#this does not matter to anything at all i just needed to jot it down somewhere and tumblrs public diary format is so convenient

[friend-dogor]

there's a song i heard once, while showering, in 2019, on a music application i no longer use, which was streaming out songs at random. It had a really strong, thumping rhythm. i think it was fast enough you coulda done CPR to it, or maybe just slightly slower. all i remember of the lyrics was that it said once, or perhaps several times "on a row-boat" thump thump thump thump thump (👈 the quick rhythm). it had that kind of alt, indie, folksy feeling to it that a lot of music i listened to then (and now) had. sorta like Blitzen Trapper

when i heard it in the shower i had that odd sort of "i don't like this song now, but if i hear it again i'll probably start to like it" feeling that happens to me fairly frequently. i made a note to myself to look at the recently played songs on the application, and write that one down, and to listen to it again because why not enjoy music! why not!

well, i was showering to get ready for class. i left. i forgot to check. the song has vanished into the cracks of digital algorithms that have probably been replaced and retooled several times over by this point. as i remember it, i start remembering my memory of it, recalling not the original listening of it, but my recollection of recalling remembering listening to it, and the fragment of song i have, no matter how small, gets more distorted, gently warped to accommodate my musical taste (which is itself, impermanent, ever-changing) more and more over time.

THIS is only notable because every time i tell friends and family about this song, the reaction is nearly unanimously "oh, let me try finding it" and various music apps are searched for any song mentioning a row boat in any capacity. a few months ago, i told my family, and we spent an hour after dinner where everyone took turns playing songs which mentioned row boats (some very good) while i listened for a moment before saying, over and over "no—it Thumps. the song Thumps."

and it has occurred to me that at some point, the song will be lost to me entirely (which is not a huge loss! i did not like the song Yet. i only felt the potential to like it, the same way I feel about New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down by LCD Soundsystem) either because i have forgotten it entirely, or because my memory has created a new song which i like a little more, but which has never existed, so that if somebody ever properly found the song and played it for me, or I came across it myself, i might only passingly consider its familiarity before dismissing it as pale imitation, perhaps inspired by the Definitely much better song i am looking for (which does not fully exist, even in my own head.)

[indigodawns]

.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

building blocks | yjh

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

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

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

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

(tag list at the end)

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

Except…

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bestie boo: i didn’t pay for it

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

“You should watch where you’re going.” 

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

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

“No,” he answers easily. 

“So…” you start. 

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

“You made an impression,” you say neutrally.

“A positive one?” he presses.

“I didn’t say that,” you counter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure sounds like it,” Seungkwan quips. 

“Fuck off, I do,” you double down. 

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

“Does it matter?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s with the look?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” he retorts quickly.

“You’re making a face,” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he muses. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can see why,” you deadpan. 

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

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

“Perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not for 20 more minutes,” he counters. 

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

“Hm,” he says.

“What, Jeonghan?” you ask with exasperation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m asking?” he offers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t figure you out,” you admit. 

“I know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow, that was nice,” you retort.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t like him, Kwan,” you sigh.

“Sure,” he says dismissively. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, of course not,” you concede. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll survive,” you deadpan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan says dismissively.

“I might hate him,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“Van Gogh,” you answer immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know…” you start.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s Jeonghan?” Vernon asks.

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

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

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

“Wait, again?” Vernon asks.

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

“I need new friends,” you grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you watching me?” you challenge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfect! Thank you!” Seungkwan rushes out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go,” he says a minute later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not a psycho,” you snort. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not the time, Chan,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You may be onto something,” you agree.

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

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

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

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

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

“I was worried about you,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you agree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You met Joshua?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The class will end eventually,” you say. 

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

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

“Deal,” he agrees. 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, uh, sure,” he says.

“We don’t have to,” you say quickly.

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

“Sure,” you say curiously.

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” he says after a moment. 

“You can tell me if…” you start.

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

“Just since then?” you tease.

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So come,” you direct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watch?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow,” is all Jeonghan says. 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose I deserved that,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, Seungkwan, right?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

“Chill, Kwan, I’m fine,” you answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be a weirdo,” you retort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, hello Jeonghan,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

“Do I…want to ask?” he finally asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[prettiedup]

do u write for sukunaaaa

if so can we have cum denial wit him. like fingering n teasing reader till she’s crying n babbling 🐾 <3

sugarpie ୨ৎ

not getting sukuna’s attention has you acting out ୨ৎ

yeah probs mii first nd last time writing abt kuna ^.^ i really enjoyed doing dis for u tho ^_^

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚���｡⋆ SUGARPIE ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ --->  rough fingering, pet names (baby, princess, mama), shameless use of the word daddy :P, begging, clit slapping, squirting, daddydom!kuna, lawyer!kuna, orgasm denial

“kuna.” you drag out his name as you climb onto his lap. it’s been hours since he’s given you any sort of attention, you understood that the paperwork he is working on is extremely important. he briefly explained to you days prior about taking on a big case that would bring in a lonesome amount of money once everything was said and done. which is fine, of course you’re gonna support your kuna in whatever he takes on. but what isn’t fine is his attention being diverted to papers instead of you.

he grumbles out while he leans to your side so that he could see what was displayed on his desk. you sit quietly on his lap for a few moments, your mind is racing with how you could get his attention back onto you. a deep rooted, responsible and sensible side of you reminds you that he’s working and he told you that he would be busy on it, you know you’re being selfish but you can’t find it in you to care. if anything it’s sukuna’s fault for spoiling you so much! 

“kuna.” you whine again. your head lays on his hard shoulder while your hands begin slithering against his waist. even through his shirt you could feel the hardened muscles, you loved just running your acrylic tips over his muscles and watching them tense every now and then. “daddy, are you ignoring me?” you ask with a frown that sukuna didn’t need to see, he could hear it in your voice.

“‘f course not, baby. ‘m just busy trying to sign these documents.” sukuna barely pays attention to the words coming out of his mouth as he jots down more and more onto the paper. 

“aren’t you tired?” you huff, “can’t you just take a little break?”

“not right now. i need to stay on top of this case ‘nd fill out as much as i can as fast as i can.” he suddenly leans down a little to grab a paper thats on the far end of his desk. you wrap your arms tighter around him, but you know sukuna would never let you fall. no matter how busy and out of it he seems.

you don’t like that response at all. you roll your eyes at his resistance and settle with resting your head on the crook of his neck. you breathe in his cologne. the colognes’ he wears pairs so well with his natural scent. they smell so warm but masculine in a way. you close your eyes, opting to lay there and enjoy the feeling of his heart thumping and his body movements each time he inhales and exhales. you use the sound of the pen sliding against the paper as white noise.

you hum softly against him. this is better than being in separate rooms, you suppose. you would prefer for his attention to be on you completely but you’ll take what’s given at the moment. usually, you’d be chattering away about minuscule things while sukuna works but he quickly shut that down weeks ago.

“my office is my sanctuary, princess. i don’t care if you come ‘n here but you have to stay quiet so daddy can focus.” the firmness in his tone left no room for debate, which is why you slowly nodded your head while looking up at him.

you were only able to sit still and quiet for a few minutes, you tried, you really did. but you couldn't contain yourself from letting out littles hums and shifting your hips every few minutes. your little thin panties would get snagged on the shape of his cock causing little whimpers to escape from your throat when it does happen. sukuna doesn’t comment on anything you do, only occasionally patting your thigh when he deems you are moving too much.

“kuna, please.” you whine out as you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him fully. you didn’t have to say what you wanted, he knew. he always does.

“‘m working, mama.” he reminds you. irritation is seeping through his usual tone. hearing the slowly growing firmness begin to take over his words causes little hairs to stand up on your body, you both loved and hated when he talked to you like this.

“i don’t care! i need you kuna!” you clutch at his shirt with your hands. the hairs continue to stand.. no way you just raised your voice at him. a twitch of fear settles in your stomach. 

“watch your tone.” he stops writing completely. 

“wouldn’t have gotten loud if you would’ve jus’ paid attention to me.” you mutter under your breath as you begin getting off of his lap.

“the fuck you just say?” 

୨୧

“kuna, i can’t! ‘s too much please!” you cry out as his thick fingers roughly pump into your fat pussy. the sounds of your arousal coating his digits filled the room, you were so fucking wet. he had already managed pull an almost orgasm out of you. he waited until you were breathing heavy and for your legs to be shaking desperately to pull away. 

he doesn’t respond to you, only forcing your legs further with one hand while adding another finger. you squeal and whine while clutching on his wrist. his fingers are so fucking thick inside your sensitive pussy. your clutch at his wrist does nothing to slow him down.

your poor pussy could do nothing but take his aggressive fingers, you thrashed around on his lap which only made him slink an arm around your waist to hold you in place.  fat tears ran down your cheeks as he continued holding your legs open so that he could continue to fill you.

everything about sukuna is thick. not just his fingers, but his cock (especially that), his muscles, his personality. those were just minor reasons that added up to why you loved him. 

hearing the humiliating squelch, squelch, squelch and just feeling your arousal dripping down from your everflowing pussy to his lap. if you weren’t getting fucked stupid by his fingers you would’ve been embarrassed from the growing wet spot that is forming on his slacks. 

“talkin’ t’me crazy.. have you lost your fucking mind?” he asks. with every word he’s hammering his fingers as deep as he possibly could, it’s almost to the point that it hurts. you whimper out a soft “daddy” and try to close your legs to prevent him from continuing to abuse your poor pussy.

you can’t find it in you to say a response, instead, you let out loud mewls and sobs. sukuna doesn’t take much appreciation to his words being met with silence, with a rough huff he pulls out the hand that’s fucking you to oblivion to give you three rough slaps against your right thigh.

a piercing sob breaks through your lips,“yes! daddy! ah! yes! i'm sorry daddy!” you didn’t even know what you were saying. loud sniffles mixed with the words you slobbered out. you were a complete mess, you loved when sukuna got you like this.

“‘s okay, though. don’t worry, baby. daddy’s going to make sure you remember your manners.” he plunges his fingers back into you with no warning prompting an unexpected orgasm to shoot from your sensitive pussy. he groans and begins slapping at your clit. squeals escape from deep in your throat. he remembers specifically telling you not to cum until he said so.

“daddy! oh! ah! ah! i’m sorry!” you try to crawl away from the intensity of your orgasm. sukuna clicks his teeth and roughly pushes you back up so that your back is aligned evenly to his chest. you’re fully sobbing now as a stream leaks out and sprays onto his fingers, lap, and parts of his paperwork. 

“no more, kuna, puhllleeaaa-ahhmygodd..” your sentence is broken when he powers his movements back up. you’re still leaking out your orgasm when he adds a third finger. “daddy! kuna! baby! pleaseee, no more!” drool leaks from the corners of your mouth as you are dumbly babbling out to him.

“tch.” he sighs. “cummin’ even when i told you not to. you must really not be my good girl now? hm?” you could hear the smirk in sukuna’s voice. usually when he finds your actions amusing, you’d pout at him. but you were so fucked out all you could do is continue to grip his wrist weakly.

“‘s too much, kuna. toooo muchhhh.” you groan. you try closing your legs around his hand once again and this time sukuna bites down on your shoulder making you squirm. he didn’t bite down hard, he made sure to only use enough force to make you stop moving.

“keep ignorin’ me.” he warns. “your second time now. even while getting punished, you’re still actin’ up.” he jeered. “maybe you’re not my good girl after all.” 

