#they said they could have something to give back to me by Monday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gyuswhore · 3 months ago

Text

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

kim mingyu x reader

word count: 21k

contains: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [minors DNI], angst, statistics, ur honour they're stupid for one another, descriptions of stress exhaustion and burnout, academic burden, disagreements, mingyu is smart as hell, shitting on bad professors, smut but its a surprise [gyu gets his soul sucked while he's reciting statistical models I mean what]

words of conviction from @highvern: Kim Mingyu, total asshole , 1-800-HOT N DUMB , THEYRE IN LOVE MINGYU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOSER , sick fucking freak , i know when you wrote this you put your head in your hands , OHHHM YW GOD

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

[a/n]: this fic is set in the same universe as @highvern's wonu fic endpoint [read here!!!], some insight for wonu's pov is included here as is some of Mingyu's pov in cam's fic if you'd like to see more about what happens in the gaps!!

I want to start by thanking everyone who chose to be part of this collab fic and for being the reason cam and I were able to open up @camandemstudios in the first place. everyone's been so kind and cooperative and I still cant believe we managed to convince such amazing writers to join us on this collab journey 🥹 I love u guys

Thanking my wife camothy @highvern for brainstorming with me since day one and for betaing for me. @seokgyuu and @miabebe for also looking over the doc and reassuring me. I'm for sure forgetting someone and I'm really sorry about that, know that I appreciate you just as much 🤍

on that note, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, im HELLA nervous for some reason so plsplspls remember to reblog and send me feedback on how you liked it, I will love you forever <333

masterlist

Monday

A normal person would’ve cried. Perhaps even sued the entire institution for all it was worth. Burn down the world, if it came to it.

But as you stare at the tiny 37/100 on your screen, you feel…nothing.

You could’ve said you saw it coming, which you did, but something about blaming someone else for an exam you took was beginning to feel a little manipulative.

Clicking off the student portal, you huff loudly, five in the morning too early for you to begin breaking down over a grade that was completely unreflective of what you were taught.

Or maybe it was, because as you count one, two, three hours till your dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, you can only hope you’ll hold back from spitting in your professor’s coffee. But alas, you can only shut your laptop harder than necessary for what it costs and push the grade out of your mind.

You were tired enough to sleep for a couple more hours, and you take it as an opportunity to spite the entire course by giving just as many fucks as your professor did.

Which was little to none.

That was a lie—on your part anyway. Because you continue to show up, and probably will until you can put this course and all of its trauma behind you. Even now as you feel the inclining beat of your pulse sitting in the white lecture hall, you know this is all but you versus the universe.

Dr. Cho might as well have wheeled himself into the room on a skateboard with the way he struts into the room.

He’s wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off and jeans of a matching finish that do not fit him properly. There’s pins in every last colour on this earth, littering the front of his jacket with sayings that toe the silver controversial lining. There was one that said Vote for John F. Kennedy, another plain black one with I Eat Kids, and of course, the blaring Cunt written in cursive, pink sparkly letters.

This man that’s pushing into his 60s stands before his slightly wilted class in his crocs, hands on his hips as he heaves a long breath.

“I have to say, not the turn out I was expecting on that last report.”

He’s talking about the report you coincidentally failed, the same one you were pushed into with little to no direction and a deadline tighter than any you’ve had to bully yourself through.

“All I can say is to read through the feedback I’ve given and try a little harder next time.” His voice is somewhere bordering comical exasperation. Feedback that consisted of sparing ��?’’s and ‘no’’s with zero further explanation. He could say more, but you’ve learned that he simply chooses to not.

Besides the man that drones in the front of the room, there’s another person in the other corner of the lecture hall. He’s hunched over a giant pile of papers, sifting through each and every one with a pen in his other hand.

The TA doing a mundane task is somehow more interesting than whatever seminars of disappointment your professor was giving. He’s crossing something out on every single leaf of paper that he flicks through, and you vaguely wonder if those were today’s worksheets.

“...and post hoc tests last week, we can start on Bayesian today. Mingyu will be handing out the tutorial papers.”

The poor TA looks like he thought he’d have more time, snapping his head up to look at the professor with an expression of pure incredulousness. He staggers for a moment before he’s flicking past the pages even faster somehow, striking out what seems like the same instruction in the giant pile of papers meant for an entire lecture hall. There’s a rustle as about a hundred laptops are being pulled out and booted up, waiting for the worksheets to land on the desks.

You hear the familiar warble of papers being passed out and you watch as the TA pulls chunks of sheets out of the giant stack in his arms to slam down onto the front tables.

“Pass it down, please… pass it down, please…”

There’s a voice that calls from one of the front seats, “What formula is the sheet talking about?”

Mingyu looks startled as he snaps back to look at the blaring empty whiteboard. In the midst of passing papers, you watch him sprint to the rolling whiteboards, pulling one of the giant flats of white over to the other side, the mechanism slamming into place with a louder than comfortable slam. It reveals another whiteboard underneath with the detestably long formula already written (and the one you’d have to figure out yourself).

The professor remains with his chin in his hands behind his laptop, unphased.

By the time you’ve registered the foreign symbols on the board, one of the tutorial papers has made it into your hands.

Sure enough, there’s a quick line across one of the steps with a thick black marker.

Blinking hard, you attempt to pull yourself into the zone, staring at the white sheet with words that are barely stringing themselves together. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially as you lift your head to find hunched shoulders and furrowed brows all around.

There’s one person that’s zipping back and forth, just like there always is.

You watch as Mingyu hunches over certain laptops and whispers in rapid explanation before moving on to the next, a looming sense of dizziness that trails behind him as he shoots up the stairs to the back rows to help someone else.

There’s a brief consideration to raise your own hand to ask for help, but one look at his disoriented gaze and the amount of hands that shoot up by the second, you guess it wasn’t going to help.

Back you go, hunched over the same wretched paper as everyone else, and praying for some divine revelation.

Tuesday

Divine revelation did not come to you, but the good sense to make use of office hours did.

So here you are, a printed copy of your supposedly horrid assignment and a pack of multicolour pens in your tote, and determination in your stride, you make your way to the department building.

You’ve double, triple, quadruple checked the times to ensure you don’t dip in at the wrong moment, swiping open your phone to re-check the room number yet again.

Standing outside the door, you knock with mustered confidence, waiting for something akin to an affirmative from the other side of the door.

Nothing.

You knock again.

Silence.

You glance around the empty hall before grasping onto the cool brass handle of the door, wrenching it open just a peep. Poking your head in, you find the room…empty.

The chairs and tables that usually buzz with discussing students lay barren as you step into the room. Moving to look at the front of the room, you inhale sharply as you realise the professor’s desk has been occupied this entire time.

Except he’s asleep.

No, that’s not the professor.

Moving closer, you watch the way his back rises and falls ever so slowly, head resting on his arm as his hand hangs limp off the table. Whipping your head around with more attention this time, you attempt to find an explanation written on the walls. But there’s none, even in the papers that litter the table he rests his head on.

You don’t need to see his face to know it’s the TA. But as you stand in the empty room, clutching the straps of your tote, you aren’t quite sure what to do.

Another glance around the table and you realise his laptop remains on, the screen yet to sleep. Before the obvious issue of a blatant invasion of privacy can befall you, you take a step forward to take a peek.

It’s his schedule, a million colours blaring on the screen in a colour coded regard with barely any white spaces. It doesn’t take long to find his time slot for right now, red with importance.

Glancing down, the man remains fast asleep, pen still in hand as it inks a faint line on the page. You look around the room for the nth time, taking constant glances back at his laptop that tells you he’s actively missing something right now. Clearing your throat, you hunch over a tad bit.

“Um, excuse me.” He hardly moves. So you try a little louder, hunching over his sleeping form even further. “Excuse me.”

You could’ve sworn you heard a snore.

Out of instinct, you bring a hand forward to his shoulder, shaking ever so slightly as you call for him again. “Excuse me!”

There’s a sharp inhale and he shoots up quicker than you can back away, ensuring you get an entire back’s worth of force as he bumps into you, hard.

“Wh–ow!” The noise is collective, yelps and thuds as you both back away from each other.

“W–what’re you doing here?” he asks, hair still ruffled and eyes barely open as he stands at the table. There’s a bright yellow sticky note on his right cheek, ink scribbled on in something you can’t decipher.

“Um, it’s office—”

His eyes land on the same screen you were peering into just before and it looks like his life flashes before his eyes, widening at the sight as he slams around the table looking for something.

“I have to go,” he announces, gripping onto an unstrapped watch as he registers the time, his other hand shoving his laptop and a few papers into a dark messenger bag.

“Wait, isn’t it still office hours?” you call out as he whizzes past you.

He’s swinging his bag over his shoulder and half tripping to the door as he calls out, “Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“But—”

“It’s on the portal.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it—” he pauses as he exhales loudly, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to rub across his tired face. “I’ll double check. But it’s Wednesdays and Thursdays from now on. You can wait till I get back if you really want help.”

“How—”

A loud slam! of the door.

“—long…”

You’re left draped in silence yet again, the echoes of the slammed door ringing in your startled ears. It all happened too fast for you to process, blinking rapidly as you registered that you were now alone in the room.

He said he’d be back, but left you with no indication as to when. By the looks of his god awful schedule, it looked like he had something else to attend to right after whatever it was he buggered off to right now.

Fingers clenched into a fist, you consider your options. You could wait, sit on one of the desks and try to get some work done until he gets back.

The universe gives you your answer as the door opens with a loud creak in the empty lecture hall. It’s another professor who looks quite startled to find an overenthusiastic student already present for class.

She stares before craning to look at the room number outside the door, “Am I in the right room?”

“Uh, yes! I was just leaving,” you buffer out, moving to shuffle out immediately.

You’re halfway out the door when you hear another call of an “Excuse me!”

“Are these your papers?” The professor’s full arms are up as she gestures to the still littered table.

The No is ready on your lips. Until it isn’t.

Later on, you’d consider how you left that room with an armful of papers that did not belong to you. How you’d ducked under the table to ensure you’d gotten everything, down to the leather strap watch with the cracked clock face.

But as you stare at the stack of files and sheets that lay on your desk at home, you only know of the decent act that you’d committed.

And nothing of the hourglass you’d just turned over.

Wednesday

In your Sent box are three emails sent on three separate days, all asking the same recurring question, all responding with the same recurring reply.

I wanted to confirm the days and times for office hours. I’m aware it’s on the portal but I’d like to reconfirm.

Regards, YN

Dear YN,

Wednesdays and Thursdays. 4 to 6 PM.

Kim Mingyu, T.A.

So there you were on a Wednesday afternoon, 3:59 PM sharp, outside the lecture hall where office hours have always been. With the same tote hung on your shoulders, with the same printed assignment and pack of multicolour pens, and a separated stack of files and folders, you wrench the door open with bated breath.

The blended murmur of the usual hustle and bustle of the appointment reassures you first, the sight of scattered students of familiar faces reassures you second. And most of all, a conscious TA that sits at the professor’s desk, speaking to another student over a laptop screen.

The man does nothing to acknowledge your arrival, continuing above the babble of students that occupy the chairs and the discussion. It isn’t too full, but considerably busy nonetheless despite how early you’ve swooped in.

There’s a brief consideration whether this was in the TA’s job description at all, craning your neck to take a full sweep of the room to find a sparing glimpse of the man who should be here. The professor and his loud fashion choices are nowhere to be found.

The sigh you let out is heavy and full of an emotion you cannot possibly begin to unpack, taking a seat on one of the unoccupied chairs to slump against. Shoulders sagging, you feel every fibre of your being screaming against your better judgement to pull out some work and to be productive while you wait. Reading over your failed assignment for the nth time, the same one that seemed to be some sick form of rage bait.

You pull a couple things out so as to not look awkward sitting and staring into nothing on an empty desk, uncapping your pen and pulling up your sleeves like there was business to be done. Which there was, but none of which you wished to entertain.

People watching, you realise, is a lot easier when most of the room is preoccupied with whatever it is they’re doing, too busy to notice your blank stares.

The faces are familiar, none of which are people you’ve interacted with before but classmates nonetheless. The room is full of shaking legs, spinning pens and hunched backs, not an un-scrunched brow in sight. There’s a particular gaggle of girls somewhere around the front, their tables suggesting a work environment but between the whispers, giggles and glances to the front of the room, you assume there’s one thing in common the both of you weren’t doing.

Speaking of the front of the room, your matched glance finds you face to face with the student at the main table in the middle of pushing himself off his seat. Your reaction is immediate, hand coming over to slam against the flat of your bag to find the lost straps, moving out of your seat as you keep your eyes on the front of the room.

Bad luck must be a lover, because you realise quickly that somebody’s already beat you to it. Before you even noticed the first’s intentions to. The student stands beside the chair ready to keep it warm as the previous occupant leaves.

Slamming back down on your own seat, you realise very quickly that trying to get an audience with this TA was going to be harder than you anticipated. There’s multiple other sounds of frustration around the room, and you doubt the slowly increasing pool of students was going to help anyone’s time management.

Realising you needed to be a little more tactical if you didn’t want to sit here for the next month and half, you find an empty spot near the gaggle of girls you’d noticed before. It was right up front, just enough for you to hear when the conversation would begin to conclude at the main table.

Once again, the TA doesn’t seem to notice any of the hustle and bustle of the room as his mouth continues to move rapidly, eyes on the question as he invests himself in his explanation.

It was unfortunate that the only remaining seat was right next to the louder than necessary group, but you take it as a blessing anyway. It’s then that the one right next to you turns to stage-whisper to you.

“Are you here to see him?”

You don’t expect a conversation, ears straining to eavesdrop on the other conversation in front of you to find your cue. You snap to look at her in surprise. “Pardon?”

“Are you here to see him? Mingyu?”

“Uh—” Wasn’t everybody? “Yeah, I had a couple things I wanted to clear out.”

The revelation makes her shoulders drop as she lets out a loud sigh, “God, I can never get anything this professor says. I've been here nearly every week trying to figure it all out.”

“Yeah he’s a bit…unorthodox.”

“He’s unorthodox too.” She looks over to the main table towards the TA, chin in her hands as she gazes. “A face like that is rare.”

It wasn’t that she was wrong, it didn’t take more than a glance to convince yourself that Mingyu was possibly one of the more attractive people you’d meet in your lifetime. But the appeal lasted for all of five minutes for you, flitting away when you noticed that he dragged along a very…overwrought… suggestion wherever he went.

It was clear he was stressed seemingly all year round, nearly just as relaxed as your professor seemed to be.

But Mingyu was attractive. And you realise how much of a fool you’d sound if you admitted to anything other than such.

“It is. His willpower’s somehow even rarer,” you add. “Don’t know how he does it.”

“God, tell me about it. Forget getting his number, trying to have more than a three sentence exchange with him without some statistical nonsense involved is near impossible.” Her face has fallen, a tight little frown on her face as she irritates herself with some other memory.

Taking a glance down at her notes, you find the printed sheet littered with glitter gel pen ink lining the edges, doodles of stars and hearts and small anime characters next to p values and z scores.

There’s a distinct sound of a chair screeching, and it’s like a large GAME OVER sign is hanging above your head.

You jerk in your seat, like you could jump over the table and land in the emptying seat with some god-given stroke of luck, like the person already standing next to the chair wouldn’t hold a lifelong grudge against the insane girl with an unnatural acclimation to statistics.

Although, nothing was more unnatural than the way this TA seemed to know more than the professor. Or you were just really behind.

Alas, you don’t tumble over the table or kick back your chair, merely making a forceful motion in your seat, palms itching terribly as you watch the girl with her open laptop balanced in her arms move to take a seat.

You were preoccupied, hence you do not notice that the TA has also noticed you.

Suddenly, the girl looks startled as she’s told to wait.

“She’s been waiting nearly a week, I really hope you don’t mind,” you hear him say, voice strained as you turn to look at him. His hands are outstretched to motion towards you a few feet across from him.

For whatever reason, you had no thought that he might’ve remembered you. Something about his half asleep state when he’d spoken to you, perhaps he might’ve thought he dreamt it. Or he’d just forgotten it altogether.

The girl glances at you, and her shoulders sag a little as she nods in formality.

“Thank you.”

It comes out of both of you, snapping to look at each other hardly a moment as you go back to smiling at the retreating student.

“You can come right after her,” he reassures, his own upturned mouth tired and fading.

Never have you felt more awkward trying to come around the elongated student tables.

You pause at first, staring at the table in front of you like it was worth trying to climb over or even crawl under it to get to the desk. Another moment of eye contact as he stares at your unmoving form with a blank look, and the heat pools your skin.

Staggering for a moment, you end up moving past your chair and walking the way round anyway, the screeching of the chairs only nurturing the existing budding humiliation for no apparent reason.

It only gets worse when you sit across from him finally, backside barely touching the plastic before realising you’d forgotten your bag in your seat.

Mid smile in a timid greeting when you make a sound resembling something of an “Oh!” as you spring back up immediately. It’s easier to reach for your bag over the table you were sitting on, reaching across to grab it off your vacated seat.

The girl you were sitting next to just before makes a motion like she’s trying to help and you have to remind yourself to smile at her as you retreat.

Mingyu has the very beginnings of an amused expression on his face once you’ve finally made yourself comfortable across from him, clearing your throat just for something to do.

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring out the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him.

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, he blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page.

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell.

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he actually wanted to know.

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer.

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and presentation was off.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words.

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes. You don’t have an explanation, but it’s somehow easier to feel helpless in front of the man that’s meant to help you. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he has to say it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand.

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger.

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did.

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered in a rainbow of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag.

You only remember when you spot the segregated file of papers in your bag.

“I almost forgot,” you say, slipping the files and tidbits out and in front of him.

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply, eyes widening as sees the familiar blue.

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

Pausing, you wonder if you should make the next comment, the words tumbling out before you can make a decision. “Maybe don’t run out of rooms still half asleep.”

By the grace of God, he laughs, “No, you’re right. I should be careful.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he continues. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.”

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

Thursday

True to your punctual nature, you make yourself known at exactly 3:29 PM.

Mingyu is at the desk, conscious and on the phone, eyes closed as he rests his face on his fist.

“I don’t know if I can make time for that—no, I understand, sir,”

Another pause as the noise from his speakers fill his ears, his rubbing over his face a little harsher than you doubt he’s entirely comfortable with.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

His phone hits the table with a heartbreaking thud, both hands covering his face as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“Light on your feet or something? I can never tell when you come in,” he startles when he notices you.

Sheepish smile on your face, you move to sit down. “Sorry.”

You know it’s invasive, and you also know you might be asking him to break some unknown university code of conduct, but curiosity takes charge as you ask a casual question. “Important call?”

“Uh, yeah, um, just work stuff,” he states, shaking his head swiftly like he’s trying to shake the thought out of his mind.

There’s a pause while you're slipping your papers and laptop out of your bag, during which he seems to have decided to divulge a little more.

“It was Dr. Cho. More stuff for me to do,” he says. “As always.”

“Does he do anything other than show up to class?” you ask through a snort.

“Of course he does. He cusses out every article he doesn’t agree with, is anything but objective and…the occasional relay of blatant misinformation.”

For the record, you’d never really heard Mingyu speak at all for the months he’d been TA-ing for the semester. It was small whispers of choice words in a vague voice, the distant murmur as he exchanged with the professor too far for you to hear.

The voice of the seemingly quiet and diligent TA was never known to you, not until yesterday as he explained statistical models and the flaws of your data presentation.

Passionately too. Incredulous for a discipline so dry and unapproachable.

That being said, something about the grit in his voice as he positively sneered through his teeth, badmouthing his professor—it was something you couldn’t quite believe he was capable of.

“I’m sorry you have to put up with him.”

Once again, by whatever stone of tolerance the universe bestowed in his heart, you watch him sigh and smile, “Anything for that recommendation. And the pay too, I suppose. Besides, he’s done a lot for the area, can’t discredit him entirely.”

With your eyebrows raised, he seems to catch your expression. He pants out a laugh, and your stomach lurches as you watch it reach his eyes, teeth on display, a lurch in his chest; a true laugh.

Raising his hands in surrender, he responds, “I’m stuck.”

There’s nothing you can do to stop the smile that reaches your own face, turning your laptop screen towards him with the JASP software display. “I am too. Help.”

Help, he does.

Monday

Mingyu ended up giving you an entire hour on that Thursday.

The thirty minutes before office hours began soared by like they were nothing, and you were ready to take your leave the minute students began to scatter in as the clock hit a swift four. Except he kept going, another 30 minutes in deep concentration as he retaught you nearly everything from scratch.

Perhaps his proven determination to ensure you don’t tragically fail is what prompted you to do this, standing at the till of your regular coffee shop as you ask, “Make that two, please.”

It might also be important to mention the 7:30 AM on the dial on a bright Monday morning as you walked into your slightly less dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, knowing there would only be one other person insane enough to get to the lecture hall this early.

Something isn’t right.

Mingyu is in a position all too familiar to you and everyone else who shares this class, hunched over something or the other in deep focus. The sun pours in through the lifted blinds, the lights of the class turned off as natural light does more than enough of the job.

It also shows you a blaring hot pink post-it note on his face, all too familiar to a previous interaction you’ve had with him.

He notices you before you need to announce yourself, brows separating as he recognises you in the doorway. “‘Morning!”

“...Morning.”

“You’re early,” he comments, straightening his back with a hand behind him for support as you approach.

“Figured we both needed this,” you hand him a tray with his cup of coffee, eyes still trained on his lower cheek with the paper stuck to it. “It’s a latte with no sugar, but I added a couple packets on the side anyway. Just in case.”

“O–oh, thank you. And you’re right I did need this.”

Now that you’re closer, the scrawled writing on the post-it note is clearer.

To Do:

Call mom

Shoot myself

“You, um—” It’s alarmingly difficult for you to say it, despite the words being so simple. Hey! You got a lil’ something on your face.

But all you do is dumbly point to your own cheek, eyes trained on the loud piece of paper that tells more than he might like the world to know.

There’s a loud slap of his hand on his own cheek as he crumples the paper in his hands, bringing it forward to see. “For fuck’s sake.”

“It’s okay! I wanna…shoot myself too sometimes.”

What the fuck?

“I mean!” you correct louder than you anticipated, before covering with a laugh. “It’s okay, it happens. Good thing I caught it before someone else did.”

It’s all the more petrifying when your voice echoes across the blatantly empty lecture hall, reverberating like it was a punishment for you and your horrid lack of volume control. Meeting his eyes feels like a sin right now, so you keep them downcast and pray he doesn’t try to sabotage your education.

“Good thing it was just you. Yeah.”

Just you.

“Anyways, I think I’m done with prepping for class. Do you wanna squeeze in twenty minutes of ANOVA?”

“Have you seen the time?”

“Not a morning person?”

“Nope!”

“And yet it’s 7:40 on a Monday morning and you’re absurdly early.” His brows are raised as he pulls around the professor's chair to bring it to you.

“Do you want the coffee or not?” you ask, watching as he drags another chair for himself.

The both of you sit away from the professors table, coffees in hand as you watch Mingyu run a hand through his hair.

He gives you a crooked grin,“I apologise.”

“To be fair,” he continues. “I’m not much of a morning person either.”

You narrow your eyes the slightest bit as Mingyu takes a sip of his unsweetened coffee, “I’m starting to think no money’s worth this job.”

Mingyu snorts, coffee suspended in his full cheeks. He swallows with much difficulty before answering, “You’re right. Not sure why I’m still here either. I could get an offer from another professor.”

“And that isn’t happening because…?”

Elbows on his knees, Mingyu swirls his capless coffee cup, the beige liquid moving in a growing tornado. “I like Dr. Cho.”

“You—”

“I know,” he laughs loud, a deep, echoing sound that shakes in your ears. “I know. I sound like a lunatic.”

“I don’t know about lunacy, but insanity can have its reasons.”

“Another would argue that insanity was the very absence of reason.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Excuse me for doing my job.”

He takes another sip of his coffee, and you ask again, “No, but really. I can’t imagine this man having too many redeeming qualities as an educator.”

Mingyu lifts his chin as he presses his lips together. “When I was in my first year, there was this other class I had where we had to write a lab report for the first time.”

“PSYCH101?”

“That’s the one. I’d never written one before, but I liked statistics enough to do a little more digging than what the assignment called for. I ended up finding one of Dr. Cho’s studies, read the entire thing, word for word. I was up all night reading nearly everything he’d published, some of ‘em before any of us were even born.”

“Oh. So you’re a fan.”

“Everyone tells you to never meet your idols,” he snickers. “He’s done amazing things, but I guess he pays for it with his flawed personality.”

“I’m sorry it had to be you,” you half joke.

Mingyu looks at you sheepishly, “That might also be my own fault.”

“Don’t tell me you offered.”

“I might as well have. All my assignments referenced his work the most. I was always talking to him about upcoming research after class, and it was like he was a different person. Forget differing opinions, some of what he was saying was just…plain incorrect. He welcomed the argument though, and I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true. He was always emailing me extra resources which…I’m pretty sure he isn’t supposed to do. Only reason I did so well in his class was because I taught myself.”

He sighs a loud sigh, straightening his back, “I guess he liked me more than I thought, because next thing I know I’m getting a call over the summer telling me I have a job.”

“Did he…have a TA when you were in his class?”

“Four.”

“Four?!”

“Two at a time. All of ‘em quit at some point. Said they didn’t want the recommendation or the pay.”

“Would he…not give you a recommendation anyway? You said he liked you.”

Mingyu shakes his head solemnly, “He’s a tough cookie, everyone in the field knows that. If you’ve impressed him, you’ve impressed everyone.”

You take a moment to really absorb everything you’ve just learned. “That’s a sucky position you’re in.”

“Tell me about it. But it’s okay. Three—three and a half more months to go? This isn’t even the worst of it, I’m just dreading study week when I’m gonna have to handle all the crying.”

You wince as he mentions something even remotely close to exam season, still barely at a stage where you can accept you’d be alright with this class.

“I know you’re not nearly as qualified or experienced as him, but I think you could take over his class.”

“Ever heard of barriers to entry? I’d be ruined if I wanted a career in this.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “All I’m saying is I’ve learned more from you in barely a couple hours combined than the last two months I’ve spent cursing this very lecture hall.”

If you weren’t lying to yourself, you could’ve sworn you saw a blush creep up his face, and paired with his shy laugh and hand at the back of his neck, you can’t help but bite back your own smile.

“If I can help you then it’s worth losing myself.”

Your heart is in your fucking throat.

“I’m glad when students tell me that,” he continues, utterly oblivious to the landslide happening in your digestive tract. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re—” you swallow thickly because you sound like a toad. “You’re doing more than just something right. You’re saving us therapy and an extra semester.”

He laughs at that, and you wish he’d let you breathe.

“Feels like I’m doing something wrong sometimes,” he huffs. “My friend’s a TA too and he’s got himself a girlfriend on top of everything else he’s got going on.”

He goes on, “Do you know how many times I need to ask people to quit twirling their hair? To look at the page and not my face? Asking for my number, I have an email for a reason, for fuck’s sake—”

Mingyu is cut off because you’re laughing, hand to mouth as your shoulders shake through your sniggering. “W–what?”

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “It’s just…It sounds like you don’t know what you look like.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” he frowns.

“Nothing!” you exclaim. “But that’s the problem isn’t it.”

Mingyu doesn’t seem to buy it, even through your coaxing as you attempt to explain to him that he is, in fact, desirable.

“Can’t possibly be enough to distract people,” he huffs in earnest, still hung up on the students he can’t get through to.

“Majority of the class would beg to differ.”

There’s a pause as he registers what you imply.

After a few moments, he drops his head, opening his mouth, “Would… you also—”

There’s a loud creak of the door as you hear the immediate noises of shuffling feet and chattering mouths, as low and tired as they sounded. Turning back to look at Mingyu, he’s already jumped out of his seat, wrist to face as he checks the time on the same leather strap watch you returned.

