#this doesn't count as my first art of the year since this was made in November | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpxxstan · 3 months ago

Note

cannn i request a bff! Wonwoo with lots of pining and emotional constipation pls 🤍 love ur writings

anon requested: hiii can i please request a f2l wonwoo trope? Luv ur writings<3

this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.

genre: sugary fluff, gamer!wonwoo, high school au, friends to lovers.

word count: 6.9k words.

listening to his voice asmr audios and leftover while writing this- can't you tell i just love wonwoo's voice? he's just such a warm hug personified! pls note: i've combined two requests here because they're similar! thank you to both anons for requesting! i'm so sorry again for the delay T_T i rewrote this many times. i hope you like it!!

warnings: very shy reader, gaming references (likely to be inaccurate due to lack of personal experience, please excuse!).

it's the last year of your high school, and yet it doesn't feel like so. you may have turned 18 early this year, but it doesn't feel like the year you graduate from school and move on to a higher, more independent direction in life.

or perhaps you're just not mature enough. not ready enough to embrace adulthood. either way, the intense fear of what the future holds has you by the throat since the start of the year. it's not that you're trying to escape from responsibilities, but somehow it daunts you to no end that you'll have to leave this cocoon you've lived in all your life. step out of your comfort zone and into the real world.

perhaps it's not a maturity thing. perhaps it's just an introvert thing.

you're quite sure none of your classmates feel this scared of the future right now. most of them have their career goals defined, ready to sit for entrance examinations, or write applications to foreign universities. most of them have had experiences bordering on the edge of adulthood already- like their first kiss, their first date, their first relationship. most of them have already figured out where they see themselves three or four years from now- even if it not perfectly, it's brilliant that they even see themselves four years from now.

you? you don't even know if you'll be able to make it on time to the first day of class. it's literally the last year of school, and you've still not mastered the art of not getting late due to extreme social anxiety on the first day of class. somehow you rush into class, ankles burning from running through the campus, moments before the teacher arrives. you notice that there are only two seats left available in the class- one in the first bench, and another towards the back. you wonder if you should be sitting in the front to make a good impression on the teachers on your first day, but then your friends wave to you from the back, and your decision is made for you.

just as you finally settle down, your nerves easing out with the flowing conversation with your friends, the teacher walks into the classroom, creating pin-drop silence instantly, but she's not alone.

"good morning, class. welcome your new classmate for this year." on hearing her words, you look up from the new book your friend's been showing you.

the book almost drops from your hands.

"hello! my name is jeon wonwoo. nice to meet you all!"

in this moment, you're so, so glad you didn't choose to sit in the first bench. in this moment, you're so, so glad you always stick to your friends who generally do the talking for you whenever you're outside your tight-knit friend circle. in this moment, you're so, so glad you're the most ordinary-looking girl in the class.

because all of these ensure jeon wonwoo doesn't even spare a glance at you. and if you can keep yourself in check, he will not spare a glance at you for the rest of the eleven months of the school year. it's anyway just one year. if you keep out of his sight for long enough, he'll forget you exist.

as you walk home that evening, you wonder why must the universe be so cruel to you that it's now decided to make jeon wonwoo enter your class? wasn't it enough that he tormented you every day after beating you at games, that now you would have to see him daily in your immediate periphery? wasn't it enough that he'd already stolen your heart when you knew nothing of him except his voice, that now you would have to also know how devastatingly handsome he is in real life?

on reaching home, you slump down in your gaming chair and turn on your desktop.

2 messages from jeonwonubokdeongeori

you sigh before clicking the discord popup open, your annoyance increasing tenfold on reading the texts.

how was your first school day? going to a new school is so daunting T_T

daunting? with that face? with those charms? with that obvious intelligence sparkling in his eyes that no teacher can resist? what a liar. but at least he's telling you now that he's going to a new school. you can't ask him the name of the school because you don't want him to get curious about your school in return. so you keep it neutral.

i bet it wasn't as bad as mine lol wanna play and get the stress out?

wonwoo's message comes instantly, and you feel yourself melting. it does sound like such a tempting idea, especially with the way your body is still high-strung from all the social exposure and new worries of the final academic year. you want to say no- you want to start distancing yourself from him, you want to ensure your crush doesn't become serious. and yet, you can't keep yourself away from clicking on the yes button when he sends you a request to join a game.

seconds later, his voice rumbles in slowly through the other side of the game. his player is wearing a yellow outfit today, similar to your school uniform. "hey," it's a single syllable but it sends a shiver of comfort down your spine, and you can feel your body relax. it's online. he doesn't know it's you. it's just a game between friends.

"hi won," you voice is a soft whisper, almost afraid that he'll recognise you. you're sure he won't, because you've made sure he hasn't heard your voice throughout the day- but even if he does, he doesn't indicate it in any way.

he chuckles on the other end. "you sound so tired. you probably need sleep more than a game." "i've been drinking too much soda- no way i'm gonna sleep soon," you stifle a yawn to keep talking to him. "mhmm, soda's not good for you, princess." princess. you know it's not a nickname, or meant to be endearing. he's simply referring to your username, pretzel_princess, which you go by during games. three days ago, you'd wished you'd used your own name as your username, just so you can hear him say your name while playing, although princess sounds good enough. but in hindsight, it's been the best decision you've ever made.

"jeon wonwoo, are you just stalling the game?" you smirk, and you hope he hears it in your voice.

he does.

"well then, game on, princess."

after that, you can't keep your eyes away from wonwoo. the initial shock has now worn down- and suddenly the reality seems more stark in full HD. he's right here- literally ten seats away from you. in all likelihood, you could just whisper and he would hear your voice.

and identify you at once.

and yet, you can't keep your eyes off him. he seems so.... different in real life, and yet exactly the same. you start linking every tiny bit of character you've learned about him till now to his real self.

like how he's complained to you multiple times about his poor eyesight- and you've scolded him about his terrible gaming addiction and how he should stop immediately, only for him to laugh it off. you can see how thick his glasses are, and how he has to squint often even with the glasses- and you make a mental note of scolding him again tonight.

like how he doesn't like swimming during the physical education classes- instead opting for athletics. he's told you before he has a fear of drowning, and now you witness this with your own eyes too.

like how he's an introvert too- keeping mostly to himself, although everyone is trying to get a piece of him. with his looks and his natural charm, you can hardly blame the girls and the guys for swarming around him every day. although it's barely been a week since he's joined, he's already solidified a fanbase- people who are ready to give him homework, their lunchboxes and also their hearts. it's no surprise though- you're no different than them. you were just a tad bit more pathetic- at least they hadn't fallen for him after hearing just his voice.

it feels like you're leading a double life. you've never been more thankful for your introvertedness- perhaps the only time you've been thankful for it. but this is the only way to ensure wonwoo doesn't know who you are. you do your best to ensure your friends don't get curious about him, and even if they do talk to him, you stay away from the spot at that moment. it's even better because none of the teachers know you by your name (you've never given them reason to), hence no one in class draws attention to you. your friends call you by a nickname (not princess), so even if they're calling out for you from a distance, wonwoo could never realise it's you.

well. things are not as bad as you'd think they would be.

unless of course, one counts the worsening of your infatuation. it's already been a while since you've known each other as ... online best friends. well, you'd been gaming together on the same server for a year now, but it was only eight months since you'd dm-ed him, and initiated a conversation, ignoring your shaky hands. thankfully, he'd replied almost instantly- and that had sparked things off. too fast, you'd gone from strangers who game together occasionally to friends you share your feelings and thoughts with. wonwoo had been surprisingly easy to open up to. perhaps because he resonated with most of your experiences? with him being as introverted and shy as you see him now, you'd understand why. or perhaps because you'd always thought he would be just an online friend- a voice behind a screen. never more tangible than that. and there was a comfort in that. no fear of judgement. no insecurity about your looks. no worries about embarrassment. and even when you had your voice on, conversation had flown easily, and so had giggles and intimate moments.

you slam your head against the textbook you're reading as you remember that night when you'd messed up. of course, your crush was nothing new. you'd slowly and surely begun to develop feelings for the gentle-voiced gamer who had won his way into your heart with his gaming skills and the softness with which he treated you. like how he would immediately catch on to any exhaustion in your voice. how he'd remember the little details you told him about your daily life. how he'd remind you to sleep instead of playing another match, because you'd have to wake up early the next day. sometimes, with your headphones on and wonwoo's voice floating in, you'd escape from this real world, away from the fears of your life, into a world where it felt like you were sitting with him, on a swing, in a playground. and sometimes, your imaginary world took you to a rollercoaster, him holding your hand as you both screamed with the adrenaline rushing to your head. and eventually, your imagination would take you to a world where you'd picture a faceless wonwoo hugging you after a long day of studies, just as his words comforted you with the similar warmth of a hug.

well, faceless no more.

your face heats up as your mind strays to the thought of hugging wonwoo. knowing he was so much taller than you, and so beautifully built even in the hideous school uniform, his hugs would absolutely engulf you and drown you in his warmth. you shake your head as you focus on your book again. you shouldn't be daydreaming about your online best friend. not when you don't even have the guts to own up and face him in real life.

the next month is largely uneventful. the novelty of wonwoo's presence slowly wears off, although his fanbase does not. but you've grown smart at avoiding him. with your study pressure mounting up, you both have lesser time to play games anyway, but whenever you do, you're bound to lose your sleep. because after two hours of just you and him, your noise-cancelling headphones focusing on every breath he takes and curse he utters while playing, your mind feels like levitating. he frequents your dreams on those nights- and you dream about an alternate reality where you can sit next to him in the library and hear his gentle voice from up close instead of simply through your headphones. where his laugh shakes up your desk and you can actually see the beautiful smile you know he must have on his face whenever you crack a silly joke and he laughs for you. where you can solve his maths sums with him, after he complains about finding them too hard.

you know you're being stupid. you have your college entrances coming up really soon, and you should move on from this silly crush of yours when you're not even brave enough to do anything about it. but you simply can't distance yourself from jeon wonwoo.

"what are you thinking about, princess? you're very quiet these days." his question isn't probing, but caring. "it seems like there's a lot on your mind."

you sigh. "there is, but i can't tell you."

"no? wonwoo's upset on hearing that."

you double take on hearing that. "it's nothing serious. just silly worrying. i don't want to dump on you-" "you're not dumping anything on me. if you keep stuff from me, i'll feel even more helpless and sad." you try to understand if there's any hint of fakeness in his voice, but you cannot hear anything except the slow rumble of genuineness in his voice.

"i- i can't tell you, wonwoo."

"is it about me?"

"what? no. no, no. why would i be upset about you?"

"i don't know. why else would you hide things from me?"

"ummm-"

"i won't push you. but i really want to help. i like hearing you laugh often, princess."

he doesn't raise the issue again during that match, but his words linger in your mind for longer than they should. it ends up distracting you during the game, and he tsks into the microphone.

"i'm seriously going to abort this game if you don't tell me why you're playing so badly. i thought we were friends."

best friends, you remember telling wonwoo two months back. you're the closest thing to a best friend that i have, won. and he'd said it back, his voice shy, me too, princess. i'm so glad i found you.

"you're not going to let this go, will you?" your voice is vulnerable, as his caring words really seep into the layer beneath your skin. "if you want me to, i will."

"then i do want you to. i'll talk about it when i'm ready, wonwoo."

he sighs, and you feel the sound of his breath send a shudder through your spine.

"as you want, princess."

it's midterms week and you're neck-deep in assignments, when wonwoo's call request comes in. you don't think twice before accepting it, knowing he's a great study partner.

"hey! are you busy with exams?" "so right i am." "yeah lol, me too. 'tis the season, huh?" he chuckles, and you grin. if you consider the fact that it's almost the end of two months and wonwoo still doesn't know you, then it makes you feel ... kinda good on the inside. like you're in a detective movie. like you're in a spy film.

"my brother says he wants to meet you." you almost choke on your coffee when you ask him, "what?!" "yeah, he said that he's heard enough about you, now he wants to see if you exist at all." "you can just tell him i exist-" "he doesn't believe me. says that i'm too loser to have a sweet girl friend like you."

sweet girl friend.

pretty sure wonwoo doesn't intend it to sound like the way it does, but it does make your skin burn up with an unbearable blush instantly. all your sleepiness is gone instantly, his words acting quicker than coffee, and you sit upright.

"you're not a loser. and you have plenty of female friends, i'm sure." "no, and no. princess, i play games on my computer every day, barely have a social life, and haven't gone on a date with anyone in my seventeen years of existence. i don't think you understand my loser level."

"and your brother has done all of this?" "you bet. he has a girlfriend and he's just fifteen. seems kinda illegal to me." you laugh. "as long as he isn't crossing lines, it's not illegal i guess." "hmm true. the point is- we're really very different, my brother and i. and i admit i am a loser... in real life."

you coo at him, your voice becoming softer. you can't imagine him having confidence issues- not when you've seen how perfect he literally is. "i think you're just overthinking. firstly, gamers aren't losers. secondly, you do have a social life. you have me. and you have those other friends you game and hang out wit-" "yes but seungcheol and mingyu are also losers. seungcheol is literally in college but hasn't been able to get laid yet." wonwoo's dead-serious words make you burst out laughing, and he joins in.

"i think it's just because you're all shy. it's okay! you know i'm super shy too." there's a pause before he replies, and you almost think you've lost your internet connection. "i don't think you're as shy as me, though." "there's no comparative metric, won."

another pause. "maybe. but i wish i wasn't like this. you know, you and i live in the same city, but we've never even planned to meet up or anything."

your pulse flutters in your neck. "but that's the charm of online friendships! we connect so well, but just talking online is enough, isn't it?"

"yes... but don't you ever get curious?"

you're moments away from a meltdown. you want to confess your secret and run away from the desktop at the same time- because you're sure he's recognised you. but thankfully he replies before you do. "but then again, i wouldn't ever be able to face you because of how often you've beaten me in overwatch." and his laugh breaks the tension and you take a deep breath of relief. fuck. that was close.

"wonwoo, you were right when you'd told me you'll need some help in pre-calc. i understand that the curriculum in your previous school was slightly behind ours here, which is why your foundation is a bit weak. don't worry, smart boys like you catch up in no time." you'd barely paid attention to your math teacher's ramblings, eager to pack up your bag and leave for home. it's finally the end of the class day, and you're excited for the weekend. you also know wonwoo's birthday is tomorrow, and you've bought a new character for him on the game you're both obsessing on currently, and you can't wait to hear his excited, high-pitched giggle tonight when he receives his gift mid-match.

"y/n and seori, i want you to discuss amongst yourselves who would like to tutor wonwoo in his pre-calculus foundations for the rest of this term. you'll receive extra marks for this on my paper, so i request you to take this seriously."

your bag slips from your fingers, as you look up, an ashen look on your face. it's clear that your teacher wants you to take this up with the way she's got her eyes fixed on you even as seori has already stepped up to her. thankfully she speaks before you need to. "i'll do it, ma'am. y/n, i hope that's okay with you? i really need the extra marks," she whispers the last bit to you, and you let out a sigh of relief as you nod your approval. you look away from seori to see wonwoo's eyes on yours, and you panic for a moment. but there's no sign of recognition. just a mild curiosity and confusion flash in his pretty eyes, before you avert your eyes and walk out of the classroom.

it's probably a coincidence, you tell yourself as you walk back home, your heart still racing from the close escape you made mere minutes ago. it was bound to happen some time or the other, you console yourself, you're lucky to have avoided it for two entire months anyway. but as soon as you reach home and switch on your desktop, you see a notification flash.

4 messages from jeonwonubokdeongeori

what can he have to say? what if he has actually recognised you? you gulp, your palms sweaty as you click it open.

hey can we skip tonight's gaming session? i have a small gaming party with my friends tonight and then they'll be coming over for a sleepover

oh, must be a birthday celebration.

sorry if you were looking forward to it :(

you were looking forward to it. you've spent a solid bit of your savings from your pocket money to buy it for him, and you'd really looked forward to, well, hearing his reaction. but you wouldn't dream of barging into his plans.

ooh it's not a big deal at all! i hope you have fun, wonu <3

you see him come online instantly, and you're hit with panic. maybe you shouldn't have sent the heart. it was overstepping boundaries, wasn't it?

i'll make it up to you, princess ^^

god. he knows too damn well how to make your heart flutter.

or maybe you can come along and join the party? you already know seungcheol, right? it'll just be him and a couple of my other friends. jungkook and mingyu. they're really fun too hehe

the panic rises in your throat again. fuck. you remember exactly what happened the last time you joined a gaming party with wonwoo and seungcheol. and you've spent the entire last month trying to erase it from your memory, and if you could, really, from wonwoo's memory too. so you're pretty quick to turn him down.

nah i think i'll pass have fun tho!

and then you go offline to avoid spiralling into your thoughts, and get into studies. which is actually what you should be doing, instead of gaming with your crush anyway.

silence.

radio fucking silence.

there's just the pitter patter of the rain outside, but no replies from wonwoo.

i like hearing you laugh.

i'm glad i found you.

sweet girl friend.

it all feels like a lie when you stare for hours at the unseen, unread, unopened message that's staring back at you from your chat with wonwoo. it's almost night, one would think he could text back with a simple thank you after you'd spent half your pocket money on buying him the new character.

or maybe wonwoo is just like all the other boys. what did you even expect? that he'd be rolling over in gratitude after you buy him something he's been audibly craving for for weeks now? that he'd confess his love for you after you stupidly purchase something for him that has no real value?

get out of your damned imaginary world, y/n, you chide yourself mentally as you wipe the lone tear that has begun sliding down your cheek. but it doesn't make sense! after all these months of getting to know wonwoo, you simply can't believe it that he's this heartless that he won't even have the courtesy of replying back after almost an entire day of receiving the gift. and you know it's not an unwanted gift. and you also know wonwoo isn't the type to ghost you either! you'd think he's busy or caught up in something- but you can the little text next to his discord icon showing that he's been online today. then there's really no logical explanation left that can explain this kind of beha-

oh.

of course.

of course! he must have found out who you are. fuck. maybe during the delivery of the character, they must have shown him your email address or something to show them who's send him the gift. and that would be a total giveaway because your email address definitely contains your name. either he's put two and two together and matched princess with y/n, and naturally, instantly felt repulsed by you- hence the lack of response.

or.... (and this is honestly the worse option) he thinks you're just y/n who's sending him a birthday gift that miraculously coincides with something he really wants. oh my god. this really is much worse than the other alternative because now he thinks of you as a creep who can't even meet his eyes in class but must be stalking him and finding out about his gaming hobby.

another slow tear rolls down your cheek, and the phone drops from your hands and crashes down on the tiled floor, the screen cracking from side-to-side.

at this point, you should just drop out from school.

but of course you don't. monday comes round, and so does your period. you've never been more thankful for cramps before today. at least it saves you from the embarrassment of facing wonwoo. as you toss and turn in pain on your bed all day, trying fruitlessly to read your study material, your mind keeps going back to one face.

a single, delicately created face, with eyes that look alive. complete with a simple pair of metal glasses, shining against the spots of barely-there acne on two cherub cheeks.

you shake your head and dump your books on your lap. there's no point in this. it's a risk you've taken from the first day when you'd decided to hide from him instead of coming out as your true self. who knows, perhaps he wouldn't have rejected your friendship so blatantly then? instead, you try to sleep. maybe that'll help you feel refreshed.

but oh, you're not even left relieved in your sweet sleep. a single scene keeps replaying in your head as soon as you shut your eyes.

it was the first time you were in a live gaming party with voice unmuted. wonwoo, two of his friends, and two other friends from the common gaming server, smera and roy. he'd convinced you to switch on your mic because it was just friends who you trusted anyway. well, that was just the first mistake.

the second mistake had been, of course, to get comfortable enough with all of them to agree to play that silly truth and dare game. and then one thing had led to another, and a little bit of prodding from smera had ended up with you confessing that if there was anyone in this group who you'd kiss, it'd be wonwoo. if the mortification of that wasn't bad enough, smera had gone ahead and said that she'd even lowkey expected it. and within moments everyone else had forgotten your confession- it was as if they didn't even know how hard it had been to admit it- when rob confessed that he really want to kiss mingyu right now and the group started cheering.

the third mistake, and the worst one, had been staying on call with wonwoo after the party was over. "so you'd kiss me, huh?" he'd asked softly, his voice laced with a grin, as you'd blushed and thanked god he couldn't see you right now in your embarrassed live wire state. "among the others, yes. i don't know the others as well as i know you!" you'd rushed to explain, hoping your voice wasn't quivering as fast as your heartbeat. and then wonwoo had gone silent for a very long time, before saying, "and what if we knew each other outside this world, y/n? would you kiss me then?"

and then you hadn't been able to reply. you'd frozen in your spot, until wonwoo's shy laugh could be heard and he'd resumed the game.

you don't know if you could still reply today. perhaps it's the secret you'll hang for.

your excuse only lasts so long and eventually it's wednesday and you make your way out of bed. you've mentally lectured yourself enough times to know all the different things wonwoo might have to say to you and you've armed responses for most of them (although you think you're going to end up running away in almost all of them, forgetting your practiced response in the spur of the moment). your first class in mathematics, and you decide to arrive just a few minutes late so as to avoid any chance of conversation with wonwoo before class.