“‘m your good girl. promise. ‘m your good girl.” you sniffle, he was still rubbing his fingers against your walls filling you up jussttt right. your eyes glance down and you could see his hand sparkling with your arousal and to make matters more intense his fingers are etched with your cream. you could only whine at the sight.

he places soft kisses on the side of your neck and jaw. “watch me fuck my pussy.” he mumbles while placing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. “gonna make sure my pussy gets all the attention it's been beggin’ for, and you better not fucking cum again until i say so.”

[thef1diary]

A Spoiled Surprise | M. Verstappen

Summary: Max, your roommate, wanted to decorate the house to celebrate your birthday. Inconveniently, you walked in before he was fully prepared.

— part of the Birthday Bash fics

pairing: max x fem!roommate!reader

wc: 1.5k

main masterlist taglist form

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

As your birthday approached, the familiar pang of homesickness settled in your heart. Being away from home meant that you couldn't celebrate with your childhood friends or family, and the thought of spending the day alone in your apartment weighed heavily on your mind. But little did you know, your roommate Max had made plans to make your birthday still feel like a proper celebration.

Max had been sneaking around the apartment for days, trying to plan a surprise for you, but it was harder than it seemed.

His determination to make your birthday special fueled his every move as he threw himself into the preparations with gusto. While you were in your room, he rummaged through cabinets and drawers, attempting to gather supplies, but he barely found anything.

Max set to work, his mind buzzing with ideas and possibilities. He meticulously planned every detail, jotting down all the decorations he needed to buy. Nothing was left to chance — this had to be perfect.

He left the apartment a day before your birthday, wanting to buy all the supplies he needed to decorate and to make a homemade cake. With his arms laden with bags filled with streamers, balloons and whatnot, Max made his way back to the apartment. Fortunately, you weren't in the apartment at the time, allowing him to hide the items until he needed to decorate.

When you returned, he was inconspicuously relaxing on the couch, but it still made you raise your eyebrows. "Did you end up going to the store?"

"Yeah, why?" He asked, attempting to be nonchalant.

"You didn't restock anything…” you trailed off, having checked the pantry. "Oh, um, I forgot," he reasoned.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at his response, but you decided to let it slide for the time being. "It's fine, I'll go tomorrow."

He nodded, a small smile growing on his face because it'll give him a chance to decorate once you're out of the house. However, he does feel bad that he's making you run errands on your birthday.

The next day, Max sat at the kitchen table, his gaze fixed on the calendar displayed on his phone screen. He couldn't help but notice the red circle marking today's date — your birthday. A mixture of excitement churned in his stomach as he could finally decorate.

As he heard your footsteps approaching, Max quickly minimized the calendar app and forced a casual smile. "Hey, are you going out now?," he asked, hoping that you would be out of the house soon.

You nodded, "yeah, just grabbing my keys," you gestured to the car keys sitting on the table.

"Alright, see ya," Max waved playfully, earning a confused expression from you.

Max watched you go, and once he heard the door to the apartment close, and the familiar sound of the key locking the door, he stood up.

He wasted no time in beginning to decorate the apartment. He started with making the cake first, mixing up the batter and putting it in the oven. While it was baking, he hung streamers from the ceiling and started inflating the balloons using the pump.

Despite his best efforts, time seemed to slip through Max's fingers like grains of sand. With each passing minute, the pressure mounted, and he found himself racing against the clock to finish decorating before you returned home.

He taped the 'Happy Birthday' banner to the wall and smiled since it was coming together. The ring from the timer startled him, indicating that the cake was finished baking, reminding him to pick up the pace.

He popped the cake out of the pan onto a cooling rack and let it sit on the counter while he went back to the balloons.

No matter how hard he worked, it seemed as if there were always more decorations to hang, more balloons to inflate, more details to attend to. With each passing moment, the pressure mounted, threatening to overwhelm him.

And then, just when it seemed as if he would finish in time, Max heard the sound of keys jingling in the lock. His heart leaped into his throat as he realized that you were back earlier than expected.

With a sense of dread coursing through him, Max frantically tried to put the finishing touches on the decorations, attempting to pump air into the balloon he was holding, but it was too late.

You walked into the apartment, holding a couple bags full of groceries with a curious expression on your face as you took in the scene before you.

"What's all this?" you asked, your eyes widening in surprise as you surveyed the half-finished decorations.

Max's heart sank as he met your gaze, knowing that he had failed to finish decorating in time. "I, uh, well, I wanted to do something special for your birthday," he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You stood in the doorway, a mixture of surprise and confusion flickering across your features as you took in the scene before you. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons littered the floor, and a plain cake sat on the counter, the aroma of freshly baked vanilla filling the air.

A small smile grew onto your face when you noticed the banner, and your eyes softened as you took in the chaotic scene before you, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of Max's efforts.

"Max, that's incredibly sweet of you," you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I had no idea you were planning all of this."

Max breathed a sigh of relief at your response, the tension melting away from his shoulders as he realized that you weren't upset with him. "I just wanted to make sure you had a great birthday, you know, being away from home and all," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity.

You quickly placed the bags on the countertop, and stepped forward to inspect the decorations. "Well, you definitely succeeded," you said, reaching out to give Max's arm a reassuring squeeze. "I love it, even if it's not finished."

Max couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude at your words, a sense of pride swelling within him at the knowledge that he had succeeded in making your birthday special. "Thanks," he replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "I'm glad you like it."

As you both surveyed the scene before you, disaster struck. The balloon Max had been holding slipped from his grasp, and suddenly it was soaring through the air, bouncing off the walls and ceiling like a mischievous spirit.

You both stood there stunned for a moment, watching in disbelief as the balloon's chaotic flight filled the room. And then, without warning, you burst into laughter, the sound filling the room like music to Max's ears.

He couldn't help but join in, his own laughter mingling with yours as he watched the balloon land on the couch, deflated. In that moment, all the tension and uncertainty that had been weighing on him melted away, leaving nothing but a sense of pure joy and exhilaration in its wake.

Once the laughter died down, Max nudged you. "I still have to decorate the cake," he stated, glancing at the cooling cake resting on the countertop.

"Let's do it together," you suggested.

As you and Max worked side by side, carefully icing the cake, the atmosphere in the kitchen was filled with laughter and chatter. "Is this why you 'forgot' the groceries?" You asked, dipping a spoon into the bowl of icing and carefully spreading it over the top of the cake.

Max had a sheepish smile on his face, "I was busy buying the decorations, so I actually forgot about why you sent me to the store in the first place."

You shook your head with a smile, and reached across to grab a napkin, but as you did, your hand accidentally brushed against Max's face, smearing a steak of icing across his cheek.

You gasped once you saw his face, then burst out into laughter again, your stomach already beginning to hurt with how much you laughed.

He instinctively reached up to touch his cheek, but instead of looking upset, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh no you didn't," he muttered. Before you could react, Max dipped his finger into the bowl of icing and flicked a dollop of it onto your nose.

"I see how it is," you stated, a playful grin spreading across your face.

With a laugh, the two of you engaged in an impromptu icing fight, smearing frosting on each other's faces and giggling like children. By the time you were finished, both of you had icing all over your clothes, hair, and even on the kitchen floor, but you couldn't remember the last time you had laughed so hard.

As the laughter subsided and you caught your breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over you. Despite being away from home, living with someone who was once a stranger, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

You held your arms out, stepping closer and embracing Max. He made a disgusted face, "you're all sticky."

You chuckled, "so are you, now shut up and hug me back."

He obliged, wrapping his arms around you too. "Thank you, this means a lot to me," you mumbled against his shirt.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @helenemandl6 @charlesleclercsonlywife @dreamingonbed @regalbanshee @landoslutmeout @barcelonaloverf1life @megudaeggu @c-losur3

[russellsppttemplates]

Love notes (Charles Leclerc)

A look into Charles' notebook allows words and feelings to be exposed

Note: english is not my first language. The request didn't specify this, but friends to lovers was the first thing that popped into my mind and I know I'm not the only one whose favourite trope is that one so I did it ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: mentions Charles' father and his passing and implications of the loss of someone close to the reader

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"And you want me to tell you that code?", you asked Charles over the phone.

Your boyfriend needed to go to the bank to sort a few errands out, and since you had finished moving the last boxes of your belongings to his apartment, you stayed back to tidy them and organise them within the apartment. As it turns out, he forgot to take the documents with the codes.

"Yes, please amour - it's in my notebook on my desk on the office", Charles asked, "I think I went as far as taking the paper out a little so it peeks out but I forgot to take it with me", you could hear the smile and blush on his face.

"Let me go there - don't you mind me looking on your notebook though?", you said as you moved through the apartment, "by the way, I have already found some space in the kitchen for mug collection - yay! Okay, found the notebook - is it the document with your signature or the one that has the details?", you questioned.

"The one with the signature, at the end, left side", Charles repeated what the bank assistant was telling him so he could help you find what he wanted, "and it's the third and fifth number on the Mobile Key".

"Okay, I have it - it's 4 and 1", you informed him, "those are the third and fifth numbers".

"Merci amour, I don't think I need anything else! Once I finish up here, I'll head home to you, I love you! And Y/N, I trust you with everything I have - I have nothing to hide", he offered, making you bid him goodbye before ending the call.

His words ressonated with you as you flickered through the pages, noticing some doddles and racing notes before you decided to look at it from the beggining.

The first page had what looked like a poem and it dated back to the end of 2016.

My father told me to be careful

- Try to slow down a little

You don't ponder nor stay still

You don't belong or give yourself to anywhere

He said - my boy, you know what you're capable of

The world awaits you, go ahead and smile

You don't want to be left behind

It's not been easy dealing with everything. There's hope and there's the want to do more to prove everyone that I belong in Formula One. Still, I'm happy that Prema decided to have me race for them next year in Formula Two and things should go up from there. Time and patience, work and rest. Spending time with the people I love most and care about me the most.

Y/N also progressed on her studies and she's doing really well - she makes our friend group very proud! The guys are investing on their careers too and it's nice to see that, in a way, we're all growing up.

The page went on about all the whereabouts of the group, who had gotten together with someone, who had moved out of their parents' house and the ones who got work offers. There were jotted up plans for the summer holidays that, in hindsight, were mostly realized.

When you turned it to the next one, the poem continued with the same tone.

My mother said to me

- You have to see what's happening

That girl is much more than a friend

And you don't want to lose her

She reads it in my eyes

Or in my open soul

I don't know how she does it

But no matter how much I deny it

My mother is always right

I really like Y/N. Not just as a friend, but also as someone who I want to share my life with.

Whenever someone wonders how I think my life will be like in five, ten, fifteen years, she's always there. There's racing - me climbing up the ladder to points, podiums, wins and championships -, and there is my family.

Y/N and our own family.

Mum claims she noticed it since we were kids and that right now is the right time. Y/N is single again and I can't afford to lose her. Lose her as a friend or lose the opportunity to confess my feelings, or the worst one: lose her because she doesn't feel the same or feel like being in a relationship right now?

It's funny how this works, how much I care about her and how it hurts me when she isn't feeling well. Or how bad I feel because I keep missing some of her university milestones because I'm racing somewhere in the world but she always call me and I'm right in her hand while her family and our friends are in the stands or waiting area.

Even though I'm the one that's furthest away, she keeps me close.

Charles had notes about you? He always carried the little notebook around but you assumed it was because of important information he wrote there. You didn't expect this.

His words rang in your ears as, while your boyfriend had told you he had been crushing on you for a while, he had never admitted feeling this doubt. Not to this extent.

Suddenly, it felt like you were taking a look from a different angle at Charles' soul. The intimacy and vulnerability wasn't foreign and you fell in love with him a little bit more.

