reception desk, thanking the clerk before stuffing his wallet in his pocket. He turns toward us, eyes locked on her, that same look in his eyes as mine. We gotta fix this.

Reader's POV:

The three of you walk into a dark hotel room, the city lights glittering outside the windows as the New Year’s Eve fireworks pop and crack in the sky. Cam flicks on a light, and Rafe pops open a bottle of champagne, filling three flutes.

You take a breath, feeling your heart patter and your stomach flutter. The night took a turn; one moment, you were chatting and drinking with your friends, and the next, the boys whisked you away for a chat. You’d be lying if you didn’t expect to see them; after Rafe had liked a picture of you getting ready on Instagram, it was only a matter of time.

These men take what they want and don’t go down without a fight…

Rafe passes you a glass, looking down at you with a nervous smile. He hands one to Cam as well, who looks down at you with that same reflective face.

“Thanks for agreeing to come up here,” Rafe breathes, and you give him a nod before taking the champagne to your lips. “I know I keep sayin’ it, but. I’m sorry,” he says softly, his blue eyes meeting yours. “We shouldn’t have put you in that spot. You were right; all the girls were just hookups before… Nothing serious. Nothing like you,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry, too,” Cam starts next, his eyes brimming with guilt. “I lied… to him, to you. I told him I understood where he was comin’ from. I told him he had nothin’ to worry about, and I knew I was lying. I manipulated you… I shouldn’t have done that. And, I’m sorry I let on that I didn’t know her…” Rafe doesn’t say anything at first, his face hardening as he realizes the last apology was for him, not you. He blinks a few times, repeating the words in his head.

“Cam-” Rafe starts.

“When I first met her, I acted like I didn’t know her. But that wasn’t true. After you started datin’, I followed her on social media and learned more about her. I knew somethin’ like this could happen…” Cam continues, his voice trailing away with remorse. “And, I’d be lying to you if I said ‘I wasn’t hopin’ for it to happen.’ I didn’t think about what would happen beyond that… This shit. I don’t know. I was hoping it would work out. I didn’t back off when you asked me to, Rafe. I wasn’t ready. I’m sorry.”

Rafe’s expression darkens for the moment. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, choosing his battles, a mixture of sadness and betrayal in his eyes nonetheless. “So what? You thought you were just gonna come in here and break us up? What the fuck-”

“No… I don’t know what I was thinking,” Cam answers truthfully.

You sit there silent, stunned by their admittance, their utter vulnerability. They clearly had a while to cool down and think it through. But you knew you were blameless; the weight also hung heavy on your shoulders.

“I should’ve told you to leave, Cam,” you say softly. “I could have stopped it the second I knew the call earlier was you and not Rafe. You were walking out of the door, and I pulled you back in…”

“Holy shit,” Rafe mutters under his breath weakly before looking away, downing the rest of his champagne. “I was really confused. I was overwhelmed; the last thing I should have done was that. I’m so, so sorry, Rafe,” you whisper as a few tears spring from your eyes.

Rafe takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, rolling out the tension in his neck before turning around again. He walks toward you, cupping your cheeks in his big hands, lifting your gaze to his. “Don’t apologize to me,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “You told me you were worried… You told me that you loved me… I said I’d take care of you, and look how it turned out. Nothing would have happened if I just listened like I should have.”

Rafe’s eyes lift from yours, looking over his shoulder at his brother. You turn around, watching Cam take a few paces, his big arms crossed over his chest for comfort, trying his best to keep his feelings at bay.

“I can’t stay here,” Cam says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I should have told him ‘no’ ‘cause I was in too deep from the start. I should have backed off… If I had done that, the two of you would have been fine. You’re a good girl, and Rafe loves you. I should’ve respected that from the start.”

“Cam…” You breathe, your voice trembling, just knowing what’ll come next.

“I just want you both to be happy,” Cam continues, his gaze sincere but heavy as he blinks some tears away, running his eyes along the sleeve of his suit. “I know I made this harder. I’ll be fine. But I’ll always have love for you. I’ll control myself from now on. I promise you both. I swear.” Cam reaches out for you, pulling you into a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “M’sorry, sweetheart.”

Your eyes pinch shut, and you feel a sense of reserve wash over you despite the sadness. You missed what you had with Rafe but weren’t sure how to balance it all.

“Later, man,” Cam draws away before pulling Rafe into a hug. “Key card is on the nightstand, alright. I’ll see you at the house tomorrow. You two have a great night,” he smiles, speaking sweetly even though you can tell he’s just holding on by a thread.

𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚎…

𝜗𝜚 𝓒𝓪𝓶 𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝜗𝜚 𝓒𝓪𝓶 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓼

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @littlelamy @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush @bloodibambiidoll @laniirackssss @jkrafe @wtfdudesblog @alejstarkey @rafe-cameronswife @rafe-cameronswife @rafedaddy01

[whimsicalpolitical]

Smoking virgin 2 - Matty Healy

part one

in which you see Matty again after your little encounter

cw: smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, smoking, handjob, fingering

you stand in front of matty’s door, his lighter clutched tightly in your hand. it’s been burning a hole in your pocket ever since that party a few days ago. you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t overthink it, wouldn’t build it up into something bigger than it was, but here you are, heart in your throat, staring at his door like it’s some kind of threshold you can’t cross.

as soon as you knock the door swings open.

he’s there, disheveled as ever, dark curls sticking out in every direction, like he’s just rolled out of bed even though it’s nearly 3 p.m. his lips curve into this easy, familiar smirk when he sees you, like he was expecting you all along. like this is nothing.

you swallow hard, try to remember how to use your voice. “hi.”

“hi,” he echoes.

“uhm,” you start, lifting the lighter, “i didn’t know if you wanted it back.”

he raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking. “yeah, nah, keep it. thought it suited you.”

“suited me?” you repeat, frowning a little.

“dunno. just… thought it was nice.” he steps back, holding the door open wider. “you coming in?”

you hesitate, but before you can overthink it, he adds, “was just about to head out for a smoke anyway. you in?”

you bite your lip, glance down at the lighter again. then back at him. he’s still looking at you, head tilted slightly, like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.

“yeah,” you say, finally stepping over the threshold. “yeah, okay.”

he grabs his pack from the kitchen counter, and you follow him through the flat to the terrace. it’s small and cluttered, empty bottles and a battered old ashtray perched on the edge of a plastic table. the view isn’t much—just rooftops and satellite dishes stretching out beneath a cloudy london sky—but it’s quiet.

he lights his own cigarette first, the flame catching with practiced ease, and you can’t help but watch his hands. they’re quick, a little shaky, but sure of themselves. he takes a slow drag, exhales into the cold air, then holds the pack out to you.

“go on, then,” he says.

you hesitate, and he grins. “don’t tell me you forgot everything already. tragic, that.”

you take one, slide it between your lips, and light it yourself this time. your hands don’t shake, and you exhale smoothly, the smoke curling around you in the crisp air. when you glance at him, he’s watching you, something amused and maybe a little impressed tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“not bad,” he says, his voice soft.

you smirk, leaning back against the railing. “don’t need another lesson then?”

he grins, taking a drag from his own cigarette. “nah, seems like you’ve got it sorted.”

for a while, the two of you smoke in comfortable silence, the city humming faintly below. you can feel the cold creeping through your jacket, but it’s almost nice, grounding you. matty leans beside you, his shoulder just brushing yours. finally, he breaks the silence.

“how’ve you been?” he asks.

“alright,” you say, shrugging. “you know. same old.” you glance over at him. “you?”

he exhales smoke, tilting his head as he thinks. “been alright too. busy, mostly. but… yeah, alright.”

“busy’s good,” you say, and he nods, flicking ash into the tray.

“you seem good,” he says after a moment, his voice quieter now.

you glance at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way he’s looking at you. his eyes are soft, warm, like he’s seeing right through you. “i am,” you say, a little self-conscious under his gaze. “i think.”

he smiles at that, “good.”

you nod, taking another slow drag and letting the smoke curl lazily out of your mouth. you can feel him watching you again, the weight of whatever it is you’re not saying hanging in the air between you. finally, you set your cigarette down, turning to face him.

the terrace is freezing, and even with your jacket zipped up to your chin, you’re shivering. your cigarette’s burning low between your fingers, and you’re leaning on the railing, exhaling smoke in slow, deliberate streams. matty’s beside you, his shoulder brushing yours every now and then, like he’s not really paying attention to how close he’s standing.

“you alright, darling?” he asks, glancing at you as he exhales. the smoke curls around his face, softening the edges of his sharp features.

“yeah, just cold,” you say, rubbing your hands together quickly before flicking ash into the tray. “didn’t think it’d be this freezing today.”

he chuckles under his breath, tilting his head as he looks out over the rooftops. “classic london weather though.”

you huff a laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. matty notices—of course he does. he’s sharp like that, always catching the little things.

“should’ve grabbed a proper coat,” he says, nudging you gently with his elbow. “what’s that? a jacket? it’s barely doing anything.”

“thanks for pointing that out,” you say, your tone dry but playful.

he grins, flicking his cigarette over the edge of the railing.

he takes a step closer, standing just a little in front of you, like he’s trying to shield you from the worst of the wind.

“thanks,” you mutter, not really sure why you’re thanking him, but it feels right.

he shrugs, lighting another cigarette. “least i can do. you came all the way out here, didn’t you?”

you glance at him, catching the faintest smile on his lips. there’s something unspoken hanging in the air between you, something neither of you is quite ready to address yet. instead, you take another slow drag from your cigarette, letting the smoke warm your chest before exhaling.

“uh-“ you want to begin, but you don’t know where and how. you try to cover your rambling with coughing but matty already lifts his eyebrows up.

“hm?” he asks.

“i’ve been thinking about that night,” you say softly, not looking at him. “the party.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and when you glance at him, he’s watching you, “yeah?” he says.

you nod, exhaling smoke. “i don’t know. just… keeps coming back to me.”

he tilts his head, studying you for a moment. “what about it?”

you shrug, fiddling with the lighter. “just… you. me. it felt—i don’t know. different.”

he nods slowly, “yeah,” he says, his voice low. “felt that too.”

you look at him, your breath hitching slightly at the way his eyes soften when they meet yours. “so… what does that mean?”

he takes a step closer, his voice quiet but certain. “means whatever you want it to mean.”

you blink, caught off guard. “that’s not an answer.”

he smirks, just a little, but there’s no teasing in his tone when he says, “alright, then. it means i like you. means i can’t stop thinking about it, either. about you.”

your stomach flips, and you’re not sure if it’s the cold or the way he’s looking at you that’s making you shiver now. “oh.”

“yeah,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “oh.”

“so… what now?”

he stubs out his cigarette, stepping closer until he’s right in front of you, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the lighter from your hand. he flicks it open, the flame catching briefly before he closes it again.

“now,” he says, his voice low and warm, “we stop overthinkin’. we do what feels good. sound alright to you?”

his fingers brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear and he keeps his hand there- half holding your cheek.

the touch is soft, almost hesitant, but it makes your breath catch. you meet his eyes, and they’re steady, searching yours like he’s trying to figure out if this is okay.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, his voice quiet.

“it’s fine,” you say, but your voice betrays you, a little shaky from the cold—or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you.

“nah,” he says softly, leaning closer now, his face inches from yours. “can’t have that, can we?”

you’re not sure if he’s talking about the cold or something else entirely, but before you can ask, he kisses you. it’s slow at first, deliberate, his lips warm against yours. your hands find his jacket, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens, and for a moment, the cold doesn’t matter at all.

when he pulls back, his forehead presses against yours, and he’s smiling, just barely. “let’s go somewhere warmer, yeah?”

you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “okay.”

he takes your hand, his fingers lacing with yours, and leads you back inside. the flat feels warmer than before, or maybe that’s just you, your cheeks flushed as he pulls you toward the couch. he sits down, leaning back casually, his legs spread slightly.

he looks up at you, his gaze steady, and pats his lap, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “come here.”

you hesitate for half a second, but the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes it impossible to resist. you climb onto his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“better already,” he says, his voice low, his hands settling on your hips.

“yeah?” you ask, teasing, but your voice wavers slightly when his fingers brush against the bare skin at your waist, his touch light but deliberate.

“yeah,” he murmurs, leaning in. his lips trail along your jaw, before finding your mouth again. this time, the kiss is messier, more urgent, like he’s been holding back and doesn’t want to anymore.

your hands slide up into his hair, tugging slightly, and he groans softly against your mouth. his grip on your hips tightens, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

“christ,” he breathes, breaking the kiss just long enough to press his forehead against yours. “been thinking about this. about you.”

you swallow hard, your pulse racing. “yeah?”

he nods, his hands sliding up your back, steadying you. “you fucked up my brain, love, can’t think about anything else anymore.”

you can’t help but smile, your heart beating faster in your chest.

“me neither,” you admit, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. you bite your lip when you feel how hard he already is.

"fuck," matty groans, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly gliding his tongue into your mouth. you moan and grab his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot.

"wait," you gasp, pulling away, but only a little, your forehead still resting against his as you both pant for air.

"i know, i’m sorry-" he is about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"i just-“ you sigh, “this is serious for me, okay? i don’t usually sleep with random guys and-“

matty scoffs and cups your cheek, “random? darling, we have been friends for years now. and for the record, i genuinely like you and i want you, i want us to be more than friends.”

you stare into his brown eyes and look for a single trace of doubt.

“i like you,” you whisper and matty grins as he pulls you down for another searing kiss. this time, he goes slower. he savors every second, he memorizes everything he possibly can about this moment because the way you make him feel hearing those words is unlike anything he ever experienced and he doesn’t want to take a single second for granted.

"i like you, too," he says. he can feel you smile against his lips when he presses his mouth against yours again. "jesus, i liked you for a long time now," he mumbles, his hands falling to your hips, "i’d do anything for you."

your mouth latches onto his throat and you drop your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants.

his head tips back against the couch with a sigh and he squeezes his eyes shut.

your fingers dip below his waistband and when he feels your soft touch on his cock, he groans.

his eyes are still closed as you work him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spend just feeling him and not seeing him.

"i want you," you whisper in his ear, and his hips jolt as he whines against your shoulder. you want him.

“you have me,” he admits.

when he opens his eyes, he looks absolutely wrecked.

“then let me take care of you,” you whisper, getting up from his lap and spread his legs as you kneel between them.

“fuck, have at it,” he chuckles as he watches you rub your hands over the fabric of his tight, black jeans.

you slide his pants and boxers down to his ankles in one quick move, needing to see his cock free.

"i can’t tell you how much i’ve thought about this," you start, wrapping a hand around his base and causing him to groan, "touched myself to you."

you look up at him through your lashes before you dart your tongue out to kitten lick at him.

“oh fuck, you can’t just-“ he leans his head against the couch rest, lacing his hand in your hair as he exhales. you give him a few pumps, placing kisses and small licks around the head until you know he is too worked up.

he accidentally bucks his hips and his eyes flash at you, “fuck, m’sorry.”

“relax,” you giggle, “i’m alright.”

“and here i thought you were proper innocent, darling.”