"oh y/n, you're finally here." your legs falter as you appear at the door of the classroom and find your teacher looking you straight in the eye. "sorry i'm late, ma'am!" "it's okay. i'd thought you'd be absent again." "i wasn't feeling well, ma'am, i'd mailed-" "yes yes i know," she nods her head impatiently. "it's good you came today. you'll have to start tutoring wonwoo from today itself. mid-terms are in two weeks, and i want his level to improve by then." "i thought seori...?" "seori isn't professional enough, from what wonwoo's told me."

it's only at this point that you realise that there's another pair of eyes focused on you in a piercing gaze. you know who it is, and you try your best to avert your glance.

not professional? you wonder what that may mean.

"fix up a timing for the sessions, and please don't disappoint me, y/n." she says the last bit with a pleading tone in her voice, and you wince. "alright, ma'am."

all through the class, there's only one thing playing in your mind on loop. you. wonwoo. in the tutoring room. alone. for the next two weeks. fix up a timing for the sessions. don't disappoint me. your lower lip wobbles and you can feel the tears inching in your eyes slowly. expectations. disappointment. aren't you just a disappointment to everyone? to your parents. to your teachers. to yourself.

even to wonwoo.

if you hadn't kept your head down for the entirety of the class, gazing at the sight outside the window, your attention completely unfocused from class, you would've noticed a figure turning to look at you whenever the teacher has her back to the class. but you don't notice him, so you don't realise his eyes fixed on you when you make a dash out of class as soon as the teacher leaves the classroom. you want to escape the inevitable for just another day- defer it, rather. you know it's going to be torture when wonwoo finally accosts you. as you make your way to a corner in the school, a secluded spot near the roof, where you've never seen anyone else going except yourself, a flurry of thoughts float in your head. all thoughts that should ideally deter you from running away. but you do it nonetheless, because you can't think straight. you feel the tangible cloud of these worries clog your throat as you hide in your favourite hideout corner and cover your face with your hands as you feel the fresh wind blow onto your heated skin.

he's going to hate you more now because you're delaying the academic help he deserves, simply because of your stupid nerves.

he's likely going to complain against you to the teachers, how you've taken academic responsibilities casually, and mar your good academic record and rapport with teachers. fuck, that's a further lower chance of getting the LORs you need.

he's also likely going to talk about what a creepy stalker you truly are in your mutual gaming circles, and you'll be ousted from the one safe space, your hobby, the one place where you've felt unjudged, the only place you can be yourself.

fuck. fuck. f-

"how long are you going to hide from me, princess?"

you freeze on spot. the voice is unmistakable, it's haunted your dreams long enough. you can feel a warmth in your periphery and you know he's right behind you. the hair on the back of your neck rise up into goosebumps and you know you've been caught.

you turn around slowly, your eyes fixed to the ground. you see wonwoo's sparkling white sneakers standing close to yours, and in the silence of this secluded spot, you can hear his breathing, slow and steady, completely contrasting your own shallow, frenzied breathing.

"i d- don't kn-know what you're t-talking a-about." you stutter through every word, your skin burning up with the keen awareness of wonwoo catching you red-handed.

"so that's how it going to be?" you can see his toes edge slightly forward, as if he's rocking in his shoes. and then you start to feel slightly less tensed. you start to focus on the tone he's using- it's not particularly menacing. in fact, it's not angry at all. which is surprising because-

"are you mad at me, princess?"

this time you look up, and you're hit with the force of wonwoo's beautiful eyes looking straight at you from barely any distance. with his height, he's easily towering over you, his glasses making his gaze more stern... and yet the way he's looking at you, it's so... soft? how odd that he's asking you if you're mad at him, when truly, it's quite the opposite.

"i sh-should be asking y-you that."

"me?" he tilts his head to one side in query, eyebrows furrowing. "i could never be mad at you."

your voice quivers as you speak the next words, "but you now know who i am."

"and?"

"that's why you're avoiding me!"

"that's true." you take a step back at his words. "so you do admit it, wonwoo?"

"i do. if you're referring to my lack of communication in this last few days, then it is true. i won't blame it on any excuse except my own conscious behaviour."

god. he's going to just say it like that. straightforward. no roundabouts. no sugarcoating. perhaps it's better like that. will save you the pain of hope after the heartbreak.

you look straight into wonwoo's eyes. "i get it, wonwoo. i've disappointed you. and you regret ever making friends with you. because i'm not popular, nor smart, nor attractive. you know how you'd wished if we could ever meet in real life? the truth is, now you're glad you didn't follow along that plan, otherwise you'd regret it terribly."

"i do regret it." he lifts his hand to brush your bangs out of your eyes. you almost jerk at his touch, but it's too gentle. when it gently wisps along your cheek, it feels... almost familiar. how cruel of him to do this before he's going to reject you outright. how cruel of him to give you a taste of heaven before leaving you heartbroken.

"why are you doing this, wonwoo? can't you leave me alone?"

his hand frames your cheek, cupping it barely, and you want to lean into his touch. when his cold palm slowly begins getting warmer through your touch, he speaks again. "i regret not meeting you sooner, princess. or rather, y/n. i regret not following up on that, y/n, because that way you'd never think such mean things about yourself. not just are you being mean to yourself, but also you're being mean to me!"

"to you?" your eyes grow wide, and a small smile plays on wonwoo's lips. "yes. you're not giving me a chance to explain myself. i'm sorry for disappearing on you after my birthday." he pauses, and you just raise your eyebrows, waiting for the explanation he's so desperate to give.

"yes, well. dumb move on my part. but then- i didn't know how to react after you sent that character to me!"

"how did you know it was me?"

"the mail id?"

"yes. damn, yes. i knew it."

he chuckles, "but i knew that you were princess long before that." "you did?" "seungcheol's sister goes to this school, you know? she'd recognised your voice immediately." you gasp at his words, "but you're still not letting me finish."

you take a step back, suddenly reeled back to reality. you try to move your face away from his hands, and his left hand drops from your cheeks, only to grab on to your wrist even as you step away. "i was stupid. i didn't know if you sending me the gift was... just friendly or something more. and just because i feel something more doesn't mean you will reciprocate it."

"what do you mean?" your voice is softer now, glazed with curiosity.

"the reason why i disappeared on you was because i needed time to think my way through with how i wanted to approach this with you. and convincing our math teacher to get you, her favourite student, to tutor me was the easiest way out ever." there's another chuckle, but your mind is spinning.

"approach what with me? wonwoo?"

he takes another step towards you, his hand slipping lower than your wrist and holding your palm now, inches away from locking his fingers around yours.

"i like you, y/n. don't you know that already?"

your mind whirls again, and you blink for a few seconds. "what?!" he blinks back at you, equally shocked. "i thought it was obvious, y/n. do you think i play games with any girl every night? share every life update with any girl every night? can't go to sleep without hearing the voice of any girl every night?"

"won-wonwoo..."

"so tell me now, please. spare me the heartbreak and tell me why you sent me that gift."

it feels surreal, but wonwoo's racing pulse against your fingers makes you realise that he's real. this is real. this is happening. wonwoo likes you.

"of course i like you wonwoo. i even told you i'd kiss you. wasn't that a giveaway enough?"

"you said that because i was the only one you'd kiss in a room full of other friends... but it didn't mean anything!" he's quick to protest, and your heart melts. maybe wonwoo is shier than you'd thought. so you take a step closer to him, and link your fingers into his finally. "well now you know what it means."

three bunked classes later, you and wonwoo make your way back to the main classroom area of the school. the rush of adrenaline in your body is insane right now, because you're holding hands with wonwoo. with wonwoo! you don't think you can believe it, so you keep looking down at your hands to make sure its real.

"i wish i'd met you before y/n. i was so desperate to know you more! it was so obvious," wonwoo's low giggles are music to your ears as he leans in to whisper his sweet words. "i thought that's why you kept running away from me." his hand slips out of your lock, and around your waist, pulling you in gently. you gasp at his move, and look around quickly to see if anyone's looking. but thankfully, there's no one in the corridors right now, so you let his hand remain there.

"i kept hiding because i was worried how you'd react on knowing the real me, won." "but i knew the real you already. sight isn't our only sense, you know." "yes, but i'm not-" "i don't care what you're not. there's so many things i'm not. and yet, you say that you like me. so what matters is you and me, don't you think?" you turn your head up to look at him, blushing at the fond look in his soft eyes. you want to hug him, pull him towards you and never let him go. but you settle for leaning closer into his body for now.

"i was promised a tutoring session, you know." he says slowly, as you realise you're both walking towards the isolated tutoring room of the school. it's empty right now, because it's still class hours. "do you want to be tutored now?" you raise your eyebrows, concerned at his wish to break out of this precious moment you're having and instead study. "i want to be in the tutoring room right now. there are no cctvs, see." you spin around to quickly check, blushing at the way he's whispering into your ear. but before you can turn back to him and reply, you feel a wet peck on your cheek, and your body bursts into flames.

jeon wonwoo just kissed you.

"wonwoo!"

"what? did you not like it?" he whispers, slightly alarmed.

"no! just! warn a girl before you do things like this, you know." you try to hide your blush furiously, but fail, as he wraps you into his embrace. "there are no other girls to warn. only you. and i don't need to warn you. because now you know i do things like this." and he leans in again, and before you realise, he's left a kiss on your nose. your heart races as you avert your gaze, and you're both erupting into giggles. "you're really a menace, jeon wonwoo." he cups your face with his hands, looking right into your eyes.

"and you're my princess, y/n."

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groceryreceiptss · 1 year ago

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𝐚𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | p.j.

percy jackson x reader | word count : 1.4k | requested

summary : though you were a skillful archer, you were an amateur when it came to dealing with a sword. while percy helped you trained for hours after lunch, he couldn’t help but fall in deeper with you, even though you’d probably never know it.

contains : my writing (again, warning). just fluff things <3 reader was implied as apollo's daughter, but never actually specified. oh, and a katniss everdeen reference! (because is the fic actually written by me if it doesn't include at least one thg reference?). let me know if there’s more!

a/n : i do NOT know how to write action-y scenes (even ones that are as light as this) so sorry if this comes out as flat haha. i had to get out my copy of the lightning thief just to be a tinny bit more familiar with it to be honest. also yes the title is kinda cheesy but soo is this entire fic < 3

credits : fan art by frostbite.studios, dividers by @benkeibear, pins i used (1) (2) (3)

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The afternoon sun hit the color of your eyes as you tried the move he had just demonstrated to you. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and your forehead slicked with sweat. A borrowed but fitting sword was gripped in your hand, ready to clatter his. Percy and you had been going at it ever since lunch ended and yet you still seemed determined to keep going.

Percy counted and you attacked, one, two, three. Next move, you tried to thrust it into the right of his protected ribcage. But with your lovely eyes being a little too obvious and your hand still clumsy with the blade, he deflected it off easily, letting yours fall to the ground.

“Oh, I’m terrible,” you said with an embarrassed smile, pulling up your bronze helmet and dragging a hand to swipe your hair out of your forehead. You retrieved the sword and turned to ask him. “Okay, honest opinion. What did I do wrong?”

“Well…” he started, as he took off his own helmet, tucking it under his arm, “Your eyes give away a bit too much to the opponent, so I could easily tell what you were going to do. You’re still too hesitant about it I think.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Well, how can I not when my opponent at this given moment is Percy fucking Jackson but go on.”

Percy was thankful that the sun was taking it one for the team and became a cover for the red that just possibly covered his face. He shook his head, fighting a smile that was trying to break through his lips. Joke about it, take defense.

The lines of his mouth morphed into a teasing grin. “Is that an excuse that I hear, miss y/l/n? Since when do you play with those?” You were always so stubborn, in the best sense of the word. And Percy always found it admirable to say the least.

You raised your eyebrows before shooting back, “And if it is, it's also not unreasonable, Mr. Jackson.” That cute smile of yours taking flight in your face. He noticed that it was still the same one from when he first saw you at twelve, a few years back. Some things never changed.

“What else?” You asked again, crossing your arms with the sword pointing downward. “Come on, don't be shy. I can take it.”

He considered it before answering. “Your hand wasn’t steady enough with the sword and with the move you were trying to execute. It made it a bit… off. And hard to get away in battles.”

You let yourself collapse to the ground with a dramatic sigh, exhaustion finally took over you. Your legs stretched in front of you and your helmet and sword clanged by your side. “Never mind, I lied, I can't take it."

He laughed and sat down next to you, putting his equipment by yours. The wind was finally picking up now, bringing a sense of balance to the hot weather.

"I can never get this right.” You huffed, blowing up your loosen hair, which Percy couldn't help but think that you looked slightly adorable.

“It’s totally fine,” he promised you, words creeped with encouragement. “Just be more confident! I swear it works. Or just…” he trailed off, unsure, and then shrugged. “don’t think about it too much, I guess.”

“Contradiction, contradiction.” You said in a sing-song voice before looking at him with that inspecting face and said, “Do you drink some secret potion or something? Someone altered your ambrosia?”

Percy let out a laugh, “Your perception of me is unrealistically high, I see. I can say the same to you, Katniss Everdeen.”

Your face’s expression stretched with surprise before you nodded in approval. “That’s the best way to compliment my archery skills actually, yes. Forget Apollo the doofus.”

“Who?” Percy played in the joke, to which you answered with the only appropriate one : “Exactly.”

He clapped his hand, an idea forming in his head. "Alright, how about this. If you give it a try just one more time, I'll give you some blue cupcakes my mom just sent me a few days ago." He offered with a knowing smile, getting you too well to strike a tempting bargain with you.

Percy knew how in love you were with his mom's cupcakes. Sally Jackson made the best for the best. It had only taken one bite and he could already tell how head over heels you were with them. He might or might not be planning to try to make a batch himself as a surprise for your upcoming birthday, but he feared the baking talent of the greats did not pass onto him. These hands weren't only skilled in combat, but with a pair of mitts and an oven, they could also burn an entire kitchen down.

Still though. Seeing the way your eyes immediately lit up right now made him rethink his choices. Maybe burning down a room wasn't so bad. At least you would probably laugh at his pathetic attempt.

Your mouth split into a grin and he was brought back to the world. You shook your head in slight disbelief. "Bringing Mrs. Jackson cupcakes into this? You are not playing fair, Perce."

"That's a deal then?" He held out his hand for a shake.

You sighed, putting his hand in yours. "Fine, deal."

Percy tried to ignore the fireworks he felt as he gripped your hand tighter and pulled you up to stand. His heart felt like it was trying to push its way out of his ribs, but in a good way. Like a thrill.

"Alright, one more time," He said as he retrieved his sword and you retrieved yours. "You ready?"

"Honestly, I'm just doing this for the cupcakes now." Seriously, how much could one person make him smile in the span of five minutes?

You and Percy put on the helmets. He counted to three, and you started taking offense as he took defense. One, two, three. It all started out well. Your movements were still a bit clumsy, but you'd get better on it in no time, he was sure. And you were doing pretty good work too. That was until you were stepping back, trying to deflect his now offensive movements, and tripped over yourself. You fell to the hard ground with an oof.

Luckily, with your equipment still intact, you couldn't be hurt that much. But Percy immediately dropped riptide and got to your side.

He knew it was stupid. You and him were both warriors, you were good with a bow, he was good with a sword. Both of you had been injured multiple times in different kinds of battles, and yours had been more grotesque than his more than once, so this was absolutely nothing. Still, he guessed, the instinct to worry would just stay the same.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, as he gently pulled you up to a sitting position. His forehead was creased together as he looked at you, but you were instead laughing, finding your recent incident funny. "What?" He asked, couldn't help but let a laugh, albeit confused, out of his lips too. Yours were charmingly infectious.

You pointed at your face, your bronze helmet askew, voice still laced with traces of mirth. "Tell me, how silly do I look?"

He smiled, affection swarmed him. "Very silly," Should he risk it? "So silly, it's borderline annoyingly cute actually." Okay, risking it then.