Today is the day to get closer

To face her and see what she says

And if luck follows me

As I'm writing this, I hope Y/N is getting ready to meet me in the park. She looks beautiful in anything, but I'm hoping she wears one of her dresses that make her look like a real life princess.

Maybe we will be happy

What I have planned isn't elaborate, because I don't think she would like a big production, and I hope it's enough to show her where I stand.

I asked maman for some help with the cakes and cookies and got the rest from the shop, we're going to have a picnic and I've decided today is the day where I tell her how I fell about her.

There is no point in hiding it, and Joris and Riccardo seem so sure that she shares the same affection.

Today is the day to grab her

I hope she does.

To be with the one I always wanted

And if the nervous voice doesn't fail

Y/N said yes to being my girlfriend!!! As it turns out, she does feel the same and we both agree that it was a mixture of stubbornness and bad timing for eachother. Now, it's the right place and the right time.

I hope we will be happy

The memory is clear as day on your mind.

I confessed how much I love her and she reciprocated it.

Charles asked you to meet up with him at the park because he wanted to talk to you. The seriousness of the text was confirmed when you arrived, Charles pacing around the picnic blanket until his eyes found yours.

"I can't pretend anymore", he said, "you're the first person I look for when I get somewhere I know you will be too, I can't stand to see you hurt or upset and I will kick myself every day if I'm ever the reason you hurt, which I hope I'll never be. You deserve the world, Y/N, the moon and the stars, and I'm going to get them for you because I love you", he offered.

You had been so dumbfounded that you could only approach him and kiss his lips, cupping his face closer to yours, "I've been in love with you for so long, Charles", you whispered back.

It was the day where your love story truly began despite having existed for all of your childhood. You were his and he was yours.

Come with me, love is not time

Continuing to look through the notebook, you spotted some racing notes with numbers and acronyms you weren't sure that they meant, taking a while to find another page that had similar writing.

It's not even time that does it

Come with me, love is the moment

In which I give myself

Y/N is asleep right now as we fly back home after the race. She hasn't left my side and I think this is the first time she's sleeping since we got the news. We knew it was coming, but it doesn't mean that it hurts any less.

In which you give yourself

The feeling is unbearable. Someone who gives you so much also takes so much away from you when they go away. There's so much to go through, and all of the feelings haven't come up yet.

Maman is waiting for us with Lorenzo and Arthur, and I hope we will all find peace with this heavy feeling together.

Y/N told me the feeling may never leave, it creeps up when you least expect it and there are no rules to it.

Time is precious and I want to spend as much time as I can with the ones I love. God knows I did that with papa and it still feels like it wasn't enough.

The creak of the floorboards alerted you that someone else was inside the apartment before Charles' head peeked, "Hello, mon ange", he smiled, coming up to kiss your forehead.

It's these moments where we're not doing anything particular or special that mean the most. Y/N has given me all she's got and I've given her all of me, at the end it's the most human thing to do. Be there. Be present. Allow the other to feel everything they need to feel and protect them. Y/N has protected me and she's never let me doubt that we are for each other.

"I looked through these - I didn't mean to invade your privacy but I got curious", you admitted. It would be no use to lie about it or try to hide it away.

Time will wait, stop there

"Did you like what you found?", Charles asked, pulling the other office chair to sit at the table with you, "I have this one here that I really like actually", he flickered through the pages.

So I can stay like this looking at you

Time knows well, even time understands

That someone doesn't rush

"I wrote this one when we were on holiday, it the boat", Charles tapped the page, "you looked so beautiful that day and I felt like I was running out of time to appreciate you. Then I spent the whole afternoon watching you and I felt like time slowed down a little bit because it knew I was appreciating you", he charmed.

That looks at you like I do

"These are very beautiful, Charles - this one is so beautiful", you smiled, kissing his cheek and cuddling up to his arm as he continued to leaf through the notebook.

Call me an adventure and come and have an adventure

There were also drawings and loose poems along with some photos he kept of you two. One of the hike you had done in Ibiza last year caught your eye. You stood on top of the rock and by the way your arms were positioned, you were calling Charles to join you in there while he snapped the picture.

Change my plans and I promise I'll believe

That I'm the only one you want to see when you wake up

Your haven if the world collapses

Come and deceive me with that look of yours

The sweet way that trips me and without counting

Quench my thirst with a kiss to shut me up

Make me a poem and let me stay

I do not forget

But I want to hear from your mouth all the words that make me blush

Speak softly in my ear

And grab my hand

"This was last year, one of the seasons where I had to deal with so much disappointment in racing, and you never let go. You were there to hold me everytime things didn't go well, to celebrate my achievements and my podiums, and you still make it feel like an adventure every single day", Charles mused, "being loved by you is assuring, comforting, liberating, soothing, amazing, incredible and the best feeling I have on the world! Loving you? It's as incredible as it is a big responsibility because I have to make sure the adventure is still there and that we're both in it", Charles admitted.

Before the night is over

"Being loved by you makes me feel like the only other person in the world", you looked up at him.

"Loving you is making sure the time stops when you're with me so I can tell you all the silly stories I know just to make you smile, all of this to make sure you know you're the reason behind my happiness and the one behind the longing that never lies when you're not there. It's hugging you back tight and have my heart wide open because it's yours to take", he sighed with a smile on his face.

"I love you, Charles - being loved by you is the best thing I get to experience in this life", you smiled before kissing his lips.

"This helps me a lot when you're not with me, it's like I can talk to you", Charles muttered, "and I get to have the memories written out too, you never know when this can come in handy".

"You have no excuse if your speech in our wedding feels impersonal or doesn't have any memories then", you joked as Charles' finger lightly pressed down on the remaining pages of the notebook, making sure you don't get the idea to flicker through the random pages he has used to doodle the perfect engagement ring for you, smiling at the thought of having you be his forever.

"I definitely don't, amour - I'll make sure it's a good one when the time comes", he smiled.

[iichfilwypj]

make or not the bracelet! | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: none! ღ wc: 700 pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

“Not a chance” he said once more, tidying up the chaos that was his cabin. She was right on his heels, her lower lip jutting out in a dramatic pout. Each time he managed to tidy up a spot, she undid his efforts.

“Please, I'm begging you!” In a few short days, they would be at his house. Meeting your best friend’s mom might not sound like a big deal, but she was terrified. Her solution? Making bracelets as a gift for Sally! “She’s going to love them!”

As he folded a t-shirt again, he responded, “Sure, but what’s the point? We can just buy her some.” He understood the difference when a cushion slammed into his head. He returned the gesture with the folded t-shirt. “Why does it matter so much? She’s literally my mom, we don’t need to bring her anything.”

“But, you know…” her voice trembled, giving her away. Seeing how she raised her hand and nervously bit her nails, he understood everything.

“No way you are nervous” He approached her, gently holding her wrist in his hand. He searched her eyes for a response, but her gaze was fixed on the floor. “It’s just my mom.”

He understood that she was intimidated by meeting new people, but his mom? Oh, his mom would love her! Percy had been talking with Sally about her nonstop for weeks, and he couldn’t recall a single bad thing being mentioned; he couldn't remember having any bad thoughts about her at all. 

He mentally jotted down a reminder to discuss this later, but for now, he wanted to calm her down. “I know how you’re feeling, but I promise she’ll adore you. And I’m not saying this just because she’s my mom; she’s the kindest woman in the world –she literally likes Annabeth, so you can believe me–. You’ll love her, and she’ll love you too, okay?” 

She finally looked up to find his eyes. Her eyebrows were knitted together with concern, and he brushed his finger between them to erase the crease. She smiled at his gesture and nodded. 

He pulled a silly face and vigorously shook his head. “Mhm, no, I need to hear you say it.”

“Okay, Perseus Jackson.” Grabbing a random book from the bed and using it as a fan, she replied to him. “Is that enough, or do I need to send you a formal notice, nice gentleman?”

“That would be perfect, thank you ma’am” He bowed in a way that made laughter impossible to resist. In silence, they sat down, sharing an unspoken agreement that the mess could wait until later. 

The cabin fell silent, and memories from the previous day flooded his mind. Just as he was about to say something, she spoke up.

“But hold on, can we make the bracelet?”

“Nop.”

“How the hell do you tie this shit?” Percy was biting his tongue so intensely that she almost told him to stop. For someone who had refused for hours, he seemed overly invested in the task. 

They were sitting on the beach, and everything felt very relaxing. Well, except for him. He was not relaxing at all. 

“I thought you didn’t want to do this?” she remarked, glancing at her own bracelet. Suddenly, a hand hit her arm, nearly making her drop everything. “Hey!”

“I'm making it because you made me!” she shot him an offended look as he struggled to hide a smile. He really didn’t want to make one, but since his friend did, his fingers would have to suffer a little longer.

Without thinking, she launched herself at him. The force of their movement was too much; the delicate strings tore apart, sending beads and threads scattering across the sand. 

“My bracelet!” Percy shouted as she stood up, slowly backing away. He jumped to his feet and dashed after her, who was already trying to escape. “I’m going to kill you!”

They didn’t care that other campers could hear their laughter, and they didn't mind that their clothes were now covered in sand. The nymphs in the water watched with delight as they fell to the ground, launching into a lively tickle fight that echoed with screams and joy. 

Oh, the gossip in the ocean was only getting better and better.

hi! i don't know, i might delete it and re-write it because i like the idea but not the result. i want to sleep so bad but i have insomnia :( anyways! i have no idea how to put those pretty divider but i did my best! ALSOO tell me what you wanna seeee! some fights, more fluff, comfort, anything! AND I SWAR i'm gonna make them kiss soon :))) love u all <3333

[writer-komaru]

.♱ 𓆩𖤍𓆪 ♱. Moonlight Kisses ｡✧ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ﾟ｡⋆ 𖤐

✧Rating: Fluff + Smut

✧Characters: Edgar Allen Poe

✧Word Count: 3.9k

✧Summary: Headcanons about Poe and Karl because they’re precious.

Platonic + Romantic + Sexual + Karl

.𖤣 .𖥧 𖡼. ⚘.° :Platonic

✿ Poe’s main interest in life is to write. More specifically, write a mystery novel even the great detective Ranpo can’t crack to get his sweet, long-awaited revenge.

✿ He spends hours, long, grueling hours, slumped over his desk with adorable raccoon freind curled up on his lap, writing none stop. His feathered pen flutters through the air as its ink soaked tip etches Poe’s ideas into words. It’s almost beautiful.

✿ His sleep deprived eyes struggling to stay open, hyper focused on the air taking shape in front of him

✿ Just like a sculptor, he chisels away at the manila paper with the hopes of soon creating a magnificent statue to stand the test of time.

✿ That uplifting dream helps keep his head high and his pen working overtime

✿ But even a talented writer like him often has his off days. Days where he feels his river of rushing inspiration run dry; days where the negation of his health finally finds the opportunity to pounce.

✿ Usually when he finds himself stuck at the bottom of an ocean of despair, he hesitatingly leaves his room and takes a stroll around his mansion.

✿(btw I headcanon, I’m pretty sure it’s cannon but idk, he lives in a secluded mansion on the outside of town with a view of the ocean by his window and a lush garden of roses in his front yard. He usually doesn’t take very good care of it cuz he spends most of his time writing but sometimes he likes to stop by and admire the new buds)

✿(I also headcannon he has tons of shelves and climbing equipment set up up the wall and on the ceiling of his study so if Karl gets bored he can scamper up there and have some play time)

✿He takes note of anything that catches his eye; whether that be intricate designs of the wooden trim on the walls, the feeling of smooth tiles under his shoes, the sounds of leaves rustling against the windows, the faint scent of mahogany and spruce hanging in the air from the numerous candles he likes to light.