“That’s our cue,” you breathe, pushing your chair back behind the professor’s desk as you manoeuvre around Mingyu who’s suddenly frantic.

Of course you realise there’s people other than just the two of you in the room, heightened in seats that are designed to ensure they can absorb every detail that goes on right where you stand in the front of the room.

But you feel the soft of Mingyu’s shirt over his wrist as you give him a gentle squeeze despite it all, barely enough pressure. Half your index finger brushes the skin of his hand, just enough to register how cold your fingertips are and how warm his body is.

“Relax,” you whisper. “You’ll be better off without all the panic.”

You don’t see his face as you brush past him and up to your seat, looking up to see him disappear somewhere in the corner hunched over another stack of papers. The next time you see Mingyu’s face is when the professor arrives and has begun his regularly scheduled tomfoolery, and realise all the age that can accumulate in the span of five minutes.

Thursday

Midterm season is nothing you’ve ever really had to worry about.

Something about the halfway point did make it obvious that the clock was ticking, but danger was far enough away to prevent the ultimate breakdowns reserved for the peak seasons.

Except this class isn’t ordinary, and it’s all you’re able to worry about all semester. And as Dr. Cho in his Thrasher vest announces the date for the in class midterm, the glass once half empty, suddenly looks very half full.

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re more ready than anyone else in class.”

“How do you know that?”

Mingyu stares at you blankly, “If I don’t know that, then who else does?”

You have tears in your eyes, which is embarrassing enough since this is the second time you’ve teared up in front of him, but also because you’re in a library following Mingyu around like a lost duck because he insists on putting the books he borrowed back onto the shelves himself after registering the return.

“But I don’t feel like I’m ready,” you whine, turning the corner as he searches for the last spot to place his final book.

“You’ll realise just how ready you are when all those hieroglyphs on the page start to make sense to you,” he grunts the last bit out as he reaches on his tippy toes to shove the book back up.

Dusting his hands off, he adjusts his shirt before turning to you, “You only feel that way because I’ve been giving you harder problems to work on. You’re past the level you need to be at right now. Trust me, you’re more than prepared.”

“But—”

“Listen,” he waves to the librarian as you both leave the library, your eyes still glistening as you fiddle with your sleeves. “It’s only the midterm—”

“Only the—”

“If this goes wrong, I’m just gonna have to work you harder for the real thing. Even though I know it won’t go wrong because I said so.”

You fall into silence as he walks you towards the coffee shop across the courtyard.

“I’m assuming…” you start.

“Hm?” he looks over to you.

“I’m assuming you can’t hint at what’s on the paper.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh of disbelief, “You assume correct. I’m not going through hell with this job just to lose it because of a paper leak.”

“But it’s just the midterm,” you mumble, not even close to remotely audible.

“What did you say?” Mingyu smirks.

“Nothing,” you huff.

“You know, I’m a little offended you don’t trust me.”

“Who said I didn’t.”

“Well then, stop being such a worrywart.”

There must be something written on your face, because as you pass Mingyu standing at the door he keeps open for you, entering into the coffee shop with fallen shoulders, he seems to change his mind.

He brings you a coffee, sits you down, and gives you something else you need. “I made the paper. Every question. And I taught you. Every concept. So I definitely know you’re gonna be fine.”

In that moment, with the large glass walls of the warm coffee shop, the afternoon sun comfortably resting on every last object of the room, you don’t see it illuminate anything other than the man before you.

Perhaps you're being dramatic at the revelation, but you don’t take anything into account as you note Mingyu’s eyes and how they sparkle like they were gifted from the centre of a flaming volcano, brown and polished more than any jewel or stone you’d ever seen. Reaching out to touch him, you know you’d feel nothing but smooth stone, the indentations only possible by a being beyond what you could comprehend.

He’d given you more than just reassurance, and at times, his timing makes it feel like he was sent from the heavens itself, just for you.

You sniffle.

His hands brush over yours as he hands you a napkin, and even more so, cover your own as he takes your freezing fingertips into his own palm, the contact burning you like hot coal.

You know he’s real. And you don’t know why quite just yet, but that reassurance is enough to give you calm.

Monday

You were alright, but it seems that Mingyu seemed to disintegrate right after he was done reassuring you to the moon and Saturn and Jupiter and back.

It’s midterm day, and as always on every Monday morning, you enter the empty lecture hall with two warm coffees in your hand, ready for whatever shitshow you’d have to perform for today.

It seems Mingyu must defect from at least one regular string of behaviour to remain as Mingyu, who on this occasion, stands before you in a baby blue polo sweater.

Except you only know that because you can see the unique collar, but it might also be important that his back is turned towards you.

“Morning, champ,” he gruffs, nothing encouraging about his voice in the slightest.

Your breath hitches when you finally see his face, eyes sunken in and face pale. His lips are chapped and peeling, eyes half closed.

“Why’re you looking at me like that, why has everyone been looking at me like that?” he huffs in one long, rapid question.

“Um, I mean,” you stare at his shirt that’s backwards. And inside out. “I can’t tell if that’s a choice or a mistake.”

Looking down at his front, he looks back up, “What?”

“Your collar is…not at your collar, Mingyu. And your shirt’s inside out.”

Hand at his nape, he reaches his fingers down and finds the unmistakable starched planes of his collar, eyes closing at the realisation. He’s immediately pulling his arms out of the shirt with his eyes still closed like it’d all disappear if he keeps them like that.

“Wait!” you exclaim before he strips entirely, scrambling to put your coffees down to push him out of the room towards the restrooms. “Do you wanna strip for the CCTVs?”

You only hear him sigh as he moves out and into the hall, doors closed behind him.

You’ve nearly forgotten about the midterm at this point, your concern now growing in a completely different direction. By the time Mingyu returns, he’s blabbing about wondering why everyone he ran into since he left home was giving him the strangest looks, and then something about you always swooping in to save him before the real bout of disaster strikes.

It’s hard for you to listen to him when you’re more worried about him passing out, his face doing him no favours to reassure you that he wasn’t a breathing corpse.

“Mingyu…did you sleep at all?”

“Hm?” His eyes are glazed over and unfocused.

“Sleep? Rest?”

“Oh,” he frowns. “Not really. I had emails coming in all night.”

“And you were replying?”

“It's the midterm today,” he responds flatly, like it should’ve been enough explanation.

You almost don’t believe him. “Doesn’t mean you stay up to answer something that should’ve been cleared out beforehand!”

“Couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves,” he dramatises.

“Yes, you could!” Your voice comes out louder than you expected, eyes wide as you realise what he’s doing to himself. “You barely look human and it’s only the midterm.”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“I don’t know if this job is really worth as much as you think it is.”

Mingyu’s jaw is clenched, fists tight as he releases them to grip paper weight on the desk, knuckles white. “I can’t get anywhere if I don’t—”

“Mingyu, please. This isn’t good for you.”

He says your name. Declarative, almost like a warning. “If you think this job isn’t worth it then you just don’t know.”

“Mingyu—”

“No, you don’t, because I’ve seen how good of a job I’ve been doing.”

“You have, you’ve been amazing but—”

Mingyu’s own voice is raised, a hard impenetrable floor to the words he spills. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You look like a corpse!”

And then he’s getting out of his chair with so much force it almost knocks it backwards, “Why on earth do you care so much? So what if I look like a corpse, if I‘m doing my job?”

It might’ve been better if he knocked the chair right into you, your breath dissipating in your chest like it never existed. His face is morphed in an expression of exasperation your anxieties fear the most, every line on his face committed to irritation and anger.

Why on earth do you care so much?

Right. Why do you?

“Are you asking me that?”

“What?”

“Are you asking me why I care?”

Mingyu only sighs, shoulders dropping and eyes closed. Like so many times before, you watch run a hand through his hair, except this time he yanks on the strands harder than ever before.

His eyes are bloodshot.

“I have to get the exam pack.”

Marching out the door in front of your own eyes, you’re left with a feeling that’s right in the back of your throat, curling and whirling into something you wish you could hack and gag out. Gripping the corner of the professor’s desk, you feel the peeling wood cut into your skin.

There’s a draft, the delayed slam of the door has only hit its wind now, a delayed reaction. It’s like it registers in your mind as you feel strands of your hair shift, the clarity that comes with it.

Delusive. Chimeric. Cruel.

Everything you’d subjected upon yourself. A whimsical fantasy between pages of logic and numbers, a story that simply didn’t fit where the laws wouldn’t allow it.

The null hypothesis of your most elaborate nightmares.

Monday

Your favourite commonplace box, where your mother once placed all her most prized jewels, had a finicky latch.

It wasn’t broken, simply worn in from years of opening and closing. It took a few tries to get it shut. Simply pressing down with pressure didn’t work; you had to open it again, press down on the individual elements of the latch and then try again.

You were never satisfied until you heard the distinct click of the latch fixing itself, the box closed and ready for you to hook your lock through.

Earlier on in your undergraduate career, you remember a professor talking about the effects of external factors on the mind, how they can sometimes cause it to ‘shut down’ when overwhelmed or stressed.

It’s happened to you on many a occasion; like when you stayed up too late on a school night to watch a documentary about the Stanford prison experiment, or when you’d neglect food or water on busier days, or when you’d stop paying attention in class because you were too preoccupied thinking about Taco Tuesday.

Regardless, you’d found a way to recognise when your brain would fall into some strange kahoots with daydreams, or whatever was bothering you, and learned ways to give yourself a reset.

Pressuring and forcing the attention wouldn’t work, just like how the latch wouldn’t fit when you’d do the same with your beloved old box. So you’d take a walk, drink something cold, spray yourself with a garden hose, or even take a nap altogether. Opening yourself up, so the latch can finally click.

On the morning of your midterm, when you’d ensured your brain was in optimal condition for the exam you knew would be one of the worse ones you’ll have to take, you were sure the only external force that could ruin your vibe was from God himself.

Having been so preoccupied with your mind and its functions, you’d seemed to have forgotten where your heart had wandered off to.

Somebody else might consider it a minor disagreement; an anxious squabble if you will. But your breakfast in your throat was enough reason to deem what happened that morning much more than that. At least for you.

“Pass it on, please…pass it on, please.”

The sound of his voice is tectonic. Rattling in your head like a superior force had slammed into your skull like a padded hammer to a gong.

You hated it. You hated everything. You hated yourself. And as the midterm paper reaches you with your pen in your clawed fingers, the first three questions already making perfect sense, you realise you hated Kim Mingyu the most.

That was a lie. You were lying to yourself, yet again.

Because it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t hate him.

As you drift past every question of conditional experiments and screenshots of data and tables on a software, you hardly remember what you circle and what you don’t. Hardly remember what words you picked for the short answers and labels. You hardly remember taking the steps down from your seat to the front of the room, where the professor sat scrolling through his Skateboarders [!MEN ONLY!] facebook group, placing your paper down and leaving the classroom.

Throughout your years of living, you’d learned what you needed to get your brain out of its clouded muffle, to refocus when you needed it.

Everything. You tried everything.

But on that day, when it mattered most, your latch never clicked.

It’s Wednesday.

You order lunch from the Italian place a few streets down. Ravioli; it’s safe and you know you’ll like it.

Savouring it is easy in front of another true crime show. You pull a lone soft drink from your fridge, one that your friend left weeks ago. It tastes just as bad as the last time you tasted it from someone else’s cup, but you drink it anyway, the empty can now in your trash.

It’s 3:30 PM, and you sit at your desk. It’s strange. It feels like you’re missing something, which in ways, you are. But as you pull your laptop from your nightstand instead of out of your bag, you slow your movements.

The papers are the same. But you read them anyway.

Parameter estimation: Make inferences on characteristics of the population, including distributions of the variables and the effect of one variable over another.

It’s accursed the way the universe won’t let you live.

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, estimation cannot be perfect.

Estimation cannot be perfect.

[_]

It’s Thursday

Class. Eat. Drink. Work.

Hypothesis testing: Determine whether null hypothesis is rejected or not after data observation.

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, no null hypothesis in bayesian approach!!

[_]

It’s Friday

Eat. Drink. Work.

Latent means to have meaning but is yet to be manifested. The greek letters are placeholder values for values yet unknown.

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue; values that you will find out

[_]

It’s Saturday

Eat. Drink. Work.

P(A|B) = [P(B|A)P(A)

——————

P(B)

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

it gets less complicated

promise :/

[_]

It’s Sunday.

Eat. Drink. Work.

The page is blurry. Your eyes hurt.

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

you’ve got this!!! < 3

You give up.

It’s Monday.

8:14 AM.

You barely glance at the front of the room; swift turn to the left and right up the steps. Dr. Cho’s outfit almost goes unnoticed by you, tamer than most. Bright Barbie pink with large polka dots, untucked into too tight white jeans. His crocs are sparkly, at least that’s what the twinkle from up here looks like.

He’s insulting another author, the man’s ProQuest journal article open for the world to see like a mediaeval scandal.

There’s another person next to the whiteboards, back to the wall, hands clasped in front of him. His hair is messy, shooting lasers into the carpet as he rocks the slightest bit, listening to the professor rip this author to shreds.

An hour later, you’re staring into the JASP software like it was written in a different language.

Glancing next to you, the boy in the spongebob hoodie is playing sharkboy and lavagirl by himself. On your other side, the girl has the same thing as you open on her laptop, her pen occupied with drawing about a hundred tiny gojos on a bright pink sticky note.

Bright pink sticky note.

You snap your gaze back to your screen quickly after that.

9:58 AM. You start packing up, shoving everything into your bag.

Dr. Cho doesn’t even notice you slip out of the room, hardly a minute to the end of the lecture.

In the hallway, you take your first real breath in two hours.

It’s Tuesday.

You’ve come down with something, head heavy as you feel yourself burn up. Skipping class is easy when you sleep through your alarm and every phone call from a friend asking where you are.

They drop by, armed with medicine and soup. You almost feel better.

It’s silent after they leave, and you realise in that moment how much you hate it.

Opening your laptop for the first time in over 24 hours, you turn on a random podcast to play in the background, needing something to fill the air before you lose it entirely.

The screen lands right where you left on the incredulous data presentation, unsolved tutorial paper crumpled between the screen and keyboard like a wilted leaf.

Hot, scalding tears sting your eyeballs when you realise there was nowhere to turn to.

It’s Wednesday.

After a long day of doing nothing, still sick from whatever plagued your body, you go to bed earlier than usual.

It’s Thursday.

Walking out of class, your mind is empty. You’re still sniffling, still achey, but better than you were. The shawl wrapped around you is warm, and your hood covers the cold tips of your ears.

This other class makes you feel better about yourself, especially when the content is digestible and so is the professor. The TA feels like a mere accessory in the room, something you’ve learned to appreciate.

With your gaze lowered, you only see midriffs as you walk out the classroom into the busy hallway.

It happens in an instant, the flash of a clenched hand as the owner walks by in quick stride. An unmistakable leather strap watch with a broken clock face on the wrist.

You freeze like you’ve been caught.

The hard bump of someone coming out the room behind you is welcomed, the annoyed “Hey!” knocking you back to earth before you could even exit the dimension.

You’re off centre. But it’s fine.

It’s Monday.

“Midterm results are out Tuesday morning. If you have any questions I’ll be sitting at office hours on Wednesday and Thursday, four to six in the evening. Or you could send me an email, either’s fine.”

Dr. Cho isn’t here. Something you only found out when the pitt sank in your stomach as Mingyu cleared his throat at the full hour.

You want to leave, not caring about how strange it’d look if you did. Not caring about how he would definitely notice if you did. You want him to shut up, to stop talking, for anything to halt the way his voice infiltrates your entire being, talking about things you don’t understand but more familiar than anything else.

Mingyu’s voice is hoarse, and you loathe the way you can tell the difference.

It’s Tuesday.

Midterm Results for Statistics in Psychological Research.

— 92/100

It’s Wednesday.

4:10 PM. It’s almost too much for you. Almost.

The screech of the door is loud, the slam of the handle’s rebound even more so. The room doesn’t so much as glance at you at the door, the half full seats preoccupied with more important things.

The front desk perks up immediately, eyes shooting towards the door for the nth time that day, like he was expecting someone that never seemed to show up.

It’s ironic, you think, how Mingyu never seemed to notice you walk into the room for the many months you’ve walked in just for him. And now, as you walk in fists clenched and jaw set, eyes wild and burning, he’s breaking away from a student to look at the door before you even come into view.

“Did you feel bad?” you spit.

“What?” he whispers. He seems to come around, glancing back before continuing, “Can we talk? Please.”

“Answer the question, Mingyu,” you snap. You don’t care there’s a confused student sitting right across from the both of you, his slot interrupted by your barge. “Did you feel so bad you had to give me something I didn’t earn?”

He’s stood up now, half confused. “Is this about the midterm—”

“I did not get a ninety two, I know I didn’t,” you grit. “Whatever happened before that stupid paper made sure I wouldn’t.”

Mingyu says your name and the sound makes you want to vomit. “What makes you think I’d do something like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I fucked up because of you?” you announce, louder than before.

The world disappeared, your tunnel vision pointed at Mingyu’s face that wears an expression you cannot even begin to read. The unbecoming tears in your eyes are of a type of unadulterated rage you’ve felt only a few times before. Your heart is going about a million miles a breath, everything else only triggering an added bout of infuriated tremble in the forefront of your emotions. Nothing makes sense.

Mingyu pushes back his chair in silence, stalking over to a large cupboard in the corner of the room. He shuffles around for a minute before returning.

There’s a packet being thrust into your fists when he reaches you. He does not meet your eyes.

A bright red 92/100 marks the front page.

“Here. It was all you, if you can’t believe me.”

It’s a careful mark, unmistakable lines and curves of the nine and the two.

Reality is slow to sink in, but for some reason it’s only making you angrier. The paper curls under the pressure of your fingertips. You don’t open the packet. You refuse to flick through the pages.

Because you know you’ve lost.

It’s Thursday. And it’s full of regret.

There’s a sickness in you, from that dreaded day, something beyond what affects your body temperature and your energy. It’s in your mind, flooding the nerves that swim through every crevice and cave of your brain, a physical venom that does the opposite of kill but also the opposite of letting you live.

There’s a feeling in you, that even if you were to open your mouth, unhinge your jaw, try to scream as loud as your throat would allow, there would be no sound. Something like a horrible dream, that you need to screw your eyes tight shut to fall out of. Except you aren’t waking up from this one.

In a coffee shop, where Mingyu held your hand in a reassurance you now bleed for, you were sure he was real. Real like some deiform image; too good to be true.

In your bed, dry tears on your face, midterm packet sifted through that showed you absolutely everything that you did right, thanks to him. He feels too real. Real like a cloud of obsidian that follows you everywhere, like the sad that’s been sleeping with you every night.

If there was a way to hate someone more than a human limit, you’ve crossed it with the resentment you’ve now fostered for yourself.

Barging into office hours like that, accusing him on a basis of nothing but your own dangerously stewed thoughts. If there was a hope of salvaged parts, you took a hammer to it in disregard; tearing it to ribbons that lay at your feet.

It’s Friday.

At least it was. It bled into Saturday before you realised the 3:23 AM on the dial.

Two weeks of no help and you already feel lightyears behind. The hour is getting to you, and you feel the frustration pool into tears, that turn into full fledged sobs. You’re crying over Bayesian inference and it’s somehow more pressing than any other emotion you’ve ever felt.

Impossible numbers on your data sheets taunt you, not a single reference to if it was a button you clicked wrong or if you were playing a fool’s game altogether.

Ding! You pick up your phone, the weight of it is enough gravity to pull you back to earth.

[Mingyu]: switch to bF10

[Mingyu]: you’ve been pulling numbers from bF01

It’s immediate the way your eyes dart towards your lit screen, clicking off tables to get to the drop down menu you need. And there on the left, two tiny buttons, one clicked on bF01.

With shaking fingers, you move your cursor to hover over the tiny bF10, anticipating. You click. It takes a moment for the numbers to change, but they do. The nominal values turn into something you can actually work with.

Something akin to a tut leaves you, hidden in the breath of another sob. It’s stupid, unreasonable, absurd. Your fingers hover over your phone, shaking as tears drop onto the screen, faster than before.

Do you not miss me?

Do you not want me around?

Talk to me

I miss you

Please talk to me

“I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true.”

Mingyu is a product of his personality. You can only imagine he’s helped because he saw you struggling in class, heard from someone else, or perhaps, he just knew the very thing you’d make blunders out of.

The reasons come to you, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. Then why does it hurt? Why does it feel like the knife’s twisted a full 360, that despite the way you accused him of the thing that would strip him of everything he’s bruised himself for, he helps you. The very thing that caused this rift in the first place.

There’s a reason for that, and it is again, that Mingyu is a product of his personality.

It’s Saturday.

Perhaps you relied on your olfactory senses to remain calm, because you always knew you could count on a coffee shop to forever and always smell the same.

The universe seems to want to ruin that for you too.

“Latte, please,” you voice. “Iced.”

“We have a one plus one for the week! Would you like to receive another latte?” The lady taking your order looks no older than 17, a pep in her voice.

“Um, no thank you. Just one, please.”

She looks taken aback, a reasonable reaction to anyone turning down a free drink. But you couldn’t bring yourself to walk home with two cups in hand.

You’re plucking a napkin from the pickup counter when you hear his name.

“...that he manipulated her grade because they were hooking up.”

“He has time to hook up?”

“I remember hearing about that! She barged in during office hours and asked why he fixed her grade or something.”

“A ninety two? In that class? Oh, they were definitely fooling around with each other.”

“Whatever, at least we know he’ll entertain you if he likes you enough. I’m just glad those two are over so I can swoop in.”

There’s an eruption of giggles. You press your head down further.

“Unless he flirts in variables.”

“All is forgiven when you’re born with a face like that.”

Another explosion of giddy laughter, through which your drink is slid across the counter towards you, like it was waiting for you to hear the damning evidence before you could leave. You grab it anyway, grip tighter than usual.

Turning around, your eyes search, finding a group of people that sit in smiles and in various states of trust-falls.

There she is, the girl you sat with on the first day you attended office hours, the one with the glitter gel pen doodles on her notes and her blatant fawns over the TA you slipped under just as easily.

She locks eyes with you and her face falls, eyes widening the slightest bit in recognition.

Pressing your lips into a smile, you hope it doesn’t look as menacing as you feel. You don’t wait for a response before you walk out the large glass doors.

It’s Sunday.

It seems every sip of water you’ve taken during the week has been used up in all the tears you’ve seemed to be shedding. By the bucketload.

Alas, even blurry and puffy eyed, you pour over statistical formulas anyway, running on no energy and all antagonism. It’s another tutorial sheet left incomplete, a single question taking a pour that lasts in at least an hour of struggle.

Reading the same question for the nth time, your palms press into your temples as you stare lasers into the paper, like the revelation would come to you if you stared it down hard enough. It doesn’t make sense, the commands you’ve toggled on and off identical to the instructions on the page.

Hence the question begs why the data was coming out like someone pressed the ultimate on a number generator.

With a heat of unreasonable embarrassment, you find yourself checking your selection in one of the drop down menus, switching to bF01 and back just to see the difference. It does nothing to help, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved it wasn’t that particular snag.

The library is as silent as it could possibly be on a Sunday morning, near empty as you occupy the mostly vacant seats. The librarian is having her own day off, as you could swear she’s playing computer games behind the counter instead of actual work.

The only noise in the room is your own breathing, and that seems to be enough to mess with your concentration. You’re going cross eyed staring at the page for so long, the words doubling and disappearing before going back to normal.

Bayesian inference…z scores…null hypothesis…

Wait.

It’s like you can see it in front of your eyes right now, the scribble of someone else’s dark blue on your notes.

no null hypothesis in bayesian approach

Bayesian approaches don’t use null hypotheses. And z scores are in…

“Oh my god, this is a t test,” you whisper to yourself in disbelief. Immediately, you’re scrambling to shake your laptop out of its sleep, switching over to a t test to redo everything, following the instructions on the same data set.

And there it was…a clear 0.067 under the p value.

In a moment of questioning, you laugh out a breathy sound, the absurdity of it all becoming too real. T tests were the first thing you learned, the foundation to all your statistical knowledge. Coming so far, and it took you days to realise the instructions under a Bayesian approach were for a different realm entirely.

It was stupid of you. But in this difficult aftermath you can’t help but feel victorious. Laughing to yourself quietly in this empty library.

When the initial adrenaline fades and you’ve double, triple checked to ensure you were right, you can only stare at the tiny mail button in your shortcuts on the screen. It was clearly an error, one that was given out to nearly a hundred students.

The first step was clicking, your inbox coming to life as you drift towards the big blue button with the readily available NEW MAIL. So you click.

There’s an attached file in the email you draft.

The tutorial paper has titled t test instructions as a Bayesian approach. Just wanted to point it out and ask if I could receive a corrected version.

Regards, YN

It’s almost like you’re trying to remember how it feels like when you type an experimental m in the To bar. His name pops up immediately, email address typed out in full, full name clear on top as a regular contact.

You don’t need a suggestion to remember, his email came easier to you than your own.

But you don’t email him, backspacing till it’s empty once again.

Dr. Cho’s email sits in that place instead, a first for you.

SEND.

You don’t expect him to reply on a Sunday, in fact, you aren’t sure if he’s going to respond at all. You’ve already shut your laptop, half out of your seat in an attempt to pack up. You’re forced to consider.

Would it be terrible to go back and cc him as well?

A spiteful part of you might find joy in correcting him for a change. The rational part of you wants to actually finish the tutorial before tomorrow’s class when you’d have to tackle another beast for the rest of the week.

Sitting back down, you move without thinking. Your mind is still cooking up possibilities as you swing your screen open once again, still weighing as you click back into your inbox.

There’s a new email in your sent box after you’re done, a copy of the one you sent your professor, the same attachment and the same question; word for word. The only difference, a more familiar name in the address bar.

Before you can chicken out, you slam your laptop shut for the actual last time, shoving everything into your bag before the speeding thoughts can infiltrate your mind's barrier. You’re out the door before you know it, ready to be done with this.

You’re afraid if you put a hand to your stomach it’d be met with kicks and punches, especially with the way you feel the aggressive cartwheels slashing away at your insides. The butterflies are making it to the end of your food pipe, and you briefly wonder if you need to break into a sprint to make it to a safe throwing up zone. Your entire being jolts as you feel a buzz in your hands, a loud click that signifies a new email in your inbox.

Right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, you stop.

The grip you have on your phone is unyielding, your fingers beginning to hurt from the pressure. There’s no way to tell if you’re shaking or not, but you bring your phone to your face anyway. The screen flips on, a lone notification on the screen.

RE: Tutorial Error from Kim Mingyu

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since you sent that email, the library still in sight from where you stand. At the same time, it’s almost funny you expected any different from him.

The kicks and punches in your stomach halt, the cartwheels have calmed, the butterflies have fallen asleep. The grip on your phone has loosened, and it’s like every nerve in your body went from on fire to serenity in a whiplash inducing shift.

Clicking on the notification, the email opens.

Noted. I have another tutorial sheet for you if you want it. I’ll be in the room where office hours are held for the rest of the morning.

Kim Mingyu, T.A.

There was no way he didn’t have a softcopy he could send you in less than a minute, and you’re sure he knew you’d realise that too. You should scoff, be upset, roll your eyes.

But instead, you find your feet making a 180, turning around to go right back to where you came from. You walk, eyes still half trained on the email, reading and rereading as you walk back onto campus, towards the building you’d once considered a second home.

You walk, and walk and walk, in through the doors, up the stairs and then another set of them, you take a left and look up. The hallway is empty, the door on the right coming into view as you slow your steps significantly.