“what?” you smirk, “only cause i never smoked?”

you wrap your lips around him and start to push him down your throat, his eyes rolling back shut at the feeling of your warm throat.

you can nearly feel him twitch in your mouth and it leads to boosting your confidence.

you set a purposely teasing rhythm; you move forward when he breathes in and move backwards when he breathes out. it takes him a second to realize why he is holding his breath, shaking his head at you.

“what?” he breathes out, “d’you want me to beg?”

you nod with his dick still in your mouth.

"fuck, please just" he groans as he grabs onto your hair, starting to move you himself. you don’t mind the display of dominance, it is hot that he needs you that bad. the ambivalence of his begging but still taking matters into his own hands makes you clench your thighs together.

“gets you off,” he acknowledges and hums, “don’t worry, darling.”

he sets the pace he wants, somewhere in between fast and slow. your mouth feels so full of him, he is making sure he takes up all your senses.

“oh christ,” he moans out, gripping your hair and fucking the back of your throat.

when the twitching of his dick starts to speed up he pulls you off, staring at you with lust-blown eyes.

“you’re fucking great,” he rubs his thumb over your cheekbone lovingly, “don’t want to ruin all the fun though, get up here.”

you smile and pull yourself up and when you go for settling down onto his lap again he flips you onto your back and pulls your top over your head. your hands drift to his hair and back, pulling and scratching while he finally gets rid of your bra. he instantly latches his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

“so gorgeous, love,” he mumbles against your chest.

“want you, matty,” you smile and peer down at him.

“patience,” he mumbles, “lets get this off.”

he practically rips your jeans off your body and throws them to the pile of his clothes and quickly after he gets rid of his shirt as well.

he breathes a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. his hands slide down your stomach, fingers splaying wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

you can hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dips his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that makes it hard to focus but when he slides a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpen.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, “did blowing me turn you on, or s’it just me?” he jokes.

you don’t laugh, instead you let out a whimper when he drags his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he goes.

his lips pucker and suck at your skin as he pets gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. when he pulls his hand out of your underwear, you make a frustrated little noise that makes him smile.

“needy,” he says as he pops his finger into his mouth and you watch, struggling to breathe, as his eyes flutter close and he moans.

“missed you,” he says, “missed this. when you left,” he clears his throat, “fucking had to sit in the grass with a boner and you all over my fingers. d’you know what i did then?”

you shake your head, your breath catching in your throat as you can only imagine what he did.

“i locked myself into the bathroom and wanked, rubbing my wet fingers all over my dick. felt like a teenager, you know? s’ what you did to me that night.”

“god,” you whisper before pulling him down by the back of his neck. you kiss him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. he groans when you begin to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you notice with pride that his chest is rising and falling faster than usual while he grinds himself against your thigh.

“i need you,” you whine, sliding your panties down your legs and kicking them off the couch.

matty nods but groans annoyed, “shit. condoms are in the-.”

“don’t need one.”

matty looks like he’s seen a ghost now but internally he’s trying not to come without being inside of you ever.

“sure?” he asks, “i can get one, s’ not a worry.”

you assure him with a kiss that turns into something more, your tongue looking for his and your hand drifting between your bodies, gripping him and lining himself up with you.

he holds your gaze and your fingers dig into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound is the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

“oh fuck,” he moans when his hips connect with yours.

he stays still for more than a second, giving you time to adapt to him but you’re already too far gone. you waited long enough for him.

“move,” you moan, “please.”

he does as you ask, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. your fingers dig into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. you moan softly when he begins to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he drags his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. when he sinks his teeth gently into your shoulder, he feels you clench around him and gasps.

“feels good?” he asks, but he doesn’t get an answer. your eyes rolling to the back of your head and holding him close is the answer.

you breath into each other's mouths, every word dragging out, every touch deliberate and slow.

“christ,” he groans, “you’re heaven.”

his other hand skirts around your back, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it is even possible. he flexes his hips and you groan when his tip hits a spot that has your entire body buzzing.

"right there," you whimper into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrate on the fire being stoked deep within you. every one of his thrusts is adding fuel to the flames.

"i know, love, feels so good," he whispers, tightening his grip on you. "fuck, you feel so good, i can't-"

“fuck, you’re alright,” he assures, connecting your hips every time he moves out of you but thrusts back inside.

his hand sneaks down your body and his thumb begins to rub slow circles to your clit while his hips stick to the same pace.

“matty,” you moan, repeatedly clenching around him.

“that’s it,” he groans, “can’t- come for me, darling.”

"don’t stop, matty, more," you beg. your thighs tense around his waist.

"i’m gonna-“ there are pools of tears in your eyes that matty is just now noticing. he’s about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.

"oh christ," he groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. but then he picks up speed again.

“i know, darling, come on.”

it’s all too much for you. matty looks so amazing, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his curly hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.

your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.

you come first.

your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.

matty moans and follows right after, trying to sooty you through your orgasm, “just like that, s’perfect.”

he collapses on top of you, pressing soft kisses, that you almost miss, to your neck.

“darling, you are perfect,” he whispers.

you only hum and hold him close to you.

“would you be up for staying at mine?” he asks, face coming up to nuzzle his nose against yours, “please?”

“of course,” you smile, pulling him down for another soft kiss.

“perfect,” he whispers.

after another minute he pulls out of you and lifts you up bridal style, unexpectedly.

there’s no shame with him carrying you through his flat with the both of you naked.

“how does a bath sound?” he asks.

you giggle, “amazing, only if you join me though.”

“always.”



[cigarettesaftersae]

i'll like you - 05 hurt

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: reo mikage x f!reader | contains : fluff, angst, jealousy, academic rivals, fake dating

Reo Mikage wasn’t used to rejection. With his effortless charm, a bank account that could rival small nations, and an uncanny ability to make people trust him, he rarely had to hear the word “no.” Yet, as he stood by your empty desk, staring at the spot where his carefully selected flowers and artisanal chocolates once sat, a nagging thought crept in: you’re annoying

He had invested more than just money into this. The week spent at your mother’s flower shop wasn’t merely a display of wealth; it was strategy. His polished manners and easy smiles won her over quickly, and while he didn’t expect to care much about her stories or advice, he found himself oddly enjoying her company. She even started sending him home with bundles of discounted lilies and carnations he didn’t need. The plan was working—at least until this moment.

“Why are you even visiting my mom?” Your voice cut through the ambient hum of the café. You sat across from him, dipping French fries into ketchup, your gaze as sharp as the pointed end of a thorn.

Reo watched you eat with an air of calm, as if he had all the time in the world to explain himself. “I just told you,” he said smoothly, his lips curving into a small smile. “I wanted her to like me.”

“Yeah, I heard that part. I meant why?”

He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands loosely in front of him. “Well, you said you liked me.”

Your hand froze mid-air, a fry dangling precariously between your fingers. “What do you mean?”

“You and your friends were out for lunch last month,” he said, his tone nonchalant. “I was nearby. Overheard the whole thing.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t actually like you.” The denial was immediate, almost reflexive.

“I figured.” Reo tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “You always glare at me like I’ve personally offended you.”

“Maybe you have,” you muttered, barely loud enough for him to catch.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, regardless, I’d like to propose something. I think you and I should date.”

The sheer audacity of his statement left you momentarily speechless. You stared at him, waiting for him to explain.

“Fake dating, of course,” he added casually. “To—”

“Fool your parents?” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes. “And why me, exactly?”

Reo hesitated, the confidence in his posture faltering for a split second. “I just thought you were the perfect candidate.”

You leaned back, folding your arms as you considered his words. A small part of you couldn’t ignore the potential advantages—especially when it came to Yuna. But then her voice echoed in your mind, sharp and accusing: You always lie. She was right. You’d lied so much it left your life tangled in knots you couldn’t undo.

“I can’t,” you said softly, almost to yourself.

Reo’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes flickered with something unreadable. “You probably don’t care about the money, but I know you care about Yuna.”

“You’re right,” you admitted. “And if I agree to this, all I’ll be doing is lying. Again.” You spat the last word like it tasted bitter.

“Well,” Reo said, his voice light but his gaze steady, “how do you think you’re going to fix that? She’ll push you away and call you a liar, again.” His deliberate echo of your word made you bristle.

You scoffed, masking the flicker of doubt he’d planted. “And what do you get out of this fake dating scandal?”

His demeanor shifted, just slightly. “I want to prove my parents wrong.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you and Naomi together? Seems like she’d be perfect for the job.”

“Naomi? No. But I know that’s what people think.”

“Then get with her and stay away from me.”

“But it’s just—”

“My mom ran away and I’m a bastard child, right?” you interrupted, your tone sharp and cutting. “Makes me the perfect candidate to displease your parents.”

Reo flinched. He hadn’t expected you to say it so bluntly, and for the first time, his polished facade cracked. “Your family is the symbol of the Lion”

“I know that,” you said, your tone as nonchalant as if you were commenting on the weather. You dipped another fry into ketchup, chewing thoughtfully before continuing, ���A generation of my last name made remarkable history—especially in engineering military equipment. They held better and higher leadership positions than your family ever did.”

Reo stared at you for a moment, his lavender eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to decode the puzzle in front of him. “I didn’t expect you to care about things like legacy,” he said, his voice softer now, less calculated.

“I don’t,” you replied, your gaze meeting his, unwavering. “But you do. And that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Trying to fix your image, prove you’re more than just money and privilege?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. For once, he didn’t have a quick response. Instead, he sat back in his chair, studying you like a chessboard where he couldn’t predict the next move.

“You’re interesting,” he finally said, a trace of amusement creeping back into his tone.

“And you’re predictable,” you shot back without missing a beat. The sharpness in your tone didn’t waver, but as you leaned back in your chair, a faint smile tugged at your lips—one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “But thanks for the flowers. I planted them.”

Reo straightened slightly, the words catching him off guard. “So… it’s a yes?” he asked, his voice lighter now, almost hopeful.

You sighed, dragging out the moment as if to make him sweat. “Yes,” you finally replied, the single word weighed down with resignation.

A spark of triumph lit up Reo’s face, though he masked it quickly with his usual composed demeanor. “You won’t regret it,” he said confidently, leaning forward as if sealing some unspoken deal.

“Oh, I already do,” you muttered under your breath, reaching for another fry. You didn’t bother looking at him, but you could feel his smug satisfaction radiating from across the table.

Reo Mikage was nothing if not persistent, and now, for better or worse, you’d stepped right into his carefully laid plans. The question was, who would regret it more when it all played out—you or him?

-

The next day, you found yourself sitting across from Reo in a small café near the school. It wasn’t exactly where you’d envisioned spending your lunch break, but here you were, fries in front of you and Reo’s intense lavender gaze fixed on your face.

“So,” you began, breaking the awkward silence. “How exactly do we do this... fake dating thingy?”

Reo leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes calculating. “We’ll need a plan,” he said, as if he were strategizing for a business deal rather than a relationship scam.

“Obviously,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “It’ll be too suspicious if we just got together out of nowhere, so... we need to pretend to be friends for, what, a week?”

He nodded, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the table. “A week sounds reasonable. Long enough to make it look natural, but not so long that it’s boring.”

“Boring for who? You or everyone else watching?” you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Reo smirked, unbothered by your jab. “Both, ideally. But more importantly, we’ll need to stage it right. We start hanging out casually—cafés like this, maybe studying together. Make it believable.”

You hummed in thought, poking at your fries. “So, what? People start seeing us together, and then we suddenly announce we’re dating?”

“Not suddenly,” Reo corrected, his voice patient but firm. “We let the rumors build. People will fill in the blanks themselves. By the time we ‘confirm’ it, it’ll feel like the next logical step.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Of course,” he said, flashing a charming grin. “When I commit to something, I do it right.”

You shook your head, leaning back in your chair. “Fine. But just so we’re clear—this is your idea, your plan. Don’t blame me when it all falls apart.”

Reo tilted his head, his grin softening into something almost sincere. “It won’t fall apart. Not with you involved.”

You stared at him for a moment, unsure whether he was serious or just playing you. Either way, you weren’t sure if you liked the way his words made your stomach flip.

“Alright,” you muttered, looking away. “But don’t expect me to do any cutesy stuff. No holding hands, no lovey-dovey looks, and definitely no kissing.”

“Whatever you say,” Reo said, though the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t making any promises.

And just like that, the first step of your fake relationship began—with fries, plans, and a nagging feeling that you were in for more than you’d bargained for.

“We just need to make it believable,” you said, your voice low as you stared at the untouched drink in front of you. “For... Yuna.”

Reo raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “You guys are still fighting?”

You sighed, tapping your fingers against the edge of the table. “It’s not exactly fighting. More like… avoiding each other.”

“Well, she’s a bitch,” you said bluntly, catching Reo off guard.

“What—?” he started, sitting up straighter, his expression a mix of confusion and alarm.

“She’s the reason I’m in this mess with Yuna,” you interrupted, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

Reo blinked at you, genuinely surprised. “Wait, what do you mean? Naomi? What did she do?”

You exhaled sharply, the memory still bitter. “She’s the one who started spreading rumors about me liking Nagi. She twisted things, made it sound like I was trying to one-up Yuna or something. Next thing I know, Yuna’s pissed, and everyone’s acting like I’m some backstabbing liar.”

Reo frowned, his playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Oh, please,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Just because she’s all polite and perfect in front of you doesn’t mean she’s not two-faced. She’s manipulative, and she knew exactly what she was doing.”

Reo leaned back, processing your words. “Huh,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“What?” you demanded, annoyed by his sudden quietness.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, though his expression betrayed a flicker of doubt. “It’s just… I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should stop letting your parents pick your friends,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended.

Reo gave a small, wry smile. “Fair point.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the air between you heavy with unspoken tension. Then Reo leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table.

“Alright,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “If she’s part of the reason you’re in this mess, then that’s another reason for us to make this work. If we pull this off, we’ll show Yuna—and Naomi—that they’ve got it all wrong about you.”

You nodded slowly, mulling over his words. “Right... anyways, why are you and Nagi on the soccer team?”

Reo looked at you for a moment, then smirked. “I always wanted to try it. You know, something new. And Nagi’s mad skilled at it, so I figured I’d join. Could be fun.”

"I can't believe you and Nagi are even friends," you muttered, trying to picture them together in your mind. The thought of those two, so different in every way, being besties just didn’t make sense to you. Yet, here they were, inseparable.

Reo raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. "He's your crush," he teased, his voice light but dripping with amusement.

"Stop it, no he's not," you snapped, but your annoyance only seemed to egg him on. "And he's basically the reason why Yuna is avoiding me."

Reo leaned back, a glint of something calculating in his eyes. "Even more reason to fake date me," he said with a shrug.

You frowned, rolling your eyes. "How? It'll make me seem worse. Me dating my ex-crush's new bestie? That's worse."

Reo's smirk never wavered. "We'll give them a story. You tried to get along with Nagi to get along with me."

You stared at him, the idea settling in like a bad taste in your mouth. "That's even worse, and it’s because it’s about you."