But you just smiled, either welcoming it or oblivious to the actual meaning behind it. Probably the latter. You wouldn’t be convinced someone actually liked liked you even if it was plastered on a billboard. You pointed at his face, and laughed again, this time with an effort of covering your mouth. "You look so silly too, I'm sorry."

He shook his hand, bringing out a breath of laughter, unable to keep his smile from growing further under the protective gear. "Hey," he said, finally taking off his helmet and letting the wind touch his face. "It was in solidarity with you as a friend! Please appreciate it."

"I do!" You took off your helmet, letting the glow of the sun kiss your face again. Percy couldn't help but be entranced with the way you looked, still perfect even with the destroying searing weather of June. You couldn't keep doing this to him. "Sorry, I'll stop." You promised as you withdrew a laugh, but he actually wished you wouldn't. He loved hearing you laughed, it made the wind that danced around him a melodic thing, one he could be around forever—or whatever it was the poets said.

Looking at you made him understand what they were always talking and raving about, but he could never explain it.

"So," You began, "About those cupcakes?"

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#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x you #pjo #percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing!#requested

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kkyaka · 1 year ago

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Summary: You meet new friends your second year of college, but the hot art major is the one who really catches your eye

Pairing: Sero Hanta x black!fem!reader

Word Count: 31,865 (😐)

Warnings: college!au, sero's an art major, lots of flirting, reader is seriously crushing on sero, reader is kinda innocent, mentions of light partying, drinking, and weed, reader gets drunk, lots of fluffy moments, sero's whipped for you, confession of feelings, reader has doubts about sero's feelings, date night at the fair, public indecency kinda (sero feels you up in the ferris wheel), you and sero shower together at one point, kinda a lot of smut lmfao, fingering (f), sero's kinda got a corruption and innocence kink, handjob, tit fondling, tit sucking, oral (f + m), thigh fucking, reader's a virgin, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, "just the tip", squirting, little bit of dirty talk on sero's part, trapping sorta (reader doesn't let sero pull out), sero's a smug bastard and a HUGE flirt, lemme know if I missed anything!

A/N: I honestly do not know how I managed to write all of this, but I was having the time of life doing so lmfao. Lowkey writing with my clit on this one 💀, and this was high key based on this fanart. Another fic of mine that has made its way to the top of my favorites lmfao. Thank you for reading and reblogs are greatly appreciated! And happy new year!

You were already entering your second year of college, and you hadn’t really done much that would classify as living the “college experience.” Your life was pretty monotonous; waking up, going to class, doing homework, and studying. You’ve made a couple of friends, but you don’t hang out with them very often unless all of you are free.

That doesn’t bother you very much, you’ve never been a social butterfly in the first place anyway. You like your roommate, but you don’t see her that often because she’s usually staying with her boyfriend most of the time. You don’t really mind since that means you can have your own peace and quiet when you go home, but sometimes, on the days when you don’t have anything to do, you wish you had more to do with your time.

The second semester is underway, and you’re heading to your second class of the day. You get there pretty early since you don’t know where the classroom is, and you get there right as the class before yours gets out. You wait for the people to file out before you walk in, trying to see what seat would be the best to sit at.

The classroom isn’t that big, not really being as big as a lecture hall, so you’re expecting this class to be on the smaller side, and you pick a seat on the inside of the row further towards the back of the room. There are a few other people in the room that got here early just like you did, and you set your backpack beside you before pulling your laptop out.

The class starts to pile in as the time for the class to start gets closer, and as you're pulling up your notes for the class, you can see someone sitting in the row next to you in your peripheral, but you don’t pay attention to them. It would’ve been worse if they sat directly next to you.

“I love your shoes,” you hear right as the professor walks in, and you turn to look at the person that sat next to you.

“Oh, thank you,” you say warmly, sticking your foot out a bit as you look down at your shoes.

“This is my second time taking this class,” she tells you making you frown a little.

“Really? Is it hard?” you ask cautiously.

“That or I just didn’t pay attention well enough,” she jokes, and you laugh with her, the joke easing your worries a bit. You know this class isn’t going to be easy, but the fact that you already know someone that’s taken it makes you feel a lot better. “I’m Mina,” the pink-haired girl introduces herself, holding her hand out.

“y/n,” you introduce warmly, shaking her hand. “So, what year are you?”

“A junior,” she supplies. “You?”

“Sophmore. I could’ve taken this class last year, but I didn’t wanna deal with it yet.”

“Oh, I totally understand that,” she agrees, and the professor starts talking which signals the end of your conversation. Since this class is so short, the professor already went over the syllabus before class started, so she got into the content right away. You had already downloaded the slides on your tablet, writing any other notes she mentions as she talks.

Luckily, the class doesn’t feel like it lasts long, and that could be because the professor talked so fast. Once she dismisses the class, everyone starts packing up, and Mina turns to you once the both of you stand.

“So, are you done for the day?”

“Yeah! This was my last class of the day, so I’m free.”

“You wanna get lunch?” she asks as you both put your backpacks on. You give her an enthusiastic confirmation, and you follow her out of the room. You get to know each other more as you walk to get food, and she looks down at her phone before she turns back to you. “My friends are going to be joining us if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, not minding meeting more people. You both are the first ones to sit down at a table, and she tells you that her friends are on the way. You fill the time with talking about classes and finding out each other's majors.

Denki is the first of her friends that you meet, and you’re nearly overwhelmed by his bright personality. You all make conversation, finding yourself laughing at most of the jokes he cracks. Jirou’s in tow, and they sit by Mina. She tells Mina that another one of their friends will be here soon, and you wonder how they’ll be. Denki and Jirou are really friendly, so you assume that the next friend won’t be too far from that.

“Took you long enough to get here, Sero.” You’re looking down at your phone when you hear Jirou speak, so you look up to see who they are, and your face falls just a little. The last thing you were expecting was someone so good-looking.

“Yeah, yeah. My professor ran over,” he supplies, and you can’t take your eyes off of him. His hair is half up, half down, the bun of his hair sitting right above his neck, and you can see a sliver of a tattoo on his neck that disappears underneath his jacket.

“Well, since you’re here now, you can meet my new friend.” She gestures to you, telling him your name, and the smile he gives you is enough to render you speechless.

“Hey, I’m Sero,” he says, even though you already know that, and you almost don’t shake his hand because you’re so focused on looking at him.

“Hi,” you manage, internally groaning at how that’s all you can manage. He looks at you for a little while after you speak, his other friends are already engrossed in their own conversation. You try to think of something to say to fill the silence, but he beats you to it, pointing to the chair next to you.

“You mind?” he questions, and you shake your head, gesturing quickly for him to take the seat. He sheds his jacket, and you can see that the tattoo on his neck goes down further, once again being hidden by the shirt he’s wearing. Which hugs his body like no other, might you add. You swallow thickly as you look over his torso, your eyes catching another tattoo running down his arm.

He catches you looking at it, laughing softly as he sits down next to you. He pulls his sleeve up his impressive arm, moving his arm toward you so you can see it better. “Got it recently,” he tells you, and he grabs your hand. “You can touch it if you want.” You ignore the tingles that go up your arm, letting him guide your hand, and you softly run your fingers over the ink.

“It’s beautiful,” you admire, looking at the veins and flowers that flow over his skin.

“Yeah, that makes two of you.” You jump a little at his words, looking up at him, and you can’t stop how warm your face grows.

“Ah, um, thanks,” you mutter, wanting to slap your forehead. “Do you have any others?” you find yourself asking, still getting over the compliment.

“Yeah,” he starts, pulling his shirt down a little, so you can see the rest of the tattoo on his neck. “I’d have to take my shirt off to show you all of it, but,” he adds. “And I got a couple more.” You nod at his words, your eyes still lingering more on his physique than the tattoo. “You got any?”

“Uh, yeah,” you start, and you sweep your hair over your shoulder, turning a bit so he can see it. “It’s a matching tattoo I got with my sisters,” you explain, and you flinch a little when you feel his fingers run over it.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Shoulda asked first.”

“No, it’s okay. It just surprised me.” When his fingers leave your skin, you take that as a sign to face him again. “I want one on my spine the most,” you tell him, and you see his eyes flash, but then it looks like he rethinks what he was going to say.

“Really? Why there?”

“I just think it’ll look really cool, honestly,” you laugh, rubbing your hand over where his fingers once were.

“Yeah, it would.” He rests his arm on the back of your chair, his whole body facing toward you, and you’re practically gushing from the attention. It doesn’t seem like his friends are paying you any attention, and you continue your conversation. You talk to Sero most of the time, and it’s kind of hard to keep up since he keeps hitting you with sudden compliments, and each time you giggle. You feel like that’s exactly what he’s going for because he looks proud of himself every time you do.

You glance over to where everybody else is sitting, and to your surprise, they’re gone. “When did they leave?”

“Yeah, they always do that,” Sero responds. “I’m still here, though.”

“Right,” you laugh, holding back a shiver when he runs a finger up and down your arm.

“You doing anything for the rest of the day?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Not really. Just mentally preparing myself for all of the assignments I’m gonna have soon.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Your major’s more taxing than mine,” he says after he laughs quietly. You found out that Sero’s an art major, which really wasn’t a surprise, and he showed you some of his work which was probably the best thing you’ve laid your eyes on; besides the artist, of course. “Well, if you wanna head to the library or whatever, I won’t mind.”

“I’m probably just gonna head home honestly. The day’s been pretty eventful,” you say, and honestly, this is the most social interaction you’ve had in a long time.

“Mina is capable of drawing out a lot in people,” Sero sighs. “I’ll walk you home if that’s okay.” You don’t want to end your conversation with Sero just yet, and he definitely doesn’t need to walk you home, but you let him do it anyway.

When you stand, you can finally see how much he towers over you. You try not to pay so much attention to it, but he’s basically in your space the entire time you walk back to your dorm, so you really have no choice but to. When you get to your dorm, you feel kind of upset that it’s about to end so soon, and you think Sero can see it on your face.

“I’ll see you around,” he says when you stop walking. “You’re basically a part of our friend group now,” he continues before he leans down to your face. “So, we’ll meet again soon.” He flashes you a smile, winking at you before he walks away, and you put your hand on your chest when you feel your heart racing, taking a deep breath before you walk into your dorm.

The more the semester goes on, the more time you spend with your new friends, and you start to wonder if Sero’s flirty mannerisms are just a part of his personality. He seems to have them dialed up whenever he talks to you, and there’s not a part of you that hates it. Once you all learned about each other’s schedules, you started hanging out with whoever was free whenever none of you had class.

Most of the time it’s with Sero, who always manages to find the most peaceful places on campus. He claims it’s the best way to find inspiration, and you could honestly listen to him talk for hours. His voice always sounds so nice to your ears, and there have been too many times when you’ve zoned out while he’s talking, caught up in looking at his face.

You’re sitting outside since it’s so nice today, and you’re sitting on a blanket with Sero as you talk. Since the semester is in full swing, you’re mostly studying as you talk to him, turning to look at him as you talk every now and then. Once you’ve decided that you’ve done enough work for now, you put some of it away, and you chuckle softly as you put it in your backpack.

“Why are you staring at me, Sero?” you question, turning to look at him once you’re done.

“Cause I’m drawing,” he says warmly, smiling at you.

“Well, you can’t stare at me if you’re drawing.”

“I can be if you’re the one I’m drawing,” he counters smoothly, and that gets you to stop talking for a bit. “You’re really pretty, it would be a crime not to draw you.” Your smile widens, glancing away from him as your face heats up.

He gets up from the blanket, walks over to one of the many flower bushes that are in bloom, and he picks one off the bush. “Sero, you can’t just do that,” you scold lightly, and he shrugs as he walks back to you.

“It’s in the name of art,” he drawls, and you roll your eyes as he sits back down next to you, and he guides you to look at him with his fingers on your chin. “See? Look.” He moves your hair back behind your ear with his hand before sliding the flower behind it, his fingers lingering on your face before they fall away. “Beautiful,” he whispers, and you’re having such a hard time holding his eyes, wanting to look away bashfully.

“You’re such a sweet-talker,” you muse, and he slides closer to you, sweeping some of your hair over your shoulder.

“Only to pretty girls like you.” Your cheeks are hurting so bad from smiling, and you swear the sun gets a bit brighter, but you don’t want to tell yourself it’s just because the clouds aren’t hiding the sun anymore. “You wanna see what I drew?” You nod quietly and he hands you his notebook.

You can’t find any words as you look through it, seeing it filled with any and everything. Your movements slow when you flip the page, seeing both sides filled with pictures of you. You chuckle softly when you see that most of the pages after that are just you. “You don’t draw anything else?” you ask him.

“Not when you’re the best thing my eyes have seen.” You laugh at that, not knowing what to say to that at all.

“What? So, I’m like your muse or something?” you finally manage to ask.

“Definitely,” he answers quickly. “My professor has nothing but good things to say about what I’ve submitted, and I have you to thank for that.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help your grade,” you jest, and he grabs your hand.

“Lemme draw you something,” he says softly, and you move your hand further into his to give him the ok. He uncaps the marker he has in his other hand, and he slides his hand up to your wrist, lifting it up to place a soft kiss on your skin. The action nearly has you squirming, and he smirks, giving you a quick glance before drawing on your skin.

You watch him, wondering what he’s gonna draw, and you giggle a bit as he does, claiming it tickles. He pushes your head to the side softly, saying that he doesn’t want you to see it yet, and you laugh softly but look somewhere else anyway. When he’s finished, you look back down, seeing that it’s the flower that he put in your hair. It’s got so much detail, and he softly blows on it to make sure it’s dry.

You softly run your finger over it, and he grabs your wrist again. He kisses over the ink before gently rubbing his finger over it. “What was that for?”

“To make it last a little longer,” he tells you, and you chuckle looking down at it again.

“It’s beautiful, Sero. You’re really talented.”

“Why, thank you,” he muses before he lays back down, and this time he pulls you with him. You lay beside him, shielding your eyes from the sun as you look at the clouds. You can feel him brushing his fingers over the back of your hand as he starts to talk about what the clouds look like. And you get lost in the conversation, feeling like time slows down as you make out everything you can see.

You’re walking out of your class with Mina when you catch a familiar face, and you smile as Sero walks up to the both of you. He gravitates to your side, walking with you both as you leave the building. He only walks with you for a little, having another class to get to, and he sends you another wink with a promise to talk to you later before he walks away.

You look down at your feet as you walk, biting your lip to try and hide your smile. “So, what do you think of Sero?” Mina suddenly asks, and you snap your head toward her, looking like a deer in headlights.

“What do you mean?” you ask, barely managing to not stutter over your words.

“You know what I mean,” she presses playfully, nudging your shoulder with her elbow gently. “Something tells me you’ve got a crush.”

Your cheeks flood with heat, pressing your hand to your face quickly. “I dunno. He’s really cool,” you respond lamely.

“Oh, I think you think he’s more than cool,” she teases. “It’s okay to admit you like him, girl.”

“I guess so,” you quietly admit.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You shove her softly as she laughs, rolling your eyes. “I don’t blame you, though. He is very easy on the eyes.” You laugh as you shake your head. It’s not like that’s a lie, and you obviously like more than just his looks.

You haven’t really known him for that long, only a couple of months, but every time you talk to him it’s like you’ve known each other for longer than that. You look down at your feet again, smiling as you think about all the time you’ve spent with him. Yeah, you do like him, but you don’t really want to admit that out loud until you know how Sero feels.

It might seem weird, but you don’t want to put all this thought into admitting your feelings when he doesn’t even feel the same way. “But I still don’t know how he feels about me,” you respond, and you feel conflicted at your words because you feel like with the way he acts around you, he feels the same way you do. But there’s a part of you that’s saying that this is all an act, maybe. He might talk to other girls this way.

“Are you serious?” Mina sighs. “There’s no way you believe that.”

“I dunno. I mean, is it okay for me to assume he has feelings for me?” you question, uncertainty in your words.

“Okay, you know what?” she starts after she sighs again. You both stop in front of the building that Mina has to go into, and she turns to face you. “Sero’s having a little house party on Friday, and you will be there. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you about it yet.”

“I’m not the partying type,” you start, and she shakes her head quickly, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Nope! You will be there, and I will be at your dorm to make sure you’re coming,” she pushes, and you know there’s no arguing, so you roll your eyes before you smile again.

“Fine! I’ll go,” you say, chuckling a bit. She cheers a little bit, bouncing on her feet, and she gives you a quick hug before walking into the building. You shake your head as you start to walk away, your thought quickly turning to think about what you’re going to wear.

Friday sneaks up on you, and you’ve been deciding what to wear for about an hour and a half. You had ideas of outfits in your head since the beginning of the week, but you never had a chance to actually pull them out and get a really good look at them. Mina calls you, and you let her into the building before walking to your room.

“Please do not tell me that’s what you’re wearing,” she says as you walk to your dorm.

“I’m stuck on what to wear,” you tell her, and she walks into what looks like your wardrobe and a tornado mixed. Since your roommate’s not here, you were using her bed to spread out some of your clothes, and you sit down at your desk as Mina looks through them.

“This is cute,” she comments, picking up a dress that you can count on one hand how many times you’ve worn.

“I don’t know if it fits my body right, though,” you say, standing up and taking it from her, putting it up against your body.

“Okay, well, I’ll be the judge of that.” She urges you to put it on, so you change out of your clothes, slipping it on, holding your hands out when you’ve got it on. “Oh, my God, you look amazing! What do you mean you don’t know if it fits your body?”

“You really think it looks okay?” you ask, trying your hardest not to cross your arms over your body.

“Yes! You look fine! Now get your shoes on because I’ve still gotta get drinks.” You quickly put your shoes on, checking to make sure you’ve done everything you need to do before grabbing your phone and keys, and walking out with Mina.

After Mina gets the drinks, she drives over to Sero’s house, and you’re a bit surprised that her car is one of the few there when she pulls into the driveway. “I thought you said this was a house party?” you say as you get out of the car. “Are we here early?”

“This is more like a kickback than a house party,” she offers, and you walk behind her as she walks up to the door, knocking on it before opening it up. “We’re here!” she announces, and you close the door behind you, seeing Denki and Jirou along with some of their other friends. Some of the you’ve met in passing a few times, and others you find out are just friends of friends.

You quietly greet everybody, following Mina into the kitchen, so she can set her drinks down. You haven’t really drank before, so she got some seltzers for you to try. She hands you one, and when you look at it cautiously, she tells you that there’s no pressure to drink, but you decide that you only live once, so why not?