✿ Although these senses may sound boring, all it takes is a small spark of intrigue to set of an explosion of fireworks in his mind that leave him rushing back to his chamber to jot it all down, Karl scampering after him excitedly.

✿ But on days he doesn’t even have the will to get out of bed, it leaves Karl with the duty of getting him back on his feet.

✿ He’ll give him tons of fluffy cuddles and licks on the cheek, deliver him snacks leftover from Ranpo’s last visit, and eventually yank him out of bed by the sleeve of his pajama shirt when it’s time to get some sun.

✿ He’s perfectly content with this lifestyle and finds comfort in his solitude. Big crowds of loud, unfamiliar people make him uncomfortable and afraid. All he really needs is his writing, Karl, and Ranpo.

✿ There’s just one thing. The more he ventures outside of his sanctum, the more he begins to long for something.

✿ It’s a solemn feeling; Like the sad cry of a lost wolf pup, endlessly marching through a thick and dark forest, calling out for any signs of its pack. He can practically feel the cold biting at his torn paw pads and the thicket’s thorns scratching at his back.

✿ No matter how many sweet nuzzles Karl gives him, the feeling still persists.

✿ That was until he finally ran into you. In that moment where his eyes gazed into yours, his breathing stopped. The heavy, painful feeling of loneliness suddenly falters, like the metal cuffs weighing from his wrists and ankles unlock.

✿ Even though he has the conversation skills of both a theater kid and a wet rag, he does his best to keep up.

✿ His long, dark locks covering his eyes don’t do much to shield the slight red glow of embarrassment from his cheeks

✿ When he gets nervous, he likes to glide his fingers loosely through Karl’s dense fur. He makes sure to give him a nice brushing when it gets too tangled so it’s usually in pretty good condition. The quiet action helps steady his nerves, and Karl’s almost too willing to get some extra attention.

✿ After meeting you, he begins to leave the house more often.

✿ He loves to rant to you about the next chapter of his novel and how the newest twist will finally prove itself too difficult for Ranpo to deduce. He’ll go into detail, explaining each and every complexity, red herring, and hidden meaning of his writing which will probably go straight over your head. Following everything up with a villainous cackle.

✿ After noticing your lost expression, he apologies enthusiastically and laughs it off.

✿ When Ranpo learns of the new friend Poe made, he will invite both of you out with him to a local arcade. Even though he acts all cheerful and aloof as he urges you to play games with him, he secretly hides the fact he’s just using this as an excuse to scope you out.

✿ He can’t have some unworthy person try to come along and steal his close friend away from him, no matter how childish that sounds. He also just wants the best for Poe.

✿ If you pass his vibe check, you’re now added to the list of people Ranpo actually enjoys spending time with (good for you)

✿ Now that you’re officially a certified friend of Poe, you’ll have to take on some of the responsibilities Karl once did when Poe gets stuck in a stupor of blank pages.

✿ Make sure to get him some groceries (using his card ofc with his consent) and kind words.

✿ Sometimes all it takes to displace the dark, thunderous worries in his mind is a pat on the shoulder and a few words along the lines of “I’m proud of you.”

✿ He’ll look back at you with such a sickeningly sweet smile as tears gush from his shining, dark eyes.

✿ Expect a neatly folded envelope with a ruby red seal and a few jet black raven feathers decorated under it on your doorstep. In it contains a handwritten thank you letter from Poe. (He’s so extra I love him)

✿ But can you blame him? He’s just so glad to have another friend he can count on! <3

° .; ʚ❤︎ɞ ‘｡˚ :Romantic

➷ Having Poe as a boyfriend has to be one of the most exquisitely beautiful yet taxing experiences in the world of dating

➷ He’s a major hopeless romantic and would always find him mind drifting off to thoughts of you while trying to work on his novel.

➷ When he eventually realizes he got off draft he’s already covered the whole page in praises, poems, and hearts. He grumbles to himself for making such an embarrassing mistake and tears out the page.

➷ Right when he was about to crumble it, he stops himself and instead tucks it neatly into his desk, never to see the light of day again.

➷ He turns to a new page and takes a deep breath to calm his mind. Yet, his pen remains stationary. His eyebrows knit together as he tries desperately to push away the surplus thoughts of you and his love for you out of his mind.

➷ “Why can’t I just focus on what’s in front of me…?” He groans in defeat as he flops against his desk. Karl brushes his fluffy tail over his back, nudging his ear with his nose.

➷ “I’m fine, Karl. Just a bit distracted, it seems,” he mumbles, covering his growing blush with his arms.

➷ Is he really reduced to a complete flustered mess, just by the mere thoughts of you? He whimpers at the idea.

➷ Just give him some time to wallow in self pity and he’ll finally pull himself together.

➷ He decides to vent out his feelings into stacks upon stacks of love letters, poems, and sketches, all embodying his undying love for the beauty known as you.

➷ Now that his mind is free of clutter, he can begin work on his novel once more. But, out of the corner of his eye, he doesn’t quite catch the faint blur of gray fur that swipes one of the poems and speeds off to an unknown location.

➷ After around two hours, Poe wipes his brow and stands up from his desk, finally ready to take a needed break for some food and rest. When he reaches to his shoulder to pet Karl, the spot he usually rests while cuddling around Poe’s neck, he finds it worryingly empty.

➷ The adrenaline spike of a mother’s primal instincts shoots directly into his veins like a drug as he jumps up from his chair and scrambles all over the house in search of his beloved friend.

➷ Sooner or later he finds Karl curled up by the fireplace with nearly folded piece of paper in his mouth. Poe gently takes it from him and gasps as he reads it. It… it was a poem… with your name on it? Did Karl steal one of his love poems?!

➷ Without fully reading over the poem, he hurries back to his study and shoves it into his desk, along with the rest of the incriminating material of his love.

➷ “Not a soul shall hear of this, especially not t-them…” He murmurs to himself before preparing a cup of tea to calm down his racing heart.

➷ After a large quantity of time goes by and he warms up to being more open with his love, he’ll make it his duty to write one poem for you each day and have Karl deliver it to you. He could be swamped in work, suffering from a fever, or caught up in a fiasco with the guild and he would still find the time to jot down a few words for your eyes and heart only.

➷ Plus, he makes sure to give each letter a stamp of approval from Karl by dipping his paw pad in some animal safe ink.

➷ No matter how much time he spends with you it’s just not enough for his poor enthralled heart.

➷ Often, he’d find himself lying awake a night, thoughts and dreams of you echoing and spinning through his mind like a carousel.

➷ Just a light touch on the hand can turn his poor cheeks bright red. The picture of his blushing, flustered face barely concealed by his unkempt dark hair is enough to make anyone want to tease the life out of this man

➷ On days he’s not as busy and a little more confident than usual, he’ll take you out somewhere nice. And when I say nice, I mean NICEEE.

➷ We all know this guy is loaded and he’s 100% willing to spend every dime of it on you.

➷ Thousands of servings of food, luxury clothing brands, sparkling jewelry, spa trips every day, fuck it, even a private jet if you really wanted. Just remember to not be too demanding because he can get pretty reckless with money.

➷ One time you told him how much you loved bunnies and the next time you went into your living room it was completely full of bunny merch of all kinds. Plushies, blankets, clothes, I could go on for days.

➷ All and all, his love language is most definitely giving gifts or words of affirmations.

.༺ཐི♡ཋྀ༻. :Sexual

ღ This guy is such a bottom in the kindest way I can put it. Everything about you sends currents of love streaming through his body, setting it ablaze. He’s completely at the mercy of this feeling, at the mercy of you.

ღ The only time he won’t be a bottom is when he’s going through a spout of confidence from either one upping Ranpo somehow or syncing himself up. But even then you won’t get anything more than a service dom.

ღ Let’s start of with his bottom side.

ღ He’s always pining for you, daydreaming about how lovely you are to him and how angelic you look. But his thoughts don’t always stay pure and fluffy.

ღ On days he’s especially pent up from working long days and nights on his writing, he can often find himself sucked into the honey trap of more… explicit fantasies of you.

ღ Sometimes it’s him tied up with you looming over him, sometimes you’re stroking him under the table during a guild meeting, sometimes you’re giving him head under his desk when he’s supposed to be finishing his novel, and sometimes you’re littering his pink tilted skin in hickies and lipstick stains.

ღ He whines in annoyance at the prominent bulge in his pants he now has to take care of.

ღ But maybe, if you’d be fine with it, you could make some of his fantasies come true…?

ღ He let’s put a yelp as he feels your hands slide up his thighs and your smirking face appear between them.

ღ his workaholic brain tries to resist the temptation in front of him in favor of working just a little bit more but… as soon as his fly is down and your intoxicatingly warm tongue laps against his head, he’s once again completely at your mercy.

ღ Even though he may have needy fantasies about you, I don’t see him having a very high libedo. You can expect to have sex maybe every week or so, adjusting around your needs instead of his.

ღ This brings me to discuss his service Dom side.

ღ When he’s in his confident mindset, you can find your back pressed against his mattress and his hands interlocked with his own as his lips trace against your jaw.

ღ You didn’t hear it from me, but his dirty talk is leagues ahead of most people in BSD.

ღ “What an alluring temptress I have below me, if I wasn’t the gentleman I am I would have taken you against every surface of my mansion until we’re both breathless and shaking~”

ღ “I can’t wait to bathe every inch and curve of your body in so much love and pleasure to the point your crying my name so loud even the angels in heaven will get jealous~”

ღ “Just like that, my beautiful goddess, I- Hahh I’m devoted to you and you only. I’ll pray and worship you every… se-second, hour, day of my life, I promise- Promise promise promise I’ll serve you! I’ll please you, I’ll make you feel an unending amount of ecstasy I swear to you!”

ღ “My angel, my love, my life, my everything, let your burning love out!! Nghhh~ Let it burst from your cunt, drip onto the mattress. I’ll clean it up later, I swear! J-just relax and cum for me, I-I Aghh!!! I just can’t hold on much longer! Please cum please cum please- Aghh!!~ I-I gonna cummmmm!!~”

ღ I totally see him as a virgin until he meets you. Either you’ll have to teach him or you’ll try to educate himself.

ღ How will he do that? Well, let’s just say there’s a certain shelf of his room no one, not even Karl, is allowed near. After exploring the world of more… erotic writing, that’s when he started to have fantasies about you.

ღ If you have a corruption kink, you better get to him before his private writing collection does~

ღ It’s pretty easy to make him lose his mind if I’m being honest.

ღ it can be done by giving him a sudden, deep kiss on the lips, a hug from behind where your hands wander further than his stomach, maybe even having him catch you in nothing but a bra and panties.

ღ Now that’s a great way to stay in his mind for hours~

ღ One of his guilty pleasures is marks. Hickies are his favorite because the pain that comes with scratches and bruises takes him out of his romantic mood. On days where he’s out and about with his dearest friend Ranpo and he catches the faint glimpse of a reddish bruise under the pearly white collar of his button up. Dread seeps into every corner of his body like a rock sinking to the bottom of a pond as a sinister smirk stretches across Ranpo’s face.

ღ “My my my, did someone have some fun last night?~ I never took you for the-“ Ranpo’s smirk widens as a hand quickly covers his mouth.

ღ “D-Don’t… allow me to keep at least some of my dignity…” Poe stammers out, using his other hand to cover his incriminating blush.

ღ But he could be caught in the act a million times before he ever even for a second regretted the nights of sinful passion you two spend together. Reaching a new level of nirvana with you proudly riding the life out of him makes him the happiest, most lucky man in all of the world. Even if you tease him, deny him, even degrade him, he’ll still love you more than anything.