Reo chuckled, unfazed by your resistance. "Not if we make it believable. We’ll spin it so it looks like you’re just trying to fix things with Yuna. Everyone will buy it."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Yeah, because the idea of me and you suddenly being in a relationship isn’t suspicious at all."

"It’s not about us," Reo said, leaning forward, his tone turning serious for a moment. "It’s about making them think you’re moving on, making it look like you’re trying to do the right thing. You’re caught between Nagi and Yuna, and this could be your way out."

“It’s not about us,” Reo said, leaning forward, his tone turning serious for a moment. “It’s about making them think you’re moving on, making it look like you’re trying to do the right thing. You’re caught between Nagi and Yuna, and this could be your way out.”

“Just Yuna,” you said quietly, your gaze falling to the table as you tried to steady your thoughts. “I’m doing this just for Yuna.”

Reo's eyes softened for a moment, his usual smirk replaced with a more understanding look. “I get it. You’re trying to fix things with her. But if this works, it could help you, too.”

You didn’t look up, too focused on the tangled mess in your mind. “I’m not doing this for me. I just want things to go back to normal with her.” You grieve in your thoughts, the pain you caused for not just yourself but your favorite person of all, Yuna. Caught in a web of lies and mistakes, trying to figure out how to fix what you’d broken. The guilt gnawed at you, sharp and unforgiving.

You tried to push away the suffocating weight in your chest, but it lingered. The ache wasn’t just about you. It was about Yuna—how you’d failed her, how you’d let things spiral out of control. The one person who always had your back, and now she was avoiding you. No matter how much you tried to pretend it didn’t hurt, the truth was clear: you had broken something irreplaceable.

Reo's voice broke through your thoughts, softer now, a little less teasing. “Look, if you keep doing things for everyone else, you’re going to lose yourself in the process. Maybe you should let this help you, too. You deserve to have things work out for you, not just for Yuna.”

His words hung in the air, and you didn’t know how to respond. “I don’t need your pity and concern, Mikage.”

“Well, you got it anyways,” Reo replied, his voice steady, unbothered. "And since we’re in this relationship... I’ll buy you lunch every day, and you have to come to Friday dinners with me and my parents."

"Woah, woah—wait, every Friday?" You blinked at him, feeling your mind race a little at the thought.

"Yep, every Friday," Reo said, unfazed. "I’m doing this to convince my parents. If they see us together regularly, they’ll think things are... solid. Plus, you need to get used to my family if we're doing this, right?"

You frowned, running your fingers over the edge of your cup, considering the offer. “fine” you groan

.

.

.

[wild-magic-oops]

[shoulder] kiss for the Davrin/Rook prompt list?

(from @guillotinethechantry)

[ shoulder ] a tender kiss on the partner's shoulder (not so much tender as it's seductive oops). Here's the prompts list if anyone wants to send me more promts.

Davrin x Shadow Dragon mage m!Rook, set after the events of the game

"Davrin, amatus, you've been writing for an hour now. Surely by now you've finished proving the author-" Rook waved a hand towards the book on the coffee table in front of him, "wrong about the best way to deal with ghastlings."

The book wasn't even meant to be informative, much less a bestiary. It was a thinly veiled erotica, but Rook couldn't tell that personally because the extremely incorrect, according to Davrin, information at the beginning had gotten his lover so heated in all the wrong ways that they never got to the juicy parts. He should've never listened to Bellara and Neve when they recommended this to him. 'It has hunter/prey play.' they said. 'You and Davrin of all people would like it.' they said. 'It would be a nice surprise for Davrin.' they said. Yeah, right... But it was all on Rook, thinking a plan can go smoothly for once. When did anything ever go smoothly for him?

Davrin's quill was yet to still. And Rook decided that enough was enough. It was time for a more hands-on approach.

Rook stepped closer to the desk, his hands resting on Davrin's shoulders from behind. He'd give them a squeeze, but that would impede Davrin's writing. And Rook simply wanted attention, not to ruin his lover's work.

"Davrin." he tried one last time.

"In a minute, Rook," Davrin replied distractedly.

Alright then. Time to appeal to Davrin's body if his mind was too busy prioritizing other things.

Rook slowly pulled Davrin's shirt back, the deep v-neck of it making the task very easy, not to mention baring quite a bit of skin around the neck and shoulders as a result. Rook traced his fingers tentatively along Davrin's spine. The quill slowed. But it wasn't enough.

Rook lowered his head, his breath ghosting over the shoulder before his lips pressed firmly but gently on the warm skin. Another kiss placed just a fraction more towards the neck, longer and more insistent. Then he pulled away to survey the reaction. The quill had completely stopped, as had Davrin, Rook noticed with satisfaction. He knew he had won already, but he could be patient occasionally.

A few beats later, Davrin tilted his head to the right, just a fraction, but it couldn't have been more noticeable. Rook grinned in triumph and leaned forward again, placing kisses along the offered neck until he reached the ear and bit lightly on the ridge as a punishment for being ignored so long. It did not feel like a punishment for Davrin though.

The chair screeched as it was pushed away from the desk. Back on track with the plan!

[fisheito]

is oli gonna be a maid bouncer. like. customers are gonna try to get handsy with the maidboys and dante's first reaction is to snap someone's wrist in twain rei becomes an unpredictable liability bc he could do SO many things. he could not care. he could escalate the inappropriate touching for personal gain. he could poison their drink (with higher chances of fatality than usual)

so oli needs to be the mediator of all making sure customers don't act out of line and that staff don't kill someone . all he has to do is wield a menu like his holy book and everyone will behave

[the-boy-meets-evil]

building blocks | yjh

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

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

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

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

(tag list at the end)

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

Except…

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bestie boo: i didn’t pay for it

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

“You should watch where you’re going.” 

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

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

“No,” he answers easily. 

“So…” you start. 

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

“You made an impression,” you say neutrally.

“A positive one?” he presses.

“I didn’t say that,” you counter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure sounds like it,” Seungkwan quips. 

“Fuck off, I do,” you double down. 

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

“Does it matter?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s with the look?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” he retorts quickly.

“You’re making a face,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he muses. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can see why,” you deadpan. 

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

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

“Perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not for 20 more minutes,” he counters. 

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

“Hm,” he says.

“What, Jeonghan?” you ask with exasperation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m asking?” he offers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t figure you out,” you admit. 

“I know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow, that was nice,” you retort.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t like him, Kwan,” you sigh.

“Sure,” he says dismissively. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, of course not,” you concede. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll survive,” you deadpan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan says dismissively.

“I might hate him,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“Van Gogh,” you answer immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know…” you start.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s Jeonghan?” Vernon asks.

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

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

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

“Wait, again?” Vernon asks.

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

“I need new friends,” you grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you watching me?” you challenge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfect! Thank you!” Seungkwan rushes out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go,” he says a minute later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not a psycho,” you snort. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not the time, Chan,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You may be onto something,” you agree.

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

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

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

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

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

“I was worried about you,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you agree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You met Joshua?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The class will end eventually,” you say. 

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

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

“Deal,” he agrees. 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, uh, sure,” he says.

“We don’t have to,” you say quickly.

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

“Sure,” you say curiously.

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” he says after a moment. 

“You can tell me if…” you start.

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

“Just since then?” you tease.

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So come,” you direct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watch?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow,” is all Jeonghan says. 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose I deserved that,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, Seungkwan, right?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

“Chill, Kwan, I’m fine,” you answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be a weirdo,” you retort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, hello Jeonghan,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

“Do I…want to ask?” he finally asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[meazalykov]

mother who stepped up

stepmom!lena oberdorf x mom!reader

summary: lena accepts you, and the mini-you

warnings: one mention of death, nothing too impactful to the story though. very long fic

you’ve never been one for surprises. your life, at least recently, has been built on carefully crafted routines, ensuring that your two-year-old daughter, macy, is comfortable and happy. 

dating? it was something you thought would come much later—if at all. after coming to terms with your sexuality, you didn’t want to date unti you were reassured that you’d be with the right woman for your daughter. 

here you are, sitting across from lena oberdorf, a suggestion from your well-meaning friends, and even though you like her, there’s something you or your mutual friends haven’t told her yet.

everything had been going smoothly with lena from the start. she was charming, funny, flirtatious, and made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time.

you didn’t think you could get used to someone so effortlessly, but somehow, lena just fit into your life—except for that one secret you hadn’t yet shared.

you’re sitting across from lena at a cozy café, sipping your coffee and listening to her talk about her game against wolfsburg– a club she played many years ago. 

it’s easy to get lost in the sound of lena’s voice, the way her eyes light up when she talks about football. you nod along, smiling as she recounts a funny moment from practice. 

for a while, everything feels perfect—simple, like your lives are in sync. in the back of your mind, you know you will have to tell her about macy. the little mini-you that is currently coloring in her daycare class across munich.

the conversation shifts to lighter topics, and you pull out your phone to check a notification. 

you sit your phone flat on the table and as you’re about to lock the screen, lena leans in, catching a glimpse of the photo that displays on both your home and lock screen. 

your heart skips a beat when you realize what she’s seeing—macy, her chubby little cheeks, dimples, and wild curls staring back at you from the lock screen. 

lena’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity flickering across her face.

“aweee who’s that?” she asks, her tone casual but with a hint of intrigue.

you freeze for a second, unsure how to respond. 

here we go, you think, heart pounding. swallowing hard, you try to brush it off with a light chuckle. 

“oh, that’s little macy.”

lena tilts her head, staring at the screen for a moment longer before locking eyes with you. 

“macy?” she echoes. “is she… your niece or something? she looks just like you.” she smiles, clearly finding the resemblance cute.

you force a small smile, feeling your throat tighten. this is it—the moment you’ve been dreading. 

“uh, no… she’s not my niece.”

“oh,” lena says, looking at you, then back at the picture. 

“then, what, a cousin? a friend’s kid?”

you can see her mind working, trying to make sense of it. your fingers tighten around the edge of your phone, and you finally decide to rip the band-aid off.

“she’s my daughter….”

lena’s eyes widen, her gaze darting back to the screen, then to you. her lips part in surprise, but she doesn’t say anything right away. she stares at the lock screen as if seeing it for the first time, really seeing it.

“your daughter?” she repeats softly, almost like she’s processing the words.

you nod, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. 

“yeah. she’s turning two in a few months. macy’s my little girl.”

for a long moment, lena just looks at the photo, her expression unreadable. you watch as her gaze flickers between the image of macy and you, comparing the two of you. 

“she… she looks just like you,” lena murmurs, her voice almost in awe. 

“i thought she was you for a second, like, as a baby.”

you let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension knotting in your stomach. 

“yeah, she’s basically my mini-me. she’s got my nose and everything.”

lena doesn’t seem to hear your attempt at humor. instead, her brow furrows deeper as she studies the photo. 

“wait, she’s… really your daughter? like, you have a kid?”

you bite your lip, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. 

“yeah, she’s mine. i know i should’ve told you sooner, but…” you trail off, not knowing how to explain the complexity of it all.

“but why didn’t you?” lena asks, her tone still soft, but there’s something raw in her voice—an undercurrent of emotion that you can’t quite place.

you glance down at your coffee, swirling it absentmindedly. “i didn’t know how,” you admit. 

“i didn’t want to scare you off. most people aren’t exactly thrilled about dating someone with a kid.”

lena leans back in her chair, processing what you’ve said. “you thought i’d be scared off because you’re a mom?”

you shrug, feeling a little defensive but mostly scared. “it’s happened before,” you say quietly. 

“people hear ‘single mom,’ and they run for the hills. i just… didn’t want that to happen again.”

lena is quiet for a moment, her eyes still on the picture of macy. she seems to be absorbing everything, and you can’t help but hold your breath, waiting for her to say something—anything.

“is the father around?” lena says her thoughts out loud. 

“oh no no no. um– he didn’t want anything to do with macy. he also passed away shortly after mae turned one. her father and i were never together or even had feelings for eachother– it was just um..” you trail.

“i’m very sorry about that.” lena says, looking up at you before looking back to the photo of your little daughter. 

“oh no don’t apologize.” you say.

there's a pause for a few minutes. its clear that you wanted to switch the topic away from macy’s biological father, who wanted nothing to do with her before his passing anyways. 

lena looks up at you, giving your phone back with her expression softening. 

“you’d thought i’d run?” lena asks, a small, incredulous smile playing on her lips. 

“because of this? because of her?”

you shrug again, not trusting yourself to speak. all your worst fears are bubbling to the surface, and you can’t shake the feeling that this might be the moment it all falls apart.

lena reaches across the table, taking your hand gently in hers. 

“y/n, she’s beautiful,” she says, her voice sincere. “i mean, she really is a little version of you.”

you blink, the words not sinking in right away. “you… you’re not mad?” you ask, your voice trembling just slightly.

lena shakes her head, squeezing your hand. “no, i’m not mad. i just… wish you’d told me sooner. i know we’ve only been official for a week but–” she pauses, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“i get why you didn’t, but… i’m not going anywhere. i like you. and now that i know about macy… i like her too. even if we haven’t met yet.”

the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming, and you feel your eyes welling up. you’ve been bracing yourself for rejection, for lena to tell you this was too much for her. 

though here she is, sitting across from you, holding your hand, and telling you that she’s not going anywhere.

“you’re really okay with this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“more than okay,” lena says, her voice firm but kind. 

“you’re a mom. that’s a part of who you are, and that’s okay with me.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart finally starting to settle. 

“thank you,” you whisper, blinking back the tears. “you don’t know how much that means to me coming from you.”

lena smiles, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting go. “so, when do i get to meet this little mini-you?” she asks with a teasing grin.

you chuckle softly, wiping at the corner of your eye. “soon. i just… didn’t want to spring her on you right away.”

“well, now that i know about her,” lena says, leaning back with a playful smirk, “i feel like i’m the one being kept a secret from macy.”

you laugh, the tension between you finally breaking. “i guess we’ll have to fix that soon.”

lena grins, taking another sip of her coffee. “i’m looking forward to it.”

the next day– lena doesn’t text much. you know that she is busy training at bayern but anxiety consumes you. 

your thoughts spiral. maybe she changed her mind and realized that it was too much for her. maybe she’s having second thoughts. 

by mid-afternoon, you’re glued to your phone while macy is with her aunt (your sister), checking for any sign from her. 

nothing comes, and your heart sinks.

as you’re picking macy up from your sisters, your phone finally buzzes. lena’s name flashes across the screen, and you almost drop your keys in your hurry to check it.

lena: hey, can we talk later? i’ve been thinking a lot.

you stare at the message, panic clawing at your chest. thinking doesn’t sound good. you force yourself to respond.

you: sure. what time?

the reply is almost instant. 

lena: i can come over tonight?

you hesitate. having her over… that means she’ll meet macy, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for that yet. you also know you can’t keep her at arm’s length forever. you type back quickly.

you: yes, come at 7.

you spend the rest of the afternoon trying not to overthink it. 

as soon as macy is fed and bathed, your nerves start creeping back. you’re pacing the living room, glancing at the clock, when the doorbell rings.

macy, sitting on the couch with her stuffed miffy bunny and fluffy blanket, perks up. 