You pop it open, take a sip, surprised at how good it tastes. You take a few more sips as Mina says that she has to go check on something really quick, and as you’re watching her walk away, Sero is walking up to you. You nearly choke on your drink, taking in his outfit right before you have a coughing fit.

He’s wearing black jeans that practically look like a second skin, the loose button shirt he’s wearing half-tucked into his jeans with a chain hanging from two of the belt loops. Only a couple of the buttons are buttoned, leaving his toned chest on display, and your eyes catch on the chain that swings a little when he walks.

“You came,” he says when he gets to you, immediately crowding into your space, and you don’t shy away from it.

“Yeah, Mina practically dragged me here,” you laugh, taking another sip from the can.

“You look great,” he compliments, his eyes running down your body, and you look down at yourself, taking another swig in hopes of easing your nerves.

“Thanks,” you say after you swallow, and you suddenly get a warm feeling that runs through your veins, and you’re mostly sure it’s the alcohol. Your eyes catch the rings on his fingers as he rubs at his neck, seeing that his hair is down, some of it nearly falling into his eyes. “You look good, too.”

“Yeah?” he presses, crowding you against the counter, and your nose picks up how good he smells, and it’s almost enough to make your knees wobble. You nod, keeping the can next to your mouth as you look down to hide your smile. He picks your head back up by your chin as he lets the other hand rest on the counter next to you. “You should feel my shirt,” he offers, taking your hand in his, and his touch is making you feel like you’re on fire. You can barely focus on touching the fabric, feeling how it’s soft and silky at the same time, and in the back of your mind, you think how on-brand it would be for him to have a silk shirt.

He then guides your hand to where his chest is exposed and before you can think, you're splaying your fingers against his skin, feeling how firm it is. Your fingers tighten slightly around the can and his smirk widens. “You like what you see?” he whispers, leaning down to your face, and you wonder how long it takes for alcohol to hit your system when you’re drinking for the first time.

“Maybe,” you whisper, finally looking at him in the eyes, and you can’t keep eye contact for long, looking off to the side.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles, letting his fingers run over your neck, and you can’t stop the shudder that runs through you. He smiles at your reaction before he grabs your hand. “C’mon, let’s go sit with everyone else.”

He pulls you away, and while he’s walking, you take another swig in hopes that it’ll settle your racing heart. It seems to do the opposite though because by the time you’re taking a seat on the couch, that warm feeling runs through you again. Everyone’s having their own conversations, none of them stopping when the two of you walk into the room, and Mina gives you a look that you just roll your eyes at.

Sero sits down on the end of the couch, pulling you with him, and you practically fall into him as you start to feel a lot more relaxed. You eventually join in on some of the conversations, actually talking and meeting Bakugou and Kirishima since you’ve only spoken to them briefly in passing. There’s music playing in the background, and you’re halfway through your seltzer when you really start to feel like you’re drunk.

You try not to draw too much attention to it, and you wonder if anyone can tell that your words are starting to slow down a bit, but if they do, they don’t say anything about it. Mina rolls a blunt, passing it around to everyone, and you refuse, feeling like getting crossed right now wouldn’t be the best idea.

You pass it to Sero, who takes a couple of hits before passing it over. You’ve finished your seltzer, and you start to lean more into Sero as Mina brings you another drink. He doesn’t seem to care when you feel his arm tighten around you, his fingers running over the exposed skin just beneath your dress. The touch starts to make you squirm a bit, and Sero smiles, giving you a look as he keeps doing it.

“How ya feeling, pretty girl?” Sero asks you, lifting your head up so that you can look at him. Everyone’s started to do their own thing, and some people have left, the main group of the bunch only remaining.

“I’m okay,” you say softly, blinking slowly, and you smile widely even though you don’t really have a reason to. He smiles back at you, squeezing his arm to your side just a bit in a way that feels ridiculously good.

“You want some water?” he asks quietly and you shake your head.

“No, ‘m okay,” you murmur, and he takes the drink from your hand, which you don’t protest, and he finishes it in about three swigs.

Mina’s sitting on the other side of you now, Denki and Jirou migrating over and taking Bakugou and Kirishima’s spots on the floor. You wonder where they went, noticing that Izuku is gone as well. “Are we the only ones left?” you ask, looking up at Sero, and he nods his head towards the back door.

“The others went to get some air,” he tells you.

“Why don’t we play Never Have I Ever?” Mina offers, and if you were sober, you would call her out on how suspicious her voice sounds, knowing that she’s up to something, but in your state, you can only focus on Sero’s body against you.

“She’s not drinking anymore,” Sero tells her.

“That’s okay. We can just use our fingers,” she offers, and you shrug, figuring that there’s nothing else to do. The questions start off pretty tame, but that doesn’t last very long, and you can feel your face growing warm at the questions the more taboo they become.

“Never have I ever used sex toys,” Mina says, and your face seems to get even warmer, but your finger doesn’t go down. “So, what do you use?” she asks you, her voice genuine. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she adds.

“I just, um…” you start, still feeling a bit nervous to admit it even though you’ve got alcohol running through your veins. “Squeeze my legs. I’ve tried using my fingers, but it feels kinda weird.” You hide your face in Sero’s chest for a second, laughing a little before you turn to everyone else.

“Have you had sex before?” Jirou asks, prompting you to shake your head.

“I haven’t had a boyfriend before,” you admit softly.

“Really?” Mina gasps, and you nod your head, shrugging.

“I guess I just never saw someone that I liked,” you respond honestly. “But at the same time, I wasn’t really looking for one.”

“I get that,” Mina supplies. “So, you’ve never done anything?”

“Not really, I’ve just made out with a couple of guys but that’s it.” You’re not really shy to admit that since everything is out in the open now, and everyone moves on to the next question. The last of the drinking is jello shots, and you only take one since Denki made them so strong, and you can feel yourself getting drunk all over again.

The game stops a little while after, and everyone leaves to raid Sero’s kitchen which he just rolls his eyes at, and he looks down at you. “You okay?” he asks, poking at your side, and you giggle a little, nodding your head.

“Yeah,” you answer, looking up at him. You’re about to say something else, but you slowly close your mouth as you rethink it.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” You feel like you could be on cloud nine hearing him call you that, and you want to hear it again. He frowns a little when you push off of him, barely being able to stand up due to how much you’re wobbling. He keeps his hands out to make sure you don’t fall, and you stand in front of you him.

And what you do next is definitely because of the alcohol because there’s no way you would do it sober. You take his hands, moving them to the side before you straddle his lap, and his eyebrows raise high on his head, and you smile, finally being able to do something to catch him off guard.

“I really like you, Sero,” you say softly, leaning forward so that your face is barely away from his, and he huffs a little, smiling widely. He laces his fingers with yours, and you laugh softly as you ignore that voice in your head screaming what in the hell are you doing.

“Really now?” he teases and you nod quickly.

“Yeah. But I dunno if you like me,” you voice aloud.

“Don’t worry that pretty little head, sweetheart. I like you, too,” he answers, tugging a little at your dress since it’s ridden up, and you forgot that you’re not really wearing the right thing for the position you’re in. You smile widely, reeling at his answer, and you rest your forehead against his.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” you ask, and he watches you for a bit before he answers.

“Definitely. But I’m not gonna do it now.”

“Why not?” you whine, pressing your head against his a little more.

“Because I wanna make sure you know what you’re saying. You’re drunk.”

“I know what I’m saying, I promise,” you pout, and he laughs softly, moving your hands from side to side.

“I know, baby, but I don’t wanna do anything you’re not gonna like,” he presses, and your pout only deepens, and you let his and your hands fall to your sides as you sit up.

“You don’t wanna kiss me?” you ask, and he can’t help but look at you, seeing how your dress hugs every curve of your body, the end of it threatening to expose even more skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him in instead. “Shit, don’t look at me like that.” He carefully sets his hands on your waist, taking a quick breath. “Of course, I wanna kiss you, just not right now.”

What he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you how he wants to, defile you in ways that would make your mind go numb, but he doesn’t he remains strong. But you’re surely but slowly breaking his will down.

“I’ll remember it, I promise,” you try again, letting yourself fall forward, resting your face in his neck. “Just one, Hanta?” you whisper in his ear, and his fingers twitch at your sides, releasing a loud groan.

Damn it, you smell so good, and Sero can feel himself getting lost in how your smell surrounds him. “Fuck, I gotta get you home,” he says, standing up with you in his arms. He sets you down, fixing your dress, and you’re still wearing that same pout that’s about to be his undoing. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You nod anyway, and he quickly dashes to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before telling everyone that he��s taking you home.

He grabs your hand to guide you to the door, and he grabs his jacket, helping you put it on before he goes to his car. He helps you buckle in before getting in himself, and the whole ride back to your dorm is just him with a tight grip on the steering wheel as he listens to you talk. You’re halfway through the bottle of water he gave you, and you think you’re sobering up since you feel a headache coming on.

You’re feeling more like yourself once he gets to your dorm, and he walks you to your dorm once you both get out of the car. “You sobering up yet?” he asks you softly, and you nod slowly, pushing at your forehead when you start to feel the pain of the headache.

“Yeah, my head’s starting to hurt.”

“Make sure you finish that and eat something, okay?” he tells you, but you don’t nod, instead you turn to him.

“I don’t think I’m drunk anymore,” you tell him, and he steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You sure?” he questions cautiously.

You nod quickly, but you can definitely feel some liquid courage still running through your veins, and you wrap your arms around his neck. God, he’s so much bigger than you, it does something to you that you’ve never felt before. It also doesn’t help that his jacket practically engulfs your frame, and his smell is even stronger now that you have it on.

He moves his other hand to your body, and both of his hands rub up and down your back, making your body react way more than it should. He takes a step closer to you, and you nearly hold your breath in anticipation. “Please, Sero,” you whisper, and he smiles for a split second, slowly letting his head come down to yours.

Right as you try to kiss him, he pulls away slightly, and you groan softly, tightening your arms around his neck so that he can’t go any further. What you were gonna say to him gets lost because his lips are suddenly on yours, and you’re glad his arms tighten around you because you swear you’re about to fall.

It feels like fireworks have been set off as you kiss him, feeling like the world has stopped. You hear something, and it takes you a while to realize that it’s coming from you, a moan slipping from you that he swallows. He groans as he deepens the kiss, pulling you into him until he can’t anymore.

You’re nearly on your toes because of how tall he is, and you wish this moment would never end, but it does shortly after, and you feel yourself chasing after Sero when he pulls away. “You okay?” he teases, seeing how hard you’re breathing, the glossy look in your eyes making him want to stay.

You nod, and he easily lets you pull him toward you again, kissing him just as hard until you have to pull away to catch your breath. You want to tell him that your roommate isn’t here, but you feel like that might be too fast, and the other part of your body screams at you for being an idiot.

“Text me when you get into your room, okay?”

“Okay,” you giggle, feeling giddy and like you’re on top of the world. “Text me when you get home,” you add, and he kisses you again quickly. Fuck, he’s got to leave before he gets ahead of himself. “See you later, Hanta,” you say warmly.

“I’ll see you soon, baby.”

You watch him get into his car and drive off before you go into your building, and you’re so tired that you don’t bother to change out of your clothes, only taking your shoes and socks off. You text Sero before you lay down, and you fall asleep almost immediately, but not without a smile on your face.

The first thing you think when you wake up is that the after-effects of drinking absolutely suck ass. You groan at the headache you feel, and you’re about two steps from throwing up. You grab your phone to see what time it is, and that’s when you see a text from Sero.

Good morning, beautiful

Text me when you get this

You smile at it, texting him back as you wonder if you have any pain medicine in your dorm. You set your phone on your bed, getting up slowly so you don’t throw up last night’s dinner, and you start your search. As you’re looking, you’re remembering everything that happened last night, and you feel embarrassed about how you acted at Sero’s house.

You stop in your tracks, letting your face fall in your hands as you think about you nearly pounced on him last night, a loud groan following as you think about it. But then you’re immediately smiling when you think about how the night ended, and your embarrassment is subsided a little. Before you can start looking again, you get a text. You grab your phone, seeing that it’s Sero, and you panic a little when he tells you that he’ll be over in about twenty minutes.

You dash to the bathroom, brush your teeth, get in the shower and fix your hair, and put on some clean clothes. Right as you finish putting lotion on, he texts you that he’s here. You take a deep breath, to calm both the nerves and the nausea, and you head downstairs.

When you walk outside, he’s standing there with food in his hand, and you sigh at the sight of it. You hug him when you get to him, and he hands you the food as he leans down to kiss you softly. “You sleep well?” he asks, and you nod, looking in the bag to see what he got you.

He follows you to your dorm, and you’re glad that you cleaned all of your clothes before leaving last night. He sits with you on your bed as you eat, and you nearly moan when you finally start eating, totally forgetting to last night since you were so tired.

“Is your head hurting?” Sero asks, and you nod, balling the bag up once you’re done eating.

“I haven’t had time to find my pain medicine,” you tell him, and he pulls out a bottle from his pocket.

“I brought it just in case.” You smile, grabbing it from him and taking the medicine. Once you swallow the pills, you throw your trash away before finding your spot next to him on your bed. You don’t know if you should talk about what happened last night or what the events could mean, but Sero starts talking as you think. “So, what do you remember from last night?”

“Everything,” you admit honestly, biting your lip as you once again think about how you acted last night. “Sorry about how I acted. I don’t know what came over me,” you apologize, and he chuckles softly, opening his body toward you.

“Don’t apologize,” he starts, “it was nice to see that shy side of you disappear.” You laugh a bit, putting your face in your hands anyway, figuring it’s going to take a while for you to finally get over your embarrassment. “But, you’re also really cute when you’re shy,” he whispers, pulling your hands from your face.

“Do you really like me?” you find yourself asking, ignoring his previous words even though your face is about to catch on fire.

“Yeah, I do,” he states. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.” He’s so close to you, and you want to kiss him again, but now that the alcohol isn’t in your veins anymore, you don’t know if you can bring yourself to do it. “What are you gonna do about that?” he questions, and for a brief second, you wonder what he’s talking about, but then it dawns on you.

You carefully lean forward, softly planting your lips on his. You feel the same way you felt last night, those feelings are even stronger now that you know your feelings are reciprocated. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, deepening the kiss just a little before he smiles. “Your roommate coming back?”

“She moved out,” you answer quickly and his smile widens.

“Good.” He kisses you again, shifting your body so that you can fully lay down on the bed, and you revel in the feeling of his weight on top of you. He laces his fingers with yours before moving them above your head as he gently lets his tongue touch your lips. You easily let him in, finding yourself moaning again as his tongue swirls with yours.

Your heart is racing as your body heats up, feeling overwhelmed already from just kissing him. You slide your hands out of his so that you can wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to feel more of him on you. His fingers run under your shirt now that they’re free, and a deep shudder runs through your body when his fingertips ghost over your skin.

He pulls away, kissing under your chin and down your neck, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. Your stomach caves in a little when he runs his big hands over it, and you want him to do more, but he doesn’t, keeping his lips on your skin.

“Hanta,” you whisper.

He lifts his head up to look at you, smiling at the look on your face, but his hands don’t stop moving. “What’s up?” You don’t know if you’ll be able to voice out loud what you want, biting your lip a little as you look off to the side. He uses one of his hands to guide your eyes back to his, and your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Talk to me, baby. What d’ya want?”

“More,” you mumble after a while, and he raises a playful eyebrow at you. You don’t think he heard you at first since he doesn’t respond right away, but he speaks before you can think to say anything again.

“More what?” he presses, and you’re pretty sure he knows what you mean, but he makes no move to prove that. “I’m no mind reader, sweetheart,” he muses, and you pout a little, trying to get the courage to tell him what you want.

“I want you to touch me,” you try, and his fingers push against your skin lightly.

“I’m already doin’ that.” Your frown deepens, and you want to wipe that grin off his face.

You huff softly. “I want you to touch me more,” you eventually say, and you hope he gives in because you don’t know if you can say anymore, your face feeling like it’s about to be on fire.

“More how?” he questions softly, and he moves his hands up your torso slowly, his fingers reaching under your bra. You nearly jump when his fingers brush over the underside of your boob, and you slightly push your chest up into his touch.

He sits up suddenly, and you fight the urge to whine at the loss of heat as he pushes your shirt up lazily. It’s like he’s moving in slow motion, starting at your stomach again before running his fingers up and over your bra. “You want me to touch you more here?” he asks, putting a little bit of pressure on the fabric where your nipple is, and you jump at the sudden stimulation, nodding your head as you stay silent.

He uses both of his hands to run over your nipples, but the barrier between your skin and his fingers makes you even more frustrated. “Hanta,” you huff.

“What? You told me to.”

“You’re not touching me,” you argue softly. “You can take it off,” you manage, and you almost stumble over your words, surprised that you can even get them out.

“Can I now?” he teases, but he moves his hands under you to unhook your bra, and he helps you take your shirt off before sliding the straps off your arms and letting it fall to the floor. He’s just staring at you, and you can’t help but squirm as his silence goes on.

“What?” you whisper, moving your arms to try and hide, but he quickly catches them, moving back down to the bed.

“You’re so beautiful, that’s what,” he eventually says, and you would cover your face if you could.

“Oh,” you say timidly.

“I can touch you, right?” he asks, and you nod quickly, feeling like he’s been teasing you this whole time. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes, Hanta.” His hands are soft against your skin when he touches you again, gently massaging your chest before his fingers run over the hardened peaks, and you jump against your will, moaning softly.

“You’re so sensitive,” he whispers, applying a bit more pressure before he lets his head fall to your chest. You can’t help but moan again when you feel his tongue swirl around one, continuing the stimulate the other one by rolling it between his fingers.

You start to squirm at the sudden pleasure, never experiencing this feeling before, and it almost feels overwhelming. You feel your breath getting caught in your chest when he switches, kissing your skin in between as he goes. Your fingers slide into his hair like you’re trying to find an outlet to try and release how good you’re feeling.

Sero can only smile against you as he feels you moving under him, lifting his head up as he lets the sounds you’re making fill his ears. When he makes eye contact with you, you look away, fighting the urge to cover your eyes. He puts his mouth on you again while his other hand trails down your body, and he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts.

The movement has you jolting a bit, and he lifts his head up to look at you again. “Is this okay?” he whispers, and when you hesitate to answer, he’s sitting up a bit, moving until he’s hovering over you. He laces his fingers with yours before he kisses you softly.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. We can go as fast or as slow as you want,” he reassures.

“I’m just nervous,” you mumble.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he reassures. “But just say the word right now, and we’ll stop, and we can do something else.”

“We can keep going,” you start. “And you can take them off.”