ღ “Look at how desperate you are, cumming back to back like this is the best pussy you’ve ever gotten. Is it good? Do I make you feel good, my love?~” You coo to him, stroking his heated cheek.

ღ The lovesick expression on his face, drool dripping down his chin, a cherry red blush, his clumped locks sticking to the sweat of his forehead, it all says more than even a million, trillion love poems could ever hope of communicating.

ʕ(◕ᴥ◕)ʔ Karl

꩜ He absolutely ADORES both you and Poe

꩜ I'd like to think the story of how Poe met Karl is a long and detailed one, but I’ll try to keep it short

꩜ One day after being rejected by the 27th publisher, Poe began his sad walk home.

꩜ He knows he shouldn’t give up home and that soon enough someone would be interested in his stories, but the crushing despair of not being good enough ate away at him.

꩜ he keeps his head low and to the ground, to ashamed of himself to meet anyone’s eye. That was until he noticed the hard concrete sidewalk had now turned into a loamy, grassy mix.

꩜ When he looked back up, he found himself lost in a dark forest of looming trees, pointed thickets, and changing owls.

꩜ All around him was a never ending void, disturbed by only the chirping of small animals and the rustling of bushes.

꩜ He was completely lost.

꩜ After checking his phone to of course find it has no signal and the path he had just taken was now covered in thick bushes his blood went cold.

꩜ Was this his destiny? To get rejected from every publisher in his city and die alone and hungry in the forest at night?

꩜ He sank to the ground and hugged his knees to his chest.

꩜ Tears he has been fighting back for hours finally spilled down his cheeks, swamping the first floor in dirty, murky mud.

꩜ That was until he felt a strange tickling sensation against his back. His head whipped around to find an unexpected acquaintance.

꩜ It was a small, furry raccoon with large, black eyes. It cocked its head like Poe was a weirdly rock and chittered softly.

꩜ Poe backed away slightly. He knows the animals of the forest were never ones to be messed with, including a baby raccoon. Whenever there’s a baby, an angry mom is always nearby and ready to pounce.

꩜ But instead, the raccoon squeaked again and turned his back to him, shaking his tail side to side. Was it… trying to tell him something?

꩜ Suddenly, it began to march away, it’s tail swinging behind him. Did it want Poe to follow it?

꩜ Without any over ideas, the two began to make their way through the forest, weaving between thorny brambles and suspicious ivy. After only a few minutes the glowing lights of the city finally illuminated from the clearing of the forest.

꩜ “Little raccoon, you saved my life. How can I ever repay you?” Poe knealt down on the ground and gave the kind creature a sincere bow.

꩜ The raccoon chittered back at him and stood on its hind legs, reaching up to Poe. The writer’s poor heart is pierced with an arrow of affection for his new furry friend, scooping him up into his arms and carrying him back to civilization.

꩜ Karl was born into a little of cute, healthy raccoons, owned by an unknown russian author.

꩜ But one day after playing with his siblings, he suddenly found himself picked up by the author and sold off to a family looking for an unusual house pet.

꩜ After a series of events, Karl escaped and scurried off into the forest.

꩜ He may finally have freedom, but since he’s still so young, he doesn’t know how to find food or protect himself.

꩜ Just as he was about to curl up in a pile of leaves and sleep, he heard unusual sounds coming from deep in the forest.

꩜ That’s when he found Poe.

꩜ Back in present time, he spends all his time either resting on Poe’s shoulders, curled up by the fireplace, or nestled on your lap.

꩜ His favorite treats are nuts like cashews, acorns, and peanuts. He also likes blueberries, sunflower seeds, and grapes.

꩜ (don’t give him cotton candy he will cry and Poe will scold you)

꩜ Poe won’t let you feed Karl too many snacks in fear he might get even more chunky, but if Karl gives him some big, sad eyes and whimpers, Poe will eventually cave.

꩜ He loves to chase laser pointers and you may or may not have used that to lead him on a wild chase all over Poe’s study. (It was of course Ranpo’s idea)

꩜ You too giggle to yourself like little gremlins as Poe races around the room chasing Karl like a madman.

꩜ Poe makes him wear little boots when it rains and he hates them so much, always tries to pull em off so he can splash around in the mud.

꩜ Surprisingly love baths and will purr the entire time like the attention loving stinker he is.

꩜ Has been caught digging in Poe’s and your trash on occasion. When caught he stands on his hind legs and freezes, slowly backing away with an apple core in his mouth.

꩜ Cuz Poe’s so wealthy he often buys him tons of dog and cat toys, testing each out to find what he likes most.

꩜ Karl loves feathery cat toys to swat at, squeaker dog toys to chew on, and remote control mouses to chase. But his favorite toy has to be Poe’s long jacket and anything shiny or jingling on your outfit.

꩜ Always vies for pets and cuddles, hence why he’s always snoozing away on Poe’s shoulders or lap. He’s like a little baby you both raise together and he couldn’t have better parents <3

Reblog + Comment + Like if you want to see more Bungo Stray Dogs or Poe specific content!

(After taking a few days to recover from writers block I’ve FINALLY been able to finish this. Phewww!~ The schedule I’ve been experimenting with is still being worked on but I might be able to post it soon along with another question. Cya all then!~ <3)

[kleric-kunt]

How bout some sfw and nsfw Havik stuff? Like with a s/o who is shorter than him and loves him for him. You could do before or after the burn… (I got it bad for him, can’t get over how good he looks in mk1)

Understandable because I am so not normal about him.

Also I'm bonkers about a size kink so this is right up my alley

Warnings: talk of minor gore, explicit sexual content, just a sprinkle of angst

Nsfw under the cut >:3

SFW

-Havik loves that you're is shorter than him

-not because of some sort of power trip or anything. He just likes how cute you look, having to cran your head up to look at him

-he doesn't tease you about you're short stature, though. Not in a normal way, anyway

-none of that "why are you so smol" stuff. It's more like how you see a cat and pick it up by the scruff of its neck. The cuteness aggression kicks in and he just can't help but scoop you up and litter your face with licks and (gentle) bites

-this man would pick you up and toss you over his shoulder without hesitation just to because he can

-and if something is out of your reach and you ask him for help, he won't bother to grab it himself. He'll either pick you up and hold you up to what you need, or rip off his arm and say he's "giving you a hand"

-another thing he loves about you is how you accept him as he is. You don't try to change him or complain about his bouts of mania. He's so grateful for you and your gentle touch when he feels like he's about to crash. The way you gently cradle his scarred face almost makes him weep, and sometimes, he does

-Havik wouldn't dare shut you out, either, letting you see his vulnerability and care for him without fuss, just as he cares for you

-he's not very good with words, so instead of thank you's or apologies, he'll give you big bear hugs, wrapping you up in his strong embrace, bending down to bury his face in your neck

Nsfw

-oh man, don't get me started

-if it isn't already obvious, this guy has a size kink

-adding on to him loving to just toss you over his shoulder, Havik absolutely adores carrying you over to whatever place he deems suitable enough and pinning you down

-"Look at you. So small and cute...I'm going to eat you right up~"

-Havik nearly loses his mind when you comment about how big he is compared you you, and he can't help but get excited by the way he can bend you into different positions so easily

-and, despite his lack of lips, he's so very eager to go down, regardless of how you're built down there

-his tongue is rather skilled, plus he'll use his teeth if you ask. Adding a little bit of pain into the pleasurable experience of sex is something he is very fond of

-but I digress

-Havik wants to see you squirm, whether you're on top or beneath him. Feeling you squeeze his cock so snugly while you whine out his name has him reeling

-if you're on top, his hands will always be roaming. Hips, chest, ass, thighs, doesn't matter. He's gonna grope and squeeze all he can. He grips harder when he's close

- beneath him, he can be just as rough or gentle. He may be all about doing things his own way, but when it comes to you, he'll do just about anything you want

-Havik will do almost anything to please you, always holding his own climax back to make sure you feel as good as possible.

-plus he likes edging and orgasm denial

-make him beg he wants to be taken care of so bad

-such a small person being able to reduce him to a growling, moaning mess turns him on even more, his cock twitching and leaking until you finally grant him the sweet, sweet relief of your touch

-especially if he's bound. Tie him up and he's all yours :)

It's not my best, but I really hope you enjoy it! I'll have to jot these headcanons down as they pop into my head raaahh

[for-ships-that-never-sail]

Okay Y'ALL I saw Episode 5 today and these are the thoughts I jotted down while watching it (PART 2 OF 2)

Please don’t read below the cut if you are avoiding spoilers until you get to watch it yourself 

And FYI some of these may not have any context, but I guess it won’t matter cause you’ll have context in 7ish hours anyway (also sorry about how long all my thoughts and feelings are lol)

Awh Kate you’re so pretty - kinda weird to see her so chill though - she was so stressed all of season 2 that seeing her so serene is throwing me off tbh - I am so happy for you though my love

Also her outfit that looks like a sari is soooo gorgeous I WANTTTT

Love the cinnamon biscuits vs fruit jellies bit

Portia ma'am please listen to Varley FFS

lol I hope they did in fact fuck again like she wanted

Ugly crying at MY MESSSSSS

PARIS? oufff I love how comfortable she is, just casual teasing chit chats with bestie

“Undefended”? Charlotte needs a different hobby pleaseeee

LOLLLLL when did Penelope learn to do her hair and makeup by herself???? Cause there’s no fucking way she would’ve looked THAT fucking good after alllll of that lol

We were going to be KNIGHTS!! OMG sweet babiessss

“as much as I do” I can’t even blame anyone for anything they’ve done or said so far tbh 

This is such nuanced writing — I understand exactly where pretty much everyone is coming from and that’s really nice tbh 

Omg they really do want Cressida to marry a dinosaur 

WTF Cressida you do you girl fuck shit up for Penelope I don’t even care do whatever you have to do and go all out and save yourself cause no one else will I’m so sorry you were ever put in this position  

We have been acting uncouth AS OF LATE??? as of late????!? Omggg Portia girl pleaseeeee you had ONE job and you’re just gonna pass the buck to your daughters instead? STAHP own up to your shit cause you knowwww they bully her because youuu bullied her and the gall to say this is just happening LATELY on top lmao 

Though like in her eyes I always do see remorse too - I think she just lacks courage to ever really own up to everything in full because she’s just so guarded 

Honestly this is such stellar acting 

And also like, Penelope, most of you is your mom my girl - your brains, your overthinking, your inability to just say Yuh I done fucked up my bad lol 

Greg’s hat

Yesssss lord Kent find you some Bridgerton besties 

I actually do love Portia - yeah she’s been a colossal dick of a mom to Pen but as complex women go, I get her - If she makes amends with Pen for them daily microaggressions and general abuse one day, for real for real, she’d be really great 

Omg Mama B and Lady D are such big shippers - wish they didn’t fully cut out the Lady D stuff from the books though le sigh 

Eloise has a point - I agree - she had lotsss of alone time to say it - I understand Pens fear completely, but she must realize that her saying this is still soooo much better than him having to find out on his own - and there is no way he wouldn't - and he’d be more hurt by that part than the actual LW part I think and honestly Eloise is right about her being involved in that painful deception too, I wouldn’t want my own brother to feel betrayed by me like that either, given how often he wished LW ill out loud - and the longer Pen stays quiet the more guilty Eloise becomes as a sister too - If anything her not immediately snitching makes her moreee team Pen than team Colin - this is still a lowkey loyalty to Pen for sure - I think I may have issued this same ultimatum under these conditions too

Omggg JOHNNNNNN stop he’s having a panic attack why did Fran put him on the spot like thissss????