“mama, door!”

you smile, ruffling her hair. 

“stay here, baby,” you say softly, walking to the door. 

you open it, and there she is—lena, standing on your doorstep wearing a black outfit along with a grey beanie, looking as unsure as you feel.

“hey,” she says, giving you a small smile.

“hey,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in. you’re about to close the door when macy toddles over, clutching her miffy bunny in her small hands. lena’s eyes immediately land on her, and she smiles.

“this must be macy,” lena says, her tone soft and warm.

you nod, watching as macy stares up at lena with her wide (reader’s color) eyes. 

“yeah, this is her.”

lena crouches down to macy’s level, holding out her hand. “hey, macy. i’m lena.”

macy looks at you for reassurance before shyly reaching out to shake lena’s hand. 

“miffy bunny,” she says, showing off her stuffed toy.

lena chuckles softly. “that’s a cool bunny.”

you watch the exchange, your heart swelling with something you hadn’t expected. lena looks so natural with macy, and it’s a sight you weren’t prepared for. 

you clear your throat, trying to shake off the wave of emotion.

“so, um, you said you wanted to talk?” you ask, motioning for lena to follow you to the couch.

she nods, standing up and giving macy one last smile before sitting beside you. macy toddles back to the couch, climbing up and sitting between your legs, still clutching her bunny as her small arms hug your waist.

“yeah,” lena says, glancing between you and macy. “i’ve been thinking a lot since last night.”

you nod slowly, waiting for the bomb to drop.

“i know this is a lot,” she continues, her voice gentle but steady. 

“and i understand if you’re worried about how i’ll fit into your life, into macy’s life, but… i want to try.”

you blink, taken aback. “you do?”

lena nods, reaching out to gently take your hand. 

“yeah. i mean, i didn’t expect this either, but i really like you, y/n. and if macy’s a part of your life, then i want to be a part of that too.”

you sit back, still reeling from the way the conversation unfolded. the tension that had knotted up your stomach starts to loosen, but you can’t help feeling the need to set some boundaries—just to be sure lena knows what this really means. 

it’s too early in the relationship to assume anything, and you don’t want to put any pressure on her, especially when it comes to macy.

taking a deep breath, you meet lena’s eyes. 

“i just want to be clear about something,” you say softly. 

“i don’t expect anything from you when it comes to macy. you’re not obligated to her, and i’d never force any duties on you. it’s still really early in our relationship, and i don’t want you to feel like you have to step into a role you’re not ready for. if you just want to date me, that’s okay. i mean it. however i just want you to understand that in a case between you vs. macy– i’ll always choose macy.”

lena watches you closely, her brow furrowing slightly as she listens. she leans forward, resting her arms on the table, and shakes her head gently. 

“y/n, you don’t have to put up walls.”

you bite your lip, feeling the weight of her gaze. “i’m not putting up walls,” you explain quietly. 

“i just… i want to be fair. macy’s is the biggest part of my life, but she’s my responsibility, not yours. i don’t want you to feel like you have to take on so much at once. i don’t want you to feel trapped.”

lena sits back in her chair, exhaling slowly. her eyes soften as she takes in your words. 

“first of all, macy isn’t a trap,” she says firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. 

“she’s your daughter. i don’t see that as something to run from.”

your heart stumbles at her words, but you try to stay grounded. “but it’s still a lot for you,” you press gently. 

“being with me means being with macy too, and that’s a lot to ask of anyone. especially this soon.”

lena reaches across the table again, her hand finding yours, warm and steady. “i get what you’re saying,” she begins, her voice calm but sincere. 

“and i appreciate that you don’t want to rush things or put pressure on me. but, y/n, macy is a part of you. she’s part of your life, and if i want to be with you, that means i’m choosing to include her too.”

she squeezes your hand, her eyes locked on yours. “i’m not saying i’m trying to be her mom right away, or that i know how all of this is supposed to work. but i want to figure it out. because macy is important to you, and that makes her important to me.”

your heart swells, and you can feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes again. you hadn’t expected this, not so soon, and certainly not with such certainty in her voice. 

it’s like lena had already made the decision in her heart before you even started this conversation.

you blink back the tears, swallowing hard as you nod. “i… i didn’t know if you’d feel that way.”

“of course i do,” lena says softly, her thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. 

“i’m not scared off by you being a mom, y/n. it doesn’t make me want this any less.” 

you take a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the depth of her words. “i’ve never had anyone say that to me before,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper. 

“it’s always been the reason people walk away.”

lena’s eyes soften even more, and she moves her chair closer to you, her hand never leaving yours. “well, i’m not them,” she says simply, her voice steady and sure. “i’m here. and i’m not going anywhere.”

the emotions well up in you, and for a moment, you’re speechless. you look down at your joined hands, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. she’s serious. she’s really serious.

“thank you,” you finally whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “thank you for… for staying.”

lena smiles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

macy, oblivious to the weight of the conversation, leans against your arm, yawning as she starts to doze off. 

you glance down at her, then back at lena, your heart full in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

from that moment on, things between you and lena shift. she starts coming over more, spending time not just with you but with macy too. 

at first, macy is a little shy around her, but lena is patient, never pushing too hard, just gently easing her way into your daughter’s life. it doesn’t take long before macy is running to the door to greet lena with a grin, her little arms reaching up for a hug.

the first time macy calls her "obi”,  your heart skips a beat. it's a simple moment—you're all sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by toys, when macy tugs on lena's sleeve, her big eyes looking up at her expectantly.

"obi, play?" she asks, holding out a mermaid barbie.

lena grins, taking the truck from macy. "of course liebe."

watching them together, you can't help but smile. it’s becoming clearer each day—lena’s not just here for you. 

she’s here for macy too. sometimes you joke that she is only here for macy.

as the years goes by, lena becomes more and more involved in your life. she starts joining you for bedtime routines, helping with bath time, reading macy her favorite stories as she grows older. 

after lena, macy, and you move into an apartment together— lena is for the tantrums, the messy dinners, the sleepless nights. sometimes, she will take the initiative so you can rest. the more time she spends with macy, the more it feels like she belongs in your little family.

three years after the important conversation, your life with lena feels like a dream. 

macy is five now, full of energy and curiosity, and lena has been there for all of it—every scraped knee, every preschool recital, every bedtime story. your home is filled with laughter and warmth, the life you never imagined you’d have when you were raising macy on your own. 

now, as you sit together on the couch, macy fast asleep in her room, lena leans into you, her fingers tracing patterns on your hand. she’s quiet, more thoughtful than usual, and you can sense something’s on her mind. she glances at the engagement ring on your finger, the same ring you’ve been admiring for months now, and then turns to you with a serious expression.

“i was thinking,” lena says quietly, her voice soft in the dim light.

“about what?” you ask, turning to look at her.

she hesitates for a moment, her hand pausing on your arm. “about macy. and… about us.”

your heart skips a beat, but you keep your voice steady. “what about us?”

“i know it’s still early but…” she says, her voice careful, 

you blink, processing her words. “but…?”

she takes a deep breath. “once we get married i’ll be macy’s stepmom. something i’ve been thinking about for a while. however i don’t want to wait until then. i want to be a mom to macy. if you’ll let me.”

the weight of her words settles over you, and for a moment, you’re speechless. you’d always hoped, deep down, that lena would want to be a part of macy’s life, but hearing her say it out loud—it feels overwhelming in the best possible way.

“i know i’m not her biological mom, and i’ll never try to replace that, but… i love her, y/n. i love both of you. and if you’re ready for that, i’d like to be her mom too.”

the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over, and you reach up to cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. “we’d love that, obi.” you whisper. “we’d love that.” you repeat in awe.

when macy starts calling her “mama lena,” after she turns six– your heart nearly bursts with love.

macy is seven now, and the bond between her and lena has only grown stronger over the years. she clings to lena in a way that sometimes surprises you—like she’s always seeking her approval or comfort. 

it’s been that way ever since lena officially adopted her after turning thirty-one, and you and lena got married. 

you remember that day so vividly, the moment the judge declared that lena was now macy’s legal mother. the joy on lena’s face, the way macy had leaped into her arms, calling her “mama” with such pure excitement, filled your heart with pride and love.

it wasn’t long after when lena got the call—an offer from chelsea. it was a huge opportunity, one that meant she’d be competing in the women’s super league. after a lot of late-night talks and some serious decision-making, lena accepted the offer, which meant the three of you were moving to london. 

the change was exciting, something fresh and new for all of you. macy was thrilled at the idea of living in a new city, and as for you, the thought of starting a new chapter together made you incredibly happy.

in london, lena is the person macy runs to for almost everything. scraped knees, homework help, even just to ask if she can have a snack—lena is her go-to. most days, it fills you with happiness to see them so close, to know that macy has someone who loves her so much. 

sometimes, like today, you can’t help but feel a little sting.

you’d been in the middle of getting macy ready for school. she was in a hurry as usual, fidgeting in her seat while you knelt to help her tie her shoes. 

before you could finish, she pulled her foot away, laughing. “no, no, mama lena does it better!” she giggled, her bright smile lighting up her face.

you laughed too, even though the words pricked at your heart. “oh, really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“guess i’ll need to practice, huh?”

macy just grinned, her curls bouncing as she wiggled her toes. “yeah, you should! don’t worry, you’re still good at other stuff!”

you smiled, ruffling her hair. “well, i’m glad i’m still useful for something.”

she giggled again, completely unaware of how her innocent words had stirred something in you. 

you shoved the feeling aside quickly, focusing instead on making her laugh as you pretended to dramatically fumble with her shoes. her laughter filled the room, her curls tumbling down her back as she leaned forward in her chair, watching you with bright eyes. 

it wasn’t until you were dropping her off at school that the feeling crept back in, like a quiet ache in the pit of your stomach.

it wasn’t that you were jealous—at least, you didn’t think you were. you loved that macy and lena were so close. you’d always hoped that one day macy would have a strong bond with lena, and seeing it unfold so naturally had been like a dream come true. 

still, moments like this made you wonder if you were slowly being edged out, if macy was starting to see lena as the “cool” mom while you were just… the other one that happened to look like her.

you tried not to dwell on it too much. lena had been nothing but supportive, always making sure you knew how important you were to both of them. and really, you were happy. 

lena had embraced being a mother to macy in every way—going to parent-teacher conferences, staying up late to help with school projects, even helping macy with her football in-between training at chelsea. 

that was another thing: football.

macy had recently started showing a serious interest in the sport, much to lena’s delight. she idolized her mama, always asking about drills and tactics, begging to go to practice with her. 

one afternoon, after watching one of lena’s games, macy had turned to you both, her eyes wide with excitement. 

“i want to play football too!” she’d said, bouncing on her toes.

lena’s face had lit up with pride. “you do, huh? well, we can definitely make that happen.”

since then, lena had been working on getting macy into training, talking to coaches and setting up practice sessions in your backyard. you’d watch them sometimes, lena patiently teaching macy how to pass the ball, how to position herself. 

the way macy looked up at lena, so full of admiration, always made you smile. you were thrilled that your daughter had someone like lena to look up to, someone who could teach her the things you never could.

and yet, in the quieter moments, when macy would run to lena after a long day, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of sadness. it wasn’t that macy didn’t love you—she did, of course.

there was something different about the way she clung to lena, like lena was her whole world. you couldn’t blame her. lena was a natural with her, always knowing just the right thing to say or do to make macy feel safe and loved.

you’d catch yourself watching them sometimes, a soft smile on your face as you listened to their conversations, the easy way they communicated without needing to say much. you’d hide your feelings behind a joke, like the time macy had joked about lena being better at making breakfast, and you’d playfully said, “well, guess i’ll just stick to making the coffee then.” macy had laughed, and you’d felt the sting lessen, pushing it to the back of your mind.

around this time, you and lena had started talking more seriously about having another child. 

this time, you would carry, using lena’s egg along with a donor. you’d been through a few consultations, and after what felt like a whirlwind of planning and waiting, the IVF procedure was finally successful. 

you were pregnant with another little girl.

the joy that filled your heart was indescribable. the idea of adding to your family, of giving macy a sibling, was something you’d dreamed about for so long. and now, with the news confirmed, it was time to tell macy. 

you weren’t sure how she’d react—she’d always been so used to being the only one, the center of attention. but you were hopeful that she’d be excited.

one evening, you and lena sat macy down, her favorite blanket draped over her lap as she snuggled on the couch between you. lena’s arm was around your shoulders, her hand resting gently on your belly, already slightly swollen with the new life growing inside.

“munchkin,” lena said softly, looking at macy with a warm smile. “we have some big news for you.”

macy looked up, her curiosity piqued.

“what is it?”

you took a deep breath, smiling as you leaned forward a little. “you’re going to be a big sister, sweetheart.”

macy’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she just stared at you, her mind clearly racing to process what you’d said. 

“a big sister?” she repeated, her voice uncertain.

“that’s right,” lena added, squeezing your shoulder gently. “there’s a baby in here.” she gestured to your belly. “a little sister for you.”

macy’s face scrunched up, her expression a mix of confusion and hesitation. “but… i like being the only one,” she admitted, her voice small.

you shared a glance with lena, both of you understanding her hesitation. “we know, sweetheart,” you said gently. 

“and you’ll always be our first, our special girl. but having a sister means you’ll have someone to play with, someone who’ll look up to you, someone who’ll need your help.”

macy was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about what you’d said. her little fingers twisted in the edge of her blanket, her brow furrowed as she processed the news. you could tell she wasn’t sure how to feel.

“and you’ll still get to do everything you love,” lena added. “football, school, everything. this just means there will be more love in the house. and maybe, when she’s old enough, you can teach her some football moves.”

macy’s eyes brightened a little at that, the idea of teaching someone something she loved appealing to her. “i get to teach her football?”

you smiled, nodding. “absolutely. you’re going to be the best big sister ever.”

slowly, macy’s frown faded, replaced by a tentative smile. “okay,” she said, her voice soft but a little more certain. 

“i’ll be the best big sister ever. but only if i get to teach her football.”

lena laughed, pulling macy into a tight hug. “deal.”

and just like that, your family took another step forward, your heart full of love as you prepared for the next chapter in your lives—together.

masterlist

[jymwahuwu]

anon who got beaten by covid coming through with more Capitano thoughts.. (no thirsts..yet. I need to coach myself with scenario building..Capitano talks you through every climax. There. That is the most I can write 😭)

Capitano tried to be patient, he truly tried. But he only sighs softly when communication cannot work but force must.

He is a very broad man and it's quite easy for you to spot his looming shadow over you when you had fallen onto the ground, having tried to escape the cabin with only the moonlight as your guide.

"S- Sir.." You look up, tears welled up in your eyes as you try your best to calm your racing heart. You've seen how he has dealt with..most unsavory soldiers. What will he do to you? A lone soldier who has deserted their post?

The man doesn't say anything for a moment, the darkness of his helmet staring holes into you.

"Have I done wrong with you?" He finally speaks, crouching down to speak with you. Despite him trying to match your height..it only makes it more threatening. "I don't believe.. I've mistreated you?"