“You sure?” You nod quickly, and he doesn’t push you to speak, kissing you again instead. You feel his hands ghost down your sides, and when he gets to your shorts, you tense up against your will. “Relax, baby,” he whispers against your lips, and he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. “Can you breathe for me?”

He takes a deep breath in that you copy, following him when he breathes back out. You’re not as tense as you were before, but he can still feel it. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, pretty girl. We don’t have to rush anything, we got all the time in the world.”

“What if I don’t like it?” you find yourself asking. You don’t think that’s really going to be the case, but there’s something that’s stopping you, and you’re trying to figure out why.

“Then I’ll stop, and we can do something else,” he repeats, and you know that you don’t want to stop. You take another deep breath, allowing yourself to fully relax. “I’m not gonna do anything that’s gonna hurt you or anything you don’t want.”

You hold his gaze for a bit before you give him a small nod. “...okay.”

“So, what do you wanna do?”

“I wanna keep going,” you answer softly. “I’m sure, I’m just in my head a little,” you admit.

“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any time, okay?” he tells you again, and he smiles at you when you nod. You lift your head up just a bit, and you don’t need to say anything, Sero already leaning down to meet your lips. You sigh softly into the kiss when you feel his hands at your chest again, letting the pleasurable feeling keep your body relaxed.

Now that you’re feeling a bit better, you’re eager for Sero to touch you more, moving your hips just a little in hopes that he gets the hint. You don’t know if it works, but you feel one of his hands move down until it hits your shorts. He waits a little bit for any shift in your body language, and when he doesn’t feel anything that raises concern, he grabs the waistband of your shorts.

You lift your legs up to help him take off your shorts, and he lets them fall out of his hands as his eyes land on you again. He’s just staring at you, and you can’t close your legs because his hands are on your legs, keeping them open.

“W-Why are you staring at me?” you ask, gripping the sheets in your hand by your sides.

“Cause you’re so pretty, baby. Why else would I?” he answers, but he doesn’t look you in the eyes when he does. “All of you is so pretty,” he whispers, and he shifts so that his face is closer to your pussy. “Can I touch you?”

You tense again just a little, but this time in anticipation, finding yourself taking another deep breath. “Yes.” You’re nearly breathless, and you don’t even know why, and he rubs over your legs, gasping a little when they go towards the crease where your thighs meet your hips.

“Just relax, baby. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.” He lays down so that his chest is fully on the bed, and he continues to rub over your skin while he kisses down your thighs. He grabs your legs so that they sit on his shoulders, and you watch as he leans in closer to you, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath in, the action making your face flame. “God, you smell so good,” he mumbles against your skin, his nose in your bush, and you don’t even know if you’d be capable of saying anything due to how flustered you are.

You jump when he suddenly licks at your clit, your surprise only making you gasp. He does it again, and this time you moan, feeling his hands tighten around your thighs when you start moving. Once he starts, he doesn’t stop, his tongue never leaving you, and you try to bite your lip to conceal the noises you’re making, hearing how loud you’re getting.

When he pulls away, you think he’s giving you a break, but not even seconds after his tongue leaves you, he rubs his thumb over your clit. Your toes curl, feeling your body move into the pleasure at the same time it’s trying to move away from it. He rubs his fingers through your folds as he continues to circle at your clit, and your hands are starting to hurt by how tight you're gripping your sheets.

“You okay with me touching you more?” he asks, and you nod quickly, more caught up in your enjoyment than his words. You jolt when you feel his finger prod at your hole, and your body tenses up again without a second thought. “Just relax. I got you,” he reassures, rubbing over your thigh again.

As he pushes his finger inside of you, he keeps his eyes on you, but you let your head fall back, feeling your brain being split between focusing on relaxing and the new feeling of your walls being stretched. “You okay?”

You can only let out a breathy answer, giving him enough to let him know that he can keep going. You can’t really tell how wet you are, but the fact that you can hear his finger sliding in and out of you is enough to tell you. The feeling of you being stimulated from the inside feels foreign and a little weird, but it’s outweighed by how good it feels.

Sero puts his mouth back on your clit as he slides in another finger, and you wince a little at the burn you feel from the stretch, but it doesn’t last long because he curls his fingers, pressing firm on your walls. You let out a surprised yelp that delves into a moan, a bit embarrassed that you made the noise, and you cover your face as the squelching gets louder.

You can hear Hanta moving, feeling his finger rubbing at your clit again as he starts to speed up his fingers inside of you. Your moans become uncontrollable when it starts to feel like he’s reaching into the deepest part of you, and your arm slides over your mouth. He’s quick to pull your arm away, and he guides your face to his with his fingers on your chin.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he whispers, and it takes you a moment, but you eventually do, even if your eyes want to close because of how good he’s making you feel. “Why you hiding from me?”

“B-Because,” you try, softly grabbing onto his wrist when you feel your pleasure starting to mount. “I sound weird,” you rush out, your mouth falling open as your eyes slip closed.

“Weird?” Sero muses, a sly grin appearing on his face. “You sound like music to my ears.” He leans down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he swallows every sound you’re making. He slides one of his legs to the side, pushing it into yours when your legs start moving a bit too much for his liking.

You pull away when it seems like he’s going even deeper inside of you, and that’s when you start to feel it. You can’t really explain it, but in the back of your head, it kind of worries you, and your grip on Sero’s wrist tightens. “H-Hanta, w-wait,” you moan even though he doesn’t stop, but you don’t think you want him to. “I f-feel weird.”

“Is that a good weird or bad weird?” he questions playfully.

“I d-don’t k-know,” you whine, feeling tears at your lash line, and you throw your head back onto your pillows, words the last thing you want to try and form.

“It’s okay, baby. Just let it happen,” he coaxes softly, and you can barely hear him, only really hearing your heartbeat in your ears. It feels like something’s building up right below your tummy, and this is something you’ve never felt before. It’s honestly starting to scare you, but focusing on Hanta’s words helps that feeling diminish.

You finally start to figure out what it feels like, but you don’t think you can warn him in time. “Hanta!” That’s the last thing you can get out, feeling whatever was building up snap quickly. Your back arches off the bed, your moans so loud, you’re pretty confident that your neighbors could hear you, but right now, you don’t give a fuck.

Your legs tremble violently, but Sero keeps moving his fingers, moving with you so that he can do so. You quickly push at his hand as you roll onto your side, feeling like you’re completely overwhelmed by the sensitivity. He finally gives you some peace, sliding his fingers out of you, and you’re breathing like you just ran a marathon.

You roll back onto your back, letting your legs stay open since your core is so sensitive, and when you look down, you see that not only your sheets are soaked, but so is Hanta. You quickly remember that feeling you had right before you came, and embarrassment swallows you whole. Your face falls, and you immediately put your hands over your face, but you can’t roll over and hide like you want to because Hanta’s in between your legs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you hear him ask, but all you can do is shake your head, wanting a giant hole to swallow you up right now. “Are you okay?”

You jump when you feel his hand on your thigh. “I can’t believe I just did that,” you whisper, and it’s loud enough that Hanta can hear it.

“Did what? Squirt?” You freeze a bit before you slowly let your hands fall from your face.

“What?” He carefully sits you up by pulling you by your arm before he kisses you softly, having a hard time concealing his chuckle.

“You squirted, sweetheart. You didn’t pee on me,” he explains, and he really can’t hide his laugh. “It’s totally natural.”

“O-Okay,” you murmur, and he kisses you again, deepening it a bit.

“And it was really hot,” he whispers against your lips, and you feel your face heat up once again. “Wanna see if I can make you do it again.” You gasp softly at his words, and you feel his hands run up and down your thighs. “Not right now, of course,” he adds. “Did you feel good?”

You nod, feeling a quick wave of arousal run through you at how good it was. You’ve never cum like that before, and you don’t think you can ever go back. “What about you?” you ask after a while, glancing down at his shorts, and your eyes widen a bit when they land on the very obvious bulge in between his legs.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he says, and you frown a little bit at that.

“But I want you to feel good too,” you respond and he groans softly.

“Yeah?” You nod again, feeling shy at what you might have to do, but then he’s pushing you down softly. “Then just lay there for me, okay?” You move back until you’re fully laying down on the bed, and you watch as he sits up on his knees before shoving his shorts down his body. Your mouth falls open a bit when your eyes finally land on him, and you’re having a hard time looking away. “You like?” he teases, and you don’t have to hide your nod.

His fingers are still wet from your release, but he slides them into his mouth anyway, moaning softly when your taste floods his tastebuds. He glances at you, smiling when he sees that you’re watching him, and he breathes out of his nose when he wraps his hand around his dick.

You sit up on your elbows before you fully sit up, your face inches away from his shaft, and you really get a good look at it. You’ve seen your fair share of dicks unfortunately at the hands of unsolicited dick pics, but this is the first one you’ve seen in person. And you don’t know if it’s because you’re really attracted to him, but it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

He’s so long, the tip being a pretty pink, and your eyes follow the veins that go from the tip all the way down to his balls. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he questions, and you tear your eyes away to look at him.

“I wanna touch you,” you mumble, and his movements falter for a split second at your words. He grabs your hand, and you feel yourself clench around nothing when he slides your fingers into his mouth. You watch as he guides your hand, and you quietly hum at how hot it feels. You wrap your hand around him, just wanting to feel him in your hand, and he bites back a moan.

You’re definitely out of your element here, but you move your hand anyway, trying to copy what he was doing moments before. “Am I doing okay?” you ask, looking up at him, looking at him so eagerly yet completely innocently.

“Jesus,” he breathes, feeling like he might bust in two seconds. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing great,” he answers with a quick nod. “You can go a little bit faster.” You do what he says, and he balls his hand into a fist, letting out a soft groan. Honestly, this is probably the best handjob he’s ever gotten. It doesn’t (or does) help that you’re looking at him like that, and he can feel himself twitch in your hand.

You tighten your grip just a little whether you meant to or not, and he lets his head fall back on his shoulders as he swears. He decides he definitely wants to look at you when he cums, and he grabs your hand to stop you even though he absolutely does not want you to. “Was that good?”

“Yeah, but I just want you to lay there and look pretty for me,” he says, and you lay back down, spreading your legs a little, and he groans at the image under him. He’s quick to put his hand back on him, pulling the bottom of his shirt up into his mouth. His pace is pretty quick since he’s so close, and he keeps his eyes on you, seeing how you’re watching the tip of his dick disappear under his hand on the downstroke.

“Fuck,” he moans, and his breath catches as he watches your hands migrate toward your chest. His hips buck as he watches you roll your fingers over your nipples, and you moan softly at the feeling. “Shit, baby, keep touching yourself for me.”

You move one of your hands down your body, your fingers slowly inching towards your clit, and he waits in anticipation, his dick twitching again when you finally start rubbing that bundle of nerves, moaning a little bit louder as your toes curl. “M still sensitive,” you admit, and he huffs out a laugh.

“I know, angel, but you look so good.” He swears again, his tip leaking even more. “God, the things I wanna do to you.” He starts to curl in on himself when he feels that knot building up in the base of his spine, his hips bucking into his hand. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He doesn’t stop, his breath catching in his chest before he finally falls over that crest. He fucks himself through his orgasm as he spills on the sheets and over your legs.

He keeps going until his nerves tingle from the overstimulation, and he lets his head fall back on his shoulders as he catches his breath. “Holy shit,” he sighs, quickly lifting his head and leaning down with his body hovering over you. He kisses you, lacing his clean fingers with yours and sliding his tongue in your mouth. He rests his head against yours after he pulls away, and he can’t wipe the smile off of his face.

“Did you feel good?” you ask softly, and he chuckles quietly, squeezing your hands.

“Yeah, that was amazing.” You give him a shy smile, and he can’t help but kiss you again. He gets up shortly after to clean you and himself up, and he tells you to hop in the shower while he changes your sheets. When you get out, he’s already changed clothes, and he pulls you into your bed. You laugh but go with him anyway, squeezing into your tiny bed.

He moves you to lay on top of him, and you quickly find yourself drifting off. He’s rubbing over your back, and you feel him kiss the top of your head, his breathing lulling you to sleep.

You really don’t know what to call your relationship with Sero. You never got around to asking him, and now it’s been a week since the events that went down in your dorm. You know that he feels the same way about you, but you don’t know if that means that he actually wants to date you. Honestly, the thought of just being friends with benefits with Sero leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

Besides your schoolwork, that sinking feeling is what clouds your thoughts nearly every day. You’re scared to ask him because you’re afraid of hearing something that you don’t want to hear. You still hang out with him, but you haven’t spent any time alone with him since you’re usually with your friends. He always sits next to you, keeping his arm around you, but that’s as far as it goes. You don’t know if your friends know anything, but the more you spend time around Sero, the more conflicted you feel.

You’re in the library tonight, trying to make up for lost time since you didn’t really get a lot of studying today, but you can’t focus. You try everything; playing music, playing one of your favorite shows, even going so far as to not play anything, but nothing works. You sigh heavily as you put your elbows on the table, rubbing over your head.

“Looks like somebody’s studying too hard,” you hear, and you turn your head to see Hanta standing behind you. Your heart skips and sinks all at the same time, but you smile at him anyway, hoping you're masking your inner turmoil.

“I was trying to make up for not studying earlier, but it’s not really working,” you say, looking back at your work. You sigh again right before you feel his hands on your shoulders, and you feel yourself relax as he massages them a little.

“Come on, let’s get you outta here,” he whispers, and you feel yourself hesitate, talking to try and buy yourself some more time.

“Where are we going?” you ask, turning to look at him when his hands slide off your shoulders.

“We could go back to my place,” he offers, and your face warms almost instantly.

“I’m not really in the mood for…” you start, and he smiles at you, leaning down so that his face is in front of yours.

“Mood for what?” he teases, and you can’t bring yourself to say it in the middle of the library but he keeps talking. “Don’t worry, baby. I wasn’t thinking of anything else. If you go back to your dorm, you’ll just try and study until your brain hurts.”

He has a point, and you sigh internally that he doesn’t want to do any of what you did last week. You think about it, but that part of you that likes him so much ultimately makes the decision for you. “Okay,” you respond, and you start packing your stuff up.

He grabs your hand after you stand and put on your backpack, and you both walk out of the library. You’re quiet as you walk to his car, suddenly surrounded by a tornado of thoughts. He doesn’t call you on it, even when you’re quiet all the way to his house.

“Lemme give you a tour,” he says when he opens the door to his house. You both take your shoes off at the door when you close it, and you follow him into the house. “You already know the kitchen and the living room,” he starts, and he gestures to the sliding doors further into the house. “Backyard.”

He shows you the bathroom downstairs before you follow him upstairs. There’s another bathroom, his room, and he stops in front of another door when you walk further into the hallway. “And this is my art room.” He opens the door, gesturing for you to go first. The first thing that fills your nose is the strong smell of paint, and you look around when he turns the light on.

There are painting all over the room, some of them hanging on the walls, and there are papers on the floor in a couple of corners of the room. The desk he has is covered with stacks of sketchbooks, and you can see where he keeps all of his supplies in the bookcase that lines one of the walls. “This is really nice,” you comment, stopping in the middle of the room where one of his easels is.

You walk over to one of the paintings that you can see, carefully running your fingers over it. “This is so beautiful,” you whisper, and you freeze for a bit when you feel Sero wrap his arms around you.

“You can have it if you want,” he says, and you look at him over your shoulder.

“Really?”

“Of course. You inspired it after all.” You look over it again, seeing the flowers that he picked from the bush that one day all over the painting. They’re all different sizes, and you squint, leaning your head forward as you really look at it.

“Is that…me?”

“I was wondering how long it was gonna take you,” he chuckles, and you can definitely start to see it now. Even though the flowers cover the painting, the negative space around them creates an image of you. “Painted it that night,” he adds.

“What are you gonna call it?” you ask, trying your best to keep your negative thoughts at bay.

“I dunno yet, even though there are a million words I could use to describe how beautiful you are.” It takes absolutely no time for your face to go warm, glancing at the painting before you look down at the floor, having a hard time concealing your smile.

But it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to derail. He could honestly be saying all of these things just to say it. There could be no meaning behind them, only an intention to keep you here. And it’s working.

Your smile falls, and Sero spins you around in his arms before he kisses you softly. “C’mon, there’s one more place I wanna show you.”

He takes your hand, and you follow anyway even though you want to leave and crawl in your bed. He turns the light off, walking you further down the hallway. You can see a door, the windows covered with some curtains, but you don’t say anything. Sero stops at the door, pulling you so that you’re now in front of him.

“Open it,” he urges softly.

You open it, stepping through the door slowly as you realize that you’re on a small balcony. But it’s decorated with string lights, and there’s a blanket in the middle. Your mouth falls open softly as you take it in, seeing that there are a couple of baskets on the blanket.

“What is all this?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer, instead ushering you to sit down. He sits down next to you, pulling out all of the food he packed in the baskets, and you truly don’t have any words.

When he’s done, he hands you a plate, and you silently fill it, wondering what’s going through his head. He does the same, but he sets it down quickly after, grabbing your attention by gently wrapping his fingers around your leg. He scoots closer to you, moving your legs so that they’re in between his.

“You know you’re really good at wearing your thoughts on your face,” he tells you softly, and you chew on your lip as pick at the edge of your plate.

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” you say, forcing a chuckle, and he takes your chin in his fingers so that you’re looking at him again.

“Not for me because then I know when something’s wrong.” He keeps talking after you don’t respond. “I should’ve made this clear from the beginning, but I don’t want just a sexual relationship with you. I feel a lot for you.”

You take in his words, but that insecurity is still eating at you. “Isn’t that too fast?”

He smiles softly. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You answer in your head almost immediately. Of course, you do. It’s what happened with your parents. They met each other in college and have been inseparable since.

You nod shortly after he asks you. “Then I wouldn’t consider this too fast. At least not on my end.” He grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “But if this is too fast for you then that’s okay.”

You shake your head, but you don’t say anything right away. “It just feels weird, I guess. I dunno how to describe it,” you eventually say even though you know it probably doesn’t explain anything. “I’ve never done anything like this before or really liked someone. I guess I’m just protecting myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Sero responds. “But you don’t have to feel bad about stuff like that. There’s a first time for everything. And we can go as slow or as fast as you want.” You give him a small smile, your mind finally letting his words go to heart.

If Sero just wanted to keep this relationship casual, you probably would’ve gone with it until you weren’t satisfied anymore. But at the same time, the thought of only being someone who only warms his bed made you feel horrible. Maybe it was love at first sight, and you just didn’t know it yet. Hearing how he actually feels about you made your heart race once it finally hit you.