“As you rightly mocked me last season” lolllll

Awh Colin and the toast 

Eloise should nottttt have done her second toast - now THAT part was uncalled for, but I guess they want to keep the stress levels high 

Lmao Kate to the rescue 

I loveeeee how close they are sitting in public - but like… does nooooo one else see this??? Hips glued together? Hands holding??? Just out in the open?? No one thinks this is insanely intimate for a newly engaged couple of the ton??? Even if it’s a love match? None of the older women are clocking this and saying 1. Sit the fuck apart 2. Did yall fuck already cause yall look like you fucked and we don’t even have a wedding date set yet??? Are you not going to even ask for a special license?? You just want her to pop a baby before she technically should and cause more drama?? Like who is in charge of all these fools?? Mama B what is you doing??? Do you not think Colin is being a nasty girl with his wife-to-be?? lol

Lol Anthony I love you, you competitive lil bitch 

Lmaooooo Eloise and Penelope being the smartest bitches of the ton YESSSS

Portia trying to show where Pen's brain comes from lol

Muddy boots panic again 

LMFAOOOOOOO Mama B your face is going a mile a minute right now listening to the muddy boots

"I saw straight away" OH MY FROHN you will end me one day

Pen get your shit together pls grab a brown paper bag or smthn 

Oooohhhhh fuck I get itttttt

Cressida girl my bad I get ittttttt sooooo much more - I didn’t fully understand her thought process behind what we already knew she was gonna do until just nowwww - they really set it up for her well - girl needed an exit and everyone fully offered her one - I have no issues with this at all tbh 

Omg omg this is the most chaotic midnight strike of all time like 6 different things happened at the same time???? 

Well that was some good old fashioned Bridgerton CHAOS Hope y'all enjoyed it too!!!! LESS THAN 8 HOURS TO GOOOOOOOOOO

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 7) - Ten Years After Dean Came Back

Summary: Dean and Y/N attend a session of couples' counselling with Dr. Garth Fitzgerald. They struggle with Y/N's infertility and make a final decision about the future of their family together.

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Word Count: 2,668 

Warnings: age gap (reader is 32, Dean is 37), infertility, couples' therapy, adoption, relationship angst, mentions of physical abuse by a parent, language, angst, fluff 

A/N: After many rewrites and some creative differences with the characters in this series, we’ve come to the last part. 

_____ 

Ten years after Dean came back. 

"And how does that make you feel, Y/N?" The skinny man asked from his chair placed next to the couch. 

He wore a tweed suit and you thought he looked more like a college professor than a couples' therapist. He had a notebook in his hands and jotted down notes every time either of you spoke. 

"I don't know, not good." You shrugged. 

"Mhm," he jotted down more notes, "I see." 

It was your first appointment and Dean had yet to speak up for any of the questions. He told you there was no point in going since he still loved you and you still loved him. He made it sound so simple, but it was more complicated than that. And he knew you needed to talk it through, so here he was supporting you and holding your hand; you couldn't ask for more. 

"And, Dean, how do you feel about it?" Mr. Fitzgerald asked. 

Dean scrubbed his free hand over his mouth and chin as he side eyed you. Mr. Fitzgerald, or Garth as he told you to call him, hadn't directed any questions towards Dean until now. Dean didn't seem too happy about it, but refused to let that show in the way he looked at you. All you saw was love. 

"I'm okay with it," Dean said, still looking at you. 

"How can you be okay with it?" You asked, scrunching your forehead. 

"Because I love you, this doesn't change anything between us." He said with a shake of his head. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you or the fact that I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. I need you here with me. I can't do any of it without you."

"Yes, you can." You said. 

"I don't want to." 

Garth stayed silent while he listened and jotted down notes. He was a nice guy but hadn't said anything helpful yet. Maybe couples therapy was about opening the conversation more than actual advice or guidance. Maybe he just worked as a buffer and had you guys find your own way through. 

"Everything's different now, Dean." 

"No."

"You're the one that had our future planned out; two kids, one boy, one girl, a white picket fence, a big yard, and a dog. You even hung a tire swing and started building a treehouse, for fuck's sake." Your chin started to tremble and you took a breath. "Dean, you want kids and I want you to have them but it's not going to happen with me. I'm broken, my body's broken." 

After four years of trying to get pregnant and the endless testing and trials, you were spent. Your body was spent and you couldn't remember the last time sex felt like it was supposed to. It felt clinical now like you were running through a maze for a piece of cheese. You tried almost everything, there were calendars and ovulation sticks, hormone injections, temperature readings, wedge pillows, and you were sick of it all. 

You couldn't imagine it felt any different for Dean either. Your sex life was present but unaccounted for. 

"I love you." Said Dean. 

He wiped your cheeks dry from the tears streaming down them and kissed your forehead. It didn't matter how many times you'd snapped at him over the past four years with your hormones in overdrive, you couldn't push him away if you tried. And you had tried. 

That was one reason why you wanted to go to therapy, you wanted to come to terms with your infertility and let it go. You wanted to stop the hormone treatments and stop feeling the way you were. You wanted to feel like yourself again. 

"Y/N, did you hear what Dean just said?" Garth asked when he saw you had calmed down. Dean clutched your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. You shook your head. "He said, he loves you, do you believe that?" 

"Yes," you knew he did. 

That was something you never had to worry about with Dean. He let you know in more ways than one and you never questioned it. Hell, he supported you through the trials for this long because he knew it was what you wanted. He saw the toll it took on you and wanted to stop a long time ago, but you weren't ready to make your peace with it, with your body. Until now, you hoped. 

"So then why are you pushing him away?" Garth asked, resting his pen on his notebook and giving you his full attention. "Do you think that's what he wants? That it'll make him happy to find someone else who can bear his children?" 

"Maybe," you shrugged and refused to meet Dean's hurt stare. 

Dean shook his head. "Y/N, I love you." He whispered, he had been saying that a lot lately. Like he knew it wasn't sinking in. 

"And, Dean, when you tell Y/N that you love her, is that what you mean? Or are you trying to tell her something else that you can't find the words to say?" Garth asked and Dean cleared his throat and nodded. "What are you trying to tell her?" 

Dean thought for a long moment, "The future I planned for us, I don't want that with anyone else." 

"But we won't have it either," you said. 

"I've made my peace with that and we're here so you can too." He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. His green eyes pleading with you like he still tried to convince you of everything he felt and hadn't been able to communicate. 

"It's not fair, I wanted a family too. I never thought I would this badly, but I do. With you, I do." You sniffled, "It's not fair. The one thing I'm supposed to be able to do and I can't." 

"We still can." 

"How? I can't get pregnant, Dean, and I can't keep taking those hormones. My mood swings are all over the map with them and it's not working."

"We stop trying." 

"What?" You frowned, "I don't understand, how can we have a family if I can't get pregnant? We can't afford a surrogate, Dean." 

"Making a baby doesn't make you its parent, Y/N, trust me I know. My father might've played a very short hand in creating me but he was never a dad, he was never there for me, he never cared, he never loved me or Sammy." 

"Speaking of unfair, how can a man like that make two kids and I can't even begin to form one? Ugh!" You sighed exasperatedly and fell back against the couch feeling defeated. 

Dean smiled at your little tantrum and you wondered how he was able to do that. Find levity in the difficult parts of life. But that was his motto, something like: if you don't laugh, you cry. And for a moment, you saw him with a younger face, a bruised eye and a split lip. Smiling at you under the streetlamp with ice cream on his nose. That was almost seventeen years ago now. 

You were finally voicing your disappointment at the cards you had been dealt and that was a step at healing. You tried for so long to be strong and composed but Dean always saw right through it. He hated seeing you hurt, but it was hard to come to terms with the fact that your body could never do what you wanted it to, it was less hard for him; even if the struggle was the same. 

You had to live in your mind and listen to the little voice that called you broken. Dean just had to watch. Although, now that you thought about it, watching someone in pain could be just as painful. Especially when they refused your help and pushed you away. 

You silently promised him you would never do that again. 

"I love you, Dean." You squeezed his hand. 

You were endlessly thankful to have him around to pull you out of your funk. You tried to smile back at him as you sat up. 

"Can I interject here," Garth smiled, "I think Dean's talking about adoption. Sometimes a family you choose has stronger bonds than ones you make. You run that youth group, right, Y/N? So you of all people should know that there are many children out there that wish they could have parents that want them as badly as you and Dean want a child. At least look into it, if that's something you'd be willing to do." 

"Do you want to adopt?" You asked Dean, he'd never mentioned it before. 

"I looked into it after we found out conceiving would be difficult and again after your last round of hormone therapy. I kind of put our names on this list because it can take a long time to be selected." He confessed and quickly added, "I wanted us to have options and I'm completely fine with not having kids either. We could just be the cool Aunt and Uncle to Sammy and Jess' twins. I'd be alright with that as long as you're the one I'm growing old with. I want you in that rocking chair beside me on the porch and I'll tear down that white picket fence when we get home." 

“No, don’t do that... maybe we could paint it though.” You shrugged. 

"I like the way you think, sweetheart." Dean chuckled with a little smirk. 

Garth looked at the clock on the wall and clapped his hands together, "Well, I think that was an excellent session and I've got a bit of homework for you. Y/N, I think it would be healthy for you to look into adoption with Dean, exhaust all of your options together before you commit to a decision about your future. And, Dean, I want you to try talking about how you’re feeling to Y/N rather than just declaring your undying love for her." You laughed and Dean blushed, "I think she gets it, but she's not a mind reader. Everyone benefits from open communication and all I'm asking is that you try, you don't even have to be good at it, just put words together until you get a sentence and keep doing that. The best relationships I see are the ones where each partner refuses to give up on the other. It's about equal give and take and allowing each other to be happy and loved." 

"So, on a scale of one to ten. How did we do, Doc?" Dean asked and it was Garth's turn to laugh. 

"I can't answer that, but I will say that you guys have a great foundation. We just want to open the lines of communication as a safety net for when times are a little tougher to see through the fog. When your love is hidden behind the walls you use to protect yourselves. You don't need to protect yourselves from each other; I can see that as much as you both can feel it." Garth said, buttoning his tweed jacket as he stood up. "We all need a little help sometimes and that's why you're here, you can't be expected to get through this without it. Whether I be the one to help you both, or you turn to friends, or family, it doesn't matter as long as you find your way back to each other in the end. Never forget that you are going through this together and the best thing you can do is communicate that. Sometimes one partner may feel like they're hurting more or they are more to blame and that's not true, we need to communicate to know." 

"I got it, Doc, next session you want me to talk more." Dean quipped as he stood up with you and added, "I gotta know, what the hell is that?" He pointed to the sock puppet on Garth's desk in the corner. It had yarn for hair, blue button eyes and red lips. 

"That is Mr. Frizzles," Garth laughed with a hand on his stomach, "Sometimes couples bring their kids to the session and the kids respond better to him than me. He insists it's his sense of humour but I think it's his uncanny ability to sense when someone is being a liar." Dean just stared at him and Garth laughed again, "I'm kidding, Dean." 

"I like him," Dean said as you walked to the car together. "That's something I never thought I'd say." 

Dean opened your door, "Me, too." You said, sliding into your seat. When Dean joined you in the Impala moments later you added, "So, you'd be open to going to another session?" 

"I'm open to anything you want, sweetheart. We're in this together." Dean revved up Baby and headed towards home. 

"Dean, I don't want you to keep things from me anymore." Dean side eyed you with a curious look, "The adoption thing... If that's something you're interested in, I want to be included. Maybe it's the right direction for us. I just don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide things from me, especially things you want." 