He's genuinely confused, he can't..register the fact that he's feared by a soldier that he has treated so gently and nicely. "I apologize if I have harmed you.." He tried to make amends anyways.

But then you go and ruin it by trying to run..tsk, tsk, and of course, he only needs to grab your wrist and you're completely immobile. You are a deserted soldier..and unfortunately it seems like you must treat you as the soldier you are.

Even if he wishes you were more than just a soldier.

Bingo. All he has to do is make your punishment..become his bride. He doesn't like phrasing it as a punishment but..perhaps a training session would be better?

You're still training..just..training to be his wife. (Also training to take his very impressive size that he always sighs as he coaxes you into taking every inch of..)

cw: dub-con, forced marriage, yandere, size kink, female reader

Thank you for sending me a story, I really enjoyed it😽💖 You posted it in two parts, and I replied to both here!! (part 1 of the story is here)

Like gentle giant and skittish darling trope! Frightened, awkward you.

Be informed that you have been chosen as a warrior, and that you have given it your all…but, maybe you don't have the talent here. The combat movements are a bit clunky and don't flow smoothly. The vision tied around your waist shines with the light of the elements, but your skills… (such as flowing out a small amount of water, like a spring spring, or just condensing some cheap gems, or electricity like a kitten claws, etc…). Those skills are just not suitable for fighting, you know? Will you use gentleness against Heavenly Principles, against enemies?

After training, failure and frustration have overwhelmed you, and the physical pain and exhaustion cannot be ignored. Not to mention that Capitano in his cape looks down at you like an unshakable mountain. You rubbed your cheek against his palm and couldn't help biting your lip, shedding tears like a little kitten. He pats your head gently and tells you how to improve your movements and use elemental powers. Easier said than done. You nodded, but there was still no way to improve next time.

He's not biased, really. In Capitano's eyes, everyone can fight, but you… may be able to put your talents in other areas, such as cooking and knitting. Your elements are just as gentle as yours. Maybe you can keep that water and food warm. His confession to you is formal and prepared. He asks you in serious terms if you can marry him and spend the rest of your life together.

You… look terrified, hyperventilating from shock. "Me-me?" You pointed at yourself, shaking. Captain wants to marry you? That first of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? He was just joking, right? You refused and distanced yourself from him like he was a flood.

I like drama🫣😹 so I added some wind and snow. On a moonlit night, you planned an escape, only to fall on the snow and almost be washed away and submerged by the wind and snow. Looking back, I saw that familiar huge figure walking out of the falling snow. He grabbed your wrist a little too roughly, "Sir- Sir?" As always, you looked at him with tears, but fear gnawed at your heart even more.

"You might be dead." There was ice in his voice. He knelt down on one leg and looked down at you. "What are you doing? Did I… hurt you? If you feel that way, then I apologize."

"I-I'm sorry!" You cried, even the tears froze. You know he's right. He is worried about your safety. How is he going to treat you? Will he put you in jail? Capitano carries you in his arms and takes you back to his home. It's there to restore your body temperature and keep you warm. He immerses you in the warm water and towels you off.

If you don't plan an escape, you can still enjoy your options. Since you ran away… you can't return to Fatui, but as his wife stay with him and receive training. Starting from looking directly at his mask, you panicked, but now you can't. You have to look directly into his dark blue eyes, from the depths of your soul. A huge cock stood erect in the middle of his pubic hair and was leaking pre-cum. You stammered, placing your hands on his heated belly as you looked directly at the impressive size of his cock for the first time, "W-What is this? How does this work…!? Can you- can you be a little smaller…"

That's why you need to be trained to accommodate his size. Capitano knew it was unlikely to work the first time. His cock swells against your belly and rubs against your clit, or pushes deeper into you, opening up the tight folds of flesh. The pounding of pulses sends pleasure through your limbs, into your brain as flesh slaps and pops, until the warm cream spurts and rushes into you.

There will be another training next time.

[naburi]

GRAVEYARD SHIFT

CHAEYOUNG X READER

THEMES: ROUGH SEX, DOGGY, CREAMPIE

2K WORDS

Beep beep* the sound of the scanner echos to the whole store. Cold breeze enters the store as the customer opens the door on their way out. It’s 2 am and you’re working with Chaeyoung, a small petite girl who’s always in a bad mood.

You've been working in this convenient store for about three months now. It’s a small 24 hour store near your area. Your cheerful personality made it easy for you to get close with your coworkers besides with one person. You were a regular customer in this store before, that’s why you’re somehow familiar with the employees' faces before joining their company.

For the first few weeks, you have been only delegated to the opening shift which starts at 7 am. This wasn’t a problem to you as you’re an early bird. Your early tenure with the company was going smoothly until you were assigned to the graveyard shift.

Your coworkers warned you about the employee who only works on graveyard shift. They said she’s not part of the rotating shift as she requested to only work on midnights. She doesn’t have the most pleasing personality and often yells at a customer for their dumb actions. They call her “baby beast” due to her young age and hot temper. Despite her shenanigans, she’s been the longest tenured employee with her work ethic.

First night, you’re walking towards the store to clock in with your first graveyard shift. You’re confident you can tame the “baby beast” with your personality. As you’re getting close the entrance door, you saw a short curly haired young lady in the counter. You were in awe to find someone they call a beast have this pretty of a have. You tried to fix your hair and clothes slightly as you felt anxious talking to your pretty coworker for the first time. You finally enter the store and immediately introduced yourself. She look at you dead in the eye, didn’t even bother to look introduced herself back, “I know, we’re wearing the same uniform. Now go in the back and restock some items.” She said in monotone. You were in disbelief how rude this girl is and just go in the store room to do what she said. You’re annoyed while doing your work, you already made up your mind you don’t like this person and want to make her pay off her unruly behavior.

You’re already plotting how you get revenge on her until you hear a loud voice coming in the store. It’s not supposed to be audible in the storage room but due to how loud she is, you can hear clearly how she’s yelling at a customer due to them having a large bill all while only buying a few items. You were ready to storm back in the store until you met her gaze. She’s giving you a death stare as if she’s also mad at you. Still in shock of her behavior you just went through the night doing your work without bothering her.

Second night, you notice that there’s no one in the counter area and you're already hoping that she won’t go to work tonight. You’re going into the storage room to lay down your stuff until you see the beast reaching down to stack some snacks on the lower shelf. Her tight pants are hugging her thin legs and tight ass. Her tight top uniform highlighted her petite frame. You realized this is the first time you noticed her body. You noticed this view made your tool erected. She finally acknowledged your presence and looked at you from your feet to your head with annoyance all over her face like your existence bothered her so much. “What do you want?” She yelled. You don’t know what to say but you saw her eyes go back to your bulge. “Nothing! Don’t mind me!,” you said as you rushed in the back room embarrassed.

Third night, you’re both at the counter serving beers to customers who are already drunk and just drink more. You notice how small her hand is compared to the cold bottle she’s serving.

Fourth night, you found her stocking some drinks in the refrigerator, the light coming in the fridge bounced on her glowing face making her look ethereal. You hate how you get attracted to her.

Fifth night, she just yelled again at a customer by asking her some dumb questions. There is not a day where she wouldn’t yell at some random person. But always notice how quiet she gets after the altercation, maybe she’s feeling guilty after what happened.

Sixth night, she’s roaming the selves while you’re at the counter. Her tight ass sways as she walks, like a small clock in a hypnotic rhythm, you can’t help but look at her ass. She noticed how you can’t keep your eyes off her and for some miracle you notice her chuckle for a bit.

Seventh night, you request to work everyday as you badly need some money. You expect to be alone for tonight as it’s supposed to be her off day. It’s pouring rain and you saw a silhouette running down the entrance. It’s the baby beast, you didn’t bother to ask why she goes to work today and just assumed she has the same reason as you. “You didn’t even bother to open the door for me!? You already saw me running!” She yelled. She’s soaking wet, it doesn’t seem like she’s carrying an umbrella to protect her from this heavy rain. It’s been a few minutes now and she is still not coming out of the back room. You got curious and checked on her, you saw the bathroom door open. You saw Chaeyoung on the backside, she’s only wearing a white bra while her uniform is on her hand, twisting it trying to get the water out of it. Her wet pants revealed the form of her underwear.

You heard her say that she doesn’t have extra clothes to wear. She’s planning to work with her wet uniform on. Which you didn’t allow, you worry she would get sick if she tried to and you reason out there will be no customer due to how heavy the rain is. She was annoyed by what you said but she eventually agreed with you. You offer her a white t-shirt that is definitely bigger than her size. “Don’t cum in this short after I wear it” she said in a mocking tone. “What?!” You’re embarrassed by what she said as you realize that she noticed how hard you try to keep your eyes off of her but failed miserably. You go back to the counter as she changes her clothes. Chaeyoung realized that she can't wear her under garments because they got wet as well.

Chaeyoung feels uncomfortable only wearing a shirt while she’s sitting in the chairs in the storage room. It’s 2 am and the baby beast can’t find anything to do. She can’t work due to her only wearing a shirt, and she can't go back home with how hard the rain still is. You heard the beast called you for the first time not in an angry tone. You wonder what it would be, you saw her sitting in the corner with her arms on the makeshift table while her legs crossed. The big shirt can’t contain her perky nipples poking through it and the end of the shirt barely covering her private area. You

stood there awkwardly. Chaeyoung herself didn’t know why she called you as well, but she knows she wants something.

The baby beast stood up as well, now infront of you. She’s barely in your chest level due to your height differences. “Kiss me” she said shyly. You can’t believe what you just heard. “Kiss me, damn it” she yelled at you. Your body moves on its own like it knows what to do. You started kissing her sloppy which she returned more hungrily. Your hands move although her body before you push her in the wall beside you. You started to caress her small boobs over her shirt while still making out. It hasn't been long before you put your hands inside the shirt, uplifting it to expose her perky nipples. One of your hands reaches her womanhood which is already soaked in wet, your other hand finds one of her boobs groping her and findling with her nipples.

Your make out session gets interrupted by her soft moaning. Something clicks in your head, remembering how rude she is to you, remembering how you want to get revenge on her. You made the baby beast to lean on one of the boxes now facing her back towards you. This gives you a better angle to fondle her boobs and rub her clit. You start to get more aggressive on how you grope her small boobs, you can feel your hand sinking on it due to how aggressive you are. You started to give her neck kisses from the back as her moans keep getting louder while you move your hand now playing with her nipples.

One of your hands moves back to her pussy now glistening in wet. You keep trying to put a finger in while your other hand pulls down your pants to reveal your hard throbbing cock. Baby beast realized what you're about to do and tried to say no because you're not wearing any protection. You put your tip touching her wet entrance. She felt how big your head is compared to her small tight entrance. And tried to reason out to you that she can’t take it. But you brush it off and instead push it inside as quickly as possible. You let out a surprising moan, this is the tightest pussy you ever felt. And you made it your goal to make this pussy mold in your cock perfectly.

You started to pound her slowly, she’s already moaning loudly due to her not accustomed to your size. She tried to move around but you hold her hair to keep her hair in place while your other hand is holding her small waist. Her tight ass bouncing off you every time you pound her. Her moans turn into cries as you pick up the pace. The beast that’s always rude to you is now at the mercy of your cock. This turns you on even more, you hold her waist with your two hands to pound her even harder. Her cries now become inaudible begging. Which didn’t help her because this signals you to fuck her even more.

You pound her faster, you pound her faster, you keep changing the rhythm which satisfies her even more. She doesn't want to admit it but she gets turned on by how your eyes always wander on her body. She always noticed the bud on your pants from the second night. She has a hot temper but you made her feel a different type of hot. Now she moans for you to go even deeper to fuck her till her pussy molds into your cocks. She wants you to fuck her till she can’t take it anymore.

She even spread her pussy with both of her hands for you to get a deeper access. This made you more feral and bend her in the small table, you push her body to lay down on top of it while her ass hanging, waiting for you to fuck her again. The table cracking every time you pound her which both of you didn’t mind as you're too into it to even care this goes on for a few more hours, you have cum inside her for three times but you still can’t get enough of this baby beast. Chaeyoung is also at her limits, feeling her pussy soar while you still fucking her. Her throat was getting dry with all the loud moans she made. It’s now 5 am, the rain stops and you hear some people walking in the store. You put your hands to cover her mouth, you worry about the customers hearing her moans but not worry enough to stop pounding her, Chaeyoung looks back at you signaling to go out there. You also know you need to go now thus pounding her faster for the last time this morning to cum again before going back to work again.

You closed the door in the back room going back to the counter leaving a tired Chaeyoung sitting on the floor with your cum flowing out of her.

[please1mistress]

WARNING Flashing IMAGE and HYPNOTIC COVERT language

Inductions

Hypnosis, a fascinating and complex phenomenon, has captivated human interest for centuries. It's a state of focused attention, heightened suggestibility, and vivid fantasies. People often think of hypnosis as a deep sleep or unconsciousness, but in reality, it's more about a trance-like state where the individual is actually in heightened awareness of suggestion. Often used for therapeutic purposes, hypnosis can aid in various issues such as stress, anxiety, pain management, and certain habits like smoking. However, it's not a magical cure-all; its effectiveness varies from person to person.

Hypnosis can also be a form of entertainment, where stage hypnotists perform shows that demonstrate the power of suggestion. Despite its many applications, hypnosis remains a subject of debate among scientists and psychologists. Some view it as a powerful tool for mental health, while others caution against its potential to create false memories or its use in recovering memories, which is a controversial area within the field. It's important to approach hypnosis with a critical mind and understand that it's a complex interplay of psychological and physiological factors. If you're considering hypnotherapy, it's crucial to seek out a qualified and certified professional to ensure a safe and beneficial experience, someone like me.

You find yourself reading these words and as you read they seem to take on a life of their own, almost like magic. Your mind slows as you red larger more complex words and you may feel a soft tingle of arousal as you FOCUS on my words and feel dreamy. It's quite fascinating how the complexity of words can influence our cognitive processes. When we encounter larger, more intricate words, our brains need to work harder to decode the meaning, which can sometimes slow down your reading speed. This isn't necessarily a bad thing; it allows for deeper processing and understanding of the messages I am pushing softly into your mind. It's easy to relax and follow the words you read. It's easy to feel dreamy as your mind accepts that it wants to drop deeper.

Dropping deeper feels good, as you touch yourself and keep reading you can let go of any inhibitions or control. it's so easy to sink into a light trance, after all entering a light trance can be a simple, yet profound experience. It's a state where the conscious mind takes a step back, allowing the subconscious to surface and express itself more freely. This can happen during various activities that engage the mind in a repetitive, rhythmic manner, such as listening to music, meditating, or even during a long drive. In this state, people often find their thoughts flowing more smoothly, their creativity heightened, and their stress levels reduced. It's a moment of introspection and connection with the inner self that can provide clarity and insight. While in a light trance, the mind filters information differently, prioritizing internal dialogue and sensation, which can lead to a deeper understanding of one's thoughts and feelings. It's a natural and accessible state that can offer a respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life, and a gateway to greater self-awareness.