“I’m just relieved that you feel that way,” you admit. “I don’t know if I would be okay with anything else.”

“You coulda just talked to me about it, baby.”

“I know, but I was afraid of your answer. I was worried you were gonna say something that I wasn’t gonna be happy with.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell you again,” he starts, setting your plate aside and grabbing both of your hands before he kisses over your skin. “I really like you, and I want you to be mine. If you’ll have me.” You can’t help but smile from ear to ear, leaning forward to kiss him, and he meets you halfway.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask someone on a date before you bring them to one?” you ask playfully when you pull away.

“Let’s say I was just being optimistic,” he jests, and you laugh softly before you start eating.

The balcony faces the city, and with the sun going down, you can see how bright it is even from far away. You and Sero talk about anything and everything until you feel full, wondering how long it’s been since you’ve even eaten anything today.

When you’re done, Sero leans back against the house, pulling you with him so you can sit in between his legs. You lean back against him, and he wraps his arms around you, letting them rest on your lap.

You let your head fall back on him as you sigh, letting everything you were worried about wash over you. It seems a bit silly that you were worried about anything in the first place, but you don’t put too much blame on yourself. You don’t know how long you sit outside just listening to the sounds of the city, but eventually, you feel yourself getting tired.

When Sero offers for you to just stay at his place for the night, you don’t protest since it’s the weekend. He cleans up everything on the balcony while you get ready in the bathroom, and he gives you a shirt to sleep in when he gets done.

You feel like you could fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillows. Sero turns off the lights after he closes the door, sliding into the bed next to you. He wraps his arm around you, and a smile pulls at your face when you feel him kiss your forehead.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Night, Hanta.”

You didn’t really have any expectations going into your relationship with Hanta mostly because you had never dated someone before. You felt like there were obvious things you would want out of a relationship, but when it came to dating specifically, you didn’t really know what you were expecting.

You were honestly a little worried that Hanta would feel a certain type of way because of that fact, but you both talked everything out, and it definitely helped your doubts. It was a little awkward for you to talk about everything, but once it was all out in the open, you were glad you had the conversation in the first place.

Even without dating in the past, you knew that you weren’t that big on PDA, and Sero was completely okay with that. You didn’t mind holding hands with him or whenever he would wrap his arm around you when you were sitting together, but you did mind kissing him whenever you had to part ways. It’s just not something you’re comfortable with, and Hanta never pushes you to do so which always makes you feel better. But if he feels like there are little to no people in the near vicinity, he’ll sneak a quick one before walking off to his next class.

Being with Sero makes you ridiculously happy, to the point where you find yourself smiling almost all the time until your face hurts. Even your friends that you had before you met Mina called you out on it. You honestly hadn’t caught up with them in a while since you don’t really share any of the same classes, and they were practically drowning you with questions once you spilled that you’re dating someone now.

You didn’t really make a big deal about telling everyone once you started dating, and you already had a feeling that your friend group knew anyway, so you never got around to mentioning it to anyone else. Sometimes, in the back of your head, you still have a little bit of doubt, like all of this isn’t real, but whenever you spend time with Hanta, that voice becomes minute.

You’re already nearing the halfway point of the semester which means your birthday’s coming up soon. It always seems to come up out of nowhere especially when you’re surrounded by a bunch of schoolwork along with midterms. You don’t really like to announce when your birthday is coming up, sometimes never really caring for the attention it sometimes brings.

“So, what are your birthday plans?” Hanta asks, and you shrug as you type up the essay you have to write, finishing your thought before you turn your attention to Hanta.

You’ve been spending a lot more time at Hanta’s place, only staying at your dorm if your schedules don’t add up well. You’d say you’ve practically moved into his house, most of your stuff cluttering nearly every room. Sero surely doesn’t mind you staying and spending the day and night with him since that means he just gets to see you more.

“I wasn’t really planning anything, honestly,” you answer, sliding away from Hanta’s desk before spinning around in the chair. He’s sitting on the bed with a sketchbook, the pencil resting behind his ear.

“Really? But it’s your birthday.” You chuckle softly, standing up and walking over to the bed. You decide that you’ve done enough work for now, and a break is much deserved. You sit down, copying the position he’s in as you rest your back against the headboard.

“Well, parties always seem to fall apart whenever I try to plan them, and my birthday falls on a weekday this year anyway,” you say. “Usually the only thing I try to worry about is not crying on my birthday since it happens almost every year,” you add with a laugh, but there’s nothing that Sero finds funny about that.

He frowns a bit before he pulls you towards him, and you don’t know what he’s trying to do at first until he tugs at your thigh softly. You shake your head but move anyway, straddling him, and he pulls you into a hug before you can barely settle down. “You shouldn’t be crying on your birthday, angel,” he whispers into your hair, and you huff before you pull back to look at him.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s not like I can control what happens on my birthday.”

“But it’s your birthday,” he emphasizes, and you smile even though you can feel the bad memories of past birthdays sneaking up into your mind.

“So? To everyone else, it’s just another day.” He doesn’t seem too happy with your answer, but he doesn’t question you about the subject anymore. He moves his hands to your face, pulling you down so that he can kiss you softly.

“I promise that you won’t cry anymore on your birthday as long as I’m here,” he declares, and it takes you by surprise for a split second. You can feel tears stinging your eyes, trying to come out, but you fight them for as long as you can.

“That’s a big promise,” you tease, but you can’t stop the tears no matter how hard you try, and you drop the act almost immediately. Sero wipes them away gently, and you rest your forehead against his. “Thank you, Hanta.”

“Of course, baby.”

You always try to play off how much that fact bothered you, but hearing what Hanta said just made you realize how many times you’ve actually cried. Some people might call you overdramatic, but you’ve always hated crying on your birthday, feeling like you shouldn’t be. Of course, you can’t control life, but the fact that it still happened bothers you.

But being here with Hanta right now tells you that his promise isn’t empty.

You still didn’t make any plans for your birthday because your birthday was on the busiest day of your week, and with all the work you had, you wanted nothing more than to just be with Hanta and in bed once the weekend hit.

Honestly, the morning of your birthday started off great because the professor of your first class of the day canceled class the day before, so you didn’t have to wake up stupidly early. It was also nice because you woke up and Hanta was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes followed by a soft happy birthday.

He cooks you breakfast and you spend the morning with him until you have to finish the rest of your day on campus. When you had to go, you found yourself feeling more upset that you had to leave Hanta, but you knew that you’d see him once you both were done for the day. He drops you off, kissing you deeply before you get out of the car.

You thank him softly as you close the car door, giving him one last smile before you start walking to your class. You check your phone on the way, seeing that you’ve gotten messages from your friends and family, and you assume that Sero must’ve told his friends because the group chat you were added to is full of happy birthday texts.

You smile as you read them, sending a reply once you get into the lecture hall. You don’t lose your smile the entire time you’re sitting in class or the entire day for that matter. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been so happy on your birthday, and you wonder if anything could top it. You assume because you’re so happy is why the day goes by so fast; your lab being one of the quickest you and your partner have ever done.

You have to hold back from skipping out of the building, breathing in deeply before you start to walk to where you’re meeting Hanta. You try to hold it in, but once his car is in sight, you’re close to running over to it.

“I’m guessing someone had a good day,” he comments when you get in, and you lean over the console to kiss him.

“It went surprisingly well. I got out of lab so early today.” He grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before he drives off, resting your hands on the console.

“I’m glad to hear that. You sure you don’t wanna do anything today? You have the time,” he asks, and you shake your head earnestly.

“No. I still have some work I need to finish up, and I wanna get it done so I don’t have to do anything this weekend,” you answer. “Also, I like spending time with you anyway.”

He smiles at that, kissing the back of your hand gently. When you get back to his house, you decide that you want to shower before you get into your work, wanting to decompress before you start working your brain.

When you’re done and dressed, it doesn’t look like Hanta’s been in his room yet, and you hear your stomach rumbling. Eating hadn’t even crossed your mind today mostly because your body never told you that you were hungry and because the day when by so fast. You walk downstairs to try and find him so that you can ask him if he’s hungry too.

When you walk into the kitchen, you see that Hanta’s already got food on the table and before you can get his attention, you see that it’s from your favorite place. You walk up to him, wrapping your arms around him, and he jumps before you feel him relax against you. “You gave me a heart attack,” he laughs, and you smile as you let your head fall against his back.

“Sorry,” you mumble, and you loosen your grip a bit so that he can turn around. “Thank you for today, Hanta.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” he tells you softly, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “No tears today, right?” You smile widely as you shake your head. “Good,” he whispers. “You hungry?” You nod, staying quiet, and he pulls you to the table so that you can eat.

The food seems to taste even better than it usually does, and that only seems to boost the amount of serotonin that’s running through your body. You both eat in comfortable silence, Hanta eventually breaking it when you ask him how his day went. You find yourself looking at him the entire time he talks, and this might be the first time that you’re thinking about how much you actually like him.

He’s been nothing but supportive since you met him; making sure you’re taking breaks when you’re studying, making sure you’re not studying too hard, and helping you out when you need it even though he never really understands what you’re doing. And now doing all this for your birthday. You wouldn’t say that your heart starts racing, but you definitely feel something run through you that feels amazing.

“I got one more thing for you,” he tells you, breaking you out of your thoughts. “But you have to close your eyes.” You playfully frown at him, but you do it anyway, hearing him shuffling around, the sound of plates being moved and stuff being opened filling your ears. You honestly have no idea what he’s doing, and then you hear a plate being set down in front of you. “You can open them.”

You slowly peel your eyes open, gasping softly when you see a cupcake with a candle on it. It’s nowhere near a birthday cake, but there’s not a single part of you that cares. Hanta sits down next to you again, scooting his chair closer to you before softly singing happy birthday. You’re smiling so big that your face is hurting, and he kisses you once he finishes singing.

“Make a wish, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips. You pull away, closing your eyes for a few seconds before you open them and turn to blow out the candle. “What’d you wish for?”

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” you say, laughing softly.

You wished that you could be this happy for the rest of your life, and you’re pretty sure that whether you tell Hanta or not, this feeling will never leave.

It’s the weekend already and you still feel like you’re on top of the world. Since you got a lot of work done, you’re not doing anything this weekend, and you spend most of your Saturday in bed with Hanta. You had absolutely no plans, only getting out of bed to eat and then throwing yourself under the covers right after.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go out today?” Hanta asks you softly, and you look up from your phone, locking it before you smile at him.

“I’m sure. I just wanna spend today doing nothing.” You move closer so you can kiss him, keeping it a little longer before you pull away, going back in to give him another one. "Doing nothing with you, of course," you whisper, shuddering a bit when you feel his fingers rubbing at your hip.

"Really?" he hums quietly, smiling a little as his hand finds its way under your shirt. His finger picks at the side of your underwear, and your toes curl at the motion. He lets his hand drift down your thigh as you nod, and a soft gasp leaves when his hand fits its way in between your legs.

"Well, what if I told you I had something planned today?" he says as his fingers ghost over your folds.

"L-Like what?" you manage, your answer delayed when he pulls your underwear out of his way. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly slides his leg in between yours so that he can keep touching you.

"Try and guess, baby," he teases as his finger rests at your entrance. You sort of hear what he says, but you're not totally focused on it, your attention mostly on his fingers.

"I dunno," you mumble, your eyes closing as he slowly slides into you. He shifts, carefully maneuvering you onto your back as he speeds his fingers up, and you bite your lip to try and conceal your moans.

You've done stuff with Hanta since that day in your dorm, but you haven't slept together yet. That's not really a big deal for you, but you can't help but think about how it would feel. If he's making you feel this good just from his fingers then it'll probably be tenfold when he finally fucks you.

Even though you've been in this position before, you're still so shy about it, and that does more to Sero than he'd like to admit. All it takes is a circle of his fingers, and you're putty in his hands as you hide your face with whatever you can.

You try to put your arm over your face, but he puts a stop to that before you can even get to your face like he knew it was coming. You feel tears leaking out of your eyes when they screw shut as that familiar feeling in your stomach starts to form.

He carefully pulls your lip from between your teeth, allowing every sound you make to be fully audible to his ears. "H-Hanta, 'm–" Your breathing starts to become airy as your hand grabs onto his wrist.

"Yeah, angel? You gonna cum?" he asks, waiting for your quick nod before he looks down at where his hand is disappearing inside of you. He can hear what his fingers are doing, the digits glistening every time he slides them out of you.

You start to move away from him slightly as the pleasure starts to become overwhelming, but Sero follows your every move. "C'mon, sweetheart, wanna see if I can make you squirt again."

You can't really hear what he's saying, your heart racing so fast you can hear it in your ears. You feel yourself gasp before your orgasm hits you like a truck, feeling like time stops before your legs start to shake as that knot snaps.

"Fuck, there it is," Hanta groans as you coat his wrist in your release. You're squeezing his fingers so tight that you nearly push him out, but he pushes through to let it run its course. "Such a good girl for me, angel."

You push at his wrist, whining his name until he finally slows down, the squelching you hear when he slides his fingers out is enough to make your already warm face even hotter.

Your chest is heaving as Hanta's arm drips with your slick, and he slides his fingers into his mouth, groaning loudly as the taste of you fills his mouth. Your arms are resting over your face as you catch your breath, shivering when you feel it running down your legs.

"You made such a mess, baby," Sero whispers, and you can hear the smile he's wearing on his face, but you feel your face grow warm anyway, barely peeling your arms away.

"Sorry," you mumble, and his smile widens as he pushes at your arms softly. He kisses you once he gets your arms down, letting his tongue swirl in your mouth, and the kiss alone is almost enough to get you going again.

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. I love making you do it," he says against your lips. He rubs over your body, kissing your forehead. "You okay?"

You give him a small smile as you nod, your legs quaking when you move them even the slightest bit. Your phone rings, scaring you a bit, and you feel around for it, seeing Mina's name on the screen.

"What's up?"

"I need you to go shopping with me today, I'll be there in twenty." And then she hangs up. You pull the phone away from your ear, scoffing as you put the phone down. Sero chuckles softly as you shake your head.

"That girl, I swear." It takes you a while to finally get out of bed, but when you do, you slowly make your way to the bathroom. You shower, wincing a bit at the sensitivity you're still feeling as you wash yourself.

You're dressed and ready right as Mina pulls up, and Sero gives you a kiss goodbye before you walk out of the door. "Have fun, okay?" You nod, giving him a hug before you walk out to Mina's car.

“Did I really have to tag along today?” you ask once you get in the car, and Mina rolls her eyes as she drives off.

“Of course, you did. I didn’t get to see you on your birthday.”

“Well, I did have class that day. I didn’t wanna do anything too crazy,” you say. Mina drives to the mall, saying that she needed someone with her so that she wouldn’t buy too much stuff along with wanting a second opinion on whatever she tried on.

You shook your head but went with her anyway, and you didn’t intend to buy anything of course, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look around. You walk around the store, nothing really catching your eye until your eyes land on a dress.

It’s nothing too over the top, but it could be for any occasion if you dress right. “You like it?” You jump at the sound of Mina’s voice next to you, looking over to see her arms filled with clothes.

“Yeah, it’s really cute,” you comment, running your hand over it so that you can feel the fabric.

“You should at least try it on then. Come on, I’m gonna try this stuff on too.” Once you grab the dress off the rack, she’s pulling you toward the dressing room. You wait for Mina to try on all of her stuff, and there are actually a few times when she needed a second opinion. She decides to get most of the stuff that she tried on, leaving the ones that she doesn’t want on the rack.

“Okay, your turn.” She nearly pushes you into a room, closing the door behind you. You try it on, turning around as you look at yourself in the mirror. It is really pretty, and you start to consider getting it when Mina softly knocks on the door.

You laugh as you step out, letting her see it. “Oh, my God, you look so good! You should get it!”

“You think?” you ask, looking down at yourself.

“Yes! I’ll even buy it for you.”

“Mina, you don’t have to do that.”

She rests her hands on your arms. “Just think of this as your birthday present,” she responds. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Also, there’s a sale going on, and if I spend enough money I get rewards,” she adds when you start to look unsure.

“Only if you want to,” you relent, and she smiles widely before letting you go back into the room to take the dress off.

You walk out of the store with just your dress in your hands while Mina has two bags. “So, was that all you had planned today?” You look over to see that Mina’s looking at her phone, and she looks up at you before pocketing her phone.

“I was thinking of getting some food. You hungry?” You shrug before you nod, and the both of you head over to the food court. Mina offers to get the food while you find a seat, and she brushes you off when you try to pay her back, using the birthday excuse again.

You don’t know how long you sit with her and talk about anything that comes up, continuing the conversation long after you’ve finished eating. You offer to throw her food away, and when you come back, she’s looking at her phone again. “Is everything okay?”

She looks up quickly. “Yeah, Denki’s just stressing about something that’s no big deal.” You chuckle as Mina collects her bags. You figured that she was done with what she needed, but then she proceeds to take you to almost every store that you pass by. You don’t mind it at first, but when you come out of the sixth store and she hasn’t bought anything, you start to get just a teensy bit annoyed.

“Mina, you haven’t bought anything in over an hour,” you speak up, and she looks at the time on her phone.

“Wow, time really does fly! I’m ready to go if you are.” You nod eagerly, sighing to yourself in relief. When you walk out of the mall, the sun is down which really tells you how long you’ve been out because the sun was about to set when you walked in.

Mina drives by her place to drop her stuff off, and she urges you to put the dress on. “It’s good to make sure you still like it,” she presses, and you put it back on without much of a fight, sighing when you walk back out so she can see it. “Perfect! We have one more place to go to.”

She grabs your arm, pulling you out of her house. “Mina, wait!” You didn’t even get to take the dress off, but she’s already locking her front door and pulling you to the car. You want to ask Mina what she has planned, but then she’s pulling into Sero’s driveway.

You can barely get out of the car before Mina pushes you towards the door. “Open it!” You give her a suspicious look but open the door anyway. You frown when you see how dark it is in the house especially when Mina closes the door, but before you can question in, the lights turn on.

“Surprise!!” You jump when all of your friends jump out from where they were hiding, and you can see birthday decorations plastered all over the room. You’re frozen in shock for a little bit, only moving when Mina puts a sash and crown on your head.

“What in the world?” you find yourself asking as you walk further into the house.

“Happy birthday!” Mina yells, giving you a hug.

“You did all this?”

“Nope, this was all Sero’s idea.” Mina walks away as Hanta comes up to you, and you haven’t stopped smiling since the surprise was revealed.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he tells you, leaning down to kiss you.