"I wasn't hiding it, I was always planning on telling you about it but, I dunno, the longer I waited the more awkward it was to bring it up." Dean said and you grabbed his hand from the seat next to you. You gave his fingers a squeeze and he smiled. "The people I consider my family -aside from Sammy- that's you, Bobby and Jody, Cas and Benny, you're all people I found; people I choose to keep around through thick and thin. And I love you all, some more than others," he gave you a flirty wink and smirked, "But my point is when it comes to kids, biological or adopted, I don’t care as long as they’re ours. Family wouldn’t mean the same thing to me without you... So please stop pushing me away.” 

You nodded and vowed, “I promise,” then leaned over to peck a kiss on his cheek, his stubble prickling your lips. “Maybe we can go over what you learned on adoption tomorrow?” 

“Of course, Y/N, I’d love to.” He beamed and planted a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“You’re all kinds of awesome, you know that?” You squeezed his fingers again until he squeezed back. 

“Whatever happened to ‘strange and kinda wonderful’?” He teased and chuckled with you. 

“I love you... my strange and kinda wonderful man.” 

“I love you more, don’t forget that.” Dean smirked and bit his lip like he always used to when you were younger. 

You glared at him a moment as he grinned sideways at you. He knew you hated it when he said things like that. Your love for him was just as strong, arguably stronger according to you. 

“Pfft, hardly.” You declared with an eye roll. “Exactly what makes you think that you love me more? I was willing to see you with another woman just so you could have a chance at happiness and you wouldn’t even consider it.” 

“Isn’t that proof right there?” He laughed at you. 

“But it would make me happy to see you happy so-” 

Dean stopped laughing and cut you off, “I’m happy with you and only you.” He glanced over at you a couple times before he asked, “Are you still happy with me?” 

“You know I am.” 

“Good, then I’m yours and your mine and our future will be what we make of it.” He slid his rough fingers between yours and cleared his throat. “You tamed my heart a long time ago, it would be cruel to throw me back into the wild now. Got it?” 

You smiled, feeling whole for the first time in a while, “You’re right. I think I’ll keep you after all.” 

Dean chuckled. 

Whatever happened next you were in it together. 

_________________________

This series is complete.

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @vicmc624 @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch

[abiiors]

Book

So excited to do (write) anything that you want to! week with prompts from @imightgetbetter. Adding all of these to my Series Masterlist

Monday - early matty (pre-notes/bfiafl)

In a small corner of a dusty, second-hand bookstore, two hands reach for the same book at the same time. Fingers brush against each other, electricity zings, all the usual ingredients of a meet-cute, except the boy is on a mission. 

‘I’m going to sound like a twat here,’ he shuts his eyes tightly then opens them with a sigh, ‘but I need that book more than you.’

You feel a bit dumbfounded. At least, he has the decency to look embarrassed but the fact remains that he still hasn’t let go of the book. 

‘Oh?’ you ask, still gathering your bearings, ‘you don’t even know what I need it for?’

‘I knowww,’ he groans, ‘but please! I need it back.’

You look at the boy properly. He truly does look desperate for the book. His face is all pouty and his eyes big, his hair sits like a curly, poofy mop on his head. You wonder if this look is supposed to work on people, if it has worked on people in the past. 

Maybe, maybe not. And as much as you don’t want to admit it, it is working on you a little bit. Okay, maybe a lot!

‘You need it…back?’ you give him a quizzical look. 

‘I need it back,’ he confirms. 

‘You see,’ he continues like he’s about to start a soliloquy, ‘my roommate got really drunk or really high, it doesn’t matter, my roommate got fucked up and decided to sell my books for some extra cash. Yes, yes I know, messed up but now I’m here to try to get as many of them back as possible.’

You open your mouth, about to say something, but he’s not done speaking. 

‘Please, I’ll buy you a new copy of this but not this one. This one has some…annotations.’

His face turns pink. His eyes wander a bit, unable to meet yours. And you have to admit, he has almost won you over. 

‘What’s your name?’ You bite your lip, hold back a smile.

‘Matt,’ he says, clearing his throat, ‘Matty.’

‘I don’t need a new copy, Matty. I just needed to check a few passages, that’s all.’ 

‘Oh.’ It’s a soft sound like he’s contemplating. ‘Well, in that case…’ he trails off and holds the copy in front of you. 

His copy of On The Road by Jack Kerouac is old and a bit wrinkled. The pages are yellowing and the spine is cracked but you have to admit, it looks well read. Well loved, even. 

‘I just need to jot down a few things,’ you tell him and he nods. 

When you settle down on the floor, a notebook and pen in hand, he does the same. You wonder if this is to snatch the book away if you stumble upon any of his annotations. He could wander around the bookstore while you did your thing but he wraps his hands around his knees and rest his chin on them. He’s not exactly subtle when he lets his eyes roam over you with barely concealed interest. 

‘What’s this for?’ he tilts his head to one side, and then as an afterthought, adds, ‘if I may ask.’

‘A paper on road trip novels,’ you answer distractedly as you flip through the page to find what you need. 

There are a few pencil scribblings here and there, quotes that are underlined and circled over and over again. There are doodles—few and far in between—but they make you smile a bit. You so badly want to stop and read the annotations but not when he’s sitting right there, watching you like a hawk. 

While you note down the things you need to, Matty gets restless. He picks up a pen and twirls it between his fingers effortlessly, picks up a second one and bangs them on his shins like drumsticks. The boy truly can’t sit still even when he lets you work in peace…for the most part. 

But you’re surprised that you don’t find it annoying. If anything, his fidgety restlessness is amusing. The way he stops every time you turn pages, the way his fingers twitch at his sides, ready to hide anything embarrassing. You feel tempted to linger on one of his notes just to watch how he’d react but they seem to have petered out as the book slowly comes to an end. 

You want to imagine this boy, in his bedroom or in a cafe or in a park, reading the book. His hands clutching it tightly, his face scrunched in concentration. He would be so absorbed that he forgets to note down any more of his thoughts. But something catches your eye as you turn to the penultimate page. 

Black ink has bled through. Until now, everything was in pencil, smudged, messy script but with a touch of gentleness. But this is much harsher, written in pen. 

His eyes widen, his hands freeze in place. Quicker than expected, he drops the pens and flips the page. 

‘What…’ he grabs the book in confusion and you let him take it away from you. His face changes from confusion to irritation, to gloom, to, finally, curiosity. 

His eyes dart over the dark scribblings. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he tries to make sense of the words. 

‘Wow, these are mental,’ he mumbles to himself. ‘God, these make no sense.’

‘I thought they were yours,’ you raise an eyebrow. 

‘No, someone else must have... Mine are much tamer compared to these.'

The curiosity gets the better of you and you have to ask, ‘can I see?’

‘Mmm, sure.’ He extends the book in your direction still holding onto one half of it. 

So you scoot closer, hold onto the other side. Your thighs touch momentarily, your heads are bent over it as both of you try to decipher the script. 

‘1 June, The 1975,’ you read aloud, trace the words with your fingers. ‘That’s a bit of a weird way of writing it.’

‘It is, isn’t it!’ He taps the space under the words, then tips his head back onto the shelves behind him. 

‘The 1975…’ he repeats and his voice has gone all soft and full of awe. ‘Has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?’

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 8/13

What am I feeling today?

I’m feeling pretty good! I was able to get open and get advice yesterday after talking with my spiritual mentor, I’m so grateful to have her in my life. I will be taking a small break from the book of Job as I take some time to study out purity since it’s become a bit of a struggle for me again lately. Overall, I’m feeling quite encouraged and happy today (it’s also my cat’s birthday, she’s 4 now!🥰). My hope is that I can continue to stay positive and close to God through this time!

Six Keys to Sexual Purity

Key #1 - Acknowledge Your Temptation Triggers

Temptation is inevitable. It will come. So, you shouldn’t be surprised by it but prepared for it. To overcome temptation, you must first understand what tempts you. It is vital that you take drastic steps to identify and remove anything and anyone that causes you to stumble on your journey. For example, if you find yourself tempted when watching a specific tv show, listening to a particular music artist, or following certain accounts on social media, eliminate these temptations immediately. Don’t waste any time.

Reflection: Do you know your temptation triggers? Take a piece of paper, and jot down the things that entice you to sin and give in to temptation. What boundaries can you establish to ensure you aren't triggered?

In all honesty one of them is seeing the guys I like. Although I’m quite strict with myself and try to keep our interactions as pure as possible, I do sometimes let my mind wander and fantasize of what it would be like.

Another was social media (which I got rid of yesterday). Occasionally videos would come up that were enticing and tempting and I can’t allow myself to be exposed to that anymore.

Lastly, books and movies/shows. I love romance, I adore it and I deeply enjoy romantic media. However, a lot of what is mainstream is not at all pure or appropriate and it can be tempting for me to think, ‘is it really that bad if I give in’ - I need to continue being strict with myself in terms of the media I allow myself to consume.

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭7‬:‭1‬-‭2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“Now for the matters you wrote about: “It is good for a man not to have sexual relations with a woman.” But since sexual immorality is occurring, each man should have sexual relations with his own wife, and each woman with her own husband.”

just to reiterate that sex that sex isn’t a bad thing, but it is only allowed within the confines of marriage! anything outside of that is considered sexual immoral and therefore sin in the eyes of God. since I’m a single woman, it’ll be good for me to keep in mind that I should avoid it all together and resist the temptation since it’ll always result in sin for me as I am not married.

James 1:13-15 NIV

“When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.”

God is not the one who tempts us (although He does test us). Our temptation comes from our own evil desire. There are some sins that we truly desire (for example, I’m battling with my purity) but we need to be sure not to give in to it.

Matthew 5:27-29 NIV

““You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.”

One, that it’s sin to look at someone lustfully. This is something I can struggle with when I see the guy I like. In my sinful nature, I want him to lust after me as well. But, I must keep reminding myself that it should in no way be the basis of a relationship. I shouldn’t want someone to want me just because they want my body. I want a pure loving relationship where lust should not have a prominent role.

Furthermore, Jesus tells us to get rid of anything that causes us to stumble (although I can’t get rid of the guys, I can correct my thinking and how I interact with them to keep purity as a top priority). Also, I was able to get rid of media that was tempting for me.

Romans 13:13-14 NIV

“Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery, not in dissension and jealousy. Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh.”

Another reminder again about our behavior! I may struggle with some of my thoughts but I continue to behave with decency. I don’t initiate anything with the men in my life, I allow them to lead in a godly manner as they should. I don’t dress immodestly or try to present myself or act in a way that could be tempting to them. I want to make sure that both of our hearts are being guarded which can honestly be quite difficult for me at times.

Galatians 5:16-17 NIV

“So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want.”

Just a reminder that the desires of our flesh are not in line with that of the spirit. Jesus himself said that we must deny ourselves (our flesh) daily when we follow him. It’s a daily renewal of the mind to desire what the Spirit does instead of our sinful flesh.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

building blocks | yjh (teaser)

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

pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to ?? | fluff, some angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: 842 for the teaser (est. 12-14k) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: smut, drinking, eating, etc.) full fic: september 13th!

a/n: i wanted to drop a teaser of my fic for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰

join my taglist here or leave a comment to be tagged in the full fic!

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

Except…

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

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

Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.