Closer and closer, you realise the light surrounding it is brighter than usual. The door is open, and you can see the empty rows of tables and chairs, set neatly against one another. It’s strange, you’ve never seen it wide open before.

Walking even closer, you can see the beginnings of the professor’s desk come into view, and it only takes you one more step forward.

Standing in the doorway now, you find yourself in the direct path of the sun that pours in through the open windows. It’s warm, but just enough to combat the cooling weather.

The desk up front is occupied, as it always is.

Mingyu is only in a t-shirt and trousers, glasses perched on his nose as he scrawls away on the paper in front of him. His laptop is turned on, screen facing the door where you stand, his inbox open and available even on the weekend.

It wasn’t that you were waiting for him to notice, but you found yourself inadvertently taking your time looking at him. Every other situation, you’d done your absolute best to avoid your eyes grazing over him at all costs, hardly drifting over his form before flitting away. You never did it on purpose, but it was more like you were unconsciously protecting yourself.

Like looking at him would only make the ache in your heart worse.

If that was the case, you would’ve been right. There’s a tug in your chest, and in that moment, it all comes flooding in like a gate destroyed.

Mingyu looks up and sees you in the doorway, standing immobile. He sets his pen down, taking his glasses off. There’s the smallest hint of a smile on his face as he greets you, “‘Morning.”

You take it as your cue to move forward, stepping foot into the patch of sun slowly. “‘Morning.”

You reach the desk, standing in front of him, the only thing blocking you being the littered table with files, papers and stationary; the trench between you both.

It’s so silent it tears at your insides, gripping the strap of your bag to have something to do.

“I, uh, double checked when I saw the email. You were right, nobody noticed in class either.” There’s an airiness in his voice, like he might be struggling just as much as you are right now.

He clears his throat when you don’t respond, looking back down at his workspace like he was looking for something. He finds a paper from some stack, handing it over to you.��

“Thanks,” you hoarse. It’s the same tutorial you had, except the instructions had been crossed out, replaced by a list of handwritten instructions instead, detailed in their annotation. You recognise it, because of course you’d recognise his handwriting.

“I didn’t have time to print one out right now. I’ll probably send a corrected copy to everyone tonight,” he explains.

“That’s alright.” You look up, lips pressed together, eyebrows forced into a regular position on your face. Nodding, you thank him once again. “Thanks again. I’ll…get going.”

Every fibre in your body screams at you to turn back around, hollering profanities at your inability to deal with this. You’re already halfway to the door though, and your pride’s already deemed it too late.

Please stop me, please stop me, please stop me, please just say something and stop me—

There it is. Your name, from his mouth, in his beautiful voice.

Turning back around is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

Mingyu has stood up from his seat, out from behind the desk. He looks like he wasn’t expecting you to turn back. “Can we talk?”

And then he’s pulling out the chair he was sitting on, presenting it like a piece offering. If you heard correctly, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice break the slightest bit when he pressed, “Please?”

So there you were, in a position all too familiar as you sit across from the man that’s haunted you for the past weeks, trying to keep your chest from falling in.

“I guess I should start with an apology,” he’s fidgeting with his own fingers. “I don’t need to give you excuses about stress or exhaustion because…”

He closes his eyes, trying to find the words. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You were only trying to help and I was too preoccupied with myself to notice. I’m sorry I spoke to you like that when you didn’t deserve it.”

For about the millionth time, you realise you’re tearing up again. He continues. “And then…right before the midterm too. You were right, I did feel horrible. But I swear that grade was all you, I didn’t touch those numbers.”

He really didn’t, because the papers he had thrust into your hands on that fateful day in this very room proved that you earned that mark. You wince regardless.

“I thought I could apologise before the exam started but I couldn’t find you, and then you were gone right after. I didn’t text or call because I was sure I’d fucked it all up.”

“I’m sorry too. For barging in in front of everyone and basically accusing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” You look up from your lap, wet lashes and all. “I really hope you didn’t get into any trouble.”

“I–no, I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I promise I didn’t.” He locked eyes with you when he said that, hoping you’d believe him. You nod slowly.

“It wasn’t even that bad, what you said,” you sniffled.

He scoffs at that, “I’d beg to differ.”

“I would’ve gotten over it,” you continue, bracing yourself to admit to something you’ve had trouble admitting to yourself. “I should’ve gotten over it. I don’t know why it hurt so much, why watching you walk out felt so horrible. But I haven’t been acting like normal ever since, and I’m sorry for stretching this whole fiasco out into something that didn’t need to turn into…this!”

“You were hurt because I hurt you.”

“People have said worse things to me. And you were practically a zombie, I should’ve just left it for another time. It was a little bit my fault too. But…yeah.”

There’s a silence as you try to remind yourself to breathe. You speak up again. “I just want us to go back to normal. I’ve missed you. Alot.”

“Me too. The go back to normal bit. And the…missed you bit.”

Mingyu’s half smiling when you look up, biting your lip hard as you try to keep a smile of your own at bay. “I’d thought if I gave up and admitted I was struggling that day, that’d be admitting defeat. That you’d think I…couldn’t do it.”

Why on earth do you care so much? It rings in your ears.

You sound light when you say it though, knowing now it wasn’t what he meant.“Since when are we on caring terms?”

Mingyu cringes. "We are. I am, at least, if you aren't anymore, which is fine. I care about you. A lot."

It’s hard to not let out a laugh. He looks half constipated as he tries to navigate his words.

“Oh well I’d hope you’d care, since you’re my TA and all.”

“Not in a TA way.”

“Tutor way.”

“Um.”

“Friend way? A human way?”

“No.”

You both know you’re being obtuse on purpose, and you aren’t sure why. Maybe you just like to watch him squirm.

“You know what?” he rasps.

“What?”

Your answer comes in the form of Mingyu lurching to grab the legs of your chair, pulling the wheels to crash into him where he sits. You’re not expecting it, the clashing legs causing you to swerve forward, hands on Mingyu’s lap.

And then his hand is on the back of your neck, and his lips placed on your own.

You’re stiff as a board, brain computing the fact that Mingyu is kissing you in a classroom.

It’s short, hardly a few moments before he pulls away. “Does that clear things up?”

There’s nothing you can do but blink at him, the reality of it all settles in. “Hm.”

He laughs at your half dazed state. It’s a purely instinctual part of you that speaks after this. “Maybe one more time. To make sure.”

Mingyu doesn’t even wait to laugh again as he wastes no time, putting his mouth on yours properly this time. There’s more of a drive in you this time, moving your mouth against his and he keeps your head close.

The ecstasy is slow but sure to build in your stomach. Mingyu is kissing you. Mingyu is sitting with you and kissing you so good you’re already half faint.

His mouth tastes like coffee and remnants of berry, a combination you can’t believe you could enjoy this much. Licking into his mouth, you let your tongue drag over his, like the tactile would convince you this wasn’t some too vivid fever dream.

He pulls away for a moment, but hardly so as his lips remain pressed onto yours.

“For the record,” he pants. “I love that you care. And I hope you’ll keep caring. Because I don’t think I can handle it if you walk away after this.”

Mouth back on his own, you decide there’s only one way to convince him you weren’t going anywhere without dragging him with you.

MINGYU'S APARTMENT IS CLEANER than you expected. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, perhaps more mad scientist than anything else. But the most you find is a mug and plate in the sink, and a moderately crowded study desk, which is to be expected.

Mingyu decided to abandon his work for the day to spend it with you, to which you contest that it was Sunday anyway. His response is making you change into something comfortable of his so you could laze on his couch.

Like you would run away if he didn’t, Mingyu keeps his arms around you in a tight hold, fingers curling around your shoulders as you lay on top of him. Your head rests directly over his heart, his cheek and lips taking turns to occupy the top of your head.

You fill him in on everything, and realise the most eventful weeks you’ve spent were actually quite uneventful in hindsight. He feels up your cheek and forehead when you tell him you got sick at one point, to which you have to reassure him it was either something going around or stress that you subjected on yourself.

“I went to a frat party,” Mingyu mumbles into your forehead. “For Halloween.”

The information has you shifting to look up at him in bewilderment, “You went to a frat party?”

He snorts, “Dressed up for it too.”

“Oh my god,” you voice in mild horror. “Do I wanna know?”

“Wonwoo and I matched,” he hums as he pulls out his phone, scrolling his gallery to look for pictures. “I was Mario, he was Luigi.”

“How adorable.”

He only gives you a look and shoves the phone in your face. By some grace of god they aren’t wearing moustaches, but the distinct red and green outfits are enough to give you enough recognition.

“Thing 1 and Thing 2 were also possible contenders,” he informs.

“That might’ve been a little better.”

“What’s wrong with Mario?” he asks sharply.

“Nothing. But I do hope you weren’t sporting an Italian accent throughout that.”

“I was,” he pushes. “A horrible one too.”

You give him the satisfaction of an eye roll.

“You could’ve gone as Peach. We could’ve matched.”

“I don’t know if I’d wanna wear any available Peach costumes during Halloween time.” You crinkle your nose as you think of all the racy costumes that unearth every October.

“Maybe in private,” he says with an insufferable smile on his face.

Placing your hands flat on his chest, you rest your chin and look up at him. “I’m not sure I want to interrupt whatever you two have going on.”

“Who?”

“You and Wonwoo, you’re practically married.”

Mingyu laughs out loud, and you can feel the rumble in his chest against your hands, his body moving against your own that’s stuck to him. “Not with whatever he has going on with his girl.”

“Oh right,” you frown in remembrance. “What happened to not understanding how he does it?”

“Hm?”

“He’s a TA too. Probably just as busy as you. You said you didn’t know how he could juggle a relationship and his job at the same time.”

His eyes spark in remembrance, pausing for a moment. “I may owe him an apology.”

“Do you?”

Mingyu frowns, “Actually no I don’t. I don’t think he and his lady are doing too well right now. He’s been insufferable lately.”

“Is it because of the TA-ing?”

“I never know with those two,” he sighs.

There’s silence once again, in the midst of which Mingyu leans over to kiss you a few times, soft and lingering. Like he’s trying to familiarise himself with the shape of your mouth, the tactile feeling of kissing you.

“Do you…know about us?” There’s hesitancy in the way you ask. But you can’t help but ask anyway.

Mingyu thinks for a moment, and it has your heart beating out of your chest. “I know that I want us to be concrete. That I wanna work around whatever life throws at us. You can decide what to call it, but I know I’m in it for the long run.”

“I’m glad you’re smarter than your husband,” you smile.

He only rolls his eyes, “He’s only good at one kind of chemistry.”

“D’you think they’ll be okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he assures. “They’re just going through a…rough patch.”

“Like we did?”

“If you’re asking me, I’d say they’re being a little more stupid about it.”

The snort that leaves you is unanimous with his own. He continues, “They’ll be okay though.”

“I hope so. I’d like to go on double dates with my boyfriend’s husband’s girlfriend.” You start giggling in the middle of your sentence, too ridiculous even for you to voice.

“This is getting weird,” Mingyu breathes.

You only hum against his mouth, “Do I have to take your husband's blessing before we can move forward?”

“For fuck’s sake.”

You’re both laughing again, a sound that comes from your stomachs, true and uncontrollable. For a moment, you can’t help but be conscious of how light you feel, how happy you feel with his scent infiltrating your nostrils, his presence known where his fingertips touch you.

“I did the sticky note thing again too,” Mingyu says into the silence, and there’s nothing you can do to stop the fit of giggles that erupt all over again.

“Said something worse this time,” he continues as you laugh into his chest. “Accept that you’ll die alone or some other shit like that.”

There’s comfort in this moment. In your giggles and in your tears, in his voice and in his affection. His lips are another sanctuary you’ve found, and perhaps even another way to make your dreaded latch click.

Nose nuzzled in his cheek, the feeling of his skin so soft against yours, fingers at his chin where a slight stubble grows, you relax in ways you cannot comprehend.

MINGYU'S LIPS BECOME A feeling you’ve grown dangerously accustomed to.

It isn’t that he has them on you too much, regardless of what an outsider might suggest; to you they simply aren’t on you enough.

The following Monday went as usual, for you anyway. You weren’t avoiding Mingyu this time, and you were grateful for it. It was two hours of following him with your eyes as he darted around the room. You could hardly constitute it as not paying attention when Dr. Cho was preoccupied with explaining every reason he hates JASP over SPSS, but also ultimately, hates them both.

You don’t even notice his loud outfit (overalls and a neon green sweater underneath), happy to watch Mingyu flit about and whisper incoherent explanations to students.

The tutorial paper is barely looked at by you, because you know your boyfriend will be happy to help you out later at his place.

You’re barely through the door that night when he gets a hold of you, tight grip across your waist as you’re catapulted into his arms, door slammed shut behind you.

Bag still on your shoulders and your shoes still on, Mingyu’s slammed his mouth onto yours before you can take a proper breath. You stumble, squealing through the kiss as you realise you aren’t escaping the iron grip he’s got on your face.

Somehow between it all, you manage to slip your bag off to let it drop to the floor of his doorway, shoes kicked off one after the other as he leads you inside, littering the way.

“You aren’t actually paying attention in class anyway,” he breathes against your mouth before kissing you again. “So why don’t you sit in the back where you don’t distract me.”

“Who says I’m not paying attention.” You open your as your back lands on the couch, looking at him as he looms overhead.

“You’re paying attention to me.”

“It was in my job description when I signed up for the girlfriend position.”

He’s all over you now, hands at your sides, mouth underneath your earlobes as he husks, “Was letting me take you in front of the entire class also a clause? Because if this goes on I might have to take up on that.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he’d been possessed, everything about his behaviour screaming the opposite of the well behaved, restrained man you’ve been accustomed to. The fact that he’s whispering directly into your ears isn’t helping either, a conspicuous shiver dragging across your spine.

It lands with precision, right at your core. You’re too hot to tell, but there isn’t a doubt you’ve begun to pool.

There’s a ding in the background.

He’s suckling underneath your ear, his hands roaming in ways that would smear your reputation altogether.

Another ding.

He’s reached your mouth once again, groping your right breast lightly. Like he’s testing the waters.

Ding.

Mingyu makes a noise of annoyance, the other hand trailing underneath your shirt.

His ringtone blares throughout the room, whoever the caller was having reached wit’s end.

“Gyu…” you whisper.

“Ignore it,” he growls. The ringing has stopped.

He ducks underneath to kiss at your stomach, lifting your shirt oh so slowly. He goes higher, and higher and higher, leaving a trail of kisses at the skin, taking deep breaths as he drags his mouth over your torso.

His phone begins to ring again.

Your head is spinning, your senses overcome. If you weren’t sure before, the air of wetness between your legs is definitely obvious now.

He brings a hand to your centre, pushing inwards at your jean clad core. You exhale sharply yet shakily.

The ringing stops.

Mingyu makes a gumbled sound that you can’t quite make out, too preoccupied with the way your shirt is now up past your bra, at which Mingyu has taken to leaving open mouthed kisses to your cleavage.

There’s a ding.

“Mingyu, I really think—”

His phone begins to ring again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he curses, rearing his head like an interrupted animal, wet mouthed and bleary eyed. He looks at his buzzing phone on the floor in an accusatory glare, like he wants to chuck it out the window and go right back to burrowing into your chest.

“You should answer.”

He looks irritated as he takes his phone in his hands, and you find a flash of Dr. Cho’s name on the screen. “It’s eleven O’clock.”

“It might be important.”

“The last time he did this he asked where his peacock feather pen was,” he grunts as he silences his phone.

You laugh, running a soothing hand through Mingyu’s hair, a tiny attempt to calm him down. Pulling your shirt down, you attempt to sit up.

Mingyu makes a noise of denial, attempting to stick his face into your now clothed chest, knocking you back down, “Nooooo, I’m gonna ignore him.”

“He’s not going to leave you alone,” you sing quietly, running your nails across his scalp lightly, holding his head to your chest. You place your cheek on his head, playing with his ear.

As if to prove your point, Mingyu’s phone begins to ring again, and he groans at the prospect.

“Go on.”

He swipes to answer it. A loud sigh and then a tired, “Hello?”

His volume is bumped up enough for you to make out what’s being said on the other line. “Where have you been?”

“It’s nearly eleven, sir. I was in bed.”

“My flash drive won’t open up on my computer.”

You have to stifle a snort.

“Is it…plugged in?”

“Of course it is, I’m not an idiot.”

“Is it showing up on your files?”

“Disk…is not…formatted.”

“Erm, it might be corrupted.”

“How did that happen?”

“Did you download something off the internet onto it?”

“Hardly matters, I need the attendance sheet on it!”

Your fingers are massaging Mingyu’s temples as you feel him tense on top of you.

“Your attendance sheet is on the teacher’s portal,” Mingyu grits before adding, “sir.”

“...I have other things on there too.”

Mingyu exhales ever so quietly and you tighten your hold on him a smidge. “This sounds like something tech support could help with.”

“Why can’t you help?” he asks sharply.

“I…I don’t know how, sir.”

There’s a noise of indignation from the other end, and you can’t help but keep from laughing.

Mingyu sighs into the phone, this time doing nothing to hide it. “I’ll take it to tech support for you tomorrow. And I’ll send you a direct link for the attendance sheet for Monday and Tuesday’s classes.”

The line beeps shut. Mingyu brings the phone for you both to see the professor’s hung up as soon as the words left Mingyu’s mouth.

“Wow,” you whisper into the silence, the weight of Mingyu’s head heavier on your chest. “Not even a thank you.”

“Absent father behaviour,” Mingyu grumbles as he moves his face to burrow into your shirt.

It’s a bad joke, but you laugh anyway.

“Will I be an asshole if I say I’m not in the mood anymore?” he murmurs.

“Absolutely not. Everything sucked right back in the minute I heard his voice on the line.”

“Gross,” he comments, but he’s laughing too.

“Should we call it a night?” he asks, rearing his head.

Nodding, you rise with him. By the time you’ve reached the bedroom, you’ve already begun taking off your accessories, fiddling with your bracelet as you voice.

“I need a shower.”

Mingyu throws you a towel and a t-shirt, which you catch and move towards the bathroom. Halfway through the door, you sneak a look at him fiddling with his belt.

“Do you wanna come in too?”

Mingyu looks at you peering through the door frame. You’ve never seen anyone leap across the room as quickly as in that moment.

THE FOLLOWING DAYS WERE just as eventful as that phone call, Mingyu running around as the midterm low passed and the line creeped up towards finals season.

Perhaps it was better that you stopped attending office hours, because the room seems to become increasingly packed as the days progressed.

You only ever saw Mingyu in the wee hours of the night at his place, where he begged you to camp out till the end of the semester so he “doesn’t move to insanity”. It might even be better for you, going about your day as usual, without the usual added distraction of a partner.

Coming home to him was easier, where he could clear up your doubts while in ratty pyjamas and starfished across the bed, where you could find solace in Mingyu’s chest without prying eyes when the information became like filling an already stuffed junk drawer.

It was a Friday night, you’re alone at Mingyu’s place sitting cross legged on the floor. The table in front of you is pouring over the final question of this week’s tutorial paper, everything seemingly whizzing right past the top of your head.

Despite that, as Mingyu stumbles inside past eleven, you know you shouldn’t ask him for a thing.

Tired was a look on Mingyu you’d gotten quite used to, so you’ve learned to not comment and simply let him fall into the couch cushions with all his weight.

His face is parallel to yours as he closes his eyes with a light groan in greeting. Moving forward, you kiss the flutter of his eyelids softly, down to the apple of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth.

Your fingers run through his tangled and distressed hair as he mumbles against your mouth. “Did you finish the tutorial paper?”

You huff in mild annoyance, that despite his state he still thinks about work. “Not yet. One last question and I’m done.”

He hums and waits a moment before reopening his eyes. With a loud groan he’s pushing himself off the couch, sliding off of it to sit with you on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“I can figure it out myself, Gyu.”

“You would’ve been done by now if you could,” he answers. It’s annoying that he says it but he’s also right.

Mingyu holds the paper a mere inch from his eyes, the sight almost comical if he also didn’t look an inch from passing out.

He mumbles the question as he reads, “It’s nothing, just worded weird. Toggle this off and move this to mixed factors and you’re done.”

The toggles are done for you, and Mingyu takes the liberty crossing he question off with a pen he finds on the table.

“Did you get everything else?” he asks in earnest.

“Hm? I think so.”

“Good.” And then he’s throwing his head back to rest it on the couch cushions behind him, breathing slowly.

He’s in a navy sweater, collar of his undershirt peeking through the top. Your gaze leads up further, to the exposed area of his throat—clean, tan and naked. You realise this might not be a good time, but it’s only natural your mind cooks up other ways to translate your helplessness as you watch your boyfriend push himself to the brink. Release is never a bad idea.

Besides, it’s a Friday night. No reason to not.

“Gyu,” you shuffle closer.

Lolling his head to look over at you, he answers in a small voice, “Yeah?”

You put on the guiltiest face you can muster, complete with darting eyes and fidgeting fingers. “D’you think…d’you think you can go over post hoc tests again?”

“Post hoc?” He furrowed his eyebrows. You bite the inside of your cheek, having blurted the first plausible model you could think of to ask him. It’s an older bit of the syllabus, something you should already be well versed in.

Not that you care what he thinks right now, he’d figure out why you were asking anyway.

“Post hoc, um,” he rubs a hand over his face as if to jog his memory.

Shifting forward, you plaster you front onto his side. He thinks nothing of it.

“Analysis tool after you’ve already run the data,” he begins.

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you let your nose nuzzle against his cheek. Trailing up, your lips find the shell of his ear.

“Results have to be…they have to be…” He falters when your hand reaches his front, running across the expanse of his clothes stomach, nails digging ever so slightly as you reach his abdomen. You continue to place open mouthed kisses at the space of neck you can reach.

“Hm? Has to be what?”

“Statistically significant,” he breathes when your palms reach the tops of his thighs. “To run a post hoc test.”

His trousers are less barrier inducing than regular jeans, something you’re both grateful for as you begin to palm his clothed bulge. “Results of what, baby?”

“For the love of—”

“Go on,” you whisper in his ear. “Please.”

One flick and his trousers are unbutton, pulling them aside as the zipper pulls open. You're pushing down his boxers when he answers you. “ANOVA.”

“What’s that again?”

“You little shit.”

You move your mouth forward to kiss him.

“Analysis of variance.”

You hum against the column of his throat at that, his half hard member in your hands. Light touches, that’s all they are, running the pads of your fingers across the pulsing length, coaxing him into full length.

“What’s it for though? We already got our results.” Bending forward, you stick your tongue to kitten lick at his tip. Mingyu hisses, hips shifting. Your tongue swirls around the tip, pushing into the skin on the head where he’s most sensitive.

“Ugh, fuck, for um,” he falters as you begin to suck at his head, tongue running over each hollow of your cheeks.

“For…for…” His chest is moving up and down in quick breathes, every sound from his mouth coming from a deep rumble in his stomach.

Letting go of his cock, you continue to pump him with your hand as you gaze up at him from your position. “For? Keep talking, baby.”

“For…To identify groups,” he grunts out. He lets out a louder moan when you place your mouth back on him, going past his tip and taking as much as you can of him into your mouth. “Identify…the differences, shit, hmph.”

He takes a loud breath before speeding through it again, “Identify which groups actually differ, oh my god.”

The bit of him that you can’t fit on your mouth is being pumped by your hands, fingers pushing into him like you were trying to indent them on the base of his cock. A glance upwards and you find his head thrown back, hands coming to tangle in your hair. His thumb caresses the side of your cheek.

“How many groups?” you ask, before diving back in.

“Three,” he chokes out. “Three or more, oh I’m gonna cum, fuck don’t stop, holy shit.”

Both of his hands are at your head, guiding you as you suck him harder, faster, more tongue digging into his slit. You hum against his dick on purpose, making sure it’s coarse enough to get the reaction you want.

You succeed, because immediately after you hear Mingyu rip out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard, his grip on your strands harder than ever. He cums into your mouth, hips stuttering as you place your entire weight on him to keep him in place.

You let some of it dribble out your mouth and back over his softening dick like a hot coating, sucking him through shooting spurts of cum that land on your tongue.

When you emerge from underneath, Mingyu looks like he got the soul sucked out of him; eyes closed, stuttered breaths raking through his entire body, a light sheen of the beginnings of sweat that glisten in the low light of the room.

Reaching for the tissue box and water bottle on the table, you soak the napkins and bring them to clean him up. He whines when the cold tissues touch him where he’s most sensitive right now, you want to kiss him but account for the cum that is actively stuck to the walls of your mouth.

You leave for a few minutes, much to Mingyu’s hoarse protests. He’s almost on all fours, hands on the floors as you promise to be back. By the time you’ve hauled his tired ass into bed, you’re just as ready to knock out as the half asleep man beside you.

Mingyu’s face is plastered into your neck, arms and legs thrown over your form as he hugs you close to him.

“I might love you,” he says into the darkness. A secret, just for you and the walls to hear.

You hide the way your heart absolutely leaps, conceal the way your hands tighten around his form into an affectionate caress, hold your breath to prevent the inevitable hitch.

I might love you too.

You hide that as well. For now.

Smiling into the skin of his temples, you sigh.

“Feel free.”

[Mingyu]: class ended early

[Mingyu]: be there in 5

[You]: ???

[You]: wdym ended early

[You]: kim did u end class early to come home

Your response comes in the form of the front door lock jiggling loudly. You’d stayed the night at his place, knowing you didn’t have anything to do but study by yourself. Sickly as you were, you doubt you could sit through two hours of even more statistics.

He’d left you in bed with a kiss, needing to be extra early since Dr. Cho decided to dump the last crucial few weeks leading up to finals season entirely on his TA. As much as there was on Mingyu’s already overflowing plate now, you couldn’t deny the elated feeling of your attendance being taken care of regardless of whether you show up to class or not.

A very real violation, but no one truly notes one skipped student in the midst of hundreds. Besides, the bag under Mingyu’s pretty eyes might be enough for anyone to have mercy and let the supposed mistake slide.

As Mingyu walks into the room, shoes flying and back dumped on the floor, he finds you still half clothed with leftover sleep in your eyes, standing in the middle of the living space like you were lost.

He drops his things to come and drown you in his arms, loud kisses all over your face as you talk. “You’re getting too comfortable with this job.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t possibly expect me to teach a bunch of half asleep idiots when my woman is all alone at home, sickly and cold without me.”

You grumble wordlessly as you feel him check your temperature with the back of his hand. “How’s the congestion?”

“Bad,” you respond nasally. “I can’t find my Afrin.”

“It’s on the bedside table, baby.”

“No, it’s not.”

Still wrapped in his hold, Mingyu begins to take steps forward that lead towards the bed, pushing you to walk backwards.

“I’m not awake enough to navigate,” you sniff.

“I’ve got you,” he lowtones, pushing backwards slowly.

The back of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back into the unmade sheets. You crawl back under the covers as Mingyu navigates between used tissues, water bottles and pills on the bedside table. But no sign of your nasal spray.

You have to breathe through your mouth and you hate it, but you send a remark his way anyway. “Told you.”

Mingyu bends down and emerges with a familiar red capped bottle. He stares at you while you stare at it, choosing to simply snatch it from his presenting hands and be done with it.

“Good thing I came back early, hm?”

“Shut up.”

He leaps over your form to claim the spot in bed right next to you, still fully clothed as he burrows under the covers next to you.

There’s nothing flattering about the way you stick the nozzle up your nostrils and sniff hard, but the gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes might as well suggest you were trying to get him to look at you like that.

“Are you gonna keep doing this till finals?” you ask throatily, shifting under the covers.

“Teaching during class time is just extended office hours, I’m gonna go insane if I keep going like this. Probably just today. Or…once more if I feel it.”

“Didn’t you say you were gonna extend office hours to Fridays too?”

Mingyu moulded himself against you, giving warmth to your shivering body even under thick blankets.