“You purposefully had Mina get me out of the house for this?” you laugh, and he laughs with you as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Yep. Sorry, you were out for so long though, we got started later than I wanted.”

“I thought I was never gonna leave that mall,” you sigh, and he laughs again before gently pulling you towards the party.

There aren’t a lot of people here, but it’s your closest friends and it’s more than enough. The crown and the sash are definitely overkill, but you make no move to remove them during the night. Almost everyone got you something, and even if it’s something small, you still love it regardless. Sero brings out a cake later on, and with everyone surrounding you, you feel that same feeling of happiness you were feeling earlier in the week.

Everyone cheers when you blow out the candles after they sing, and as Mina starts to cut the cake, you feel tears forming in your eyes. “What’s wrong?” Hanta whispers. He’s sitting next to you, turning your head toward him so that he can wipe your tears.

“I’m just really happy,” you say, sniffling as you smile widely. “Thank you for this, Hanta. I love it.” You lean over to kiss him softly, having a difficult time wiping the smile off your face.

“Of course, angel. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

You stay glued to Hanta’s side for the rest of the night, sharing a slice of cake with him. He never leaves your side either, and the house is filled with laughter and conversation. You wish that this moment could last forever even though you know it won’t, but for the first time in a long time, you’ve really enjoyed your birthday. And it’s all thanks to Hanta.

“What?” he asks you when he catches you looking at him.

“Nothing,” you whisper, shaking your head. You don’t give him any more than that, and he doesn’t push you, tightening his arm around you as he kisses your forehead.

The end of the semester sneaks up on you a lot faster than you like. All of a sudden, you’re stacked with last-minute exams all the while preparing for your final exams. You spend a lot of time studying with Mina since the class you share is the first final exam you both have.

You wouldn’t say you’re worried about it, but the content isn’t the easiest and the exam is cumulative which makes you a little bit uneasy. Luckily, it’s your hardest class this semester, so you have a little bit more room to allow this class to take up most of your study time.

Sero's been busy as well, trying to finish up most of his projects before classes end. He volunteered to present his work at an art show the art department is hosting, but his professor suggested creating something new instead of presenting pieces he's already done.

Of course, he had talked about this with them way before the semester was coming to a close, but he couldn't really find any inspiration, and now he had nothing to present. He has maybe one painting that he might use, but it's not his best work.

You've been taking it easy the last couple of days since you and Mina thoroughly studied out your brains, so you won't see her anymore until you're taking the exam. This means you've been with Sero more, but you notice that he's still in his art studio even though he was there before you left.

You had been going back and forth from your dorm to the library and vice versa since you were studying, and as much as you loved spending time with Sero, you wanted to keep your mind clear and focused.

When you finally get back to his house, you slowly step into the art studio, seeing Hanta standing in front of a half-painted canvas.

"Have you been in here for the past couple of days?" you ask him softly when you walk up to him. He turns to you, and you easily let him fall into you, his head falling into your neck as his hands loosely rest on your hips.

"Yeah. I don't know what to do about this art show," he mumbles.

"Well, what you have so far looks good," you comment, turning your head a little to look at what he’s already drawn

"It's not good enough for me, though."

“Maybe you should take a break,” you offer softly. “You’ve been working on this for a while. Maybe if you step back for a bit, something will strike.” You don’t know if he’s listening, but you start to move toward the door anyway.

You grab his hand once the distance between you starts to increase, but it takes a little bit of pulling on your part to get him to move. You pull him to his room, and you lay down on the bed first, pulling him onto the bed when he doesn’t move once you get comfortable.

He lays on top of you, and you turn the TV on, putting on one of your favorite shows before you set the remote aside. You run your fingers through Hanta’s hair while your other hand rubs over his back. Hanta sighs heavily but he focuses on the TV anyway, and he realizes how much he missed being with you.

He hadn’t really been paying attention to how much time had passed because he was stressed about his work. He’s glad you pulled him out of there because he’s already starting to feel at ease, his shoulders aching when he relaxes from how long they’ve been tense. He can feel his eyelids growing heavy as he tries to watch the show, but he doesn’t keep it up for long, letting them fall closed.

Hanta swears that he only closed his eyes for a second, but when he opens them again, the TV is off, and it’s dark in the room. Hanta looks around, seeing that you’re not laying in the bed with him, and he looks at the clock on his nightstand to see that it’s late at night. He rolls over, feeling like he could sleep for longer even though he just found out he slept all day.

But then his stomach grumbles loudly, and he knows there’s no way he can go back to sleep now. He yawns loudly as he sits up, taking a couple more moments to wake up a little more before he stands. He brushes his teeth to get that taste out of his mouth before he heads toward the stairs. He’s looking for you as he makes his way down to the kitchen, and he can hear music coming from downstairs along with smelling something really good.

He yawns again as he gets to the kitchen, seeing you stirring something on the stove as you sway to the music that’s playing. He waits until you set the spoon down to try and get your attention, and you jump when you feel his hands at your waist.

“You really don’t make any noise when you walk,” you breathe, and Sero chuckles softly, looking over your shoulder to see what you’re making. “I’m pretty sure you’re starving, but I didn’t wanna wake you up. You were sleeping like the dead.”

“Yeah, I can’t remember the last time I’ve gotten some sleep,” he responds. You turn around with a small frown on your face.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Hanta,” you scold lightly, pressing your finger to his forehead gently. He smiles, grabbing your hand so that he can plant a small kiss on your skin.

“Yeah, I know. I just got too caught up…but it might happen again,” he admits, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Well, you should eat. I’m almost done.” He hums as you turn around, and you feel his arms wrap around you, but he doesn’t let you go. You shake your head, but let him stay since you’re almost done cooking anyway.

You make a plate for the both of you, and you carry both as Hanta stays attached to you until you get to the table. You wonder if he’ll make you sit in his lap since he seems to be super clingy right now, but he lets you have your own seat. It must’ve been a while since he’s eaten because you’ve barely made it halfway through your plate, and he’s already done.

You made more just to be on the safe side and you’re glad you did. You offer to make him another plate once you finish up yours, handing him the plate before washing yours in the sink. You clean up the dishes you cooked with while Sero finishes eating. You sit on the counter while he washes his dish, and neither of you makes any move to start a conversation.

He dries his hands off before stepping in between your legs, and your hands slide over his shoulders. He leans down so that his face is inches from yours, and you both look at each other in the eyes, laughing softly. “Hi,” he whispers, letting his hands move under your (his) shirt.

“Hi,” you echo, and he kisses you gently. “Are you gonna be staying up again?” He sighs softly before he shakes his head, moving his arms so that he can rub over your thighs.

“I think I still need to take a break,” he answers. “Were you gonna go back to sleep?”

“No, I kinda took a power nap earlier, so I’m gonna be up.” He nods and you look around, looking back at Hanta as you smile. “I was gonna bake some cookies if you wanna do it with me,” you offer.

He chuckles as he steps back so you can get off the counter. You grab all of the ingredients you need, and he grabs all of the supplies you’ll need. When you went out to the store earlier in the week, you didn’t really know what cookies you wanted to make, so you both just make a handful of all of the ones that you wanted.

Making the batter takes longer than it should since Hanta either keeps trying to eat the raw batter or keeps hitting you with the flour. The latter causes flour to be all over both of you, the counter, and the floor. An hour has passed before you finally put all the cookies in the oven.

“You’re gonna have to clean all this up, you know?” you tell him as you wash your hands. He washes his hands after you before crowding you against the island.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muses before he grabs you by your hips to set you on the counter. “You just sit here and look pretty.”

“That was my plan,” you jest, and he smiles, kissing you on the forehead then your nose and lips before he starts cleaning. You listen to the music you’re still playing as the sweet smell of the cookies fills your nose. You both hum to the music as Hanta moves all the dishes into the sink so that he can wipe off the counters.

You slide off the counter to check on some of the cookies after you check the time on your phone, and you gently hip-check Hanta out of the way so you can open the oven. You laugh when he pokes you in your side, and you use the handle of a spoon to check if they’re cooked through.

One of the pans is finished, so you slide an oven mitt on your hand and pull them out. You set them on the stove as you close the oven. The pan has sugar cookies on them, and they were the first ones that you and Hanta made. Instead of sitting on the counter while you wait for them to cool off, you wrap your arms around Hanta, resting your head on his back.

You always talk about how clingy Hanta gets, but if you think about it, you’re probably doing it just as much as he does. You don’t know how to explain it; it just feels natural, like something that just feels right. Every time you’re near him, it just feels like your whole mood gets better. Sometimes, you don’t even realize how down your mood is until you’re in Hanta’s arms.

He’s almost done washing everything while you continue to check the cookies and take them out if they’re fully cooked. When you finally get the last pan out of the oven, you turn it off before you try a sugar cookie. Hanta turns to you right as you take a bite, and you hold it out to him for him to do the same. He takes a bigger bite than you did, so you let him have the rest of the cookie.

You both don’t eat all of the cookies since you just finished eating dinner, but you do eat a few from each pan. “Mm, I love this song,” Hanta says as he finishes a cookie. You finish yours as he grabs your hands to pull you to the living room so you can hear the song better.

You’ve never heard the song before, but you follow him anyway. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as he starts to slowly spin around in a circle. You let your arms loosely wrap around his neck as he softly hums the song. He sings the lyrics as he looks down at you, and you smile at him as you listen to him.

You close your eyes after a while, and you rest your head against his. It’s like time slows down as the song surrounds the two of you, and Hanta moves your head so that it’s resting on his chest. He rests his chin on the top of your head gently as he hums the song.

As the song comes to an end, you can feel the energy you got from your nap earlier running out, trying your best to conceal your yawn, but Hanta hears it. He doesn’t say anything, pulling you upstairs to his room. You practically flop onto the bed, feeling the rush of fatigue hit you suddenly.

Sero slides into bed next to you after turning the lights off, and your blinking is already slow when he pulls the blanket over the both of you. “Goodnight, baby,” Hanta whispers before he huffs a bit. “Or good morning, I guess,” he adds, noting how the sunrise is starting to peak through the curtains.

You hum softly, a small smile appearing on your face for a bit before your face falls. “Goodnight, Hanta.”

When you wake up, you roll over before you notice that you’re alone in the bed. The sun is well up in the sky, and you would just go back to sleep, but you really have to pee. You groan softly, throwing the blankets off of you and stretching when you stand. After you use the bathroom, you decide to see where Hanta went.

You check his art studio first since it’s on the same floor, and you call his name softly as you push the door open. You walk in to see him painting, and he’s so focused that he doesn’t even hear you come in. You walk a little closer to him, calling his name a little louder so that you don’t scare him as you approach him.

He quickly looks over his shoulder, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he turns back around. “What’re you doing up?”

“I had to pee,” you tell him as you look at what he’s doing before you look over him, seeing that he’s covered in paint, having it all over his face, fingers, arms, and torso. “How long you been at it?”

“I only slept for like an hour, I dunno,” he nearly mumbles, and you don’t really press him with any more questions.

Mina had warned you about this a while ago, telling you that whenever inspiration strikes, he’ll work until it’s finished, and there’s almost nothing that could break him from it. You decide you don’t want to get back into bed by yourself, so you grab a blanket from his room.

He has a couch in his studio, so you make yourself at home, laying down and curling yourself under the blanket. You watch him work, wondering what inspiration struck him since he was in such a slump not too long ago. You notice that he has the song that was playing last night that he was singing, and it makes you smile as the memories fill your head.

Once you settle into the couch, you can feel yourself starting to feel sleepy. You didn’t check the time when you woke up, but it doesn’t feel like you got much sleep, so you don’t fight it when it comes back.

When you wake up, Hanta is in the same position that you last saw him in. He seems to be working on something different, and you starting to think that he’s been at this for a while now. The music is still playing in the room, and your stomach grumbles a little when your body starts to shake the sleep off.

If you’re hungry, then Hanta has to be as well, but you don’t think you’d be able to pull him away for even a second. You go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you go downstairs to try and figure out what you want to eat. When you walk into the kitchen, you see that it’s completely empty, so Hanta must’ve put the cookies up earlier.

It’s nearly the afternoon, so you’re not really in the mood for breakfast, so you just decide to heat up dinner from last night. You make yourself a plate before grabbing two bottles of water and making your way back to the studio.

You set yours on the couch while you put the other one on the floor next to the easel that Hanta’s using, but not in a spot where he could knock it over. “Hanta, you should eat,” you try.

“In a minute, I promise,” he hums, and a smile pulls at the corner of your lip as you roll your eyes. You hold out some of the food on your fork in Hanta’s direction, and he barely registers that it’s there. You try to put it in his line of sight, and he eats it off the fork, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the canvas.

You feel a little better that he has something on his stomach even if it isn’t a lot, but you don’t want to risk ruining his painting, so you give him his space and sit back down on the couch. This is honestly how you spend the next couple of days. You try to get a little bit of food in Hanta’s stomach, and you notice that he’s drinking the water even though you’ve never seen him pick up the bottle.

You sleep on the couch whenever fatigue gets to you because you don’t want to be in a different room than Hanta, and you want to make sure that he doesn’t pass out or anything. Every time you wake up or walk back into the room, he seems to be covered in more paint than he was the previous time you saw him. Once a couple of days pass, you wonder if he’s going to make the deadline for the art show he mentioned.

You didn’t ask him if what he was painting was for that event because you were confident you weren’t going to get an answer from him. But you’re hoping that he’ll be done soon because you miss him. This is the first time since you’ve met that his attention has been on something longer than it’s been on you. You try to ignore the jealousy you’re feeling, but sometimes it can’t be helped.

You’ve dozed off again, and you can hear someone calling your name, but you’re trying to figure out if it’s coming from the real world or your dream world. As you start to become more aware of the voice, you can feel something rubbing at your cheek. You open your eyes slowly to see Hanta squatting down in front of you, his face level with yours.

“Hanta?” you mumble. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, I am,” he answers softly with a small smile. You look past him to see that he’s added another canvas to the three he already had. “Thank you for taking care of me, baby.”

You practically gush at the praise, that smile he always wears would make you melt like it always does if you weren’t laying down. “Of course. Can’t have my boyfriend passing out on me.”

He chuckles a bit as you yawn. “Why don’t you get in bed? I’m gonna shower, and I’ll be in there with you soon.” You make a noise of protest but slowly get up anyway. Hanta quickly kisses you on the forehead before you leave, and you make the short walk to his room, crashing on the bed once it’s in reach.

You pull the blanket up to your chin as you snuggle into the bed, getting comfortable since you’ve been sleeping on the couch for a while. You fight sleep for as long as you can, wanting to wait for Hanta to slide in next to you. You fall asleep eventually, not realizing it until you feel something running over your face.

You slowly peel your eyes open, Hanta’s face coming into view and becoming less blurry. “Hey, angel,” he whispers, and you smile weakly before moving closer to him. “Go back to sleep.”

“But I wanna talk to you,” you mumble. “I haven’t spent time with you in, like, days.” Your words are slow since you’re so tired, but you keep talking anyway. You lift your head up, resting your chin on his chest so that you can keep looking at him. “And I didn’t see you today because I had that exam.”

“Oh, shit. I forgot about that. I’m so sorry.”

You slowly shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. I know you had stuff to do too.”

“So, how do you think you did?” he asks, smiling at how sleepy you are.

“I don’t think I did great, but I don’t think I failed either,” you respond. “But I hope that Mina passes because she’ll have to take the class again if she fails.”

“Ah, I’m sure she did fine,” Hanta says, wrapping his arm around you as he guides your head to lie down on his chest. “Now, go to sleep, baby. You’re stupidly tired.”

“Yeah, but I wanna talk to you,” you say softly even though you’re letting the fatigue take over.

“You can talk to me as soon as you get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

You went to the art gallery to see the paintings that Sero made since he wouldn’t let you see them until they were displayed. They were beautiful of course, and you were mostly impressed that he was able to finish four paintings in less than a week. Neither of you stayed long, and you helped him bring all of them back to his house.

He puts them up in his art studio, and you really look at them. “I can’t believe that you did this in so little time.”

“I had you to thank,” he says, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Having a muse is no joke.”

You laugh a little, shaking your head as you sink into him. “You always say that.”

“Cause it’s true,” he presses. “I made all of this because you were the one that pulled me away when I wasn’t making any progress. You inspired all of this.” You can’t help but smile, and when you really look at each one, you can see things in the paintings that relate to what you and Hanta had been doing for the last week.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” you respond softly, the beauty of his paintings really hitting you when you realize that they represent the two of you. God, you really like him, and by the looks of his art, he feels the exact same way.

Second semester is well underway, and you're so glad that you didn't stack it up this time. It's not exactly smooth sailing, but you're not drowning in work and due dates this time. Since Hanta will be graduating early, he's been doing a lot of work on his senior project, which takes up most of his time when he's really focused on it. The thought makes you upset if you think about it for too long, but Hanta's always making sure that you're not dwelling on it. Just because he's graduating doesn't mean that he'll be going anywhere.

By prioritizing your time, you give yourself a lot of free time on the weekends, which allows you to really reset before the next school week. You usually spend this time catching up on your Animal Crossing island or continuing your journey of reaching perfection in Stardew Valley. You hang out with your friends if you're feeling up to it, and sometimes you find yourself forcing Hanta to take a break when you notice he's been working for too long.

"Hanta, I know your hand is hurting like a bitch," you comment after you've seen him shake his hand multiple times as he looks over his work. "At least lay with me," you try, pulling softly on his wrist. "You've been working nonstop, you can't keep doing this."

He finally stands with a sigh, a tired smile appearing on his face when you look up at him, your smile beaming. You pull him into his room, and he lays on top of you when you get on the bed. You grab your switch as you start to explain everything that you've been doing so far in the games you're playing. His breathing starts to become more even, a little slower, so you lower your voice as you continue talking.

"I love you." You freeze mid-sentence because you were sure he was fast asleep. You pause your movements before you look down at him, and he's looking at you, his eyes half-open.

"What?" you whisper, his words finally starting to register in your head.

"I love you," he repeats. "You don't have to say it back, don't worry," he adds. "I just wanted to tell you because it's all I think about when I look at you." You let your hand fall to the side as he talks so that you can really look at him. "I really love you, like a lot."

You can tell he's about to fall asleep because his words are starting to jumble together, but you're still at a loss for words. "And I love when I wake up next to you, and I love how you take care of me," he continues before rubbing his face against your chest. "I really got lucky with you."

It's the last thing you hear him say before he finally goes to sleep, and you feel so overwhelmed with emotions, you don't know how to feel. You fight the tears in your eyes that you're certain came from your overwhelming happiness before you rub over his head.