You are not even aware of how deeply into the trance you are, your fingers stroking your arousal for me as you read and feel a dreamy warmth spreading from your fingers into your whole body. Aware but unaware that you could stop at anytime, but you don't want that, you want to keep reading and sinking deeper and deeper as you feel arousal growing more for me. It just feels so good to give in, the very act of giving, whether it's time, resources, or kindness, has a profound impact on your well-being. It transcends the material value of what is given and touches the very essence of human connection. When you give, you're not just passing on a physical item or a piece of advice; you're sharing a part of yourselves, creating a bond that reflects your shared humanity. This act of generosity can be deeply satisfying, as it often brings joy and relief to others, which in turn enriches your own life. It's a beautiful cycle of positivity that reinforces the best parts of being a good submissive.

Giving has been shown to activate regions in our brain associated with pleasure, social connection, and trust, creating a warm glow effect. It's no wonder that the phrase "it's better to give than to receive" has resonated through the ages. This isn't just a moral suggestion; it's backed by science. Studies have found that giving to others can increase our happiness more than spending money on ourselves. This might be because when we give, we feel a sense of purpose and meaning, knowing that we've made a positive impact on someone else's life.

Moreover, the act of giving doesn't have to be grandiose to be effective. Small acts of kindness can ripple outwards and have unforeseen positive consequences. Just as a pebble creates waves when thrown into a pond, a simple gesture of generosity can spread far and wide. It's the intention behind the act that matters most, the recognition that even the smallest offering can make a significant difference.

In a world that often emphasizes individual achievement and accumulation of wealth, it's important to remember the value of generosity. It's a reminder that our interconnectedness is a source of strength, not weakness. By giving, we acknowledge that we are part of a larger community, one that thrives when its members support each other. It's a powerful acknowledgment that we are not alone in our journey through life, and that by helping others, we are also helping ourselves.

So, when we say it feels good to give in, it's not just about the act of giving up or surrendering; it's about embracing the joy of generosity. It's a celebration of the human spirit and its capacity for compassion and empathy. Giving is an affirmation that, despite the challenges we face, there is goodness in the world, and we have the power to contribute to it, one act of kindness at a time. It's a simple truth that enriches our lives and the lives of those around us, creating a legacy of goodwill that can endure beyond our own existence. Indeed, to give is to receive a gift of immeasurable value—the happiness and satisfaction that come from knowing we've played a part in making the world a little brighter.

You want to give in more deeply, message me and tell me how much you need deeper brainwashing NOW!

[smolkooks]

incoming call... (part ii) - kenji sato

a/n: roughly 2k more words of kenji sato fluff! sequel to 'incoming call...' link to part i

ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

“ouch!”

you snickered, “ken, i told you not to get too close! she doesn’t like strangers,” you leant down to scratch the little kitten’s cheeks, and because she knew you and you were undoubtedly her best friend, she purred in contentment, all the while giving kenji sato an irritated glare.

the nickname—ken—slipped off your tongue smoothly, the same way you’d been saying it for the past few months that you’d been spending around your highschool sweetheart. even though you’d been apart for so many years and hadn’t seen each other for so long, it had been easy to slip back into an old rhythm.

“fuck, i didn’t know she’d actually bite me, she looks so tiny,” he hissed, shaking his reddened finger.

“size means nothing when it comes to animals,” you retorted, and despite the way you rolled your eyes, you still handed him an ice pack from your freezer, “take this, big baby.”

he huffed but took it anyway, pressing it to his injury.

it had become a bit of a routine—after his games, he’d come over to your clinic to visit you while you handled the late-night clean ups. the rest of the vet team headed home at closing, but with no kids or family to care for, you often spent your evenings here, keeping the animals company and handling some of the extra paper work. 

“how’s emi doing, by the way?” you said as you refilled some of the water bowls. most of the animals were sleeping at this time, but you still liked to make sure they were all fed and watered. in fact, it was better to do it while they were asleep—less whinging from the little babies for treats.

“she’s doing well,” he said, and it was his turn to roll his eyes as he leant against the bench, “attitude and all, as always.”

“she’s a teenage girl,” you said with a laugh, “it’s so normal. i was one, so i can affirm.”

“mhm,” he said, eyes gleaming, “i remember.”

it was weird, toeing this line with kenji sato. so long ago, you’d been each other’s universes and after separating to go to university, the two of you had been sucked into different orbits—him going into baseball in the states, and you pursuing veterinary medicine in australia. it almost felt like fate nudging you, having the two of you run into each other—back in japan all these years later.

saving you from responding, his phone rang at that very moment. being around kenji all these weeks had gotten you used to his late night calls—how he’d have to run off to take care of the city. but this call seemed to come from one of his teammates, with the familiar way he addressed the person on the other side of the line.

he’d told you that at first he didn’t have any friends here, too busy to do anything but work. but now, he’d grown close to plenty of his teammates and of course, he had you.

“yeah well, i’m kinda busy right now actually...why?” you overheard him say as you busied yourself with some clean up and tried not to look like you were eavesdropping, “oh...oh! yeah uh—what?! what the...” his change in tone piqued your interest.

“...right, thanks for telling me, i’ll call you back later, yuta. thanks...” he hung up, and turned sharply to you, meeting your awaiting gaze, “the press caught you, uh, getting into my car.”

you frowned, confused at the problem with that, considering it wasn’t at all illegal for kenji to have friends.

“they’re blowing it up,” he said, running a hand through his hair and messing it up again, “i...i don’t mind, but i don’t want it to hurt you, that’s all.”

you waved his concerns off, “it’s whatever, to me. as long as it doesn’t harm your reputation, i don’t really have a public image to maintain. my patients don’t care who i date or don’t date.”

date? you felt flustered the moment those words left your lips. even though the two of you had been getting closer again and flirting and doing things that one would do while dating, neither of you had clarified the boundary yet.

kenji seemed equally as flustered and didn’t address what you’d said, not wanting to embarrass you, “you’re right,” he smiled crookedly, and you returned one back despite your racing heart.

***

the moment you stepped into your mum’s house, you were bombarded.

“what’s this about you dating kenji again!” she exclaimed, shutting the door behind you and ushering you into your childhood living room, “i haven’t seen that boy in decades. and since when were you—,”

“what, mum?” you cut her off sharply, even as she shoved you into a chair and poured you hot tea, sitting down opposite you eagerly, “i’m not dating him? plus, where’d you even—,”

she shoved the article in your face before you could even finish the question, her phone screen so bright that it took your eyes a second to adjust. “mum, your phone’s so bright, it can’t be good for your eyes.”

“not important, y/n,” she snapped hurriedly, “look at it.”

blinking your eyes to focus, you finally saw the image clearly. it really did look like you were dating. the window of kenji’s porsche was wound down, and you were leant over towards him, pressed so close to him in a way you didn’t remember doing, even though you knew that you’d only been reaching over to grab the gum from his glovebox. the way he was looking at you, though—you hadn’t noticed in the moment. it was really full of adoration, eyes glittering with a love you remembered so clearly from your highschool days, and his arm was reached out around you in a way you also hadn’t noticed before.

“explain,” your mum demanded, although she didn’t seem annoyed, she seemed...quite excited, the way her eyes were suspiciously bright, “i miss seeing that lovely boy around.”

embarrassed, especially as your eyes scanned over the headline—baseball star kenji sato’s new sweetheart?!—you stuttered, “uh, i ran into him a few weeks ago and we’ve been hanging out, you know, at the clinic.”

“well, then, what are you doing in his car?” she rushed, waving her phone around again, “doesn’t look like the clinic to me. and look—,” she scrolled down a bit further to another picture, this one even more incriminating.

it was you, tucked in the audience of one of kenji’s baseball games, dressed in his team colours, cheering amongst the other vip guests sitting amongst you—friends and family of the players.

“well—,”

“i’m not hearing it,” she cut you off, a grin breaking out, “you’re bringing him over! i can’t believe it—my daughter and kenji, reunited,” she sighed happily, “i was worried you would never settle down, you know.”

flustered, you didn’t even bother to object, sagging in your seat at her insistence.

***

“y/n, i’m really sorry, i didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he said hurriedly as he followed you up the stairs to your apartment, “i’m really sorry. i’m trying to get them to take it down but you know how—,”

you whirled around as you shut the door to your apartment after letting him in, “my mum wants to see you.”

“huh?”

you sighed, switching on the lights and throwing yourself onto your couch, “she saw the article and couldn’t stop going on about how i was finally settling down and how she needed to see you again.”

he ran a hand through his hair, “you...don’t mind?”

“kenji,” you sat up straight, beckoning him over, “i don’t mind. and i wouldn’t mind...”

the silence was loud, the only sound in the room the quiet humming of your lights and the traffic outside, as he sat down beside you, sinking into the cushions.

you knew you didn’t have to finish your sentence. kenji sato knew you too well. he met your eyes and pulled you close, hugging you to his chest. you breathed in his scent—clean, and a little tinted with fish. you’d found out that he often had to go fishing—diving, more like—for emi’s dinners, and that was why he was so often around your apartment block...to fish in the river like a weirdo.

“y/n...”

you hummed, waiting for him to continue as you pressed your face into his chest.

“i really meant it when i said i missed you, back when we first saw each other again,” he began, and you smiled into his skin, “i was so lonely. drained, and it was like fate—seeing you that day saved me, i swear. you were all i could think about. i couldn’t...i couldn’t imagine never seeing you again.”

“kenji,” you murmured, leaning back to look at him earnestly, “i missed you, too.”

“what i’m trying to say is,” he swallowed, looking down before looking up to meet your gaze again, “i...i wanna date you, y/n. if you’ll have me,” suddenly shy, he flushed a bit at his own words.

you smiled at how sweet it was, how shy he seemed and also how your stomach fluttered with butterflies, “ken, of course i’ll have you. you’re all i want.”

you’d barely finished your sentence when his lips met yours in a gentle, soft kiss. you couldn’t really put it into words, how it felt to kiss kenji again after all these years. it felt like coming home. it felt like taking all the colours of the sunset and smearing it across a canvas. it felt like drinking warm milk tea. you hummed into the kiss as he deepened it, pulling you closer by the nape of your neck, and you reached up to tangle your hands in his dark locks, pulling him down towards you at the same time.

you were so close to him you could feel his heartbeat—almost hear it, and you hoped he couldn’t hear how quickly yours was racing. he tasted of caramel, and you couldn’t help but sigh as his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as you broke apart from the kiss, curling into him in a hug.

“y/n,” he murmured, keeping his arms wrapped around you, “i really, really missed you.”

you’d missed him too. his little habits, his dishevelled hair—fish smell, and all. you’d missed him more than anything.

finally, you’d come home.

[kpop---scenarios]

Whispers of the Night (2)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: Vampire! AU, College! AU

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Warnings: Language, etc [This is an 18+ ONLY story. Will contain smut in future chapters.]

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Thank you again to @skzdust for helping me with this chapter!! It would not have been completed without you!!

Part One |

Taglist: @steddie-steddie

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat

@pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13

@stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez

@stayatinykatsy @catlove83 @jeonginstulip @kaleigh-2002

@honeycombbaybee @hyuneyeon @flylis @kpop-choco

@chloe-elise-2000

“Okay… okaaaay.” You slur, stopping dead in your tracks, outside what you can only assume is a beautiful house but you're so drunk your head is spinning, your eyes are squinting and you can't focus. “I need to know.” You mumble, holding up one finger to Chan.

You can see him trying to not crack a smile at your obvious drunkenness.

“What do you need to know?” He asks, cocking his beautiful head to the side.

“First…off.” You hiccup. “How come all of you look like pale Greek gods?” You whine. “Second of all, why did you help me? With… asshat back there?” You almost incoherently mumble. It takes Chan and Jeongin a second to understand what you just said, and before he can answer you're swaying, your eyes are closed and you're pretty close to being passed out. Chan motions for Jeongin, who comes and throws you over his shoulder to bring you inside.

“... we helped you, because you needed us to help you.” Chan whispers from behind a chuckling Jeongin. They bring you into the house, Jeongin laying you down onto the couch gently, covering you with a blanket as 6 other men emerge from other parts of the house.

“There's a human in our house.” Seungmin mumbles.

“Correction, she's our human.” Hyunjin smiles, admiring your peaceful looking face.

“I really don't think this is going to go as smoothly as you all think it will.” Minho murmurs. “It's not going to be that easy.”

“No, it won't. But whatever happens, we're there for her.” Chan announces. “It's not like we have anything but time. She'll come around eventually once we tell her everything.”

“You think she will? Even when we tell her we've been waiting for her for over a century?” Seungmin scoffs. “She's going to run for the fucking hills.”

“Do you want her to run? Or do you want her to be here with us?” Han asks. “Cause I personally want her to be here.”

“Of course I want her here.” Seungmin begins. “But I just know how this is going to play out. Not to mention, that stupid fucking boyfriend of hers, you think he's gonna let her go that easily?”

“I wouldn't worry about him.” Jeongin laughs. “I can't see her going back to him.”

“I don't know man, humans and their emotions… They crave familiarity, comfort and shit. She's not done with him. Not yet. She will be though. But it has to be her decision.” Minho pipes up.

The 8 men stand around your sleeping frame, wondering how in the world you were going to be okay with them and what they were.

You let out a big yawn, stretching your arms as you try to remember last night's events as you slowly wake up. You roll over onto your side, hearing the faint sound of a TV in the background, that's weird, you didn't have a TV in your room. And you were sure you didn't end up back at your apartment after that shit with Mark. You need to open your eyes but to be completely honest, you're a little scared too. You open one eye, seeing an unfamiliar living room. You look around with one eye, before feeling like you weren't alone. You dart up on the couch you were sleeping on, seeing the handsome men from earlier in the week. They were all scattered on the couch, trying to not be obvious at looking at you but most of them were failing.

“Um.” You begin, your voice is hoarse.

“Don't panic.” Chan smiles, getting onto the floor, in front of you. “You got into it pretty bad with your ex last night. You were really drunk, we brought you back here to keep you safe.” He explains. Flashes of your fight with Mark pop into your head. You nod, it made sense.

“I had nowhere to go.” You whisper.

“Yes that's right.” Chan agrees.

“So you brought me home… like an abandoned puppy.” You murmur.

“You could say that.” One smiles.

“Seungmin.” Chan snaps.

“You all know me.” You say, looking around the room. “But I don't know you.”

“Let's change that. I'm Chan, that's Hyunjin.” He says, pointing to the man he was with when he caught you. “Seungmin.” The man who pulled you back from getting hit. “Jeongin.” You knew from your class. “Felix.” The man in the bathroom. “Han and Minho.” The ones you ran into, literally. “And finally, Changbin.” he says, pointing to the last man.

“The one who made me a terrible coffee.” You say. Everyone erupts in laughter.

“Hey! I'm still learning! I also may have given you decaf.” He pouts.

“You've worked at coffee shops for years, you've never improved.” Hyunjin laughs.

“Well.” You say clearing your throat. “This has been informative… Thank you for last night. I really appreciate it, but I think I should be going home.”

“You're going back to him?” Jeongin asks.