It seems throughout the course of your relationship, your time with Mingyu is either spent laying down or in the process of doing so. Not that you mind, you’ve found that remaining horizontal was what worked best for someone like Mingyu who seemed to want to fuse with your very being whenever you were together.

“Ugh, not this week. Do not have the patience.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say, eyes closed, already on the highway to dreamland.

“Thank you, I do think I’ve been very brave.” Even while slipping into dreamland, you find the good sense to find his nipple through his sweater and give it a hard pinch. He jerks away in a yelp, clutching his chest.

“What’s that for?!”

You ignore him and simply run your hand over the area you just attacked. “You’ve gotten better at knowing when to slow down. I’m proud of you.”

You’re too far gone to make out what he answers you with, but with the hot breath against your already warm forehead, you decide it's more than enough for you.

MINGYU DOES IT FOR the fourth time, but this time round he’s smart enough to not tell you.

It’s the Friday before finals week officially begins, and you remain in your own place for once to crack down on the last bits of syllabus you want to go over, away from your extremely distracting boyfriend.

There’s a text when you check your phone after a couple hours of hyperfocus, and you narrow your eyes at the notification.

It’s Wonwoo’s (actual) girlfriend, and she’s sent you nothing but a picture of both of your men on Wonwoo’s living room floor, thoroughly occupied with the floored expanse of sheets, pillows and cushions.

It’s a pillow fort.

Your boyfriend is building a pillow fort in his not-husband’s living room mere days before the final exam for the most dreaded course of the semester. All while he’s actively meant to be available for office hours.

You want to laugh. The man that stayed up multiple nights to answer stupid questions in emails, is now less than concerned about the pandemonium that is probably ensuing in the department building. It isn’t that you’re upset, because this was what you wanted from him. To learn to take a break when it was needed. But you would also prefer he’d time them a little better.

Inevitably, you text him, but not before sending an encouraging text to your girlfriend-in-law for putting up with the both of them all by herself.

[You]: where are you

[Mingyu]: where im meant to be?

[You]: office hours?

[Mingyu]: mhm

[You]: are u and ur husband conducting them under a pillow fort in his house

You imagine him sending Wonwoo’s girlfriend a betrayed look. Perhaps even throw a frilled throw pillow in her unassuming direction.

[Mingyu]: DONT KILL ME

You let him suffer in your silence, clicking your phone off and leaving it somewhere you won’t be tempted to look.

Besides, it wasn’t long before there was an incessant banging at your door that you ended up needing to get up to open. He looks so timid, the face of an innocent perpetrator that waltzes into your space.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, following you to your desk like a lost duckling.

“Whatever for?”

“For lying.”

You snort as you sift through tutorial sheets, “Might wanna take that up to the poor hopeless student that thought you were their last hope.”

Mingyu’s head sinks to your shoulder where you sit at your desk. “God.”

“Him too.”

In another few moments, his arms have come around to cage you into your desk where you’re sat, hands placed on the table as he towers over the top of your head, mouth to crown.

“Rumour has it,” he starts.

You make a face. “Now you’ve joined in on gossip? Maybe I have steered you wrong.”

He ignores you valiantly as his mouth drops lower, down to the beginnings of the tips of your ears. You can smell him. He smells good.

“That a textbook recitation is all it takes to get you all bothered down there.”

Lifting your head from its craned position over your papers, you stare straight ahead. Blank and unassuming.

“Take a hike, Kim.”

“...Sorry.”

NO MATTER HOW FAKE annoyed you were at your boyfriend, you cannot possibly credit anyone else for how smooth your finals had gone.

Not a single tear, hack or whine. Your meals were on time, your sleep schedule the healthiest it’s been for months. You even managed a movie night break in the midst of it all. A record for you.

The very first thing you do after walking out of the exam hall, stretching and sighing, you find Mingyu waiting with nervous eyes.

“Well?” he asks, eyes wide and lips pulled into his teeth.

You merely grab for his hand and pull him out of the crowded hall and past a few familiar turns.

“For the record I didn’t want some of the questions on there,” he yaps as he follows behind your stalks. “Hard ones weren’t mine. I promise I’m not a sadist.”

Then, in an un-CCTV’d corner, marked by the broken, empty vending machine, you round up on him. In seconds you’ve pulled him down to meet your lips in an eager, full kiss.

In the moments your lips remain intact, you can feel all the horrid statistical knowledge you’d gathered over the months slip out the cracks and crevices, relieving you.

Mingyu is careful to let you pull away first, eyes sticky to open when you do. There’s a smile on your face. “It went great.”

A strong tug against your waist and you’re suddenly pressed into Mingyu’s all too familiar hold, so everloving tight you can hardly breathe. His lips are smacking and pressing into your skin, all over your face, neck and hands. Anywhere he could possibly reach.

There wasn’t much he could do standing in a huddled corner at nine in the morning on a Tuesday, where anyone could pass by and question what in the high school was going on. But there was more than enough Mingyu could do behind closed doors.

In true Mingyu fashion, he’s begun to grope in every way you love the minute the lock clicks shut of his apartment, every fibre of both of your beings giddy and jumpy, giggles erupting from your tired mouths. You haven’t been touched in ages, always too tired to do anything even when you would find the time.

It isn’t remotely strange that you're wet from only a few kisses and hot breaths against your neck. Although Mingyu’s hands haven’t been modest either, already reaching your clothed cunt as you fall into bed.

He says it was your reward, for doing so good, his illustrious mouth suctioned onto your naked core, moving and grinding in ways you can more than just appreciate.

His tongue is nothing below made for you, like he knows exactly when to flick his tongue, graze his teeth and all but suck the daylights out of you. It’s marvellous, even more so as you realise he won’t stop. One, two, three mind blowing orgasms later, your legs still shake around his head as you cry out for him to stop.

Not that he was going to listen, as he did not the last fifteen times you tried, simply pushing a finger into your abused hole to chuck you into yet another climax. You’re sobbing, trembling, sweating; but also half hearted in your attempts to stop him.

By the time he’s relented, you’re sure you won’t feel a thing down there for at least a week. If Mingyu will even let you go untouched for that long.

But as you’re finally able to catch your long lost breath in bed, and Mingyu has curled up right beside you, like he always does, you let the finality of it all sink in. You were done. And so was he. And you could now begin to experience a Mingyu that wasn’t exhausted, stressed or tired. Even now, the long indented layers of fatigue begin to melt away, revealing a less strained man.

Mingyu was beautiful either way.

“Are you okay?” he asks you, his fingers tracing your features.

The pads of his fingers glide across your eyelids, down the slope of your nose, tracing the outline of your lips. You kiss his fingers as they reach you there, hand coming up to hold his wrists. You kiss the tips of his fingers, down to the palm of his hand. Eyes closed, you keep your lips there.

“More than okay,” you mumble.

“Good. Thought I lost you there.”

Stretching unceremoniously, you drape yourself over his naked form, head on his shoulder. “You’re not losing me. Not after being the sole reason I pass this devil’s module.”

“Is that all it takes? Make sure you don’t fail?”

“And give head like that.” It’s a half joke. “But also be Kim Mingyu comma TA.”

He mimics you between a breathy laugh, “Comma TA. Not anymore, I guess.”

“How happy are you?”

“Still have to grade the last set of papers. But I got what I wanted.”

“The recommendation? You deserve it.”

“That, and not having to be in Dr. Cho’s presence every other day. And you.”

You kiss his shoulder. “Look at you. All grown up with your big boy grad school on the horizon.”

“Not just yet.”

“You’ll get there too. If you can power through this hellsent semester, you can power through anything grad school applications throw.”

Mingyu shifts where he lays, taking a turn to lie on his side to face you. The afternoon sun peeks from behind his form, his outline made of pure gold. His breath is in your face as he talks, and there’s comfort in the air it penetrates.

“I only powered through this because of you. I hope you know that.” He’s smiling.

“Girlfriend duties,” you quote solemnly.

“I mean it. I knew I was walking into disaster with how this stupid job was going, all that work was just a distraction. I didn’t wanna believe this was a bad idea. And then you walked in.”

You cup his face and pout, “Oh, my damsel in distress.”

“Hm, my knight in shining armour,” he giggles. “Galloped in and saved me from myself.”

“You saved me too. From the world and its horrible creations.”

“I’ll start talking in formulas if this keeps up.”

You can only grumble in mild annoyance.

“I’m glad I asked you to come in early that day,” he says.

“I’m glad I was a good samaritan and gathered all your stuff that day.” You grin.

Mingyu leans in and kisses you. It’s soft, slow, and drips of the romance he’s trying to bring into the conversation. His lips are bliss, the feeling of him is bliss.

It’s almost scary how easily you’ve been able to give yourself to him. How quickly he’s placed himself in every nook and cranny of your heart. With his tired eyes and stronger than himself smile, the hand he extended in ways beyond you could ever explain to him. It’s terrifying when you realise what remains on the tip of your tongue, ready and bursting.

But it’s true, and you can only pray it remains that way. Because in that moment, naked and tangled between Mingyu’s limbs, his heart in your ears, your hands on his being, you just know.

“I think I might love you too.”

2K notes · View notes

couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 3 months ago

Note

I really loved your scenario of The Justice League AND The Ill reader,Lmao, poor reader they only need a rest.

Anyway, ever since I read the first part I was thinking about the kids, you know, the League Sidekicks, obviously The Reader knows them, due to work (I can really imagine Batman introducing His kids to the Reader to force a bond , And obviously The rest of The League does the same) So I had the headcanon that the reader really likes the children, they talk to them after missions, sometimes they buy them some gifts for their birthdays, they listen to them when they complain about their father figures (Therapist Reader), etc. But at the same time I can imagine The Reader being totally uncomfortable with his parents, so I can't help but think of a scenario in which The Reader is talking to the League kids in a good mood, but the League members walk in. to the room (They obviously saw the Happy Reader, so they want to gain some advantage) And The Reader just turns off, goes into business mode and is curt as always with the league, and when he finishes talking to the league, he goes back to talking to the children and their mood is happy again. Man I would love to see the league's reaction to the obvious reader favoritism

PD:I really love your work, you are amazing

Pd2:If The kids are yandere, ITS UP to you

A Week in Life: Take Your Kid to Work Day

Synopsis: A week in your life where you get a lot of new little friends, even if you know something’s sketchy about it.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Yanderes! Robin (Dick), Superboy (Konner), Miss Martian, Kid Flash (Wally) and Aqualad (Kaldur'ahm)

Tw: A single implication about Hal’s past dub/non con incidente (blink and you miss it); Implied emotional manipulation, I guess? Justice League using kids as a manipulation tactic; A little angst, I think we all hate how Superman treated Conner, so I added that, so technically not a healthy relationship between them here, could be interpreted as Superman manipulating him or Superboy trying too hard to make his bio-dad like him; The kid’s ages are definitely not accurate canon wise, but what is canon anyway? I mixed their personalities and origins from Young Justice (along with their age gap) and for Superboy it was mainly the animated movie Reign of the Supermen; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 3,3k

Requested? More than once.

Extra notes: Dick is 10, Kaldur'ahm, Conner, Megan and Wally are 13. I wish I knew more about the Wonder Girls to write about one of them, I felt bad for not adding them, but I would’ve felt worse writing for a character I have no idea how to write.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— I wasn't aware that there was a Take Your Kid to Work Day on schedule... — You said in a surprised, maybe taken aback, tone, if not a little strangled and sarcastic, even if a little happy. You rubbed your forehead, you knew your hunch was right…

Monday…

You’ve heard the rumors Gotham media was spreading for months now, you even asked Batman if you should prepare the marketing team in case of an emergency, he denied everything.

So why was it that now you were staring at a 10 year old dressed as a traffic light?

— Miss/Mister/Mx (Y/N)... I’m hungry… — Worst of all? The kid was cute.

You smile in a friendly manner.

— Okay, okay. Just give me a second, buddy, I need to talk to your… Dad…?! — You just now realized you didn't know their actual relationship. Batman only told you his name was Robin, that he was his partner, and that he was in the watchtower to observe. You didn't know superheroes accepted 10 year old interns, but whatever. The kid just stared blankly at you, not giving an actual answer to if you got your assumption right.

— Can I go with you? — Robin fiddled with his fingers. So cute. You nodded with a small smile. The kid jumped off his too big chair and ran towards you, surprising you by taking your hand. He had small hands. So cute.

You walked slowly, to accommodate to his height, in the direction of the door to the briefing room, where Batman was talking to John Stewart. This other Green Lantern was a breath of fresh air. The other one (the one who shouldn't be named) was away, working on another district of the universe since that whole… Less-than-consensual situation. You were happy and surprised when the League didn't just brush it off, and even compensated you for it, alongside making him go away. He either agreed to that, or caused the 3rd World War against the Justice League. It was a temporary predicament, but happier nonetheless, since John wasn't obsessed with you, unlike the rest of them, and easy to work with.

You cleared your throat so they would turn to you.

— Does Robin have any restrictions? He said he's hungry so I'm gonna take him to the kitchen. — You said politely. Batman shook his head.

— Just don't give him sugar. He needs to sleep before patrol tonight. — You raised your eyebrows in surprise and nodded your head. Batman looked at the boy. — Behave, chum. — You blinked, Robin nodded solemnly.

As you walked in the direction of the kitchen, the kid showed to be very happy and talkative. You were surprised, considering who his dad was, but it warmed your heart. At least it seemed he wasn't mistreated.

At some point, he let your hand go and started cartwheeling and doing acrobatics all the way there to show off his abilities to you. You gasped and clapped, praising his talent along with other workers from the crew who were passing the hall. You were slightly worried that he would fall and get hurt, but the kid was really confident in what he was doing (but they always are, until they fall).

When you got there, you were impressed that he wasn't even the slightest out of breath.

— Do you have games on your phone? — He asked, sitting down on a table while you rummaged the fridge for some sandwiches or any healthy snack, since you didn't know how his home diet was, but guessing by his build, which was a lot more athletic than kids his age are, he was probably pretty healthy. Son of the Bat.

— Hmm, I have Dress to Impress, Pou and Candy Crush.

— What is Pou? — Your heart panged and you sighed, feeling old.

— When were you born? 2010? — You walked towards him and settled a plate with a sandwich in front of him, before pouring a cup of juice.

— 2014. — Your mouth dropped, speechless. — Wait, so not even Stardew Valley? — You cleared your throat and shook your head, sitting beside him, while he started eating.

— Wait, can I even let you play? Does Batman let you have screen time? — He nodded.

— I have a phone. I just couldn't bring it with me today… He said he would show me around the tower, but he got busy with work… — He deflated a little at the end of the sentence, your heart broke. — Anyway… He told me I could distract myself. I just need your permission. — You bite your lip.

— Okay. How about we go to the recreational room and you can play some videogames while I work from the computer. — Robin nodded eagerly.

— Damn, you can't even play with me? Working sucks. That must be why adults are so boring. — You took a napkin and cleaned some food from his cheek.

— It's not that bad… You can do whatever you want. — He perked up.

— I guess so… — He looked you up and down. You prepared yourself for one of those moments where kids are so blunt that they don't know they could offend someone. — But you're not boring, (Y/N), you're cool. Must be why daddy likes you so much. And he doesn't like no one.

Tuesday…

Wow, what a weird coincidence. Just yesterday Batman brought his kid, and now Martian Manhunter brought his niece.

Miss Martian looked older than Robin, but again, she was a martian, her appearance was shifted to whatever she wanted to look like. All you knew was that she was young and new on Earth.

Right now, she looked very human. She had freckles and auburn hair. The only thing that made her stand out was the green of her skin.

When she presented herself to you, you got startled by her voice in your head, but you and Martian Manhunter softly explained to her that on Earth people didn't communicate through their minds, and it was kinda like an invasion of privacy. Kinda funny hearing him say that, but whatever.

Like Batman the day prior, Martian trusted the girl in your hands. So many coincidences, right?!

— So, honey, how old are you?

— Oh, on my home planet I should be about 39. But converting to Earth years, I’m 13. — She said with a shy but friendly smile, you smiled back.

— You’re pretty young then. How are you settling on Earth? Planning to go to school maybe? — She nodded.

— I just started the school year… I wasn't too sure about that, but my uncle said it would be good to learn human behaviors. — You nodded.

— American school is nice, I recommend you should take part in clubs. And don't feel pressured to make a billion friends. It's better to have one good friend, instead of 10 people you know but can't rely on. — She nodded, biting her lip.

— I already know some of the other sidekicks, I just don't have any civilian friends… I was thinking about joining the cheerleading team. — You gasped, excited.

— Oh, that's really good! I always wanted to join, but was never the sporty type. You’re sweet, I think that already gives you some points. — Her green cheeks got darker.

— You think so?! — Her voice got louder with excitement.

— Of course! Now let me give you some tips about the jocks, honey…

Wednesday…

Today, Flash brought Kid Flash. You haven't met him until now. The sequence of days the older heroes brought in their sidekicks was starting to look weird… But not that weird. Batman said he would give Robin a tour but became unavailable. Manhunter wanted Miss Martian to meet civilian people and have a good role model — you don't know why he decided that that role model should be you, but it made sense, so… —. Flash Said they would spend the day using the lab to experiment some more on Kid Flash’s still recently acquired powers. So. Coincidences, right?

The boy was 13 too, he had messy red hair and green eyes. Flash didn't specify their relationship, but their personalities definitely matched a little. Both a little hyperiperactive and smiley. Although that could be more of a speedster thing, especially the first part.

Like promised, they spent half that day on the lab, occasionally calling you for snack breaks. However, at some point, Flash gave an excuse and left you with the kid.

Huh.

— Sooo, what do you do around here? — Kid Flash asked, spinning around in a chair he found somewhere and rolled to the middle of your office in the blink of an eye. You half-smiled. It was nice not being crowded by those weirdos and being around fresh and youthful people, but it was starting to feel weird.

— I plan schedule appointments, organize team meetings, prepare agendas and itineraries, book meals and travel arrangements, handle record keeping and documentation, and make sure a project stays on budget. — The ginger blinked and stopped spinning.

— Uhh, you went to college for that? — You blinked.

— I did, why? — He chuckled slightly.

— Nothing, it's cool, sounds boring, though. — You nodded.

— What do you want to work with? — He looked to the side, thoughtful for a moment.

— I think I want to be a scientist.

— Oh really?

— Yeah, I like physics, mechanics and a little bit of chemistry. — You smirked.

— Chemistry? Sounds boring. — Kidflash froze for a second, wide-eyed, then relaxed and started laughing loudly. His chuckling prompted you to chuckle alongside him.

He used his feet to push the chair around your table and stopped at your side.

— Hey, can I see how much people get paid here? If I'm gonna be a member of the League one day, might as well optimize time and just work here. — You slapped his hands away when he reached for your computer, he pouted.

— Wouldn't that make it difficult to keep your secret identity hidden?! — Kid Flash stretched his arm, then draped it across your shoulders, you lifted an eyebrow.

— Babe. I'm a superhero. I could change clothes really fast right now and you wouldn't even notice. — You scoffed and lightly pushed him and his chair away.

— A phone booth would be more appropriate for that.

— What's a phone booth?

Thursday…

Superman brought Superboy.

Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?

You didn't even know they were close! Sure, Superboy is Superman and Lex Luthor’s clone, the whole world knew that, and that Superboy took to Superman's side. But they were never seen together, unlike Flash and Kid Flash, or Batman and Robin, for example.

Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!

And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!

The silence was awkward for a few seconds. You thought back to the personality he showed when he was first announced by LexCorp, when Superman was considered dead. He was all over the media (Lex’s marketing team was good) with his charisma and flirty personality. Although he kept the leather jacket, his quietness surprised you.

You cleared your throat.

Superman brought Superboy.

Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?

Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!

And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!

You cleared your throat.

— So… Are you hungry? Wanna play videogames? — You grimaced slightly. He looked at you again, a little hesitant.

— Uh… I think so? — He blinked. — You guys have videogames here?! — He exclaimed, surprised. You chuckled.

— Oh yeah, for such a serious and stern guy, Batman really invested in the work environment. — You chuckled together, walking towards the recreational area.

You were curious about the earlier weird vibe, but didn't want to prod.

At first, you just let the boy play by himself, just sitting beside him and working while talking, that was until he paused the game between missions and stretched, then looked at you.

— Are you guys involved? — You looked at him with your eyebrows raised.

— You guys…? — He pursed his lips.

— You and Superman. — You grimaced slightly.

— Oh no, he's my boss, and not my type at all. — He nodded, looking pensive.

— He likes you. — You kept a blank expression, waiting for him to continue. — I like you too, so I can imagine why he likes you. — You stared at him, exasperated. He widened his eyes. — Not like that! — He raised his hands to deny. — It's just- I feel comfortable with you. I felt comfortable with some of his friends before, I didn't even know why, but I think it's because half of me is from him. Like I have some things from Lex since I was… Born… — He looked to the ground for a second, pouting lightly. — That's why Superman doesn't like me. — You widened your eyes.

— I'm sure he likes you! — Superboy looked at you like he didn't believe you.

— No, it's okay… He's polite, I guess. And took me in as his family, just not… As his son… More like a brother, or… A cousin… I mean, I can understand, I'm basically a hate baby, created by his biggest enemy to outdo and destroy him… — You shook your head.

You didn't know what to say, since you didn't know how their dynamic was like.

— H-He brought you here to spend time with you, didn't he? He just had an emergency to take care of… — He looked to the ground and then at you again. He didn't have the heart to tell you that's the first time they ever “hung out”, and that his genius brain clocked hours ago that Superman's plan was to create a connection between you both by orchestrating a connection with you and him. He also didn't want to bad mouth Clark. A part of him always would have hope that Superman would want to be closer to him one day.

Superboy looked at the clock and then at you.

— Don't you have a break? I can hear your stomach, I'm hungry too.

Friday…

This madness has to stop now.

— Nice to meet you, Aqualad. — You nodded at the boy with a small smile. You were a little mesmerized by his exotic appearance. He had brown skin, blonde hair in braids (where are his roots?) and blue eyes. His arms were also covered in tattoos that you knew had something to do with his abilities.

— I was showing him around the Watchtower, but now I have a meeting with Wonder Woman, why don't you two hang out for a while? — Aquaman, always the most obnoxious one. Their intentions were 100% clear now.

Aquaman didn't let you say anything else and left the room with said hero. You heard her murmur something about having to find her own apprentice to bring to the watchtower as soon as possible.

You looked at the boy, not knowing what to say.

— Have you ever been to Atlantis? — He surprised you by speaking first, his tone was gentle, if not a little monotonous, but he looked at you with interest.

— Uhhh, no? I’m not that good of a swimmer and I can't breathe underwater. — Aqualad smirked lightly.

— You wouldn't need to worry about breathing, there are multiple ways for humans to do that, from magic to technology. As for swimming… I'm sure we can find some sort of solution for that, also. And I doubt my king would be opposed to the idea of teaching you. — You nodded slowly. So much for subtly.

— … My vitamin D is low enough as it is, I’d rather stay on land, no offense. — The atlantean opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. — Aqualad! Do you like the food here? I've always been curious about your culture’s cuisine…

You kept talking for hours, eventually, Aqualad and you ended up in the training room, he offered to show you a little of his control over water bodies, and you, still a little fascinated over the convivence with superheroes, and this being the second time you met someone from Atlantis, accepted eagerly.

— This is just like H2O… — Kauldur’ahm blinked.

— It is water… — The boy confirmed, hesitantly. You laughed.

— No, no, not water. It's a TV show, it's about mermaids. I guess it isn't exactly accurate, but they can control water, just like you! — He nodded, slowly, contemplating. You looked at your watch, noticing your lunch time was due. You looked at him, shyly. — If you're up for it, we could watch it now… — That seemed to make him perk up a little and he nodded quickly.

— I would like to.

Monday…

There they were, in the meeting room, all seated around the big roundtable, almost double the number of people who usually sit there.

Now, the food order they made, made sense.

You pushed the food cart forward, one for Flash. You came back and pushed another one, this one for Kid Flash, you ruffled his hair. Then, you walked back and pushed the 3rd food cart around the table, delivering each meal for each hero.

— Steak for Green Lantern. One black coffee for Batman. One meat sandwich and chocolate milk for Robin. — You squeezed his cheek. He smiled brightly at you. — Toast for Martian Manhunter and a slice of strawberry cake for Missy Miss Martian. — As you put the plate in front of her, you whispered that you wanted to know how the cheerleading team was going. She nodded happily. — A burger with fries for Aquaman, a smoothie and salad for Aqualad. Oh, did you change your hair? I like it! — You smiled brightly at the boy and his cheeks burned, he nodded. — Ice cream for Wonder Woman. Another burger and fries for Superman and another for Superboy. I see you followed my advice, your style really matches with those piercings. Tell me how you did it later. — You laughed carelessly and went to the door. — Need me for something more? — Your bosses shook their heads, stunned. You left and closed the door.

— Can't believe you guys actually did it… — John shook his head, disappointed at his teammates.

— I knew it would work. — Batman said, sipping from his drink.

— That's why we stole your idea when we knew about it. — Aquaman chuckled.

— I really need to find a sidekick. — Diana huffed.

Batman turned to Robin.

— You did a good job, chum. — Dick chuckled.

— Yeah, I even asked for a sandwich without the crust. Now (Y/N) think I'm the cutest here. — He smirked smugly. Wally scoffed.

— Yeah, right. She totally doesn't think you're an annoying kid. — The duo stared at each other. — I, for example, made them laugh. — The redhead puffed his chest proudly.

— Are you sure it wasn’t a pity laugh?! — Superboy snorted at Robin’s retort.

— Although Robin might be physically more adorable, and Kid Flash, in his words, made them laugh. (Y/N) and I started a TV show together, my king. — Aquaman nodded at his apprentice’s words.

— You did a good job.

— But (Y/N) actually said they wanted to talk to me later! That usually oficializes human’s friendships! — Megan said, softly.

— They said the same to me, the other day. That I could talk to them whenever I wanted… — Superman looked at Superboy, surprised. He felt awkward praising him, so he just nodded his head and looked away. Superboy pouted slightly.

— Because you told them your sob story, now they think you're a loser. — Conner glared at Dick. — Their physical language showed that they loved me, B! I honestly deserve an Oscar after that performance! They're gonna be ours before you suckers know it!

As a screaming match raised inside the room, the adult heroes looked at each other, lost for words, not only had the kids gotten you roped a bazillion times faster then they could ever dream, but also you were so amazing that they were enamored with you too.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months ago

Note

Can you write modern Jace being a blind king? Those glasses looks THICK. Maybe reader come to his dorm and see him with his glasses?

Request: Roommates college au where there’s a mixup with the dorms and they end up in the same dorm. Imagine rooming with Jace? He’d be so cute and maybe a little nerdy idk. She moves out but they become friends…and then more than friends

The second request has been sitting in my ask for a long time (sorry). I watched Insidious: The Red Door the other day and it gave me inspiration for it (I had planned to add smut in this one but it didn't end up fitting and my laptop didn't save a few of the scenes I had written so I had to rewrite them...not as good or cute as the first time)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When you arrived at your assigned dorm, there were already people there. One was a boy with curly hair, and the other a woman with white-blond hair. Their backs were all turned, so they didn’t see you come in with your suitcase.

‘’No, Mom, you don't have to do that. I can do it myself,’’ he said, trying to stop her from unpacking a box. ‘’Classes don’t start until Monday.’’

‘’But I want to help you settle in,’’ she insisted, taking a lamp out of the box and setting it on the nightstand. ‘’My first boy is leaving for college. This is difficult for me, Jace. Let me at least help you with your bed. No one makes a bed better than a mother.’’

Jace sighed in defeat and moved out of her way so she could make his bed. ‘’Okay. Thanks, Mom.’’

She grabbed sheets from another box and began making the bed. ‘’Where are your brothers and father? Taking the last boxes out of the car shouldn’t take so long. I hope they didn’t get lost on campus.’’