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

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

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

i hope you enjoyed it! and less than a week til the full fic is posted 🫣

taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n (strikethrough means can't tag)

[ilovemylawyer]

hiii, im back <3333

i was just thinking about how doyoung kind of remains mysterious in his rituals, like i for once never seem to fully understand what tf is going on inside in his mind maybe i just didn't put enough effort in understanding his microexpressions, still ive been thinking about him winding down for the day lately and every trivial aspect of him like getting out of bath and using body oil or something, bonus points if it gets anomalous teehee because unlike some allegations of him being greasy i think he takes his hygiene very seriously!! atleast whenever he could. sooooo could you pleaaseee maybe sometime write about him just indulging himself in his unwind routine and getting ready for his next day, it's just very important for my mental health i think...yeahh and it doesn't matter which part of timeline it's set in, possibly somewhere in ep 6? im not being serious here, i never was.

lots of love byeee 💗💗💗

hihihi welcome back dear <33

doyoung is totally mysterious! i think it is absolutely intended by the show to make us, the viewers, not privy to the interworkings of his mind. this makes it easier for us to sympathize with dongsoo (to a point..) and it makes it easier for us as viewers to write doyoung off as a psycho criminal killer and NOT understand him as an inexperienced lovesick fool. i think this is totally intentional so i don't think you Missed anything by not scrubbing every scene <3

re: hygeine. HMMMM... so i am more of a greasetruther. at least up until the silver jacket gets replaced with suits and such. but all of that, the fashion upgrade for dy and his men, i see as a direct result of ds' desires. pre-suited dy and gang, his hair is noticeably like. greasy. it just is. i think if he cared about hygiene/appearance on his own, he'd keep his hair shorter and maybe own more than one pair of pants.

BUT! in ep6, he does change to become Cleaner. so your timing here would be correct. like i said i think this is only because of dongsoo. he realizes just how important status/respect/appearance* is to dongsoo, and decides to make himself more desirable by slicking his hair back and dressing like an adult. but i unfortunately do not think he would ever make this decision if not for dongsoo's high standards.

if i do this i think i can make it ep6, a little pre-funeral prep sesh. here are my problems: this would be totally doyoung centric, doyoung pov doyoung brained solo doyoung alone in his big borrowed house. this is AWESOME in theory, but i THRIVE with dialogue, back and forths and quips and spoken lies and stuff. i do not feel like i have a strong, detailed voice for bathtime relaxation. but also ep6 is a rocky dyds episode, ds is supposedly leaving for good and never coming back, dy knows his (ds') mom is going to be executed, dy has already said his would-be final goodbyes... this is tough.

and this: "im not being serious here, i never was." i think (and i could be wrong, i don't quite know, this is only my best guess) that you're trying to say something like "haha jk... unless?" but i am not entirely sure. but i take everything (EVERYTHING) very very very seriously even in our extremely fast paced irony-poisoned world. my friends call me "serious" all the time. there is no need to be anything but serious w/ me! otherwise i actually get pretty confused (which may be evident rn) but plzzz never feel any kind of shame or embarrassment for any kind of ask to me! FR!

i take this show and my contributions to it like, deathly seriously. that is the only reason i cannot 100% guarantee u that i can pull this off. i have started a doc and jotted down my initial notes/thoughts, so it is there! but this will not be my main focus rn. the longer i think on things the more ideas i get, so this request might just take me some time to mull over/break down/work out. and maybe it'll turn out like super radical gnarly awesome cool. this is something that we will find out together!

MUCH LOVE ALWAYS! thank u forever for ur ask and i promise i will think some more on this and see if i can't figure it out <33

[plague-of-insomnia]

WIP Wednesday: New AU, Sebagni Sickfic

This excerpt is from a new self-indulgent AU I’m working on. It’s set in modern Houston, like many of my fics, with a human Sebastian with a rare chronic illness, a heap of medical (and other) trauma he hasn’t processed, and his new live-in nurse, Agni.

Over the course of the story, Agni gets Seb to heal and accept his intentions as genuine, and the two of them become closer.

Here’s an extra-long snippet to hopefully get you as excited for this as I am, lol.

[No real TW here, but it does deal with medical issues, chronic illness, with minor references to PTSD/panic attacks.]

“This is Agni,” Tanaka said as they approached. “Agni, this is Sebastian.”

Agni smiled. In another life, Sebastian may have appreciated how incredibly handsome he was. He’d always been attracted to tall men, but that was behind him now. No one could look at him like this: stuck in bed, barely able to shift himself, a shell of who he once was, and see him as anything but an object of pity at best, or someone who should be euthanized at worst.

A stab of physical pain as a muscle spasmed in his side, blending with the emotional anguish these thoughts brought forth, the brief image of him that almost made Sebastian choke on a breath. He grunted, then did his best to shove it all out of mind. No way he could let his guard down around a new nurse. No matter how bad he was feeling.

“They outsourcing now?” Sebastian spat bitterly. He watched for Agni’s reaction. He didn’t even twitch, but continued to smile. They always seemed so nice and helpful and friendly when Tanaka was around. But as soon as he and Seb were alone—

“It is a sincere pleasure to meet you,” Agni said formally, without a hint of an accent Sebastian could detect. He felt a tiny sting of guilt for what he’d said, but he dismissed the thought before it could blossom. “Do you prefer I call you Mr. Michaelis, Sebastian, or something else?”

Eyes narrowed with suspicion, he replied, “Sebastian is fine.”

Agni nodded. He took a hesitant step closer. It hadn’t escaped Sebastian’s notice that Tanaka had unconsciously placed himself between them. “Can I ask how your pain is right now?” Agni took a tiny notebook from the pocket of his bag, along with a pen, and began to jot some things down.

Tanaka nodded as if to urge Seb to be honest. But what would that solve? It’s not like Agni could really do anything about his pain. Sebastian was used to it. He hadn’t had a single pain-free day in more than ten years. Unless Agni had a magic wand hidden in his bag, the best he could do would be meaningless platitudes. Like “the new anti-inflammatory medicine will start working and relieve your pain soon,” or some shit like that.

“Why the fuck do you care?” Sebastian spat, not in the mood to make nice.

A small frown crossed Agni’s stunning features before he shifted into what was presumably his sympathetic face. “I would like to make you as comfortable as I can. I’m not here only to attend to simple medical needs like giving you medication. I want to improve your quality of life as much as I can.”

Sebastian scowled. It didn’t help that breathing was harder, the pain magnifying, perhaps exacerbated by stress. If he’d had the strength, he’d have hurled something at him and yelled for Agni to just fucking leave him be.

Agni didn’t need to be a mind reader to gauge Sebastian’s mood, but he was either a very good actor or more patient than most, because he didn’t crack yet. “It seems like you’re uncomfortable right now. Could I examine you quickly?”

No. But behind Agni, Tanaka whispered in Japanese, “Behave. I have a good feeling about this one.”

Subduing a growl, Sebastian nodded. Braced himself for rough handling that would aggravate his pain.

Agni set his bag on the side table and removed some supplies, including antibacterial gel he used to clean his hands before pulling on a pair of blue gloves. His forearms were muscular without being excessive, and Sebastian found himself watching as the man worked, apparently not the type to make meaningless chitchat. That was good, at least.

He hated the ones who felt like they had to constantly fill the silence with their babbling, talking to him like he was a toddler and not a grown man in his 30s.

“Let me slip this on your finger,” he said, not reaching and forcefully grabbing Sebastian’s arms like most nurses would have, but instead waiting for him to offer an index finger for the little oxygen meter he clipped onto the tip. “And now I want to listen to your heart and lungs, if that’s all right?”

Sebastian sighed, winced when it pulled and spiked his pain, but quickly pushed his face into neutral. “Fine.”

Tanaka walked around to the other side of the bed, adjusting the curtains so the shifting sun wouldn’t be in Sebastian’s eyes.

Agni was delicate. He warmed the head of the stethoscope with his hands before slipping it under Sebastian’s T-shirt and listening intently in various spots before asking him to breathe deeply and slowly. He even managed to slide the stethoscope between Sebastian and the bed to listen to his back without him yanking him up and away from the mattress like a sack of potatoes. If Sebastian didn’t know better, Tanaka had told him exactly where his pain was bad today, and he was actually taking that into consideration. Had to be for show.

“How are you feeling right now?” Agni asked as he removed the stethoscope and replaced it in his bag.

“Well, I was going to the opera tonight, but I’m a bit tired, so I may have to cancel my plans.” Sebastian glared at the neglected electric wheelchair in the corner of the room. The one he’d been so excited for when he’d first received it, believing he would have newfound freedom with it, that he’d be less encumbered by his disability and illness. That he would have accepted him—

A wave of nausea overwhelmed him and he had to cup his hand over his mouth.

Agni worked quickly, grabbing a kidney-shaped emesis basin from the table and quickly placing it beneath his chin, deftly sliding a hand behind his back to support him without causing him pain.

But Sebastian was able to swallow it down and shove Agni away as well as his limited strength allowed.

But Agni didn’t seem to mind. He nodded, checked the monitor, and said instead, “Your oxygen levels are a little lower than I would like. Are you having any trouble breathing?”

Sebastian glared, but the jerking of his stomach earlier had caused his entire rib cage to feel like it was aflame, and it was easier not to breathe until the burn got so bad he had to inhale. Despite doing all he could to stay focused and in control, he could feel panic setting in. No. Not now. Not with this new nurse he didn’t know from Adam.

Gasping and gripping the sheets, Sebastian felt darkness swirling in on the edges. He struggled against it, fighting himself, fighting his body, fighting traumatic memories that tried to yank him further away from control.

A warm hand on his head. A mask placed in his face. A soothing, deep voice urging him to breathe, to relax, that he’d be OK. Someone held his hand.

With the machine’s assistance, despite the pain, his lungs filled and emptied due to the shifting pressure, and the dizzy, swimming sensation faded to clarity. He hated relying on this thing. The bipap machine. But it helped when his muscles were especially weak, or in moments like this. Let him rest. Without fear he’d stop breathing.

Agni pulled something else from his bag. A small tube. “Have you ever used this ointment before? It’s a topical anti-inflammatory, and I’ve had many of my patients swear by it. I could put some where your pain is worst, if you’d like.”

Go fuck yourself, Sebastian wanted to say, but he was too drained.

Tanaka squeezed his hand as if to encourage him to accept Agni’s help.

“It absorbs quickly, so you don’t need to use too much. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

Sebastian offered a small nod and pointed lazily to his torso and back. His heart was still racing, and he would have preferred Tanaka do this, but that would take more energy to explain than he had right now.

Over the next few minutes, Agni carefully applied the medicated cream to Sebastian’s sides and back, Tanaka letting Seb lean against him to ease the strain as the nurse coated his back with it. Sebastian was almost stoic through it all, and yet somehow Agni seemed to have a sixth sense for where his pain was worst, concentrating his ministrations there while keeping his touch feather-light.

Then, with Tanaka’s help, he shifted Sebastian onto his side, layering pillows to support his most painful areas. Agni worked slowly so as to minimize spiking his pain. No nurse had treated him so gently or with so much consideration. If he hadn’t had dozens of bad examples, he might have been tempted to believe Agni actually did care.

“This’ll take some strain off your ribs,” Agni said in a low, rich voice.

Now that the adrenaline crash was hitting him, and the cream was dulling the pain, exhaustion began to pull Sebastian so strongly he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Get some rest. I’ll check on you later.” Agni slipped the call button into Sebastian’s hand, petting it momentarily as if to give him reassurance, though it felt patrionizing. Still, it was considerate enough. Meant if he woke up in agony he wouldn’t have to move to call for help.

Tanaka stroked Sebastian’s arm soothingly before pulling the blankets up around him. “The heated blanket will help,” he whispered. “Sleep for a while.”

Sebastian gave up fighting and let his lids slide closed.

I hope you enjoyed this! If you do, let me know..!

I’m really hoping I’ll be able to post the first chapter of this this month.

Reblogs are always appreciated !!

Special thanks to @apocalypticromantic666 for all their encouragement and support!!