“I don't…um, I mean yeah?” You whisper. “He's my boyfriend.”

“He cheated on you.” Jeongin reminds you.

“Relationships take work… You know? Ups and downs and shit. I shouldn't be talking about this with strangers. Fuck. I should be talking to him.” You mumble. “I need to go.” You whisper.

“Already?” Han asks, pouting slightly.

“He'll um… be wondering where I am.” You say. You look around the room and they all look disappointed in your decision to leave. While you appreciated the help, your relationship was in the trenches and being in a house alone with 8 hot as fuck men, wasnt doing anyone any favors.

“Guys, relax. We'll see you around campus. And if you need help… or a place to stay, let any of us know.” Chan smiles. “Minho can take you home.”

“Oh no, that's okay, really, I don't know how far I am from my place and I don't want to inconvenience anyone. You've done so much already. ”

“I'll take you. Let's go.” Minho says, grabbing keys from his pocket, heading towards the front door. You quickly get up and follow him, turning around to see the 7 men still sitting there watching you leave, almost like they were pleading with their eyes for you to stay.

But as it turned out you were only 5 blocks from your apartment and you got there too quickly. You weren't ready to face Mark and you had no idea what this morning was going to bring.

The second you opened the door, Mark was there, tears stains left on his cheeks, down on his knees as he cried, begging and pleading for you to give him another chance. There was something about seeing a grown man on his knees, crying and begging after being caught that just felt…right.

“Get up.” You scoff. “That's so embarrassing for you.” You murmur, walking around him and into the apartment.

You were raging. Seeing him made it all that much worse, especially down on the floor, and honestly made you question how in love with him you were… if you even were still.

“Y/n.” He begins, scrambling from his knees. “Please forgive me. Please, I'm begging you, I'm so sorry about everything. My attitude, the cheating, everything. Every single thing I've done in the last little while.” He huffs. Part of it feels genuine, but part of it feels almost forced, like there's an ulterior motive for his apology. “Please don't leave me. Please. I love you so much. I can't lose you!” He whines.

“You didn't love me that much when you had that girl in our bed, did you?” You laugh.

“It was a mistake! A stupid, stupid mistake. I love you and I'll change… for you!” He pleads.

No.

You loved him.

Don't.

You did love him.

Don't do it.

You loved him once.

Your inner voice was screaming at you to turn around and walk away, literally sleep on the street if you needed to but don't stay with him.

“Mark…” you pause. “This is out. I'm all out of fucks to give. You fuck it up this time and I'm fucking done.” You murmur.

Where the fuck was your backbone?

“Thank you baby, thank you. You won't regret it!” He smiles, wiping away his tears, wrapping his arms around you.

You knew you would regret it, but whether that was in an hour, a day or a year was yet to be seen.

“Good morning, beautiful.” You hear from beside you. You glance over to see Hyunjin standing there, a small smile on his face as he waits for the light with you.

“Good morning.” You murmur, your stomach fluttering and your heart racing. You could feel the redness creeping across your face. The walk signal begins flashing, Hyunjin reaches over, grabbing your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Seungmin told me about the first time you met.” He whispers. “Don't worry, I'll keep you safe.” He finishes, pulling you along the cross walk with him. Mark never did things like this, if you were walking with him, he'd be laughing and joking about the time you almost got hit by a car.

You're so flustered you can't respond to him. All you could focus on was the jolt of electricity that was flowing through your body, only that you'd never experienced before with anyone else. Once you're safely across the street, Hyunjin lets go of your hand, giving you a big grin, before taking off in the opposite direction of you.

You walk towards your class, glancing around the campus, when your eyes lock with Chan. He's leaning against a pillar, flipping through a notebook, and you almost start drooling. You watch him as you keep walking, the smile on his face never faltering as you walk past. He smiles at you, giving you a little wave before sneaking in a wink that makes your red face continue.

You got to class a little earlier than last time, praying there was more of a seat selection than there was last time. You open the door, it was almost empty. You smile walking in, picking a seat in the middle so you weren't too close but also not too far away. You unpack your backpack, setting up your desk when you hear the door open. Your head shoots up, seeing Jeongin walking in. Your heart starts racing as he sees you, flashing a gorgeous smile towards you. He walks up, sitting beside you again and this time you don't mind, but Jeongin sitting next to you made for a tough class. He couldn't not touch you. He had to have either his leg touching yours, or his arm touching yours, making you feel the jolts of electricity, just like you had felt with Hyunjin earlier in the morning.

Jeongin left class abruptly, while you took your time gathering your things. You weren't sure how many more interactions you could handle today. You walked out of the classroom, where you see one of Mark's best friends, San standing off to the side, twiddling his fingers. You watched him spot you, he takes a deep breath before he starts walking towards you. Suddenly his eyes go wide, he turns around and walks away from you. You're confused for a moment until you feel someone beside you.

“How was class?” Felix asks, a sultry smile on his face.

“I'm not sure.” You sigh, you barely remember a single sentence your professor said. Jeongin's cool body and the feeling of him beside you was extremely distracting.

“Jeongin?” He laughs.

“How'd you know?” You ask.

“It's the pull.” He murmurs. you wanted to ask him what that meant but he continued. “Ah, look at the time.” He laughs. “I have class. See you later.” He yells, rushing off.

You really didn't want to go to your last class but you did and when it was done you went home to collapse in bed. It was only Monday and Mark had sent you a text that he was out with the boys. So you knew you wouldn't see him for at least four days, if not more, that's if he was really with them. You didn't trust him, you didn't know if he was with them or the girl but you couldn't ask him. If you even joked a little about it he got so upset. That was a red flag and you knew it was, but you couldn't bring yourself to actually leave him because trust could regrow… right?

The next morning it was quiet. As you waited at the light, there was no one waiting there with you. As you walked through the campus for your early morning class you were alone and it felt weird. You walked to the coffee shop, desperately needing caffeine before your day truly started. You walked into the coffee shop, seeing Changbin behind the counter. You were going to keep it simple for him today, you did wonder how he kept his job if he couldn't make any coffee correctly.

“Hey, you.” He smiles. “What can I get you?”

“Can I get an iced latte… caramel.” You smile.

“Of course!” He says, turning around to make your drink. You didn't have much faith in him but you were hoping for the best.

“Hey baby.” You hear from behind you. Your heart sinks. You turn around, seeing Mark standing there with San, who was avoiding eye contact.

“Mark? What are you doing here?” You ask.

“I have class, too.” He says, walking towards you.

“One beautiful latte, for a beautiful girl.” Changbin announces, sliding a hot drink towards you with a smile, until he sees Mark. His smile drops, glaring at the man standing with you.

“Why are you calling my girlfriend beautiful?” Mark asks. He looks between you and Changbin. “Are you fucking the coffee man?” He scoffs.

“Oh fuck off, Mark. I'm not the fucking cheater here.” You spit, rolling your eyes. “Thanks, Changbin.” You say. He can see the sadness in your face and he can hear it in your voice. He watches you walk away, your mood completely ruined.

“Stay away from her.” Mark snaps at Changbin, who just smiles.

“Why? Are you scared she's going to leave you?” Changbin asks. “Because I'll let you in on a little secret.” He whispers, leaning closer to Mark. “She will leave you, because you fucking suck.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mark scoffs. “She'll never leave me. Give me a coffee.” He demands.

“Sorry, all out of coffee for douchebags.” Changbin laughs. “Next!”

You just went through the motions of the day, your mind replaying the entire interaction from the morning over and over again. How could Mark think that you were cheating on him? You had never given him the slightest reason to doubt you. He was insecure. You knew that but he'd never accused you before, so why now? You shuffled through campus, ready to go home and hoped Mark wouldn't be there.

“Why so glum?” You hear from beside you. You look over and see Seungmin, shuffling his feet with you. “Is it about the whole thing this morning?” He asks.

You stopped in your tracks, looking at Seungmin. “How did you hear about that?”

“Changbin.” Seungmin says, shrugs his shoulders.

“You're all a bunch of gossips, aren't you?” You ask, glaring at him, making him laugh.

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Sometimes.”

You keep walking, Seungmin continues to walk with you. “You shouldn't trust Mark, you know.” He mentions.

“Yeah, well he hasn't earned that back, not even close.” You mumble.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” He says. You turn to say something but he's gone. It feels like he was never even there. You go home to your empty apartment, thankful for the quiet you get that evening.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

The next morning, you head to class, and all throughout the day you have no interactions with any of the men that have mysteriously come into your life. When you walked out of your last class, you're met with pouring rain. The sky was almost black, the wind slowly picking up. It made the knots in your stomach worse. All day you'd felt like something was wrong but you couldn't put your finger on it. You step out from under the shelter, deciding to brave the rain and walk home. You'd only make it a few steps before your arm is yanked. You turn around, seeing San, soaking wet, breathing heavily.

“What are you doing?” You yell.

“I have to tell you something!” He says back. “Mark…” He pauses.

“Is he okay?” You ask, worried for a second that something happened to him.

“He's fine but y/n… you need to know. He never stopped seeing Chae. He's still fucking around on you with her.” San admits.

You drop your hand to your side, it feels like your throat is beginning to close.

How could you have been so stupid to think that Mark was serious enough to stop cheating? Of course he was. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes as you sniffle. You're ready to collapse to the ground, hoping the earth would swallow you up and make you disappear.

“I'm sorry y/n… I really am.” San says, awkwardly putting his arm around you. You stand there, partially embraced by San as your head just spins 100 miles a minute. He says something to you that you don't really hear before walking away from you.

You feel your knees get weak, you're going to drop but before you can, you feel an arm tightly wrap around your shoulders, keeping you up right.

“I got you.” The voice murmurs. You look over to see Minho beside you, Han grabbing onto your other side, both men guiding you to Minho's car. They were both completely unbothered by the rain, whereas you were shivering like you were in the middle of a Canadian winter.

Minho opens the back passenger side door for you, letting you slide in before he rushes towards the driver's side and Han gets into the front. Minho starts the car and blasting the heat in the back pointing all the heaters towards you. You could feel the tears coming on but you didn't want to cry. Mark wasn't worth it to cry. He showed you who he was, all throughout the last 2 years and you just took it, you put up with it and gave him chance after chance. So now that he's fucked up again, it shouldn't hurt anymore. But it did, and you didn't know how to make it stop hurting.

Minho watched the road intensely for the short drive to the house. Neither of them spoke, thankfully. You couldn't do it right now. You were thankful he wasn't taking you back to your apartment because honestly, how do you tell someone you just met for the third time, that you can't go home because your boyfriend cheated on you, just like he did the second time you met. You felt so fucking stupid. The car pulls into the semi familiar driveway, turning off and the three of you sit there in silence. Not once did either ask you what was wrong, what happened or why you were so upset, but at the same time it was almost like they knew.

Of course they knew, they probably would have been able to spot what was going to happen next from a mile away.

“Do you want to sit in here or go inside?” Minho asks, breaking the silence. They both glanced back at you.

You weren't sure. You should probably go in, but you felt it to be a little strange. Going back into their house a few days later. You could just feel the “I told you so.” From Jeongin already.

You should have listened to the strangers. Before you can answer his question, the front door swings open, a pissed off looking Hyunjin stomps out onto the front porch. You watch as he and Chan argue, both of them looking like they were going to rip each other's throats out. For some reason, you felt compelled to get out of the car, like you needed to get in-between the two of them, so that's what you did. You left the car door open as you rushed up the steps, moving between the two fuming men.

“What the hell, you guys?” You snap.

Both their faces immediately soften as they look at you and your red, puffy face.

“Us? Why are you back? What happened?” Chan asks, grabbing onto your arm. His hand was like ice, it sent a chill down your spine.

“She just about collapsed in the rain.” Minho pipes up, closing your door for you. “We don't know why.” He murmurs, looking between Chan and Hyunjin.

“Come on, let's get you inside.” Chan murmurs, guiding you in. “We'll finish this later.” He says to Hyunjin, who follows closely behind you.

An hour, some hot coffee not made by Changbin, warm towels and blankets and some laughs later, you're dry with 8 men sitting around you, all of them desperate to ask you what happened but all of them waiting until you're ready to tell them.

“I guess you wanna know what happened?” You ask.

“Who? Us? Nah, if you're not ready.” Han smiles.

“Yeah actually, that's what we've all been waiting for. Spill it, L/N.” Seungmin says.

“One of Mark's friends… he uh, he told me Mark is still cheating on me.” You murmur.

“Are you surprised?” Minho asks. He seemed genuinely curious.

“I mean a little? He begged me like a little bitch to not leave him..” you mumble.

“I'm so glad I didn't serve him coffee.” Changbun murmurs under his breath.

“I'm sorry y/n.” Chan says. “What's your plan now?”

“Plan? I don't have a plan to be honest. I don't know what to do.” You sigh.

“You can stay here until you decide what you want to do.” Jeongin smiles.

“Yeah, as long as you need.” Hyunjin agrees.

“I have nothing. None of my stuff. Ugh. I can go back for a few days. When he hangs out with his friends he's gone for days at a time.” You mention.

“Well here, take my number, call me when he comes back and we'll come over and help you get your stuff out.” Chan says, putting his hand out for your phone. You give it to him, just in time for Han to mention something fun.

“You can come to the party!” Han smiles.

“Party?” You ask.

“Yeah, we're having a party on Saturday.” Felix confirms.

“A party sounds fun.” You say. “A good distraction.” And that's just what you needed. Was a night away from real life, something to take your mind off of the issues in your life.

But nothing ever works out quite the way you hope it will, does it?

[martinmuhl]

⋆✧˚ ༘ rivals? (part 2)

pair: kate martin x reader

warnings: SMUT !! minors DNI!

summary: you and kate had been rivals since high school and kate’s finally had enough

authors note: the long awaited part 2! i’ve never written smut before so i did my best lol don’t be too hard on me!! hope you enjoy :)

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

a few weeks later, kate martin was standing in front of you during warmups. you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. you knew that no matter how this game turned out, everything would change between the two of you. at first you weren’t sure if she had even remembered or cared about what had happened in the iowa locker room weeks prior. your confusion quickly faded though when in the first quarter, she looked at you and said, “good luck y/n, hope you saved some of that hatred for me tonight.”

the game ran smoothly, you guarding her all night and making quick comments to each other. your team ended up beating iowa by 3 points and you were wondering if kate would even be in the mood to see you now. taking off your shoes and quickly changing out of your jersey, you hear the door to your own locker room open and close. you turned around, seeing that you were the only one in the locker room until kate steps right in front of you.

“good game out there.” was all she said.

“thanks… uh you too.” you stuttered, suddenly feeling really nervous with all of her attention on you. you couldn’t even look at her when suddenly you feel her finger tips on your chin, pushing your head up to look at her.

“don’t think i forgot about what i said. i will handle you tonight… if you still want that of course.” she said, stepping closer to you. all you could do was nod, a vibrant blush spreading through your cheeks.