You watched them with jealousy, wishing your parents had dropped you off at college too. It was a rite of passage for freshman students. But you understood that your parents had jobs they could not take days off from.

You stood there for a moment before clearing your throat to announce your presence. ‘’This is room 309?’’

Jace’s mom looked up first, giving you a kind smile. ‘’Oh, hello there. Yes, this is 309. Are you looking for someone?’’

‘’No. Eh, this is my dorm,’’ you said with a frown, holding your paper in your hand. ‘’It says 309.’’

Jace turned around, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘’That’s impossible, there must be a mistake. This is a boys hall, and boys and girls aren’t supposed to room together. It’s nothing against you, I personally don’t see a problem rooming with a girl. It’s just…not permitted.’’

‘’I know. But it says here that this is my dorm.’’

‘’Let me see that paper, sweetheart.’’ The blond woman looked at your paper, her eyes reading the information slowly. ‘’Oh, no. You’re right. There must be a mistake on the college’s part.’’

‘’You should go to the housing office,’’ Jace suggested with the same kind smile as his mother. ‘’They’ll switch you to another hall.’’

You nodded. ‘’I’m gonna go and see if they can solve this issue. Can I leave my suitcase here?’’

‘’Of course.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The line outside the housing office was crazy due to the hoard of students coming back, so you didn't get back to your dorm until well later in the evening. There were no voices coming from inside your dorm, meaning Jace's family must have left.

You knocked before coming in, not wanting to walk in on something you should not be seeing. But Jace did not hear you, laying on his bed with a book and headphones on. You didn’t take him for a reader, nor a glasses wearer.

‘’What did they say at housing?’’ he asked, taking down his headphones and shutting his book.

You walked over to the empty bed and fell down on it, exhausted. ‘’They basically said sorry for the inconvenience and that I gotta sleep here tonight. But I’ll get a new room tomorrow, so it’s not a permanent thing.’’

Jace hummed. ‘’Do you need help settling for the night?’’

You shook your head, standing. ‘’No. I’m just gonna get my pillow and blanket, and change into pajamas. There’s no point unpacking when I move again tomorrow.’’

Your suitcase was heavy, so you lowered it on the floor and grabbed your pillow and blanket, then rummaged through your suitcase for your pajamas. As you held up your shorts and a tee shirt, you remembered that this was a boys' hall, meaning the bathrooms would be full of boys.

Jace seemed to read your mind. ‘’Eh, I can turn around so you can change,’’ he offered. ‘’I promise I’m not gonna look. I can even take off my glasses if you want, I’m blind as a mile without them.’’

You chuckled at his offer. What a gentleman, you noted. Making sure you feel comfortable during this inconvenience. ‘’That's okay. Just turning around is fine."

He nodded and turned his back to you, facing the wall. ‘’You’re in art school?’’ he asked, making conversation as you changed so it would be less awkward. ‘’I've seen your sketchbook and art supplies beside your suitcase. Not that I snooped through your things. I promise I didn’t.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ you replied, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. It felt daunting to be topless in the same room as an almost-stranger, but you tried to not think too much about it. ‘’And you’re in...?'

''Political science,’’ he finished. ‘’My grandfather went to this university, so I’m following his footsteps. I’m also taking a side class in History for personal pleasure.’’

Political science was not what you expected him to say, but it made sense. With his glasses, he had the politician look — minus the sweats and tee shirt.

What kind of weirdo takes a history class for fun?

‘’I know what you’re thinking — history is boring. But I love learning about the past civilisations and how ancient monuments were built, it’s so fascinating. Like the Moai Statues, the Giza pyramids or the Colosseum of Rome.’’

‘’Have you ever visited one of them?’’ You slipped into your pajamas, and threw your dirty clothes on top of your suitcase.

His lips curled into an excited grin. ‘’I have! Last year, my family and I went to Italy and my dad took me and my brother Luke to see the Colosseum. It was magnificent. I took pictures. Do you want to see?’’

‘’Sure.’’

You sat back on your bed and Jace turned back around, reaching to grab his ipad to show you the pictures he took. His passion for history could be heard as he talked about the Colosseum, telling you facts you had never heard of. Eventually, the pictures came to an end, and Jace accidentally swiped too far, showing you a picture of his brothers and him making faces in Italy.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You didn’t think so many people would be up early on a Saturday. The queue at the campus café was insane. All for a coffee and a bagel.

As you walked across the quad, trying to get to the bookstore to get everything you needed for Monday, flyers were being shoved into your face, advertising for clubs, frat parties and sorority houses who were scouting for new members. You were not interested in any, but they were not taking no for answer.

A neon party? What year were they stuck into?

You threw all the invitations in the trash.

On your way back from the bookstore, you received an email from the housing office with your new dorm information. You could move in immediately, but needed to stop by for your new key.

So that's what you did.

You couldn’t wait to get to your new dorm and finally shower.

‘’You’re already going?’’ Jace asked, coming in with a paper bag containing lunch from the café you went to this morning.

You nodded, finishing zipping up your suitcase. ‘’I’m not going too far, though. I’m just a floor up, right above you, so if you jerk off or have a girl over, remember that I can hear all.’’

Jace’s cheeks turned a shade of pink, getting flustered.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Although you had moved out, you found yourself standing outside your old dorm a few days later.

‘’Howdy roomie,’’ you said when Jace opened. ‘’Let’s go out, I’m hungry.’’

Before he could say anything, you stepped in as if it was still your dorm and sat on the empty bed that used to be yours. They must not have found him a new roommate. On the desk, you noticed Jace’s laptop was opened along with his textbook.

The brunet frowned, clearly confused by your presence. ‘’Eh, what are you doing here?’’

‘’Taking my roommate out for pizza?’’ you replied. You had not eaten since that granola bar at lunch and your stomach was screaming.

‘’We’re not roommates anymore.’’

You rolled your eyes. It was a minor detail. ‘’I know, but you’re the person I’ve spent the most time with since getting here and I don’t feel like going out to eat alone. Please, Jace,’’ you said, pouting to put all chances on your side.

He was taken back. This wasn’t a common occurrence for him. A girl knocking on his door and asking him out — platonically or not.

His frown disappeared, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘’Fine,’’ he sighed. ‘’I’ll put on my shoes.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Getting pizza after class on Wednesday became a weekly rendez-vous. You sat at the same table, ordered the same toppings — pepperoni with extra cheese and red bell peppers —, and talked about anything but school. You made it an official rule on your fourth date when Jace spent the whole time biting his fingers and worrying about a paper that was due at the end of the week.

Pizza dates were your special time to unwind and stop thinking of schoolwork.

As you both settled into your usual spot, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. Early autumn rain was the worst. The weather was too warm to carry around a jacket, but when you didn’t have one, rain would randomly start pouring.

You took a second slice of pizza and glanced at Jace. ‘’I’m gonna need your help for a project for my art class.’’

His eyes widened slightly, and he quickly swallowed his bite of pizza. ‘’Nope!’’

You frowned at his immediate refusal. ‘’You don’t want to help me?’’

‘’No! That’s not that,’’ he assured. ‘’Didn’t we make a rule that we would not be speaking of school while eating pizza? You’re breaking your own rule,’’ he pointed out.

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in the booth. ‘’I know… But Mrs. Rosenberg told us this afternoon that we needed a model for our proportion piece and I didn’t want to forget about it. All you have to do is sit and look pretty while I draw you.’’

Jace raised an eyebrow. ‘’Oh, so you think I’m pretty?’’ he teased, stuffing a huge bite of pizza in his mouth before you could swat his arm.

You rolled your eyes and took a bite of your own slice. ‘’So, will you be my model?’’

He thought about it, a slight pout on his lips. ‘’What’s in it for me?’’

‘’Extra time with your favorite roommate?’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘’Is this okay? I have a red polo somewhere. Maybe it would look better?’’ Jace asked as you laid out your art material on the second, unused, desk.

You shook your head, and started propping up your small easel. ‘’You’re perfect like this.’’

He nodded slowly, his cheeks flushing a bit as he settled into position by the desk lamp you had priorly angled. The silence between you was comfortable as you began tracing Jace's features on your canvas, and you took a moment to really look at him — his curly hair, the faint freckles across his aquiline nose, the highlight of his pouty lips, and the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his tee shirt.

He was nervous. You immediately picked on it when you came in with your canvas and art supplies. His demeanor was different than usual.

‘’Can you move your head slightly to the left?’’

Jace complied, the dull yellow light of the lamp hitting exactly where you wanted it. Now, you could see all the angles and edges of his face.

‘’Yes! That’s perfect!’’

You continued tracing the contrasts and outlines of your model's face, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Jace found it cute, but he kept it to himself.

The afternoon passed. You painted and mixed colors on your palette, lost in your creative bubble while Jace was trying his best to keep his posture...which was starting to ache. Sitting completely straight for hours was more difficult than he thought.

As you were working on his complexion, you stole glances at your ex-roommate, trying to get every detail on your canvas, and noticed him shifting slightly, uncomfortable.

‘’You know,’’ you began, breaking the silence. ‘’You don’t have to stay completely still like a statue. Feel free to move a little or adjust. I'll tell you if it doesn't work for me.’’

Jace gave a small laugh, the sound light and nervous. ‘’I’m not really used to this… Playing the model.’’

‘’I think you're doing good. Just...a bit stiff.’’

You continued painting him until the sun began to set, then called for a much deserved snack break. Jace pulled out a pack of Oreos from the snack box in his closet and your eyes turned into hearts. They were your favorite.

‘’You really know the way to a girl’s heart,’’ you said as you took a third cookie from the pack.

Jace smiled at you, pleased to see you enjoying them. He took a fifth one and chewed slowly as crumbs fell on his shirt. Oreos were messy. ‘’My mom sent them to me in a care package last week. I need my sugar to stay focused when I stay up late doing schoolwork.’’

Your heart melted at the sweet attention from Jace’s mother.

‘’How is the painting going?’’

‘’It’s coming together nicely. But it won’t be finished tonight. Painting takes a while. Especially portraits,’’ you replied. ‘’I need to get every little detail right. From that one curl that’s almost poking you in the eye to the dust of freckles on your nose.’’

The brunet’s cheeks flushed a bit at your words. He was not sure what to do with the feeling bubbling up in his stomach. Was this a compliment? Gods, he sucked with girls.

You stayed in Jace’s dorm until one of you began yawning and it was time to call it a night. He helped you put your painting supplies away and even offered to clean your brushes in the boys’ bathrooms. This guy was a true sweetheart.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The following afternoon, you approached Jace's dorm, your painting supplies tucked under your arm. A lot of students used their Sunday to do their laundry, so you hoped he was there. You should have texted him before coming.

You were about to knock, fist raised, when you paused at the door, hearing the faint sound of a facetime conversation coming from inside.

‘’She’s not my girlfriend. Shut up, Luke,’’ Jace's voice came through, tinged with frustration.

You could imagine his cheeks heating up.

‘’You go on dates all the time…and you said she was cute, and talented, and funny,'' Luke's voice, younger and teasing, said, recalling everything.

You should feel ashamed for eavesdropping on a conversation about you, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, butterflies filling your stomach. Jace had talked to his brother about you? If Luke assumed you were his girlfriend, he must have talked about you more than once.

‘’We’re just friends. I don’t have time for a girlfriend anyway. I have a lot of schoolwork,’’ Jace interrupted, his tone firm but slightly defensive.

‘’Nerd,’’ Luke snickered.

You didn’t meet him on moving day, but you assumed he was the kind of brother who loved to tease his siblings. From what Jace had told you, he was quite the little troublemaker.

A few doors down, a guy walked out of his dorm with a bag of dirty clothes and sweatpants low on his hips, and stared you down as you stood in the corridor. He was walking your way, so you took this as your cue to knock on Jace’s door. The sound echoed throughout the quiet corridor, louder than you intended.

‘’Ohh is that your girlfriend?’’

‘’No, it's...pizza delivery. Tell Mom I’ll call her tonight,’’ he added in a softer tone.

You heard movement inside and soon Jace opened the door, greeting you with his usual bright smile. He had glasses and gray sweats on, meaning he had likely not left his dorm at all today.

‘’Hey, you’re here! I was starting to think you made other plans…’’ Jace said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

‘’Never,’’ you replied, walking past him and setting your things down like yesterday. ‘’Besides, I need to bring in my final piece Wednesday morning and I still have a lot left to paint. It would have been a poor choice to not come.’’

Behind you, Jace nodded. ‘’Eh, should I change into the shirt I had yesterday? Because I slept in and didn’t do laundry.’’

You shook your head. ‘’The color of your shirt does not matter. I’m still painting your pretty face.’’

Jace smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly; it was a nervous habit he had, you had discovered. ‘’I’ll go sit at my spot, then.’’

‘’Have you taken a peak while I was not there?’’ you asked as you placed the canvas and easel in front of your chair.

You glanced over at him, half-expecting a guilty grin, but he shook his head, his dark curls bouncing slightly. ‘’No. I want to be surprised.’’

You finished setting your stuff up quietly.

The sky was gray today, clouds hanging heavy as if threatening rain, so you were thankful for the artificial light you chose to use yesterday. Natural light is great, but frustrating as it changes with time and weather.

When you began mixing colors and painting, you felt Jace’s shy gaze on you. His eyes would dart away when you almost caught him, pretending to be interested in something else, only to glance back at you a moment later. It was a silent game, one that made you smile every time you almost caught him.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

About an hour into your painting, rain started to fall heavily and the sky began to shake with thunder. It echoed loudly around the room, causing the lights to flash.

You were used to rain and thunderstorms, so you didn't think this one was strong enough to cause a power outage, but after an especially loud crack of thunder, the whole dorm went dark.

‘’I guess that’s our cue to stop for today,’’ you said with a small laugh, barely able to see your canvas in front of you. You sighed, slightly frustrated by the interruption, and put your brush down on the easel.

Jace moved to his window, seeing the pouring rain and an impressive lightning flashing in the distance. ''Looks like it's not going to let up anytime soon.'' He glanced at your face, but was blinded by the brightness of your phone’s light.

You quickly apologized, laughing. ‘’I didn't mean to do that,’’ you promised.

He glared at you and went back to his bed, rubbing his eyes. ‘’It’s worse with my glasses. I can’t see.’’

You laughed harder, directing the light to the ceiling so no one would be blinded by it. ‘’Do you think the university has a generator?’’

‘’For the academic buildings, not the residences. It would take a massive one to provide power to the whole campus,’’ Jace explained, finally starting to get his vision back. ‘’We’re stuck in the dark until it gets back.’’

You sighed and abandoned your side to move and sit on Jace’s bed. You could have gone back to your dorm, but you would be sitting alone in the dark. He turned his head to look at you, noticing you sitting on the edge of his bed, and moved back to make more room for you. You smiled, a silent ‘thank you’.

Thankfully, it was only mid-November, so it was not that cold. But it will get cold eventually if the power goes out for too long…

After a few hours, the power was not back. And the room had gotten a little cold, so Jace offered you one of his hoodies. It was gray and felt like a blanket on you. And it smelled like him — woodsy and comforting.

Through this long darkness and silence, you found yourself thinking about the conversation you heard when you came to his dorm. You figured it was heavily influenced by the hoodie enveloping you.

‘’Jace?’’

He hummed, sitting in his corner against his pillows.

The words vomited out before you could stop them. ‘’Why did you tell your brother that you didn’t have time for a girlfriend when you spend all your free time with me?’’

The brunet was taken aback by your question. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. ‘’W-what?’’ he stammered, his cheeks flaming. ‘’How do you know—’’

‘’I heard you on the phone earlier. I didn't mean to listen, I just…did.’’

Jace cleared his throat and spoke quietly, his voice strained and embarrassed. ‘’You weren’t supposed to hear that...’’ He looked away from you, avoiding your gaze. ''What else have you heard?''

A lump of guilt knotted inside your stomach for putting him on the spot like this. ''Not much. A guy walked out of his dorm and was staring me down, so I knocked on your door to get away,'' you explained in truth.

There was a moment of silence as Jace picked at his fingers. He was still embarrassed, but he needed to push it to the side and make something useful out of it. ‘’I told Luke I didn’t have time for a girlfriend because I don’t know how to have a girlfriend. I mean, I do know the principle. I just…don’t know how to talk to girls.’’

You smiled, finding his honesty adorable. ‘’You’re talking to me now,’’ you said with a hint of amusement hiding behind your words.

‘’And it’s exactly the problem. We’re just talking,’’ he muttered more to himself than to you.

‘’Would you like us to do more than talking?’’ you asked flirtatiously, extending an invisible hand for Jace to grasp.

Slowly, his gaze shifted back to you. ‘’It depends what you mean by more than talking…’’

There was another loud crack of thunder, echoing and shaking the walls. The loud noise made Jace jump slightly, nervous from the proximity between you. He tried to brush it off, but you grinned and inched closer to cup his face.

''Tell me if you want me to stop.''

His eyes found yours and he gripped the blanket, needing something to grab to take his nerves off. ''I don't want you to stop.''

You leaned closer, your hand still on his cheek, and pressed your lips onto his. The touch of your lips sent a jolt of electricity up Jace's spine. He gasped, having never felt so much from a simple kiss, and kissed you back without hesitation, his lips plush but chapped against yours.

More lightning pierced the horizon outside the window, but you were too lost in each other's lips to notice. Jace's hand that was not grabbing the blanket came to rest on your hip to pull you a little closer. He was gentle and inexperienced, you could feel it in the way he was touching you.

You pulled away to catch your breath, but a needy whine left his lips, grabbing your hip with more force and pulling you back in. He was not done kissing you.

When night came and the power finally returned, you didn’t go to your dorm. You borrowed one of Jace’s tee shirts and slid under the covers with him. You both had classes at 8am, so you simply laid together, Jace’s head on your chest while you gently rubbed his back and slowly fell asleep.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

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#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon #jacaerys targaryen #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #hotd

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aquaticmercy · 2 months ago

Text

Under My Skin

Summary : Bucky is always ready to give his girl cuddles.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : fluff. Sam being a good wingman.

Requested by : @sergeantbarnessdoll

Word count : 1.5k

Note : I am currently writing this while dyeing my hair red since my irl boyfriend and I are going as Bucky and Nat in the Hellfire Bar from Thunderbolts 2023 comics for halloween (he has long hair, blue eyes, and a scruffy beard. Uh oh I have a type). Enjoy!

Requests are open!

○support my ko-fi○

This week has been long-drawn and exhausting. The world seemed to be conspiring against you and all your efforts. You barely made it through work, and everything you did felt like one never-ending task after another. By the time the weekend finally arrived, all you wanted was to be cocooned in a fuzzy blanket and do nothing until Monday came.

There was only one person in the world who could provide that: James Buchanan Barnes.

You had been dating super soldier for almost a year now, and while you were past the initial nerves of a relationship, there was still something magical about being in his presence, and you were certain it would ever end. There was something in the way he looked at you with those sky blue eyes that made you feel like you were everything that mattered in his world.

Bucky had always loved spoiling you with his affection, and you would never complain about it, but sometimes, his 40s self would kick in, holding back PDA to a proper amount when all you really wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms and forget about everything else.

Today was one of those days.

It was early afternoon, and Bucky had just returned home from a training session with Sam. He looked a little worn out but still full of energy, you knew he’d recover in no time. He invited Sam back for a drink, and though he had also become a dear friend to you, you could not wait till he walked out the door.

With Sam around, Bucky’s affection became restrained, especially since they were talking about work things. Bucky was always a little tense when it came to that subject.

“Psst,” you whispered from the side of the couch you were sitting on as Bucky excused himself to use the toilet. “Sam.”

One of Sam’s eyebrows raised, leaning up from the armchair he occupied. “What?”

“Look, you’re a great guy and all,” you began, smiling to let him know you meant no harm, “But you’re taking my boyfriend away from me.”

Sam was clearly entertained by your attempt to be diplomatic. He crossed his arms over his chest, giving you a playful look. “Oh, I see what this is. You’re kicking me out, huh?”

“Not kicking you out.” You corrected, smiling sheepishly. “Just… nudging?”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “I get it. He can be caught up in missions sometimes.”

You sighed, knowing Sam was right. No matter what, Bucky always had that serious, brooding nature, especially when it came to this line of work.

“I know,” you glanced over toward the hallway where Bucky had gone, lowering your voice. “He doesn’t know how much I need him right now. I just want him to myself, you know?”

Sam studied you for a moment, a gentle smile forming on his face. “He’s not the best at picking up on those cues, is he?”

You nodded.

“Alright, alright. I hear you,” Sam said, “I can be subtle. Don’t worry, I won’t let ol’ Buck figure out what’s going on.”

Your eyes lit up, thankful you had a friend on your side. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Just remember this when I need you to get me out of babysitting your super soldier boyfriend,” Sam stood, stretching his arms overhead, “He has a tendency of blowing random shit up on covert missions, and I have to justify all the damage to Ross.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you watched Sam walk toward the door. He called out loud enough for Bucky to hear, “Well, I’d better get going. Got stuff to do— important Avenger business.”

Bucky reappeared from the hallway after you heard a flush, his brows furrowed. “Thought you wanted to hang out for a while.”

“I’ve been here long enough,” Sam waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, you know how it is— people to see, world-saving to do.” He gave Bucky a casual grin, one that didn’t betray a single hint of the conspiracy between you two.

Before Bucky could answer, Sam added, “I’ll see you both later. Oh, and Buck?” Sam leaned in, lowering his voice so only Bucky could hear. “Take care of her.”

Bucky’s expression softened, glancing at you. “I always do.”

With that, Sam made a quick exit, leaving you and Bucky alone at last.

You watched him lock the door from the couch, shrugging and not suspecting a thing. He then made his way in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water, his back turned to you as he unknowingly teased you with the way his shoulder muscles moved beneath his fitted shirt.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, slumping further into the couch, hoping he would notice, now that his friend wasn't keeping him preoccupied.

He didn’t.

You sighed louder, more dramatically this time, and when that still didn’t get his attention, you resorted to your favourite tactic: being whiny enough to still be adorable, and only annoying enough to get his attention.

“Bucky….” you called, dragging out his name. “I’m lonely.”

He turned around, leaning back on the kitchen counter. His eyebrows raised, amused. “Doll, I’m right here.”

“It’s too far,” you pouted. You crossed your arms, scrunching up your nose in a way that you knew would pull a tug at his heartstring. It was his weakness. “Come cuddle.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He walked over to the couch, setting his glass on the coffee table. “Someone’s a little needy.” He teased.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day,” you whined again, reaching out and grabbing his human hand, pulling him toward you. “It’s been forever since we cuddled.”

Bucky chuckled. To a degree, he enjoyed keeping you begging for his affection, even though you knew he’d give it to you freely. “We cuddled this morning, darling.”

“That was this morning,” you argued, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes.

He chuckled again. The sound was deep and soothing, blanketing warmth around the room. “Oh, so one cuddle a day isn’t enough for my girl?”

“Nope,” you said, emphasis on the ‘p’ sound. Tugging on his arm, you attempted to pull his large frame onto the couch with you, though your tired strength was no match to his.

Still, Bucky played along, letting himself be dragged down until he was sitting beside you. He draped an arm around you, but not fully embracing you yet.

You weren’t satisfied with that. You wriggled onto his lap, straddling him and pressing your forehead against his, your noses brushing together. His hands instinctively rested on your hips, steadying your frame.

“You’re lucky I’m such a sucker for you,” Bucky murmured, burying his head on the crook of your neck.

You smiled sweetly, wrapping your arms tightly around his form. “Does that mean you’ll give me all the cuddles?”

“Of course, doll.”

Satisfied with his answer, you rested your head on his broad shoulder as his strong arms circled around you. His metal arm was cool against your back, his other hand was comforting as it rubbed soothing circles against the small of your back. You let out a content sigh, melting into his sweet embrace.

Bucky squeezed you as he breathed in your sweet, flowery scent. “Rough day?” he asked as you felt his voice reverberate throughout his chest.

“Mmm-hmm,” you mumbled, nuzzling further into him, if that was even physically possible.

Bucky’s chest rumbled as a soothing chuckle escaped his lips. His fingers continued tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re really not gonna let me move, are you?”

“Nope,” you said, your voice muffled. After a few seconds, you shifted slightly. “Actually,” you started, “this isn’t close enough.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “How much closer can we get?”

You tilted your head, as if pretending to think. “Well... maybe if we were cocooned in a blanket. And you were lying down. And also, you could wrap your arms and legs around me like a human pretzel.”

He playfully rolled his eyes but obliged anyway. He'd do anything for his girl.

He leaned back on the couch, pulling you down with him. You made yourself comfortable, sprawling over his chest like a tabby cat as he tugged a nearby throw blanket over the two of you.

“There,” he said, pulling you even closer. His arms circled around your waist, legs tangled comfortably. “Happy now, clingy?” he teased.

“Almost,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I just need you to hold me a little tighter.”

Bucky tightened his grip very slightly.

“More,” you whined, shifting in his grasp.

He pretended to sigh dramatically, but his smile was obvious as he squeezed you. He enveloped you as tight as he could, careful not to hurt you. “You’re gonna disappear if I keep this up.”

“Exactly,” you mumbled, snuggling into the crook of his neck. “I just want to be under your skin. Is that too much to ask?”

Bucky kissed your forehead. His lips lingered for a second as he muttered, "You’re already under my skin, doll." He said, his voice brimming with affection. You could tell he meant it, and in a good way. "And I wouldn’t have it any other way."

-end

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distantdarlings · 1 year ago

Text

HOUSE PRIDE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Heavy sexual material, degradation, name-calling, jealousy, fem reader, language, dom!Theo--honestly, this is just depraved

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Pyramids - Frank Ocean

---

You pressed your face to your hands, breathing deeply. You couldn’t believe what you were fucking hearing. The pounding in your head refused to subside as he kept demanding an answer.

“Hello? Do you wanna explain why you were practically throwing yourself on Riddle today at lunch?” the brunette demanded, his eyes widened and wild. Your hands dropped and you made eye contact with the boy. You were in disbelief.

“Throwing myself at him? You dick, I tripped and fell on him! That’s just number one! Number two: you are not my fucking boyfriend,” you shouted, “I can throw myself on whoever I want, whenever I want!”

Theo locked his jaw and pursed his lips slightly. A tell of his that meant he was very angry. He didn’t usually speak much after he pushed past this point. More like, just crossed his arms and stared at you, eye bordering on twitching. You scoffed and held your hands out, waiting for a response from him. He said nothing.

“I don’t need you to tell me who to give attention to, Theo. You are not my boyfriend, I am not your girlfriend. I tripped and fell against Mattheo this morning and we both laughed it off, so why can’t you?”

“You just tripped and fell on him and his hands landed on your ass? Oh, whoops, just an accident!” he mocked you.

“I don’t know if his hands were on my ass or not, he may have been trying to stabilize me as quickly as he could—but besides the point, who gives a fuck if he was touching my ass? It’s not like you’ve been too eager to do anything anytime soon!” you shout, blood rushing through your ears and cheeks. Shit. You did not mean to say that. His head shot back and his eyes widened slightly. You kept the anger imprinted on your face to attempt to hide the embarrassment you were feeling so strongly. Hopefully, he would think this was a super-confident confession written in a rage. Still, he said nothing.

“Oh, forget it! To hell with you, Theo!” you screamed, grabbing your robes and running out of his dorm room. He said nothing and made no move to stop you. Your feet carried you down the hallway and into your own room.

None of your roommates were here. You figured they were all in different dorms, preparing for the common room party in a few hours. Once every couple of months, some of the Slytherins—usually seniors—will get together and prepare a “house” party. They’re always fun, high-energy, and filled to the brim with Slytherin pride. Merlin, you loved them.

You had originally declined to go tonight. You had some leftover work that was due on Monday and you almost thought that Theo would invite you to Hogsmeade or something, but you should have known better than that. It seems all he’s concerned about is his reputation.

You tugged through the buttons on your uniform top and ripped it off your shoulders. You pulled your skirt and socks off, holding the end of your bed for balance. There were a couple of nice outfits shoved in the trunk beneath the bedframe—you figured something in there would do. You reached up and let your hair down from its elastic, allowing it to fall to its natural length. The ends of the waved strands tickled your skin as you yanked the trunk into the open. Inside were a couple of different combinations, all saved up for special occasions. And if anyone asked you, making Theo Nott as jealous as you possibly could was a very special occasion.

Your eyes fell on a specific top. A long sleeve, skin-tight sweetheart neckline that plunged a little deeper than it should, and a flared, darkened skirt. You reckoned it was simple and sexy. It practically bled Theo’s name all over your body, claiming you as his, though you pretended like you hated that. He never needed to know it, but you secretly loved how jealous he became when you had the smallest interactions with other people. You blow a curled hair out of your face. The fucker could have been running down the halls with a red tapestry taped to his back and you still wouldn’t call him a red flag. He was just what you wanted; what you’d wanted for years. Whether or not he’d ever actually act on your feelings for each other, you belonged to him and he belonged to you.

You slipped the outfit on, mussed up your hair a bit, and applied a light layer of makeup. With the two tests, three project due dates, and eighteen assignments you’d had this week, you could use a bit of a touch-up. Hopefully, you didn’t sweat it off by the end of the night—though, that was sort of the goal.

You grabbed your wand and slipped it into your back pocket, patting it twice for good luck, and pushed through the dorm door. Down the hallway, you could hear the faint pounding of music. Your heart raced, keeping in time with the deep bass pushing past the walls. Was this a good idea? For a few moments, you stood in front of your door, pondering your options. Your plan for this evening could either end really well or really badly or you could avoid the possibilities completely and stay in like you originally planned. A deep sigh left you as your eyes slid closed. Who cared? This was your life and, you’d said it earlier, Theo was not your boyfriend and you intended on finishing what you’d started with Mattheo earlier this morning.

Deep cool colors swirled throughout the common room, echoing off of every shadow and highlight in the moulding. Everywhere you looked there was another Slytherin scarf or Quidditch team hat. One boy even wore a Slytherin flag around his neck like a cape. You laughed at the absurd outfit. These parties were most definitely one of the best things about being a Slytherin. Say what you will about the house, but they could throw a fucking party.

You slid through swaying bodies, feeling the bass echo deep in your chest, rattling your ribcage. A couple of your friends were scattered throughout the crowd and slipped in gracefully with their personal friends. As you passed by them, they waved or flashed you a bright smile, all of which you returned. You would come back and talk but, for now, you were looking for someone specific.

There was a table set up in front of the fireplace, decked out with green and black decorations, and overflowing with tall glasses of firewhisky. Your eyes skated along the length of the furniture until it reached a familiar body. You smirked and grabbed a drink before making your way over.

Enzo stood against the edge of the table, discussing something with one of the “bartenders.” When you stopped in front of him, his lips ceased and his eyes found your chest, then your eyes. His lips remained parted. Sweet, sweet Enzo.

“Hey, En, I was wondering if you’d seen Mattheo, anywhere?” you smiled. He said nothing for a few seconds before stuttering back to life like an old car.

“Uh, no, I haven’t seen him anywhere…uh, why do you need—um, I mean, did you need to talk to him?” he stumbled, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets. The boy he’d been talking to—some fifth-year—snorted and rolled his eyes, turning away from the two of you to pour a couple more drinks. You stepped closer to Enzo, feeling his body heat on you. The shoes you were wearing granted you a couple more inches of height, which, consequently, put your hairline just above his. His eyes were angled slightly upward as he watched you.

You waved him against you. He leaned in. The confidence burning through you tonight was more than you’d felt in a long time. You felt hurt and angry and frustrated. You could fix one of those quickly. You traced the skin above his ear, pushing a small tuft of copper hair back. A small shudder went through his body as you pressed your lips against his ear.

“I just wanted to dance and was looking for a boy who’d dance with me,” you said slowly. “I thought Mattheo would be the best but maybe you could…you know…”

You pulled away and smiled sweetly, placing a deep innocence into your eyes, watching as his lips parted and closed multiple times. You tilted your head to the right, allowing your eyes to switch from his eyes to his lips ever so briefly.

“I haven’t seen Mattheo, I’ll dance with you,” he said, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. You smiled brightly and grabbed one of the hands hanging limply by his side. You felt his warm skin beneath yours as you tugged him toward the center of the dancing mass. You were pretty sure you recognized the song playing and proceeded to work all of its beats throughout your body, encouraging Enzo to join you.

“Come on, En!” you laughed. “You’re supposed to dance with me.” He seemed to shock out of a momentary stupor. You felt good tonight and you hoped it was showing on your face and body. He still didn’t move and you reckoned he was going to take some physical guiding.

As the song slowed slightly, you grabbed both of his hands and slid them around your hips. His breath shuddered through his lips as you began moving the two of you. You dropped your hands to his belt and guided his hips a bit, biting back a smile. He had all of the facilities for these particular…activities, he was just really nervous. Soon enough, though, his hips were moving on their own.

You turned around and placed your back against his chest. Without prompting, his hands dropped down to your hips, gripping them firmly. He moved you against him to every beat of the song. To be honest, he was placing a little bit of blush in your stomach. One of your arms raised to wrap loosely around his neck.

“That’s it, baby,” you cooed in his ear, cradling the base of his neck with your hand. One of his hands raised to hold your arm against him as the other stayed intact on your hip. A crooked smile found its way onto his lips as the both of you felt every rhythm the other was putting out. Fuck, maybe you’d picked the wrong boy all along. The way Enzo was grabbing your hips and ever so slowly grinding against your ass had your lips parting in a slow gasp.

“Like this?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Merlin, help you.

If anything could have pulled you out of your current situation, it was the burning eyes you felt against you pouring into your skin like a brand. You gasped a bit and looked away from Enzo. Almost immediately, you found Theo’s eyes on the two of you. Enzo noticed your sudden change of attention and glanced up, finding the older’s eyes. Like he’d been branded himself, his hands faded away from you and, almost as quickly, so did he. Fucker. So much for sticking by you.

You were used to it by now, though. Where you were involved, Theo was, too. Even though you weren’t actually together, everyone knew you were Theo’s. Anytime you were hanging out with another boy, he always found out. Even if it was just for a school assignment.

His jaw was clenched and ticking. His eyes were lidded and ice-cold, angled right at you. You rolled your eyes and huffed, stomping off through the crowd. He couldn’t get whatever he wanted all the time. He needed to pick. He needed to officially claim you as his, take you on dates, buy you gifts, and all that nonsense or he needed to leave you the hell alone. He couldn’t have it both ways.

You finally came upon the end of the crowd and the staircase leading to the girl’s dorms. You hurried up the steps, not even caring if he was behind you or ignoring you or with a different girl.

The hallway was completely empty, everybody down at the party or taking an early night. You rushed across the winding floors, trying your best to get to your room before Theo changed his mind. You just wanted to get out of your clothes and makeup and go to bed. Your dorm door appeared around the corner followed by an immense sense of relief.

Your hand closed around the doorknob and—a hand closed tightly around your arm and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as the perpetrator slammed you roughly into the wall just beside the door. It was Theo. He was livid, his breath coming out in hard slants, and his eyes so darkened they appeared black. You swallowed thickly, your breath rushing out of you just as his was. The two of you heard your hearts pounding in tandem.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, his face inches from yours. Your eyes glanced down from his to his lips, watching the changes in his anger. He waited impatiently for an answer for too long before you realized it wasn’t meant to be a rhetorical question.

He grabbed your arm once more and pulled you away from the wall. A swift flick of his wand and a fury like no other, and he was pulling you into your empty dorm room. It was almost completely dark by now.

“You want some attention, huh?” he said, casting a flame into the stove set in the middle of the room, his grip on your arm never weakening. He slammed his wand down on your bedside table and pushed you onto your bed. You fell roughly against the mattress, your hands holding you up into a sitting position. He stared down at you wildly, like an angry parent.

“Answer me,” he growled. Your eyes bore the same innocence you’d given to Enzo earlier and you knew that he’d only last a few minutes like this. Already, his facade was flickering and his gaze was softening.

“I just—I don’t know, Teddy, I—”

“You just, you—you, you…fucking spit it out,” he mocked you. Body betraying your mind, heat pooled in your lower stomach as his face got closer and closer to yours and he got angrier and angrier. If it was anyone else, you’d have gotten embarrassed or angry but with Theo…it was a different feeling.

“All out of confidence, hmm? What happened, baby, you had plenty out there when you were grinding your ass all over Lorenzo Berkshire in front of everyone!”

“What’s wrong with Enzo?” you squeaked, your thumbs rolling over the other.

“He’s not me, you stupid girl,” he roared, his words perking your chest. You pressed your thighs together discreetly, never losing eye contact with him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you.

“Are you serious? Are you fucking turned on right now?” he asked. He had seen you. You didn’t say anything. His hand reached around and roughly gripped your hair, his fingers tugging deliciously on your scalp. He held your head back.

“Answer me, baby,” he whispered, his voice a thousand times different. “Does it turn you on when I shout at you? When you get me jealous and worked up?” The way he was looking down at you had you gulping against the strain being placed on your throat. You nodded.

“God, you’re so fucking pathetic,” he laughed darkly, the sinister tone in his voice echoing in your stomach. His hand let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw tightly. He held your face up so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“Maybe I need to remind you who you fucking belong to?” An eyebrow quirked. You nodded once more, anticipation hitting you like a train. He smirked, releasing your jaw by pushing you back roughly. Your back came into contact with the bed, the material nearly knocking the breath out of you.

He crawled over you slowly, letting his lips ghost over your exposed cleavage, neck, chin, lips. He paused and allowed his breath to pour into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, the scent of it burning your lips. He pushed his tongue out and gently traced it over your bottom lip. Your lips parted in a gasp at the contact. Just as soon as your mouth had opened, his had covered it, suffocating all breath. You moaned into him, feeling the way his body held you tightly against the mattress.

You raised your hand to place your fingers beneath his shirt, but one of his hands reached down and grabbed yours with a speed your intoxicated brain wasn’t capable of comprehending right now. He raised them above your head and held them with a grip like a vice, his fingers violent and unyielding. You’d definitely have bruises in the morning.

You bucked your hips against him, trying to illicit some contact between your core and his. He grunted at the touch before pulling back and roughly turning you over, pressing your chest into the mattress.

“Don’t fucking do that,” he growled into your ear, still holding your hands tightly above you. “Do as I fucking say. I’m going to pull this skirt up and I’m going to fuck you and you’re not going to say a word but my name. Do you understand me?” You nodded frantically, impatiently waiting for some contact.

“Keep your hands there,” he instructed as he slowly let them go. You curled your fingers around the edge of the bed to keep them locked in place. You didn’t dare disobey him.

Behind you, you could hear the clink of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his jeans and dropped it to the floor. The anticipation was killing you, your thighs pressing tightly together for a chance at some friction. The heat between them was beginning to become too much.

He pressed bruising kisses along the side of your neck, trailing them down your shoulder. His teeth cut along the flesh, ripping blacks and blues into the sensitive skin. You whimpered at the feeling, knowing good and well he just wanted everyone to see whose you were.

His fingers ghosted along the outsides of your thighs, tracing the chills that appeared in their wake. You shuddered against the sheets, waiting to feel everything he was about to do. You couldn’t see any of his movements and, for whatever reason, that amplified the feeling by a million.

There was a moment of nothing except for the sound of rustling clothing. No part of him touched you and you found yourself becoming more and more desperate by the moment. You reckoned he was removing unnecessary items of his outfit but if he didn’t do something soon, you were going to start pitching a fit.

Then his thumb pressed against your thin undergarments, right where you needed him the very most. An awfully audible moan left your lips and your spine arched against his touch. Merlin help anyone who walked by this dorm or, worse, tried to come in.

“Please, baby,” you sighed, your fingers clenching tightly against the mattress. His hand roughly grabbed your hair once more, tugging your head back.

“My name only, you dumb slut,” he insulted before pushing your head back into the sheets. One hand held your head to the bed as the other lined his hips up with yours.

No matter how many times the two of you did this, you’d never get used to it. He was just so much better than any of the other boys in school. And there were a lot of them too. None of them felt like Theo and he knew it, too. He knew that you would always come back to him. He was impossible to leave. His touch and rough, degrading words were addictive and you couldn’t stay away from him. Your friends had told you over and over again that you needed to drop him and completely move on but you just couldn’t. He was the closest thing to a drug you had.

He tucked a finger beneath your undergarments and slid them over to the side. He placed a hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he ordered. You complied. He spread the material over his fingers slowly, coating each one thoroughly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand disappear and reintroduce itself with your core. The tips of his soaked fingers skirted between the slit of your skin, lathering you in his touch. Just as he’d instructed, his name poured from your lips like a prayer.

He pulled his hands away and quickly replaced them with a dark, warm heat that pressed into you agonizingly slowly, stretching every part of you out.

“Fuck, it’s been a while,” he groaned breathlessly, pushing into you until he bottomed out. His lips curve just above your ear, every moan and whisper touching your mind like a soft hand. As he began to move, they became louder and made less sense to either of you. His name curled around the room. You worshipped him. The reverence you placed on every syllable touched his chest and slid down to his core. He gasped into your ear. You sounded so fucking good.

It didn’t matter if he fucked every girl in Hogwarts, none of them could ever compare to you.

“Theo, baby, you feel so good,” you screamed, the words vibrating your skin.

“Yeah, baby?” he breathed. You moaned aloud as he pressed an especially sharp thrust against you. “I know, I know.”

“Please, please, please,” you babbled, your words pathetic and useless. His hips never ceased their brutal pace.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “Are you my girl? Or are you Enzo’s?” He growled the last part, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair. You yelped at the feeling, tilting your head back to relieve some of the pain.

“No, no! I’m yours, Teddy, I’m all yours, please,” you begged.

“That’s right, baby.” He released your hair. Every movement of his body brought you closer and closer to your end. His hands gripping your hips and pulling himself toward his own, his lips curling against your ear, his weight holding you perfectly in place.

Neither of you would last much longer and you both knew that. Every deep push of his hips drove you further into your pleasure as you began to close around him, gradually coaxing a release out of him. One of his hands dropped down to trace tight circles against you, ignoring the way your hips quaked to get away from the overstimulation. You were done for.

Every sound pouring from his lips began to mingle with yours a bit closer as he pushed you through both of your final breaths. His hips got slower and his grip loosened on your waist. The loss of his support sent your weakened body falling back down to the mattress. A breathless chuckle came from him as he laid down beside you, his shimmering skin luminescent in the moonlight. You presented him with a tired smile.

“Could Enzo fuck you like that?” he asked, a proud smirk imprinted on his lips.

“I don’t know—I’ll let you know when I find out.”

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #hogwarts fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle

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ashwhowrites · 2 months ago

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eddie munson x cheerleader/popular reader, where the reader keeps asking eddie out on a date but he keeps rejecting them because why would a popular person want to be with him. Anyways, maybe something happened that made him realize that he believes them and would like to go out with them.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Asking me out?

Y/N recently grew a crush on Eddie, the town's freak. She never saw something in him before, but all it took was one moment for it to change.

It was a Friday night and she was freezing her ass off on the field. But a big fake smile plastered on her face as she did the cheers. She let her eyes wander as the game played, and then she saw Eddie. He stood off to the side smoking a cigarette, she was surprised he wasn't asked to leave. He had one hand in his pocket and his hair was covered with a black beanie. He must have felt her stare because he looked in her direction.

She froze as she couldn't look away, his eyes kept her in a daze. His eyes warmed up her body and she felt her face burn when he winked.

That was all it took, that night she dreamed about it and woke up with the biggest crush she's ever had.

When Monday rolled around she had a skip in her step. She wanted to ask Eddie out, she knew she'd sound crazy with it coming out of nowhere but who cares.

She found him at lunch and walked over to his table. A big smile on her face as she stood in front of him. He was so cute that it made her want to giggle for years. She was shocked that the girls didn't see how attractive he was.

"Can I talk to you?"

His table went silent

Eddie looked at her confused

"Me?" he asked, pointing to himself, her eyes never left him so it was clear who she meant. But he had no idea why.

She grabbed his hand and lifted him from the chair, he looked over at his friends as she pulled him into the hallway. She dropped his hand and turned around to face him

"I'm Y/N," she said as she smiled

"I know," he said, "I mean! I'm Eddie," he stuttered

"I know," she said with a small wink. Eddie wasn't sure if his heart racing was a good or bad thing.

"I saw you at the football game on Friday, and this might sound very forward, but I think you are insanely attractive and I'd love to go out on a date with you, maybe tonight?"

Eddie felt the need to clean his ears because there was no way Y/N, the prettiest cheerleader, asked him out. He stared at her like she had multiple heads, and he had a feeling it coming out of nowhere was a trap. He would love to say "hell yes" but he was tired of being burned by people.

"I can't tonight, I have to babysit," he lied

"That's okay, how about tomorrow?" she asked

"I babysit all week and the weekend. You know, parents have kids but never want to take care of them," he nervously laughed

Y/N felt blown off and had a bad feeling he was lying. She was disappointed but she shrugged it off.

"Have fun, Eddie. Maybe another time," she spoke quietly, far less enthusiastic than before. And that made Eddie feel like shit.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, watching as her shoulders slumped as she walked back into the cafeteria.

~~~

In case he was telling the truth and had to babysit, she tried again for that "another time."

"Hey Eddie, do you want to get a bite to eat after the game?"

"I have to be home right away, I'm sorry"

And then she tried another time, and another, and another. He always seemed to be busy. But she really liked him and she wanted to try one last time.

Eddie was sitting against the school's building as he waited for Wayne to pick him up, his van decided to not start and left him stranded.

Y/N walked over, standing at his feet.

Eddie looked up as a shadow covered him. There she was, beautiful as ever. She made Eddie nervous and he didn't like to be nervous.

"What are you sitting out here for?" she asked, Eddie could feel his stomach flutter when she smiled.

"Van died so waiting for my ride," he shrugged

"I can give you a ride, and as a thank you for it maybe we could get ice cream?" she offered, more shy each time since she knew he'd say no.

"He's already on his way so you don't have to worry about me," he said as he stood up

"What about just ice cream then? I can pick you up." She kept trying and he kept shutting her down

"I'll probably be in the shop with my van, but once it's fixed I should have some free time, I'll find you."

~~~

Eddie arrived in his van a few days later, and he never talked to her. It hurt to admit, but he was never going to say yes and she had to move on.

He found her eyes and quickly looked away, when he looked again she was gone.

A few days passed and she stopped walking up to him. Sometimes they'd make eye contact, and she'd smile and then look away. Anytime she walked in his direction he held his breath, letting it free when she walked passed him.

He missed talking to her, even if it was always two sentences. He liked having her attention but he was scared of what would come after if he said yes. Would a bucket of water be dumped on him? Was it a bet? Would he find himself shoved in a closet and beaten up?

It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

Eddie was walking to his campaign when he walked passed the gym and heard his name.

He peeked inside to see Y/N and Chrissy stretching. Eddie was a simple guy so he had to take his time looking at Y/N as she sat in her uniform.

"Are you going to try again?" Chrissy asked, her hand stretched out to her feet

"No," Y/N sighed

"What? But you really like him!" Chrissy gasped

"Chris, it's clear he doesn't like me. I can count the amount of times he said no on two hands. I'm done embarrassing myself. It's a crush, I'll get over it," Y/N shrugged

"Yeah, but you haven't liked a guy in a long time! Are you sure you want to give up?"

"I know you are trying to be a good friend, but you won't change my mind. If he liked me, he would make time work in his apparently busy schedule. I'm probably not his type and that's okay." Y/N explained, mostly trying to make herself feel better.

"You're right, but his loss because I know a ton of single guys who have been asking about you!" Chrissy gushed

Eddie was leaning so far that the door opened and he fell right through. He cussed as he landed on his stomach. The fall caught the girl's attention and he blushed in embarrassment.

"Eddie? Oh my are you okay?" Y/N asked, rushing over

Chrissy was behind her, a look of worry on her face

"I'm good," he said through clenched teeth. He moved to his knees and felt soft hands helping him stand up. Once he was on his feet he wanted to run.

"Were you pushed?" Y/N asked, worried he might have been getting picked on.

Eddie couldn't tell which was less embarrassing

"Uh no, I was eavesdropping, and well karma," he said as he brushed his dirty hands against his jeans. Chrissy nodded and backed away, giving them privacy to talk.

"Oh! So you heard all of that, huh?" Y/N asked, groaning in embarrassment

"Yeah and look I'm sorry I kept rejecting you. I wasn't sure if you were serious or not and I was a little scared," Eddie said

"Scared of what? and why would I be lying?" she asked

"You're popular and I've never had a popular girl take interest in me that wasn't for some type of joke. I figured you were asking me out as a joke or to set me up for something. And I'm sorry for assuming, I didn't know you genuinely like me."

"I can understand that. I hope you know that I'd never do something cruel to anyone. I'm not like that," she explained

"And I believe you. I know I kinda had a million shots to go out with you and I fucked them all up. But can I make it up to you?" he asked, hope in his eyes as she smiled

"Are you asking me out, Eddie?" she teased

"I am," he said as he smiled, "What do you say?"

"I think I'm busy for the whole year, sorry," she said, Eddie stood shocked as she turned around and walked away.

He felt his body slump at the rejection, but he guessed he deserved it. He turned around and headed out of the gym.

He made it down the hall when he heard his name being called, he turned around.

"That's for saying no. But I'd love to go out with you," she said as she walked towards him

"I did deserve that," he laughed but walked towards her, "tonight after practice, we can grab that bite to eat?"

"I'll see you then," she said with a smile. She leaned in and pecked his cheek softly.

Eddie blushed as her lips touched his skin

He watched as she walked back to practice, head in the clouds.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson x popular reader #eddie munson x cheerleader reader

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chaosandmarigolds · 7 months ago

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currently thinking about how Simon Riley loves plans-

Simon Riley! Who plans the day he wants to kiss you, plans out the perfect day of the week and has a plan b in case the weather isn’t right

Simon Riley! Who can go off plan if need be but he is not doing it unless he has to

Simon Riley! Who chose a Friday, because in his brain it made sense ‘give you the weekend’ to think and get back to him on Monday

Simon Riley! Who spent the day as he normally would, watching you as he intended to, taking you to that coffee shop you like and then that bookstore you swore was ‘underrated’ (highest grossing in your town)

Simon Riley! Who planned on carrying all of your book bags so of course he brought that tote you bought for him months ago

Simon Riley! Who planned the time of year so it would be a perfect time to sit in the park and look for butterflies

Simon Riley! Who when the moment finally happened and you were standing before him, a beaming smile on your face- froze

“Si?” You furrow your eyebrows and then move your hand to tap his cheek from over the face mask. He was holding conversation not even five second ago, his hand resting comfortably on your hip (something you were actively leaning into) now it like actually speaking to a ghost. “Simon?”

“Love.”

To the name of endearment you falter and tilt your head, “love what? What do you love?” “You.”

“oh.” The word was squeaked out and you then nervously, “That’s a choice. I mean you could have your pick from anyone and you choose me? Now don’t get me wrong I’m pretty cool but seriously Simon, you’re what? Six foot twenty nine and you look like you could throw a truck- and I mean you could do a lot better and I’m not meaning to sound down on myself because like I said I’m pretty damn cool but-“

the words got caught in your throat as the next thing you were fully aware of was that he had leaned down ever so slightly to press his lips to yours, silencing your ramble. Aside from the feeling of his chapped lips you felt the plastic cloth against the bridge of your nose, as he had pulled it up rather than down. To say it took you back would be giving him some slack, you were sure the noise you made could be described as a shriek- which quickly died as you melted into it. Simon Riley! Who planned on it going like that.

#simon riley fanfic #cod x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #coco's chaos <3 #cod fluff #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Ghost fluff

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everywherea11thetime · 16 days ago

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Caddy girl

caddygirl! reader x lando norris

summary: you usually hated being a caddy girl but a certain boy changed that

a/n: reallyyy super short fic that came into my mind like an hour ago. enjoy! xx

☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Being a caddy girl wasn't fun most of the time, 18-year-old trust fund kids thought that they could say whatever they wanted to you and give you the lowest of low tips. But it did have its ups, like the pay or like when a cute guy would come up to you but it usually always ended in him showing no interest in you or secretly being a freak. Today was one of those times, let's just hope it goes well

A man had waved you down mentally rolling your eyes because he just gave off gross rich boy vibes but when he opened his mouth you were surprised to hear a “can I just have a coke and water please” and not “are you offering any other things that aren't on the menu” accompanied with a disgusting smirk and a peak up your skirt. You looked schocked for a bit but then hopped off to get his things. “Okay that will be 9.75” you said with a smile that hadn't crossed your face in a long time, it was a genuine and nice smile. His friend said something that you couldn't hear and the cute boy replied with a look down at his golf cart and and laughed “chat stop” “sorry huh” you asked. He looked up cheeks bright red “oh sorry I'm live streaming and my chat said that you were cute” you let out a knowing “ohhh, well tell them I said thank you” and started to climb back into your cart “its true ya know” you turned around and smiled “oh really” he put his head down while stuffing his hands in his pockets and nodded shyly “yea of course, your gorgeous” “thank you” you felt your cheeks warm up and started to drive away

2 hours later you were still thinking about the cute boy you served but tried pushing the thought away thinking you'd never see him again. Deep in your thoughts suddenly the sound of an engine catches your attention you turn around and see the cute boy from earlier. He walks up to you “Hey so you can totally tell me to go fuck off but could I get your number so maybe we could go on a date or something?” extending his phone out to you. God you never thought you would be excited that a golf boy was hitting on you “yea, of course, I’d love to!” you said as you typed your number into his phone “Thanks by the way I’m Lando” you smile “my names y/n” “cute name to match the cute face.” you laugh shyly as he starts to speak again “so what days do you have off, so we can hang out” “I only work on weekends and fridays, so any other day is good” he nods reassuringly “ok so how about coffee at the cafe like two blocks down on Monday?” you’d seen the coffee place and has been meaning to go get never ended up going through with it “yea actually I’d love that I’ve been meaning to go” “nice I’ve been meaning to go too! I’ll see you Friday, it’s a date” Lando said with a smile then walked away He was the cutest boy you’d ever seen. And from that moment on you knew you were doomed.

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #ln4 x reader #everywherea11thetime

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occamstfs · 9 months ago

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Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew:

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #twinkification #jockification #straight to gay

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year ago

Text

(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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slightlymore · 1 year ago

Text

deadly kiss

chief architect jaehyun x chief engineer fem reader

genre: office au, enemies? to lovers, dom x dom and trying to force each other to sub, romance, smut, fluff

warnings: +18, alcohol, language, explicit sexual content, oral fem receiving, fingering, random sir kink because i was horny like that, use of pet name baby for her during sex, gagging on fingers and sucking, light choking, raw, sex in office, creampie.

words: 12k+

have this little something as I warm up back into writing. it was supposed to be longer and with some angst but it has been in my drafts for monthssss and I was sick of it ehaheah enjoy. if some of these things happened to me irl no they didnt :)

────────────

Present, Monday 2 after the Kiss

That morning you woke up feeling the best you have felt in a hot minute. The sun was shining, the outfit you prepared looked good, you had no trouble putting on makeup that day and your hair looked great. Nothing could have disrupted such a holy morning.

Well, besides a pile of A3 papers on your desk.

The sigh that escaped your chest as you stepped into your office sounded so defeated that your colleagues turned around in their wheeled chairs to check if you were okay.