“don’t get all shy on me now, y/n. meet me at my hotel room in an hour, i’ll kick caitlin out. i’ll text you the address.” she says with a smirk, stepping back and exiting the locker room. you felt a pit of heat in your stomach thinking about what would happen in an hour. one thing you knew for sure though was that you weren’t this shy girl who was going to let kate off easy, you were going to make her handle you as hard as that was.

exactly an hour later, with the address kate texted you, you stood outside of her hotel room. right as you were about to knock, the door swung open revealing caitlin clark. she wore a smug smile as she looked at you. “hey y/n, what a surprise. take it easy on my girl, we still need her for the rest of the season.” she joked as she headed down the hall. laughing, you turned and saw kate in the doorway now, beckoning you to come in.

“i was nervous you wouldn’t show up.” she said, scratching the back of her neck.

“guess i just wanted to see if you could handle me as well as you say you can.” you shrugged, take a seat on the bed.

“you really want to do this with me? because after this everything will change and we both know that.” she asked, walking towards you. she now stood in between your legs, looking down at all.

“i want this more than you know.” you said, resting your hands on the back of her legs. on cue, she leaned down and kissed you. this was everything you had ever wanted, even if you hadn’t always known it. god, was she a good kisser.

standing you up to meet her level, kate pushed you back on the bed, crawling on top of you. “just so you know, i still hate you.” you said, in between kisses. she laughed and started taking off your shirt, then hers. she couldn’t keep her hands off of you, running them up and down your waist. you couldn’t help but arch your back at her touch. as she trailed kisses down your stomach, you moaned knowing what was coming next. she slid your shorts off, then your underwear.

“if hating me gets you this wet, i dont want you to ever stop.” she said, looking up at you before finding your clit and latching on. your back shot off the bed as you whimpered out, “fuck you.” she chuckled at this, continuing to circle her tongue around your clit, before inserting a finger into you. you moaned feverishly and cried out that you were close. her speed becoming faster as she kept on thrusting into you, hitting the right spot over and over again.

“kate i can’t take it anymore,” you whimpered, tugging on her hair.

“yes, you fucking can and you will,” she said, pulling her mouth away from your clit, but continuing to pump her fingers in and out of you. you could feel tears forming as your legs began to shake. finally giving you permission to come, her lips found your clit again as you rode out of your orgasm. you were panting now as she pulled out of you and hovered over you, planting a soft kiss on your mouth.

kate began to gather up your clothes, as you sat up. “are you not going to let me return the favor?” you were hungry for her. she stopped and smirked at you.

“next time.” was all she said.

“so there will be a next time?” you asked, feeling a swell in your heart and stomach.

she climbed back on the bed with you, kissing you slowly with more passion than before. “do you still hate me?” kate asked, cocking her head. you smiled and nodded.

“then there will be as many next times as it takes until i fuck all that out of you.”

[dinogoofymutated]

Plz tell me you’re doing a part 2/continuation of you nsfw nightcrawler(only if you don’t want to of course). I just have got to read about Kurt returning the favor cus I just know he’s going to be a little teaser/pleaser 🤭 ya know. Kurt has been one of my first loves since I was a kid and I’m so glad the nightcrawler fandom has come out of hiding because it feels nice to be in a place that gets you😌

NSFW!Nightcrawler/AFAB!reader - part 2!

Don't forget to read part 1!

Ask and you shall receive!! You and @the-girl-who-walks-with-faeries both requested a part 2 so here it is!! I hope this is okay, I know the original was completely GN but I wasn't sure how to do that with this one!

Also, I know we all love our goofy furball but this is a daily reminder that Kurt has so much depth to his character. It's really easy for us as a Fandom to characterize him as a happy-go-lucky ball of constant sunshine but he's much more than that!- Tis all. Peace ✌️

TW: MDNI!!!! Smut, fingering, PNV sex. Little bit of teasing. Lots of petnames. Sorry for the shitty German translations. Creampie.

Kurt used to be really self conscious about his hands when the two of you first got together. It's not that he thought you found them disgusting, in fact, he knew it was quite the opposite.

He was just worried that he wasn't able to prepare you properly. Especially since they're so wide set on his hand. Going two at a time wouldn't be comfortable for you or him.

Eventually, he did become more confident on himself, especially when he tried other ways of foreplay, making sure you're not only prepared, but fully sated before the main course.

“Please, let me return the favor, my love.”

Kurt's hands teasingly rubbed the crook of your thighs, caressing the sensitive inner skin. You can't help but let out a little whine as he slides his hands closer to your lips, only to slide away again. He chuckles, and you faintly hear his tail swaying back and forth against the bed.

"Kurt, don't tease." You softly chide, relaxing further into his chest. He leans over to kiss your cheek, trailing down to your neck sensually. You sigh as he licks and nips at the soft skin.

"Apologies, Schatz. Seems I can't help myself." He muses. You gasp as a fingertip grazes across your clit, teasing at first, before he adds a little more pressure. You let out a noise of pleasure and contentment at the sensation. Kurt's other hand reaches up to caress your breast, thumb gently brushing across your nipple. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as the finger on your clit dips down, teasing your slit as he gathers the sickness pooling there and drags it back up to your clit.

"All this, for me?" Kurt hums, his canines grazing the crook of your neck. You nodd in response, unable to think clearly enough to respond to him. He chuckles again, turning your head to pull you into a deep kiss. You feel one of his fingers teasing your slit again, sliding in rather smoothly. The action causes you to gasp into his mouth, and Kurt takes the invitation. His tongue caresses the inside of your mouth, keeping you rather occupied as he fingers your cunt. His kiss leave you breathless, gasping for air when you separate. His face is just as flushed as your own as his thumb wipes the spit from your mouth. You stick your tongue out to meet his thumb, licking the pad of the digit before sucking it into your mouth teasingly. Kurt can't take his eyes off of you, cursing quietly at the action. The curl of his finger inside of you causes you to release it, moaning as he touches you just right.

"Kurt?" He sucks in a breath at the sound of your voice.

"Yes, liebling?" The nickname causes a flutter in your chest even now, sprawled out across his lap in the throes of pleasure.

"Fuck me?" He's speechless for a moment, heated gaze keeping your own. He can't kelp but lean in and kiss you again, his tail wrapping around your waist to simply have you fully encompasses in his hold.

"...I will do more than just that, my love." He whispers once he gathers himself enough to speak. He gently turns you around, kissing you over and over as he lays you against the bed. His hands trail down your arms. Gathering your wrists and bringing them upwards to press kisses to both palms. His eyes narrow as he catching a glimpse of the bruise forming on one of your wrists, and a heated gaze turns to concern.

"Did I do this?" He asks, tail unwinding from around your waist, like he's worried he'd squeeze you to tight (again). You don't want to lie to him, but you don't want to tell him either, knowing that the thought of hurting you while caught up in his own pleasure is more than a nightmare for him. Instead you pull him down to kiss you. He sighs into the kiss, caressing the bruise before he moves onto his elbows to hold himself above you in the bed. He’s hard against you when you grind up against his pelvis, the action making him gasp. He separates from the kiss reluctantly as you begin to line him up, notching the head of his cock against your slit. He stops you before you try to take him in.

"You stop me if that ever happens again." Kurt says, a little more strictly than you've heard him speak to you before.

"Okay." You nodd at him. "I promise." He smiles at you, brushing the hair out of your face before he begins to push into you, slowly. You're breath gets caught in your throat as he does so, sinking into you inch by inch. Kurt’s face is scrunched up in pleasure, those beautiful sharp canines biting into his lip before he buries his face in your neck.

Nothing has ever felt as perfect as he does when he's finally bottomed out inside of you. He sits for a moment, letting you adjust to his length before your patting his shoulders, begging him to move. He does so, starting slowly, thrusting deep into you as he pours his love into your body. You're doing your best to keep quiet, but it's hard when Kurt feels so perfect inside of you. Each thrust into you sends another flicker of pleasure to your stomach, already feeling so close.

Kurt himself isn't fairing much better, his whines and noises of pleasure being a sound you want to memorize until the day you die. Every once in a whole he'll murmur words of praise and love and appreciation for you, your body, your soul. He's immersed in the depths of you, sinking into your cushiony walls faster and faster as he begins to reach his own peak once again. One particular thrust is a little shaprer than the others, leading you to call out his name.

"Pssst. wir müssen ruhig sein. Liebe." He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His strokes become faster as he gets closer and closer, not too far behind you.

"Kurt! I'm- ah... I..."

"Ich weiß, Schatz. Hah... ich bin bei dir." The knot of pleasure inside you snaps, and snapps hard. Kurt groans as he feels your walls fluttering around him, sucking him in. The sensation is too much. He thrusts inside you a few more times before he's reaches his own peak, cumming inside you in warm spurts. He twitches inside you, letting out small whines as he rides through the waves of pleasure.

Kurt collapses partially on top of you when he's done, pulling out gently and panting as the two of you try to catch your breath. His face is flushed when you look over at him, hair disheveled with his eyes blissfully closed. Your heart skips a few beats at the sight, and you find yourself reaching over to caress his face. His eyes blink open, and he smiles in a way that makes your heart stop. He holds your hand to his face, brushing his thumb across the skin of your knuckles.

"I missed you so much." You murmur, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. His smile would spread wider if it could, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes.

"We should make up for all the lost time then, love. How long do you think it will take for the others to notice us missing?"

[the-boy-meets-evil]

building blocks | yjh (teaser)

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

pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to ?? | fluff, some angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: 842 for the teaser (est. 12-14k) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: smut, drinking, eating, etc.) full fic: september 13th!

a/n: i wanted to drop a teaser of my fic for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰

join my taglist here or leave a comment to be tagged in the full fic!

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

Except…

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.

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

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

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

i hope you enjoyed it! and less than a week til the full fic is posted 🫣

taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n (strikethrough means can't tag)

[dunebrat]

FORBIDDEN HEIR part3

Feyd Rautha x reader . ་   ˖ ࣪  ་ ⭐️

Part 2

Summary : The wedding of you and feyd, and the morning after your wedding night.

ㅤ───────────────────────

Your body still bears the marks of childbirth, and the sudden transition from a simple life to the wife of a powerful dangerous man feels overwhelming. You stand before the mirror, your wedding dress hanging delicately in front of you. The lace details, the flowing train, it's all so beautiful, but your eyes can't help but focus on the flaws of your body the slight bulge around your waist, the imperfections that seem magnified in the off white fabric. You are grateful for your son but the pregnancy was not easy. And now, in the aftermath of childbirth your body is still in recovery mode. The scars of labor are still fresh, the physical toll of bringing new life into the world evident but you wouldn't trade a moment of it for anything in the world. You’re proud to have a child with feyd and he was a good father to your son.

Feyd loved your new body, it was proof that you had his child. He wanted everyone to know that he had claimed you such a manner. His hot mouth glides across your jawline, down to your neck, leaving countless bites and bruises. You’re so beautiful to him. “I want our next one to look just like you,” he mutters, while eating you on your shared bed. You shriek, eyes rolling back. "Give me a daughter that looks like you?" He muttered between kisses.He was already thinking about planting his seed to into you again.. He was glad he has had the honor to marry you.

The wedding is a grand celebration, attended by leaders from across the galaxy. As you exchange vows with Feyd you can't help but feel a mix of happiness and nervousness. Yet, his reassuring words before the wedding gave you a glimmer of hope that everything would go smoothly.

"You look beautiful" he said while grabbing you’re waist, pulling you closer.

Among the lavish party, gifts pour in from far and wide. Exquisite jewels from distant planets, rare artifacts, and priceless treasures adorn your new home. The anticipation and nerves of the first wedding night are palpable as you and Feyd retreat to your room. As you stand on the balcony, the moon casting a soft glow over the world below, a whirlwind of emotions churns within you. It's your wedding night, yet you can't shake the nervous flutter in your stomach. You know your husband has seen every crevice of your body but you still feel nervous about it. Just as you're lost in thought, Feyd steps onto the balcony, his presence a comforting.

You see him approaching you with a smirk on his lips "what's on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, summoning the courage to voice your fears.

You hesitantly speak "I... I'm nervous about tonight."

Feyd's brows furrow in concern as he steps closer, enveloping you in his reassuring embrace.

"You are more beautiful to me than words can express, regardless of how you may perceive yourself. Your body is alluring no matter how you look, I’m grateful for the son you have given me and I admire you for it" He said grabbing onto your tits that are filled with milk, gently pulls you closer to him and kisses your lips softly. He grabs your ass and gives it a squeeze, "you were always mine but now everyone knows it" he said inches from you’re face

You glance away, feeling your cheeks blush

Feyd gently tilts your chin up, locking eyes with you

"I want you to undress me" he says, his voice a command that sends an wave current through your body.

You reach up and start to unbutton his shirt, your fingers fumbling slightly as you try to undo the buttons. He watches you with a smirk on his face, enjoying the sight of you trying to undress him.

You finally manage to undo the last button and pull his shirt off, revealing a well toned chest. "You like what you see?" he asks as you take him all in with your eyes. "Yes I do." you say with a nervous smile.

"Dont be nervous, tonight will be like all the other nights l've taken you, I know you like the back of my hand love" he said as his hands move down your back, cupping the curve of your ass and pulling you closer to him. You can feel his hardness against you as he grinds into you with a slow rhythm that sends shivers through your body. You can feel his hands slide down your back and into the waistband of your panties.

He slides them off slowly, exposing your ass to him for the first time on this night. It had grown twice as size from the result of pregnancy and you could tell that he was loving it as he grabbed your ass and gave it a squeeze. He then crouched down onto his knees in front of you and brings one of your legs over his shoulder and eats you out while you are leaning against the balcony railing. He sucks on your clit and licks up the cum that is leaking out of you, his tongue flickering over every inch of your pussy as he brings you to an orgasm.

He picked you up and fucked you against the railing, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you. You could feel his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, the pleasure building inside you until it was too much to bear. You came hard, your pussy clenching around his cock as he continued to fuck you through the orgasm. He finally pulled out of you and let you slide down onto your knees in front of him.

"Clean my cock", he said as you took his cum covered dick into your mouth and sucked it clean. He grabbed the back of your head, pushing deeper inside until all 10 inches were down your throat. You gagged and choked on his cock, your eyes watering as he used you like a fuck toy.

"everyone can probably look up and see my pretty little wife pleasing her husband” he said as he cums in your mouth. He tells you to swallow it all.

────────────────────────

You had sex multiple times that night and per usual he was not gentle with you. So the next morning you spend the rest of your day in bed, recovering from the intense fucking he gave you.

As you slowly awaken from sleep, you're greeted by the sight of Feyd sitting in the soft morning light, cradling your newborn son in his arms with a tender expression on his face. Your heart swells with love at the sight of the two most important people in your life.

"Good morning, my loves." You said softly

Feyd looks up, his eyes he meets your gaze. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

You stretch out, feeling the soreness in your muscles and between your legs from the night before. "not exactly. I'm feeling a bit sore, to be honest." Feyd's smile widens, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

"Well, it seems like i did a good job then."

You playfully swat at him, rolling your eyes as you reach out to take your son into your arms.

Feyd chuckles, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

꒰ ୨୧ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ・┈ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈・┈ ୨୧꒱꒱

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