It’s not like you hated to have piles of paper on your desk. That was your job after all.

It was the owner of those papers that made you roll your eyes so far back in your head that you saw green stars.

“Can you kindly check these and confirm they’re okay? JJ :)”

You stared at that yellow Post-it on top of the pile and the smiley face as if they committed a crime.

“I don’t think you architects have any conception of math or physics,” you said, placing the papers on Jaehyun's desk maybe a bit too harshly.

The man looked down at them with open palms then he prepared his cocky smile before lifting his eyes to look at you.

He took his time with that: starting from the waist, going up slowly, shamelessly going over your breasts and finally face.

"Hi," he tilted his head to one side and rested two fingers on his cheek.

You rolled your eyes.

"That project is halfway fucked," you explained, indicating the papers with your chin.

Jaehyun's expression changed to a fake frown, going as far as giving you a little pout. "Oh, we can't allow that. Projects deserve to be fucked until the end. Just like yo-"

You interrupted. "I swear if you continue that phrase, Jeong-"

"Then what?" he interrupted you as well.

His eyes were dark. Eyelids low. But they were sparkling.

You wouldn’t get intimidated. "I'll get you fired,” you said.

He chuckled. “That’s not what you said last weekend.”

That’s right. It was all your fault. You’ve been bearing the heaviness of that fault for a few days now, in silence, and Jaehyun was just trying to make it even more difficult.

You leaned down slowly, looking around with circumscription but none of his crazy architect colleagues were paying attention to you two. If usually they’d be drinking champagne at 11 am discussing a building that breaks every law of gravity, they were weirdly dead inside that day. The project was probably kicking their ass too.

Jaehyun stared at your cleavage underneath the dangling necklace you had around your neck before looking back up into your furious eyes.

“Only because we made the mistake of kissing while drunk that Friday night, it doesn’t mean you can be unprofessional. Do you understand me?”

The man’s eyes flickered and his cocky expression didn’t leave his pretty features. But he nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.”

You straightened your back and cleared your voice, ignoring how that reply made your stomach churn. You blamed it on rage. Hearing his deep voice so up close made you irrationally mad.

“Look again at that proposal of yours and the adjustments I made. I can give you a physics crash course if you need it.”

“Really? Would you?”

“I was being sarcastic. Do you think engineers in this place have time to babysit you little artsy people?”

“Maybe I can give you something back for the effort?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms, expecting some usual Jeong Jaehyun bullshit, like ‘a kiss’, ‘a date’, ‘my cock’. But he stood up and pulled down his dress pants on the thighs before getting the papers you gave him back and stacking them well together.

“Like some artistic eye since you clearly lack that,” he said.

You felt your jaw tighten at the insinuation.

He got closer, his lips almost touching your ear. “There’s no need to be rude to me only because you think I’m attractive,” he lowered his voice, the little smirk never leaving his face. “I can play this game too.”

You opened your mouth to reply but the swoosh he created by walking away made your hair get into it.

“Thank you for the review,” he added already a few meters away.

────────────

“It’s a theme park.”

You licked your lips with furrowed eyes, your tongue still faintly tasting the hair conditioner. The meeting of the day was to announce the new project the firm was about to take on. One of the many you've been going crazy over lately. Of course, you had to be the one to take notes that day. You enjoyed the fair share of responsibilities your company had, but sometimes you really missed having a little secretary to do the little jobs for you.

You sighed as your nails tapping on the keyboards accompanied the voice of the speaker.

“There will be a few main rides we’ll be responsible for. Our engineers are great and I have huge trust in you all. For this task, you’ll have to work with the architecture team though.”

Your typing stopped. A few of your colleagues murmured. Engineers were usually complete individuals. They could build rides for a theme park themselves with no need from the weirdos of the other office. They usually needed the engineers, never the opposite.

“I think we’re capable of working on this on our own, sir,” you said.

The man sighed as if he expected the resistance.

“This is just to ensure the theme park will also be-” he hesitated, “pretty.”

The murmurs got louder.

“Sir, you’ve seen my portfolio,” someone argued.

“I designed a theme park on my own for my final university project and last year I-” somebody else added.

The man lifted his palms like a tired father. “I know, I know. And your work is ideal. It is, however, very boring. Ugly colours. Mechanical innovation, yes. Is it interesting to look at? No. You’ll work with the architects. Meeting closed.”

────────────

Jaehyun didn’t have to ask anyone why you all were mad as fuck after exiting the meeting hall. The rumour of the firm taking onto the project of a theme park has been whispered around in the CEO’s office for a few days now and he was lucky to have a charming personality and become friends with him. From the look on your face, you didn’t know and Jaehyun would have wanted to stop you and ask if you also wanted a coffee, maybe clown you a bit, but he didn’t manage to. He brought the white cup to his lips instead and blew the steam, going back with his mind to the Friday night, when you were doing the same.

────────────

Past, 2 weeks ago, the Kiss day

“Coffee so late at night?” Jaehyun asked, getting closer to the drinks table. You were resting your red-wrapped hips on it, looking bored.

“I had too much to drink already. Trying to sober up,” you replied and your voice came so muffled that Jaehyun had to stop and look at your face.

You weren’t bored.

You were completely drunk. Absolutely shit-faced.

That wasn’t the most surprising part though. Everyone was drunk at that office party. Jaehyun himself was feeling too lightheaded for his liking. It was something else.

“Are you acting cute right now?” he asked with a mix of shock and amusement.

Your lips were pouty on the brim of the cup you were holding. You shook your head.

Then you tried to take another sip from the steamy coffee but your wavering hand missed your mouth and the dark liquid slowly descended from your chin towards your chest instead.

“Shit,” you looked down at your dress.

“God, are you okay?” Jaehyun was quick to grab a napkin. “Did you burn yourself?”

He took the cup from your hands and put it on the table behind you before gently tapping away at your neck.

“No, it was just warm,” you assured him. “It’s very sticky though. Poured too much sugar. I’ll go wash up,” you announced and placed your palms on his chest to gently push him away from your path. Jaehyun watched your back as you tried to walk towards the corridor but the way you were dangling to one side and then the other in your high heels made his anxiety go through the roof.

“Wait, I’ll help you,” he wrapped your shoulders with one arm.

You hummed as if appreciative and Jaehyun blinked a few times, squinting then relaxing his eyes to try and read all the signboards and see where the hell the bathroom was on that floor. He was also almost shitfaced from the suspicious wine the office brought, but also, he forgot his glasses home that day.

What a couple of losers you two were.

“Listen, I think we need to go down a few floors. I have no idea where the hell the bathroom is here.”

You hummed again and leaned with all of your weight against Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes were closed as if about to fall asleep.

Jaehyun sighed, a little sarcastic “great” huffing from his chest. He let his arm fall from your shoulders to your waist for better support and he hit the lift button with his knuckles. It was fortunately already there and Jaehyun had to half drag you and half push you inside of it. For a moment he felt relieved, but then your weight pushed him against the wall and he had to wrap his arms around you again to not make you slide down.

“Can you just hold yourself up for a second?” he felt irritated.

But his expression relaxed as you lifted your face. Your half-closed eyes and open lips made him gulp.

“Can you smile for once? I really like your dimples,” you replied and poked one of his cheeks.

Jaehyun was flabbergasted. The stuck-up, boring, and work-obsessed chief engineer was poking his cheek while her coffee-shined tits were pressed against his tie? He felt like seeing you for the first time.

“Ah, come on!” you added, grabbing his face with your hands and making him pout. “You never smile.”

“I smile a lot, you just never look at me,” he tried to speak while your thumb was digging into his cheek. Unfortunately, he thought, but he kept that to himself.

You tried to say something else but the ding of the elevator made Jaehyun look towards the opening doors towards a dark corridor. You turned his face towards you again and leaning in, you pressed a chaste kiss on his plump pink lips.

Jaehyun’s eyes widened and although drunk, you looked surprised as well. “Shit, sorry,” you tried to take a step back but Jaehyun’s palms on your waist didn’t let you go.

He slid one hand on your neck, right below the ear and pulled your face back to meet his lips again. You hummed, closing your eyes and firstly grabbed at his jacket before you finally decided to wrap his neck with your arms and abandon yourself in the kiss. Your lips tasted like sweet coffee and Jaehyun hoped it could sober him up as well because he felt suddenly very dizzy. And when you slid your tongue inside his mouth he almost moaned, letting his palms caress your spine before groping at your soft ass. Your body got even closer to his and he had to move just once to pin you against the elevator wall. You grunted and Jaehyun wondered if he pushed into you too harshly, but then you kissed him again as if you could not get enough and he relaxed, welcoming the leg you lifted on his hip. Your skin felt soft under his fingertips and it felt even softer under his lips as he started to kiss your jaw, going down your neck following the coffee trail and cleaning it up with his tongue until it reached the chest. Your eyes were closed and your hands in his hair were making his half-hard cock throb too much. With an enormous almost inhuman force he stopped, hands resting on both sides of your head, chest lifting and falling quickly. Your sensual gaze made him gulp and when you talked, he could barely hear it.

“What?”

“I said, what department are you from? Sales?”

“I’m an architect. Jeong Jaehyun?”

Your face fell so fast that Jaehyun had to take a small step back.

“God,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “not an architect.”

Jaehyun had to remain still for a few minutes after you left to process the whole situation.

────────────

Past, Monday 1 after the Kiss

Monday morning came quicker than you expected and with it the memories of Jeong Jaehyun the architect’s tongue inside your mouth. The elevator you were taking was the same and with the corner of your eye, you could exactly pinpoint where he pushed you against the wall to give you the best make-out session of your whole life. You shuddered and looked away. You psyched yourself to forget everything the whole weekend, or at least, to stop worrying about it, but it was very hard when you knew you would end up seeing him at work. You tried to drink from the cup you were holding but the taste of coffee made your brain buzz with the memory of Jaehyun licking up the sweet and bitter liquid from the swell of your breasts as if he was doing it at that moment too.

You really drunkenly kissed a coworker? An architect? Your university friends would probably laugh at you for the rest of their lives.

You didn’t know much about him so you hoped that by not seeing him often every embarrassment would soon die out.

But apparently, he knew a lot about you.

The shoes you chose that day were flat and comfortable and you were quick to reach your desk and sit down, avoiding everyone that might have seen something.

Clearing your throat you turned on your computer right before a shadow in the shape of a man could obscure the keyboard.

You looked up and Jaehyun smiled politely, the head to the side like a little bird.

“Good morning,” his voice was deep.

You opened your mouth and you felt your glasses slide down your nose. “Good morning?”

The man blinked at you for a moment as if waiting for something. “Well?”

You slowly looked around, darting your gaze across the room to understand what the hell was going on. Was he there to talk about the kiss? Was he a little boy who thought you were dating? Did you promise something? Did you offend him and he was waiting for an apology?

“Do you need something?” you pushed your glasses back and gulped at his sudden chuckle.

“Yes. The projects for today,” he replied with both hands politely extended towards you.

“Huh?”

You took in the view of the man talking to you. Wasn’t Jeong Jaehyun the architect dude with sick tongue skills, and that’s it? Why was he talking to you as if he knew you?

Then you felt as if the gods themselves hit you in the back of your head.

“You’re-” you covered your mouth with the fingers, “you’re Jisung?”

The man’s smile disappeared to make space for confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows while thinking about what he could reply to that.

“You do call me a different J name every time so, I guess that’s technically true for you.”

You took off your glasses because you were afraid the sudden heat wave to your cheeks and chest could melt them off.

“I thought you were-,” you started, “I thought you were some assistant. You’re the Architect team chief Jeong Jaehyun? The man that I kis-”, you stopped yourself.

Jaehyun couldn’t conceal a sudden chuckle but you also saw the shadow of annoyance in his dark eyes.

“You had no idea who I was all of this time we worked together? We talk all mornings and you hand me the projects.”

You were too stunned to speak.

“We’ve been doing this for months now,” he added.

You felt your mouth dry.

Jaehyun scoffed and placed his hands on your desk, leaning down as if having a secret to share.

You gulped and looked around but no one paid you any mind.

“You need Architects to make out with you for you to remember their name and face?”

His whisper made your skin shiver and while you were previously looking at his eyes, you had to stare at his necktie instead after that phrase.

“Why do you keep coming to my office? You have nothing else to do? Send some assistant over from now on,” you blabbed.

Jaehyun straightened his back.

“Okay.”

You nodded as if you just somehow resolved that embarrassing issue.

“You’ll come to my office starting tomorrow and hand me the projects instead.”

“What?” your voice was louder than you expected and a few heads turned around.

Jaehyun’s lips stretched in a lazy and cocky smile. “I’ll get them. For today,” he grabbed the pile of papers from your desk. “Thank you.”

His back looked huge as he turned around and exited the office.

────────────

Jaehyun was fuming.

He threw the papers on his desk with such violence that two poor interns jumped in place with their little coffees.

“Everything is under control. Go back to work and mind your business,” he barked at them.

He forgot he styled his hair that morning and when he tried to pass one hand through the fringe his fingers got stuck in the wax.

“For fuck’s sake,” he sat down and unbuttoned his sleeves instead, rolling them up.

You really had no idea who he was.

He was shocked, embarrassed, and so fucking offended.

No, he felt humiliated.

All of those mornings of him longing- no. He would not admit that to himself. All of those mornings of him working with you and you couldn’t even remember his name, let alone his face.

Was everyone just a nameless and faceless pawn around you? He has never seen a more arrogant and rude person in his whole life.

And the fact he was still burning with desire for such a conceited woman was driving him insane with rage.

────────────

Your fingers were a bit trembling after Jaehyun left. That was possibly the most embarrassing experience of your entire existence.

You rested your forehead on your palms and waited for a few minutes to see if you could get your shit together and start working.

And you kissed. For fuck’s sake.

The mewl that escaped your lips caught the attention of some fellow engineers who were kind enough to stop and ask if you had some sort of stomach ache.

You lifted your head to look at them in the eyes and you realized you had no idea who these people were.

Your parents have always told you to stop overworking yourself and start having a bit of fun too, especially in school. It shouldn’t have been such a huge issue, but realizing you made zero close friends or even acquaintances because you’ve been staring at your desk and computer for all of that time was a shocking realization.

You cleared your throat and gave your coworkers the kindest smile you could pull off.

“I am fine. Thank you very much.”

The people whispered something between themselves and walked away with awkward nods.

“She’s definitely sick. She smiled.”

“You know when people are about to die and they change personality all of a sudden?”

“She never looked me in the eyes before. I felt like getting turned to stone after seeing Medusa.”

You felt your glasses slide down your nose again at the gossip and you exhaled deeply.

Jeong Jaehyun - and his tongue - made you realize people considered you the worst bitch in the universe.

────────────

The HR secretary furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean, all profiles?”

You were tapping your thigh with one fingertip in front of his desk.

“I need all profiles of all workers in the company to choose the- uh- the best team for this huge important project, yeah.”

The young man wasn’t impressed but he wasn’t going to deny the desires of the notorious Chief Engineer.

“I will send you the credentials to access the files, ma’am. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Thank you. That’s all,” you gave him a small nod and turned around. “Actually,” you stopped in place and hesitated. “I know this is not your job but could you talk to someone and bring coffee to the Architets’ office?”

The secretary blinked. “Coffee, ma’am?”

You gulped down the irritation. “Yes, please. Don’t say it’s from me. Please.”

────────────

“This coffee is a gift from Chief Engineer Y/N,” the HR secretary announced as he accompanied the interns carrying a tray.

Jaehyun was groaning and extending his arms above his head when he suddenly heard the commotion.

“I think she’s punishing us for something we did,” one person said, grabbing a cup of coffee and looking at it suspiciously. “This is also so expensive.”

“Well, even if she spit in it, I will drink it, you know what I mean,” another winked and got shoulder hit by his cackling friends. “What? She’s scary but she’s hot.”

“She’d probably bite your dick off.”

Jaehyun got closer and stared down the iron tray.

“You said Y/N sent this?” he asked the secretary who seemed just as baffled, Jaehyun realized.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did she say why?” Jaehyun grabbed a cup and smelled it. Normal coffee.

“No clue sir. She instructed me to not tell you she sent it but-,” he interrupted himself and got closer. Jaehyun leaned towards him to hear. “-we need to track who’s giving what food to whom, you know. It’s right for you to know if perhaps something bad happens to all of you.”

Jaehyun winced. The jokes about you being evil were funny only when he made them.

“You don’t think she would actually do something to this coffee, right?” Jaehyun asked.

The secretary straightened his back and although Jaehyun had no idea what expression he had on, the other man felt somehow intimidated because he stuttered a tiny “no, sir.”

“Good. Why did she ask you to do this?”

“Oh that, she came over to ask the profiles of all the people working at our company.”

Jaehyun’s head was hurting. You were so convoluted.

“Why?”

“No clue, sir. She said something about making up a team.”

You had no business reading the info of all of your coworkers for that. The idea of you wanting to learn more about him after the terrible interaction you had that morning made him roll his eyes in annoyance at how good it felt for a second.

────────────

You felt like a thief although you got the info of everyone legally. You cleared your throat and started to scroll through all the profiles, mildly interested. You opened the first one and tried to read but then you puffed your cheeks and closed it.

The J was in the middle and you pretended to have accidentally stumbled upon Jeong Jaehyun’s profile instead.

Alright alright, you yelled at yourself in your mind. You were interested. God, his kiss was so good and his face, wow. You couldn’t forgive yourself for not looking at him once in all of those months.

And you’ve been so rude to him. You shivered.

Jeong Jaehyun 14 February 1997.

You rolled your eyes. That birthday must have been made up. It’s impossible for a man like him to be a Valentine Boy.

You tried to remember what you knew about Aquarius but your astrology knowledge was too limited so you hoped that would be compatible with your sign.

Pause no. Why were you thinking about astrology compatibility? Maybe you were actually dying?

Tsk, graduated cum laude, the rascal. He wasn’t just pretty but also smart.

Your eyes slowly darted across the page, eating up all the info the company could legally allow you to read and you had to admit that his projects had been insane even before coming to your company.

And the ones he had under his belt afterwards? Well, they were all projects you also worked on. You felt sick.

Were you really such a bad person?

You sighed and closed his profile, starting to read the others.

────────────

Jaehyun’s day has never felt longer. He thought he should probably go to the gym because the pain in his back was only getting worse and he should probably extend those muscles somehow.

His brain was going over the menu for the dinner as well when he heard your voice in the main hall. He exited the lift and saw your smiling face greeting some of your fellow engineer colleagues.

“Good work today, Minnie.”

Poor Minnie smiled back as if the queen herself greeted her and almost tripped against the poor man who got blinded by your sudden kindness.

Jaehyun stopped in place and sighed, trying to suppress the cackle.

“See you tomorrow, ma’am,” the man added.

“Have a nice evening, Yeonjun.”

Jaehyun lifted one eyebrow at Yeonjun’s glossy eyes and walked over.

He saw you sigh and turn around right into his chest.

“I see you’ve done your homework.”

You gasped and took a step back to be able to see him in the face.

“Do you remember my name too?” Jaehyun added with a cocky smile and you exhaled, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Of course, I do.”

Jaehyun buttoned up his jacket with a smile. “Good. Don’t forget to come to my office with the projects tomorrow.”

“Listen,” you stopped him as he tried to walk around you. “I am- sorry for what happened this morning. I am very embarrassed about it.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes and Jaehyun had to tighten his fist inside his pants pocket at how cute you looked.

“But-” you lifted your gaze on him. It was piercing. “-you have no right to treat me like this.”

“Like this how?”

“You’re punishing me.”

Jaehyun opened his mouth then closed it at the accusation. It was true but he didn’t like for you to know about it.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“Coming to my office and seeing my pretty face is a punishment in your opinion?”

You put your tongue in the cheek with a scoff. “This. You’re- so cocky. You’re annoying.”

Jaehyun’s dimples made an appearance. “You think I’m annoying? You didn’t know who I was after months of working together. That’s annoying.”

“I apologized.”

“Very insincerely so.”

“I learned everything about you.”

“Stalker.”

You scoffed again, putting your hands on your hips. His everlasting smile was driving you nuts.

“Alright. See you tomorrow, then. In your office. I’ll gladly hand you your work as you clearly burn with desire for me to do.”

────────────

Back to Present, 2 weeks after the Kiss

The following days rolled on fairly easily. The annoyance and anxiety about going to Jaehyun’s office died slowly as you realized you only had to walk over, say hi, and place papers on his desk.

If he thought you were rude by not small talking it wasn’t worse than not remembering his name and face after months of working together.

Everything went back to normal and you started to be also decently popular in your office. Shocker, but if the chief is in a good mood and treats everyone with kindness, everyone works more efficiently. That’s the only good thing Jaehyun brought into your life.

Well, that was until that day and the stupid yellow Post-it sticker on your desk.

“Can you kindly check these and confirm they’re okay? JJ :)” was still in front of you on your desk after the meeting about the Theme Park.

There’s no need to be rude to me only because you think I’m attractive, was also still rolling in your brain and you wanted to go back to his office and yell that he was not attractive at all. He was just an annoying prick who had the upper hand because you embarrassed yourself in front of him once.

But there were limits to all and he was starting to be too much.

────────────

Jaehyun expected an Engineers and Architects meeting to happen at a certain point but he didn’t expect for it to be only the two of you.

“So, I guess you’ve heard but we’re tasked to work together on a theme park.”

You were alone in the huge meeting hall, one in front of the other, the large shiny desk separating you. Jaehyun looked at your white button down snuggly covering your breasts and the tiny bit of lace adorning your bra pocking out made him swallow dryly for the fourth time in one minute.

“Yes,” he simply said. You moved and the shirt covered the lace. He sighed. “We can finally have a pretty theme park.”

You rolled your eyes and Jaehyun wondered if you’d roll them the same way while he’d pound you into the mattress.

His crush on you has been annoying him for a while now, but the recent development and the fact you didn’t even know who he was for a long time while he was under the impression that you might fuck soon has been a very low blow to his self-esteem.

Now, he was trying to fight the attraction so badly but his cock had a brain of his own apparently because even if he found you arrogant and annoying, he really liked the soft side you showed him multiple times and that turned him on too much to ignore.

“Engineers also have taste.”

“Well you kissed me so I guess you do have a bit of taste, I’ll give you that.”

You let the pen go and crossed your arms on your chest. “Can’t you keep it in your pants for one second so we can discuss this like normal adult coworkers?”

“It is in my pants.”

“You’re being inappropriate.”

“You brought up cock talk.”

“You brought up kiss talk.”

“You kissed me first.”

Jaehyun smiled at the victory and you leaned back in the chair.

“Can we please stop talking about that and pretend it never happened?”

“Actually you owe me another apology.”

You waited with a lifted eyebrow.

“You basically said ew architects after kissing me that night.”

You scoffed. “And I stand by that. I’m not apologizing. Are baby architect’s feelings hurt?”

Jaehyun licked his lower lip in annoyance. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you hate architects so much?”

“Why do you hate engineers?” you resorted.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You do.”

He lowered his voice. “I don’t. You want me to hate you, maybe.”

“Why would I want that?”

“That’s your homework for the day. Think about it.”

“If you’re under the impression that I pretend to hate you because I secretly like you so I secretly would like for that to be the case from your part too, well, you’re wrong,” you smiled although you started to feel the muscles of your thighs shake ever so slightly under the desk. The building was almost empty and the lights were getting turned off one by one leaving you and Jaehyun alone in the huge room, faces illuminated by the blue screens of the computers and the constellation of lights of the skyline.

“That’s a very convoluted thought. Of course, you don’t like me. You don’t even know me.”

“You can stop rubbing that in. I know you now.”

“Well, then it’s a matter of time before you start liking me.”

“You’re so arrogant.”

“I am arrogant?”

“Well, I don’t have the presumption that everyone in the building is onto me.”

“How do you even know I’m like that? You don’t know me.”

“You walk around like you have a 9 inches cock.”

Jaehyun widened his eyes for a second then leaned forward to laugh. His eyes closed and his perfect teeth shone on display. You realized he got whiskers when laughing hard. It pissed you off.

“And if I do?” he tried.

You scoffed with a smile. “That’s not human.”

“9 is a lot, I’ll give you that, but it's not inhuman.”

“Well, I hope you don’t have 9 because I’d be worried about your lower back carrying that around.”

“Holy shit, I do have back problems. You think it’s that?”

“For fuck’s sake, Jeong Jaehyun. Please let’s get back to work.”

Jaehyun stopped talking and you started to actually explain the new project. You both liked the little smile that remained on each other’s lips.

────────────

Jaehyun was not at his desk that morning so you bit your lower lip, slowly putting down the files for the day. You had no reason to see each other or talk about anything else since both teams had to work on their share of tasks before meeting again but you just wanted to- you had no idea what.

You looked around and touched a few of his desk items before noticing his phone silently blowing up. You looked around the office to see if he was coming but he was nowhere to be seen. The walk around the desk felt natural but also stealthy and you hoped no one was looking at you. You sat in his chair and the jacket he kept on it smelled like him.

You sighed. Ew men and their hot cologne, right?

The phone’s screen had no time to turn off as text notifications rolled on the screen again and again underneath your gaze. You wondered if he was part of many active groupchats before realizing they were all private messages both from registered numbers and numbers with no name.

You felt your throat itchy upon realizing they were mostly from women trying to chit-chat. You scoffed, staring the phone down. He was that popular huh? And he wasn’t replying to any of them? He was so arrogant-

“Fuck!” you whimpered, bringing one hand to the back of your neck and finding someone’s cold knuckles. “What do you think you’re-” you grabbed the hand and turned around. Jaehyun’s perfect eyebrow was lifted.

“What are you doing at my desk?” he asked, interrupting your question.

“I came to give you the files,” you stood up and looked at your hand still holding his fingers. You let them go in the same instant.

He hummed and sat down before realizing you were still there. “Is there something I can do for you?” he turned towards you in his chair.

You cleared your throat. “I need your phone number.”

You had no idea why you said that but it was too late. You tried to maintain a neutral face.

Jaehyun’s expression didn’t tell you anything about what he thought.

“You have it. It’s written on the file all workers have-”

“Your personal cellphone number,” you interrupted him.

The man’s eyes were piercing but you didn’t want to look away. Your brain was running quickly to make up some excuse about why you wanted it but he didn’t ask.

He extended one arm to reach the pen holder and got one, clicking it. When he turned around he searched for your hand, the same holding his fingers before, and grabbed it gently, palm towards his face.

“Why are your hands so cold?” you mumbled as he started to scribble on your skin.

“Because my heart is warm,” he replied without missing a beat. “Also, I just washed them.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him write his number slowly. His fingers were on your pulse and you hoped he could not feel how quick it was starting to get. Why was he writing on your hand instead of a piece of paper? And why didn’t you just take your hand away? Being around him made you feel and act stupid.

One strand of hair fell from his hairdo, obscuring his eyes from your gaze, but then he finished and looked up at you, the neck extended showing a single vein popping out from his tight collar.

“There you go,” he added.

You slid your hand from his hold and fought the urge to tighten it in a fist as if to hide something shameful.

“Thank you,” you replied and exited the office.

────────────

That night you were at your home desk, head in hands, trying to come up with a problem about the project you could text Jaehyun about.

Everything could be an email and bothering coworkers outside of working hours was abhorrent, but he was Jaehyun and you didn’t care if he got mad at you.

No. You wanted him to get mad at you. But why?

You couldn’t think of anything at all so you let your phone go and walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine.

Last time you got drunk you kissed him, you remembered. The glass was cold and the wine fresh and you tried to drown the memories of his lips on yours because they made you shiver in embarrassment. Or desire?

Your growling stomach communicated the need for a snack too but the only thing you could think of making were chicken nuggets so you threw them on an oven tray and hoped for the best.

When Jaehyun heard his phone ring he was about to jump on the bed, kicking his feet and giggling before realizing he was a grown man with cock and balls.

“Hello?” he talked into it calmly, after clearing his voice. He knew you'd call after that awkward encounter in his office and he paced the apartment the whole evening.

“Hey,” your voice on the other line sounded muffled. “You answer surprisingly well for someone that gets calls and texts from women 24/7.”

Jaehyun smiled and sat on the bed. “So this is what it was about, huh.”

You didn’t reply for a moment and he desperately wanted to know what expression you had on.

“I’m calling because of an issue with the project,” you mumbled after a bit.

“Y/N,” Jaehyun called calmly.

“Yes.”

“Are you drunk?”

“I am not drunk. I am working right now!”

“Every time you’re drunk you think of me?”

“I said I am not drunk.”

Jaehyun kept ignoring you. “Well, you can’t deny it’s a weird coincidence.”

“Fuck-” you suddenly said and Jaehyun stopped talking.

“Oh, shit-” you repeated and dropped your phone, probably on the ground.

“Y/N, what’s happening?”

Jaehyun could not make sense of any of the sounds on the other side but it didn’t seem anything good.

“Y/N, everything is fine?” he spoke again but you probably couldn’t hear him.

“My fucking nuggets-” he heard your whimper as if far away and the moment the smoke detector went off and you mumbled something about a fire extinguisher Jaehyun got his shoes and ran outside his apartment.

────────────

Your voice got cut off as soon as you opened the door after the endless incessant doorbell rings from someone clearly very panicked. You opened and his arms were so strong that your breath went missing and you were forced to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck by the sheer force of his embrace. You’ve never seen him with soft unstyled hair and the worried expression underneath his fringe just made him even cuter.

“You’re just-,” you heard Jaehyun’s deep voice on the crown of your head, “-so fucking stupid.”

You furrowed your eyebrows but he went on.

“So irresponsible. I am shocked at how you could have let your fucking oven burn when you have the brains to build a whole city.”

“I was distracted,” you spoke softly into his shirt. It smelled like laundry detergent. His mix of insults and compliments weirdly made you giggle.

Jaehyun let you go and grabbed your face with both hands, finally looking at you frantically and squishing your cheeks.

“I am okay,” you assured him. “Everything is under control.”

The man sighed deeply as if slightly placated but the line between his eyebrows didn’t get smoothed out. And when he finally looked behind you and assessed the tragic situation of your burned-out oven covered in white foam he had to close his eyes for a moment to gather his shit.

“It’s okay! It was an old oven anyway,” you turned around, trying to ignore that he was still holding your hand.

“Your house could have burned down with you in it.”

“How do you even know where I live? And you called me the stalker?” you confronted him.

“It’s written in your profile.”

He let go of your hand and got closer to the kitchen, looking at the mess with hands on the hips like the embodiment of a dad. It made your guts tingle.

“Sure. And you know all the addresses of all of your coworkers,” you followed him, resting your elbows on the island.

“Of course, I don’t. I don’t like them. Stop talking nonsense and let’s clean this out.”

You had no idea in what capacity you helped because at a certain point Jaehyun just gave you a glass of water and told you to sit down.

You didn’t feel that well.

Both because you were kinda tipsy and you went through all stages of grief putting out a fire, but also because he was there, and he said he liked you. Right? Jung Jaehyun said he liked you.

And not only.

"I know you're capable of dealing with this alone. You don't need my help but I'd like to help," he said as you tried to push him to the side and clean the mess yourself. No one talked like that before and a weird fuzzy sensation softened the muscles in your legs making you sit down.

You sipped on the water without talking back, staring at the way his forearms were flexing while cleaning out your oven and the surroundings.

“No need to be meticulous. They’re coming tomorrow to change it anyway,” you tried, feeling awkward as no one did you any favours before.

Jaehyun didn’t reply and you realized he looked very handsome when focused. Well, not that he was ugly when unfocused, but the way his jaw looked sharper and his gaze darker made you sigh and take another sip of water.

“Is your hair bothering you? I can give you a headband,” you tried again.

“You are bothering me.”

You scoffed. “I am trying to be nice right now. Your hair is pretty long. Doesn’t it go in your eyes?”

You were expecting some witty flirty reply back, along the lines of you pushing it back for him, but Jaehyun didn’t look in the mood.

The truth was that you felt very embarrassed about the situation; as if you failed at something and Jaehyun was scolding you. That was new for you.

“Fuck, this could have been a tragedy,” he mumbled, as if almost on cue.

“I am sorry to have worried you.”

Jaehyun stopped to look at you. “Why are you apologising to me? You’re the one surviving a fire.”

“But I am okay. You seem much more shaken than me.”

Jaehyun kept silent and when he stood up you realized he finished cleaning up the foam and the dark burning spots. You stared at the back of his head as he washed his hands in the sink.

“Also thank you for being here,” you added. You didn’t know what else to do so you got up and walked towards him. Was a hug weird? Should you just shake his hand and call him a pal?

His body stiffened a bit feeling your timid arms around his waist. “You’re still drunk?” he simply said, patting his hands dry with your kitchen towel. You stopped and slid them away.

“You said you like me,” you mumbled against his back.

“Yep, still very drunk.”

He grabbed your hands to be able to turn around and face you, resting his hips against the kitchen cabinet.

“You said there were issues about the project when you called,” he added.

You blinked at him. “You really want to talk about work right now?”

Maybe he did. He was your coworker after all. And he certainly didn’t come over to “save” your sorry ass if you didn’t call him about it.

Suddenly you felt very embarrassed.

You kissed the man in an elevator after not even remembering his name and then asked for his number and now you wanted to make out with him in front of your destroyed oven?

You gulped and took a small step back but your breath stopped as his hands holding yours grabbed your waist instead and didn’t let you move away too much.

“I am buying some time,” he explained.

Your voices got so low that you barely could hear him, but your gaze on his lips helped you understand what he was talking about.

“Are you scared to kiss me again?” you asked.

“Are you going to ask me to forget it happened Monday morning again?”

His fingers were delicate on your skin for a moment you remembered you were wearing your pajamas. The thin top definitely didn’t hide anything from his gaze and the midriff being exposed to his knuckles made you shiver.

“I won’t ask to do that if you don’t make it awkward.”

“Fucking your coworker is always awkward.”

You blinked at him as if suddenly realizing you were standing half naked between your hot coworker’s thighs (who was an architect!!) “I didn’t say I was planning to fuck. Just-uhm kiss.”

Jaehyun smiled and your eyes darted to his dimples then back to the white flash of his teeth.

“You think you’ll be able to stop after one single kiss?”

You stepped back and crossed your arms on your chest to feign confidence but mostly to hide the tremor in your arms. "Try me."

Jaehyun took a moment to let his gaze slide on your features. “You get very cute when you’re drunk, you know that?”

“Well, to quote someone, I guess the stick I have up my ass disappears.”

“I can put it ba-”

You put your fingers on his lips. “You will not continue that disgusting phrase,” you warned.

Jaehyun smiled wider and his lips rubbed on your skin. He kissed the spot then he kissed one of the fingertips. You inhaled, eyes trained on his gaze, unable to move away anymore as the room suddenly got sucked of any sound besides your own breath.

He grabbed that hand and kissed your wrist, this time closing his eyes for a moment as if savouring it. You gulped. And when he locked eyes with you the shiver that went down your spine manifested in a little exhale. Jaehyun smiled again, a little curve on his plump lips you felt on the softness of your fingers.

The kiss felt the same as the first one you exchanged in the elevator after he pulled you closer towards himself. But this time you took your sweet time, letting your palms feel his chest, the skin on his neck, the thick hair on his nape. He did the same, caressing your back with his knuckles, rubbing your thighs with his blunt nails, and grabbing your ass in your flimsy shorts.

You whimpered in his mouth at the feeling and he hummed back, a low sound, almost a growl, your lips apart but tongues still swirling until you dove back in.

“Can’t you be like this in the office too?” his murmur made your eyes open. He was licking his lips while his fingers intertwined with yours in a slow dance of pushing you back towards the couch.

“You want me to get called by HR?”

He flashed you a small chuckle. “That secretary is so scared of you by the way. He thought you poisoned the coffee.”

The couch’s arm dug into your thighs and you sat on it, pulling Jaehyun closed by the waistband of his sweats. His eyelashes fluttered as you looked up at him, then again as you dragged your palm upwards underneath his shirt.

“And you think I didn’t?” you tilted your head to the side.

“I am still alive.”

“Not for too long. I might suck the life out of you," you placed a single wet kiss on his hip bone making him hiss. “Take this off,” you tugged at the shirt.

Jaehyun’s hum was low. “Shit. Ordering me around?”

You looked up. “Please take this off?” you changed your tone but you couldn’t hide the mockery.

He exhaled amused and did it in a second, pulling it by the collar and throwing it on the ground. But you didn’t have time to do what you intended to because the torso you so desperately wanted to see disappeared from your sight - Jung Jaehyun Chief of the Architect Department fell on his knees, savouring the delicate skin of your inner thigh.

You gasped at the sensation and the anticipation of what was actually going to happen made you suddenly dizzy.

You wanted to grab his hair to support yourself, physically or morally, but his head jerked back and with the most angelic and devilish smile, he pushed you back on the couch.

“You should be respectful,” you chuckled at the manhandling. "I'm a senior."

Jaehyun grabbed your ankles with one hand as a reply while the other swiftly slid your garments off your body. “I will be respectful after I am done,” he murmured. “For now you will have to take the disrespect, I’m afraid.”

You tried to think of a witty phrase but your legs were being directed on his shoulders, his knees were on the carpet in front of you now and his voice came from between your thighs. Oh, and you were naked.

Too much work for your brain.

“Thought you were a gentleman.” You didn't like your shaky voice. You didn’t like any of this. Didn’t you make some kind of bet just moments before? You forgot anything you two said to each other already.

“I am a gentleman who knows when to not be gentle.”

And you soon realized what that meant.

You had no idea if other men's tongues have felt that velvety before or if you were just developing the fattest crush on Jeong Jaehyun the Architect as he was devouring you and making you biased. But fuck he knew how to eat pussy. And you made sure he knew that.

Jaehyun hummed appreciatively at the praise, his deep eyes covered by his long eyelashes making you unable to look away. So you slid your hand in his luscious hair, pushing it away from his face and pulled a bit. His arms and back muscles flinched and he visibly enjoyed your breathy moans when he increased the pace of his tongue's movement.

"Shit, Jaehyun-" you curled your toes against the smooth skin of his spine then gasped, feeling his long fingers rub your slick before swiftly sliding inside of you. It was wet and messy and loud and the moment he let go of your clit with a dirty plop to start kissing your stomach instead you knew that night wasn't going to end with just that. Should you stop him? Should you continue? Would you be okay tomorrow?

"Where are you?" Jaehyun curled his fingers and you bit your lower lip.

"I'm here," you replied against his wet lips, body rocking back and forth on the couch as he fingerfucked you, the veins popping on his bicep making you swallow dryly.

"I need you to focus on me. What are you thinking about?" he leaned down to rub his nose against your ear before outlining it with his tongue.

You shivered underneath him and your nails probably left some indents in his pristine skin.

"About how much I want your cock inside of me," you exhaled. That was the truth.

Jaehyun hummed deeply and his breath became more shallow.

"And?" he kissed your neck slowly, so different from the pace of his wrist to make you dizzy.

"And I'm thinking of the consequences," you curved your spine, raising the tone of your voice on the last syllables. "Fuck, Jeong, this is-"

"Yeah?" he came back to your mouth, letting you whimper your moans against his lips. "You want me to stop then? No orgasm, no consequences."

"If you stop-"

"Then what?"

You shuddered, frantically palming his hard chest then going down to loosely grab his moving wrist.

"Are you going to beg for it? I'm kinda curious to see you like that," he added. The roughness in his already deep voice sealed the deal and you couldn't do anything but let your head fall back and bite down a scream as you came around Jaehyun's fingers. It was too late. It was already too late the moment you pushed him against the damn elevator wall.

He let you decide when he should stop moving his fingers and you felt yourself clench rhythmically around them as you desperately tried to calm down. His lips were on your throat and you realized that he was talking, murmuring something so sweetly that for a moment you wished for him to just hold you until you fell asleep.

"Good girl," he placed a kiss on the tender skin, then on the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes to look at his gorgeous face. His cheeks and ears were dusty pink and it made your heart skip a beat.

You pulled him down and kissed him again, slowly and deeply. Then he smiled, stopping your hand from reaching underneath his sweatpants.

"Tonight is all about you," he whispered.

You furrowed your eyebrows but the mind-blowing orgasm blew your mind so well that you had no reply.

"Why?" Your voice was a quiet waver.

"I don't want you to regret anything," he replied. "And I don't want you to think about the consequences."

Somehow it made sense. Waking up tomorrow and realizing you let him fuck you with his tongue felt better than realizing he came down your throat.

Were you really that proud? Maybe you did have a stick up your ass.

"Don't argue with me," he gave you a crooked smile as he got up on his knees.

"I'm not arguing with you."

"You have a specific look in your eyes when you're about to debate me."

You crossed your arms on your chest mostly to cover up given the sudden disappearance of his body from on top of you. Then you sat up and closed your legs.

"That's not true. You're making things up."

Jaehyun collected his shirt with another smile and you stared at his long back and the way his sweatpants sat low on his hips.

The fucking consequences.

"I really need you though," you whispered.

Jaehyun wore his top. "How do you want me?"

"Riding," you replied.

He chuckled. "Of course you do. You can't possibly let an architect force you to your knees, can you?."

You curled your toes at his words. "No, sir."

Yes, he fucking could.

Jaehyun leaned down again to slide his hand on your jaw and almost kiss you. But he whispered instead.

"I'll let you ride me if you keep calling me sir."

────────────

You didn't notice when Jaehyun left your apartment that night. You thought that the way he took you to your bed bridal style and let you nuzzle into his chest would roam your brain the whole night and would prevent you from falling asleep yet you had the best night's sleep in months.

And you hated to admit it but waking up that morning you felt embarrassed out of your mind but you'd probably have crawled out of your skin if you actually fucked him until the end.

"Hope you got home well," you texted him. Maybe that was how adults did stuff. Maybe that’s what he wanted from you in the first place. Just fucking. Yet why was he so considerate?

"Yes :)", he replied with his stupid smiley face a second after. Was he not busy? How did he even see your texts in the middle of the hundred he was getting? That made you almost kick your feet and you realized you were slowly descending into madness.

"And I slept as well as you did after taking care of your gift," he added.

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What gift?"

"My boner"

You sighed so much that you thought you had turned into a horse. Then you had to pass one hand on your face as flashes of Jaehyun's hand fucking his cock while thinking of you entered your brain.

"It was you who stopped me from taking care of it myself." He was driving you insane. Your coworker - an architect (!!!).

"I wasn't blaming you :)"

"You're a bit of a masochist"

"I'm everything when I'm with you"

"Barf"

"Honestly I thought you wouldn't even want to talk to me today"

"Well we both know that you have poor judgement"

"Maybe I should have let you ride after all :)"

"Okay byee I'm turning off my phone"

"Or suck me well"

"I'm blocking this number"

"Or let me blow your back"

"Sending this to HR"

"Andy, if you're reading this, the Chief Engineer let me fuck her with my tongue and she liked it"

────────────

Texting and fooling around was one thing, but seeing his polished figure while sober and in the middle of the workplace made you almost have a panic attack.

"Good morning," you trilled, hands already pushing the files on his desk.

"Hey," he lifted his face and gave you a warm but professional smile.

"See you around," you nodded once and turned towards the exit hoping not to hit the glass door with your face.

He let you go.

Then you came back the day after. And again. And again. No further exchange. Give papers. Take papers. See his face. Lose your mind at night with your hand between your legs and his name on your lips.

Then your name, pronounced by those lips you’ve been staring at as he pretended to sleep the previous weekend, made you stop in place and close your eyes. You swallowed and got ready to turn around.

He was already there, standing right behind you and you inhaled his cologne as you took a step back.

His shirt was open enough for his collarbone to peek through and the way his half-exposed arms looked, crossed on his chest, made you almost angry.

“Would you like to have lunch together?” he asked.

You lifted your gaze to meet his eyes the looked around his figure. Jaehyun smiled, tilting his head to the side to get in the middle of your gaze.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me,” he added.

“It’s easy for rumours to start forming,” you murmured, imitating his pose. Your fingers grabbed your arms perhaps a bit too hard.

“It’s just a normal lunch.”

“I don’t do normal lunches. It would look weird.”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

You snorted and turned around. “The last floor is always empty,” you only said as you walked away.

────────────

Jaehyun didn’t actually expect you to be there. Somehow he thought the way your voice would waver when he was around, or the way you melted under his touch back in your apartment, the noises that you made because of him, all because of him, was just some incredibly orchestrated big joke. You didn’t try to speak to him after that weekend and you didn’t linger around his desk anymore. Hell, you didn’t even text him.

He had to do something or he would go insane.

Yet you were in the last room of the upper floor, sitting down on the only couch inside of it, staring at your little plastic container with your lunch and waiting for him.

You were adorable.

He had to stop in place before entering to gather his shit.

Then he knocked two times on the glass frosted door and your head snapped. Your eyes looked so pretty that he felt his fingertips tickle.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you replied.

Jaehyun closed the door behind him and he could sense the way your spine tensioned. He wanted to pass his palm on it, he wanted you to curve it as he’d grab your neck to pull you up against his chest as he’d pound into you from behind again and again until you’d break.

“What have you got?” he walked slowly and sat down. The couch was sturdy enough. He made a mental note.

You looked down at your container as if seeing it for the first time. “Cold pasta. What about you?”

Jaehyun licked his lips. There you were, looking at him as if hoping for him to devour you.

"Don't look at me like that."

You closed your mouth. “Like what?” you smirked.

He exhaled.

"Should I close my eyes then?" you giggled.

Jaehyun opened his lips to breathe and your gaze fell on them.

"Do you know what would keep my eyes closed?" you asked with a lower voice.

The man's eyes darkened and a whiff of air dilated his nostrils as he leaned in and knocked the air out of your lungs. The kiss was rough and its rhythm erratic. His palms were on your jaw and cupping your head. Yours were on his chest, grabbing at his shirt. You had no idea where your food containers disappeared because suddenly your hands were full of him and your legs straddling his body as he plopped you on his lap.

You opened your eyes a little when you felt him pull away to let you breathe, the air flowing between your lips still brushing against each other. You looked at them, they were flushed and plump and you desperately needed to taste them again. His gaze was on your eyes and his deep voice surprised you.

"You opened them again." His voice was so deep that you felt it vibrating in your chest.

You met his eyes.

"I guess you'll have to keep kissing me, then."

His palms on your waist felt wide and so warm that when he slid them on your ass to pull you closer you felt like mewling. Close so close it was so close and you were at work. You were kissing at work. You were sitting on his lap, on his sexy black dress pants, fingers sliding in the slit of his shirt, feeling his chest, his neck, his jaw, his hair. Fuck.

“We need to slow down,” you exhaled, pulling yourself away from him.

“Why? You’re afraid you’re going to cum too quickly?”

His arms wrapped around you even tighter and his amused and warm mouth attached to your throat instead. You felt your eyes roll back in your head as he nibbled on your skin, peppering wet kisses all over it. And when he scooted his hips forward, his palms on your ass pulling you closer until your chest hit his face, you inhaled feeling his hard cock underneath you. Jaehyun looked up, drinking in your reaction.

“Show me how much you want this. Show me that you don’t care about the damn consequences.”

Like a spell, your hips started to move on their own, rubbing yourself on him. You were desperate, humping him like a mad woman and his choked moan as he let his head fall back on the couch, extending his throat, was the final thing about his maddening presence to fully break your mind.

"Does it feel good, sir?" you didn't hide the mockery in your tone, feeling your control sliding back in your hands.

But then Jaehyun shattered it again.

"Ride me."

His eyes were two dark cuts under his scrunched eyebrows and his command made your whole center boil. You stopped your movements and you shuddered on top of him.

His chest was expanding and shrinking under your palms and when you pushed into it to be able to stand his Adam apple shifted in his throat as he swallowed.

"Undress me."

Your order made his tongue poke his inner cheek and you smirked, mirroring his expression.

Jaehyun sat closer to the edge of the couch to reach your body and your skin shivered with goosebumps the moment his long fingers unbuttoned your pants. His gaze never shifted away from your face and it made you boil with need.

The fabric hit the floor and you scooted it to the side, the pant legs so wide your heels just passing through, leaving you and your naked and elongated legs for Jaehyun to touch with his wide palms. They were warm as they slid up your thighs, your breath hitching as you looked at his open lips, his own breath stuck in his lungs and released only when he pulled you towards him.

You bit your lower lip, feeling his mouth on your stomach, and then you let your head fall back as his fingers trailed your sides, lifting your top until reaching your breasts. You lifted your arms and Jaehyun stood for a moment to help the fabric away from your limbs and before you could kiss him, he sat down, with your between his knees, and unclipped your bra. You gulped, helping yourself stand by placing your hands on his wide and firm shoulders.

“This is so inappropriate,” you whispered, muffling a whine as Jaehyun kneaded your soft breasts, looking at the skin fill the gaps between his fingers.

“Yeah? Is being naked like this in front of me making your sweet pussy achy and wet?” Jaehyun’s deep voice made your stomach shiver as he spoke on your skin, trailing open wet kisses down your navel.

You were about to reply, your hazy brain still able to formulate some snarky comment, but when his hands cupped your ass, and one slid to your thigh to lift it on his shoulder, your hearing flatlined. You felt your underwear being pushed to the side and his luscious tongue making you gasp.

“Jaehyun-” you felt your legs suddenly wobbly and his grip on your body tightened, his mouth licking and sucking at your clit making you grab his perfectly coiffed hair and pull.

His groan travelled inside of you and his blunt nails dug into your soft skin before he let you go, sporting shining lips and heavy breath.

He didn’t speak, and he only grinned as he sat back on the couch, his arrogant face making you quiver almost as much as his tongue inside of you. He patted his lap.

You scoffed trying to hide a laugh but before you could roll your eyes at him, his hands were on your waist, making you sit flush against him.

“If you dare to roll your eyes at me, I’ll give you a real reason to do that,” he murmured against your lips.

You kissed him, deeply and messily, grabbing the short hairs at his nape with one hands, and cupping his balls with the other, making him hiss.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered back, massaging him through the tight dress pants he was wearing.

His adam apple bobbed in his throat but his eyes shone with mischief. He nodded, not for one second intimidated. It infuriated you.

So you undid his button and slid his zip down, feeling the wetness of his precum adorning his expensive boxers.

“And yet, look who made a mess,” you cooed, sliding your hand underneath the elastic band and making him close his eyes and extend his neck back.

“God,” he groaned.

He was long and thick, his skin velvety and soft, hot with need. You jerked him with your hand slowly, swallowing at the thought of having him inside of you, splitting you apart.

Maybe you made a sound, or maybe he saw your expression as you opened his eyes but he smiled faintly.

“Come on, end this torture. You want me as badly as I want you, chief engineer,” he said. And you would have had another ounce of brat in you if only he didn’t say the following things. Just one word, and it made you dizzy with desire.

“Please,” he murmured.

Your hand shook as you felt his bigger one on top of yours, directing his pretty cock towards your aching core. You let it go and Jaehyun aligned himself, lifting his gaze with a heavy breath to see your lustful expression as you sat on it slowly.

You both exhaled, his deep growl and your higher pitched breathy sound, until you reached the base, his girth making you see stars.

“Good girl, take it all,” he breathed out, letting you adjust.

“Fuck, Jaehyun-” you gulped, feeling your skin hot, as you lifted yourself once before sinking deep down again.

He hissed, “I know, baby, I know.”

The petname worked as a spell, throwing you into a fast haze, riding his cock as deep as you could. Jaehyun wrapped one arm around your waist, while the other hand raised to shove his fingers inside your mouth.

“I’d love for the whole company to hear how good my cock makes you feel, pretty girl, but we don’t want a call from HR, do we?”

You gagged on them at first, then sucked, trying to turn down the noises you didn’t even realize you were making.

And when your movements became sloppy and you felt on the verge of losing your mind, Jaehyun’s hips snapped, thrusting up inside of you and making you fist his pristine shirt.

“That’s it, baby, take it like a good girl.”

You let go of Jaehyun’s fingers to whine, but then you choked again as his wet hand warmly grabbed your throat instead, making you steady yourself on his wrist instead.

“Fuck, just like that,” he pulled your body even closer to himself, squeezing your breasts against his expensive wristwatch. It would probably leave a bruise and for some reason the thought of being marked by Jaehyun made you quiver on his cock so hard that with a few deep thrusts you came undone, shaking in his arms and calling his name again and again and again.

Jaehyun’s warm breath tickled your face and his muscles were pumped with tension as he forced his hips to still, feeling your clenching walls tighten around him rhythmically.

“Baby, I need to cum or I’ll pop a fucking vein,” he chuckled breathlessly, the hand previously on your throat cupping your face instead.

“Then cum inside of me,” you replied, ears still ringing from the raging orgasm.

Jaehyun groaned and snapped, drilling into you so fast that you didn’t have enough force to fully oxygenize your lungs, his arms tightly around your soft body and his face buried in the crook of your neck.

The sounds were dirty, the tall windows of the small office were getting foggy, and you wondered how long you’ve been fucking like rabbits over your lunch break when Jaehyun’s hips stilled, lifted ever so slightly from the couch, deep inside of you, and you felt on the verge of another orgasm seeing him dig his fingers into your flesh.

“Fuck-” he exhaled, and you bit your lower lip, whimpering as you felt his spurts of cum coating your insides. Then his hips moved again, prolonging his high as much as he could, the vein on his forehead showing you just how much blood was pumping inside of him.

You’ve never felt like that and you’ve never seen him lose control just as much as you did.

“Jaehyun- I think I’ll-” you pressed your palms into his hard chest and he rested back on the couch, looking at your with dark eyes and plump lips.

“Give me another one, beautiful,” he murmured, his cock sliding out of your and his fingers collecting the cum before shoving it back inside.

“Shit-” you closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you and your spine curved making you bite your lower lip until almost tasting blood when he added his other hand, rubbing your sensitive clit.

“I can’t-” you mumbled, “I can’t- please-”

“Yes, baby, cum all over my hands,” he urged, his gaze never leaving your face as if bewitched.

And you did.

────────────

You were grateful for Jaehyun not abandoning you in the office’s bathroom alone to clean up the mess you asked for but the one he did.

“You know I can technically use my cock to take the cum out,” he tried again outside the door.

You rolled your eyes amused. “I said, no thanks, I got it.”

“The tip is anatomically made so that a man is able to take out the cum a previous man-” he started to ramble but his words were cut off when you opened the door. He blinked staring at you and you noticed his ears were a dusty pink.

“Do you always share fizzy drinks bottle cups facts when embarrassed?” you finished adjusting your clothes.

He cleared his voice. “Do you think there would be sex facts on the cups of fizzy drinks? Also, why would I be embarrassed?”

You crossed your arms on your chest for a moment, taking him in.

“Do you perhaps have a little crush on me, Jung Jaehyun?”

He scoffed, putting his hands in his pockets. “No.”

You expected him to say that but the sudden confidence threw you off.

He leaned in. “It’s not a small crush. I thought it was obvious.”

He then straightened his back and opened the office door. “Come on, chief, I think we might get a call from HR anyway because we had a 3 hour long lunch.”

You shook your head, trying to conceal the little giggle your body apparently wanted to let out.

“You have too much faith in your skills. We went at it for like 15 minutes at best.”

Jaehyun stopped in place and turned around slowly.

You stopped too.

And when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a good spank, the yell and laugh that escaped you was probably heard in the whole company.

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