He stirs a bit, but he doesn't wake up, and you stare at him for who knows how long before you get back to your game.

Hanta’s laying on the bed, half-watching the show that’s playing on the TV. He adjusts himself against the headboard once his lower back starts to ache a bit as he hears you coming back from the bathroom. His attention is totally focused on you when you carefully walk into the room, your attention on your phone.

Your hair is slightly damp from detangling it in the shower, but Sero's more fixated on what you're wearing. You've got a lot more skin showing than usual, a tight fitting tank top on your body, and the lower half is only covered by your underwear.

He quickly moves over to your side of the bed as you plug your phone up, and he catches your wrist when you set it on the nightstand. "What's this?" he questions softly, making a point to only look at your body, and you look down at yourself before you look at him with a frown.

"What's what?" you say, sliding your fingers in between his. "My clothes?" you add with a quick laugh. He pulls you towards the bed, and you easily follow, getting on the bed on your knees before he guides you to sit in between his legs with your back against his chest.

You get comfortable, relaxing against him as he looks down your body over your shoulder. "It's different," he mumbles, resting his hands on your hips, one of them playing with the hem of your tank before dipping underneath to rub at your skin.

"Good different or bad different?" you ask quietly, and Hanta keeps his eyes on your chest, continuing to touch your body as he watches your nipples harden, eventually peaking through the material.

"Oh, sweetheart," he starts, finally looking you in the eyes. "There is nothing bad about this." Both of his hands make their way under your shirt as you gently place your hands on his thighs. "Why the change, hm?"

You were kind of hoping he wouldn't notice, but you are wearing something that you haven't really worn before, at least not at his house. You usually wear his shirts and shorts to bed, occasionally underwear if you feel like it, but you've never worn anything this revealing before.

You can thank Mina for that. You had been thinking about doing more with Hanta, but you didn't know how to start the conversation without being so awkward. So, you asked Mina and she said that this would help, but you don't know if you can even bring yourself to say it.

It took you about five minutes after putting your clothes on to walk out of the bathroom. "I just get hot at night sometimes," you say softly, looking away.

"Really?" he hums before his fingers reach your tits where they rub over them gently, purposefully avoiding your nipples. "Well, as long as you're comfortable." You don't respond, your breath catching in your chest a little due to Hanta touching you.

You try to focus on the show that's playing, but it's impossible. Your legs slide across the bed and against his legs as his hands divide into two paths across your body. One of his hands rubs in between your legs, but he keeps his fingers over your panties.

His other hand rubs over your stomach before he softly cups your tit. His finger gently rubs over your nipple, and your toes curl as you bite your lip, having such a hard time keeping quiet. He dips his fingers further down your body, smirking to himself when he can feel how you're soaking your underwear.

"Hanta," you mumble when you feel his lips on your neck.

"What?" he teases, letting his fingers dip under your panties, and you jump a bit when they immediately find your clit. You moan quietly when he rubs at your sensitive bud, and he moves his hand up to pull your shirt above your boobs.

He plays with the most sensitive parts of you, your head eventually falling back on his shoulder as your legs starts to struggle to stay open. You grab onto his wrist gently, but he doesn't stop touching you, and you almost forget what you were actually trying to do in the first place.

You don't know if you can even bring yourself to say it, and in your head you say that you need more time to boost your confidence, when in reality, Hanta's fingers are just too good. You let your eyes close as his fingers prod at your entrance, moving his hand from your chest so that he can continue to rub at your clit.

He doesn't even have to slide his fingers all the way in for you to feel your orgasm rising. You turn your head to the side, your grip on his wrist tightening as he kisses you softly. You can barely keep up with it, and he uses your distracted state to claim your mouth, letting his tongue move around yours before sucking on it.

You gasp into his mouth, your back arching away from him, and Hanta smirks as he watches you before turning his attention to where his fingers disappear under your panties. "You close?" he whispers even though he already knows the answer, his smirk turning into a smile when you quickly nod your head.

Your face screws up in that way that he loves, and you start to move into his fingers, which causes you to grind against him. He's already hard, so you moving gives him a little bit of challenge as his focus gets split just a little. His jaw clenches as he focuses on you and making you cum, encouraging you through it.

You cum with a gasp of his name, your body shaking as you try to keep moving your hips. He keeps his fingers moving until you start to settle down, and he easily slides them into his mouth after taking them out of you. You call his name again, and he hums as he looks down at you.

Your eyes are barely open, but he can see how your pupils are blown wide, and he'll never get tired of reducing you to this state. "What's up, baby?" he asks, using his other hand to rub over your tummy again.

"More," you start, and before he can press you about what you mean, you move your face into his neck.

"Can't give you what you want if you're not looking at me, angel," he counters softly, grinning when he can hear you whine a little.

You take a couple of deep breaths before he feels you move your head. "I wanna feel you," you mumble, "...inside me."

Hanta feels his world stop for a little bit as his dick twitches. His breath gets caught in his chest for a second, but he recovers quickly. "You sure?" You nod quickly. "I don't wanna hurt you," he continues even though there's nothing more that he would love to do.

"Maybe just the tip? I don't care, I just wanna feel you." He can't stop the groan that comes out of him. "Please, Han."

"Okay, okay, baby. I gotcha," he coos softly, moving so that he can lay you down. You watch him straddle you, and you look down to see that he's very much hard. He kisses you gently, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. "Are you sure?"

You nod quickly again, reaching for the top of his shorts, but he's quick to put his hands on top of yours. "And you'll tell me if you wanna stop."

"Yes, Hanta," you answer quickly. "I promise." You look him in the eye to let him know that you mean it. You try at his shorts again and this time he lets you, helping you slide them down to his knees. He pulls your underwear down and off your legs as you admire what's in between his legs, and you can feel your nerves start to come back.

Now that you're starting to lose that post-orgasmic high, your thoughts are starting to run wild again. You watch as he reaches into his nightstand, pulling out a condom, and reality starts to set in for you.

He looks at you again before he opens it like he could feel how nervous you are. "We don't have to do this, sweetheart," he reminds you again.

"I-I know, but I want to," you answer before your eyes trail down again. "You're just...really big," you breathe, saying the last part under your breath.

"And I'm not gonna go all the way unless you want me to, okay?" He leans down to kiss you, taking his time to help you ease your nerves. You can hear him rip the wrapper open, and you pull away to look at his hands.

"Do we really need that?" you ask, your voice genuine.

"Yeah," he answers, nodding his head. "I don't trust myself," he adds, but you don't seem to hear him because you're watching him slide the condom on. It's been a while for him, and he definitely doesn't trust his pull-out game, especially if he goes in raw. He grabs a pillow, having you lift your hips up so he can slide it under you.

You jump when you feel his fingers touch your hole, and he's quick to rub your thighs with his other hand. "Relax, baby, just breathe." He moves a little closer to you on his knees so that he can keep your legs open, and he uses his thumb to rub at your clit as he stretches you open.

You're still a little sensitive from your orgasm, but it doesn't take long for you to start soaking his fingers. "You ready?" he asks, and you nod quickly, giving him a verbal confirmation He guides himself towards your entrance, and he continues to rub your leg. "Relax, okay?" he whispers before he moves again. He rubs at your clit, which is definitely welcomed when you feel him start to push in.

It's definitely bigger than his fingers, and you wince just a bit, your breath catching for a second. The stretch starts to feel good though, and you can't help but moan as he keeps moving after you urge him to by gently pulling on his arm. You look up at him when he groans, seeing that he's let his head fall, stilling himself as he lets his hands fall beside you on the bed.

"How you feeling?" he asks after he takes a deep breath, lifting up his head to look at you.

You look down at where he's currently disappearing inside of you as you nod. "I'm okay, it feels kinda weird," you say honestly. "But you feel good." A low moan escapes him before he carefully bends his arms so that he can kiss you. "Can you move?" you ask against his lips.

He nods, moving inside of you a little deeper before sliding back out. It's not enough to really make you feel anything crazy, but you do feel better and lot less nervous about the whole thing. You spread your legs open a bit, watching him move, and you don't tell him to move any further inside of you, but you really do like feeling him inside of you. "Does it feel good for you?" You notice that he's been usually quiet, and you look at him, his eyes opening right after you do.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Really good." He groans again, and he didn't think that he could shake this much. His body is vibrating as he tries to keep his pace steady without going any further, but you're so tight, your pussy so snug around him. Suddenly, he's slowly sliding out of you, making you gasp, before he stutters out a breath. "F-Fuck, I can't--I can't," he gasps. "Sorry, baby."

"What's wrong?" you ask, watching his chest heave. He kisses you instead of answering you at first, trying to calm himself down first.

"Can't control myself," he mumbles against you. "You feel too good, and I don't wanna hurt you."

"O-Oh," you say, feeling heat rush to your face even though it's pretty warm, and you look away from him before you speak. "But I still want you to cum," you admit, having a hard time holding his eyes.

"Yeah?" he muses, smiling at you. You nod, shyly diverting your gaze, only looking at him when he lifts himself up. He sits back on his legs, and you watch him slide the condom off, chucking it into the trashcan. He sighs as he pumps himself, and you can't help but watch until he grabs your legs.

You let him move you, wondering what he's doing as he starts to lift your legs by your knees. He straightens your legs, moving them to the side so your ankles rest on his shoulder. You gasp softly when you feel him slide in between your legs, and he feels so hot against your skin.

He starts move his hips slowly, and his movements rub against your clit which causes you to release a quiet moan. His hips slap against the back of your legs as he speeds up his thrusts, and you can see the tip peaking out every time he moves forward. You try to squeeze your thighs together, and he moans as he starts to lean forward, pushing your legs to your body.

"Shit," he groans, and you can feel yourself getting wet just watching him lose himself as he fucks your thighs. He plants his hand on the bed next to you as his hips start to lose their rhythm. He moans as his eyebrows crease, and you gasp when you feel something warm hit your stomach.

You look down to see him shooting onto your skin, slamming his hips against you a couple more times before he slows. He lets your legs go, and you immediately let them fall around him as he catches his breath. "Fuck, that was so good," he sighs, and he gets up so that he can clean you up as you roll your ankles, trying to circulate the blood in your feet.

He cleans the both of you up, and he lays down next to you, rolling over onto his side as he moves you into the same position. "You okay?" he asks, rubbing over your body. You hum your answer before he kisses you on your forehead. You both listen to the show playing on the TV, but neither of you is watching, just focusing on each other's breathing.

"As much as I love seeing you barely wearing anything, you could've just asked me," he says suddenly, and you feel your face warm.

"I know," you mumble, and he chuckles quietly, kissing your skin again in a quick apology.

You fight tears for as long as you can when Hanta graduates. You're happy for him of course, and you find yourself laughing when all of your friends joke that he ditched them and won't be suffering with the rest of them. Since it's the summer, you all have plans to hang out over the break, just a way to get away from school and just have some fun.

You all decide to go to the beach, which is very predictable, but you all had been saving up money, and you all wanted to spend time with Hanta before he goes on and does whatever he's going to be doing. Because everyone's exam schedule is different, you all decide to just get to the hotel on your own time. You and Hanta go together, getting there before everyone else.

You have a couple of days until everyone else gets here, and you spend those days at the beach or in the hotel if it's too hot. When everyone finally gets to the beach, the rest of the week goes by in a blur. You all go to escape rooms, sightseeing, try all kinds of restaurants, and of course, spend time at the beach.

You ask Hanta to rub sunscreen on your back, which just leads to him trying to convince you to let him do your whole body. He pouts when you tell him no, sulking on the blanket he has on the sand, and you roll your eyes before applying the rest of your sunscreen. You play in the water with Denki and Jirou for a while before the heat starts to get to you. You leave them alone since they somehow still have so much energy.

You lay down on your blanket next to Hanta, and he doesn't move when you lay down or when you were walking toward him. He has sunglasses on, so you assume that he's asleep. You dry yourself off a bit before you move to lay on your stomach, scrolling on your phone as you look around the beach.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel something touch your ass, and you look over your shoulder to see Hanta's head facing toward you. You yelp softly when he squeezes, pushing his hand away. "Hanta, you can't do that," you laugh, moving his hand away when he tries to touch you again.

"But you look so good," he tries, and you brush his hand away once more before you shift out of his reach.

"You can touch me all you want at the hotel," you argue lightly, shaking your head as you look at your phone again. You can see Hanta get up in your peripheral, but you don't think much of it. You sit up getting ready to turn over when Hanta pulls you to your feet. "What are you doing?"

He suddenly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder before he grabs your stuff with his other hand. You shout in surprise before you start laughing, telling him to put you down at your hit his back softly with your fists. Since your hotel is on the beach, it doesn't take him long to reach the doors, and he sets you down right before he gets to the building.

He doesn't give you time to catch your breath, pulling you into the hotel and toward your room. You wonder what in the world has gotten into him, and he barely lets the room door close before his hands are all over your body. "Hanta, what the hell are you doing?" you ask lightly, but you don't stop what he's doing.

"I'm touching you all I want," he jabs, and you laugh as you roll your eyes.

"But I'm covered in sand," you try, and you think he ignores you, but he's pulling you toward the bathroom. He turns the shower on, undressing himself before he quickly undresses you, checking the water before getting in the shower with you in tow. "Hanta, you don't even--"

"Why are you being so mean to me?" he whines as he presses you against the wall. Your back arches, pushing your body into him because the wall is so cold. "Just let me love on you." You can't help but laugh, but you rest your arms around his shoulders as he lets his hands rub over your body. He stares at you, the loving look in his eyes still making you nervous despite seeing it all the time.

"I love you," he says, squeezing your hips before letting his hands rub up your back.

"So, I've been told," you tease, and you stand on your toes to reach his lips. He hums when you kiss him, leaning down so that you don't have to keep standing on your toes.

"You're so beautiful," he tells you softly.

"Someone has also told me that," you laugh before you look down to yawn, blinking rapidly as your eyes start to water. "I wanna take a nap," you whisper, even though it's pretty obvious. Hanta moves so that you're under the stream, and you let him wash your body, neither of you says a word, letting the silence along with the sound of the water running fill the air.

He takes care of you before he takes care of himself, drying you off first before moisturizing your skin with your lotion. You lightly push him away so that he can dry off because the water dripping from him lands on your skin and it's freezing cold. You get dressed, spreading out on the bed before you curl into yourself as you roll onto your side. You get under the blankets, rubbing your legs against the sheets as content floods your system.

You hear Hanta slide into the bed next to you, but you don't turn around, feeling his hand rub over your body. You eventually grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his. He kisses all over your face and neck, making you giggle before you roll over to face him. You adjust your hand, letting go of his to turn it around before holding his hand again.

You shift up a bit so you can kiss him, the action making the both of you smile immediately. You kiss him again and again and again until he chuckles. "What's up with you?" he whispers, and you pull away but keep your face close to his.

"Nothing," you say playfully with a shrug. "I'm just really happy."

"Yeah?" he says, his smile widening.

"Yeah," you respond quickly with a nod as your smile widens with his. You kiss him again before you rest your top half on his. He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand while his other hand rubs over your back. You can feel that fatigue you felt earlier in the shower creep up on you, yawning loudly as you let your eyes close.

You wake up, wondering when you went to sleep, finding yourself in bed by yourself. You sit up slowly, stretching as you try to wake up, and the clock on the nightstand tells you that you've been sleeping for about an hour. Hanta is walking out of the bathroom as you blink heavily, really trying to get the sleep out of your eyes.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks, getting back into bed. Before you can answer, he's already laying down, gently taking you with him.

"I'm still so tired," you mumble, snuggling into him.

"Mm, I bet," he hums. "You've been out in the sun all day." You didn't really make any progress with trying to wake yourself up, and with Hanta's body heat radiating against you, it's an even bigger fight. "Go back to sleep. I need you well rested for a later tonight."

"Hm? What's tonight?" you whisper as you start to go in and out of sleep.

"A surprise." You feel him kiss your forehead, and you smile subconsciously, completely forgetting to question him about the surprise as you fall back asleep.

You have a lot more energy when you wake up the second time, seeing that the sun is already starting to set. Hanta's out of bed once again, telling you that you need to get ready when you sit up. He still won't tell you what's going on, but you get out of bed and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You walk back out to get dressed before you go back into the bathroom to put some earrings on.

Hanta walks into the bathroom when you put the last one on, and you smile at him through the mirror. He returns it, wrapping his arms around you before kissing you on your head. "You look beautiful, angel." You lean back into him, letting your head fall back so that you can kiss him.

"Thank you," you whisper. "Are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Nice try," he smiles, and you playfully roll your eyes at another failed attempt. "But I do have something for you." You raise your eyebrows in interest. "Close your eyes, okay?" You move your head back down before you let your eyes close, and you can hear him moving behind you.

You jump a little when you feel something cold touch your neck, and you wait until he tells you to open your eyes. When you open your eyes they automatically fall on the necklace he's put on you. You step forward, closer to the mirror, to look at the gold jewelry, seeing his name caged in by two roses; the flower that he put in your hair when you first started hanging out with him.

"I love it," you say, running your fingers over it. "It's so pretty."

"Like the girl that's wearing it," he muses, and you can't help but laugh, turning around to give him a hug.

"Thank you, Hanta."

"You're welcome, baby." You pull away, finally taking him in since you're not blocking your own view in the mirror. The first thing you notice is that he's not wearing the necklaces that he usually is, instead it's the same one you're wearing except your name is the one on it. You freeze for a split second before you run your fingers across it.

"You got one too?"

"Of course," he answers, tilting your head by your chin so that he can kiss you. "Cause I'm all yours." The statement makes your face warm, but pride swells in your chest at the same time because he's right. And you're all his. You wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again, and you fight the urge to whine when he pulls away too soon. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."

He pulls you out of the bathroom so that you can put your shoes on, and you follow him out of the hotel room, letting him lead the way since you still don't know what he has planned. Since the sun has started to go down, the air is much cooler at night, and there's a nice breeze that carefully blows through the air when you step outside. With the light from the sun starting to disappear, the boardwalk is lively, all of the lights starting to light up the sky.

He takes you there first, and it's got food, games, and rides. There are people everywhere, and he holds your hand the entire time as you walk around, taking it all in. Once you get there, he lets you take the lead, following wherever you go. The first thing you think about is food since it's all you can smell, and you spend a good portion of your time just trying to narrow down your options.

You're finally able to pick one once your stomach starts growling for you to feed it something, and Hanta ends up getting food from your second choice so that you can try it also. You don't get a lot of food because you know you're going to be doing a lot of walking, so you don't want to stuff yourself full. You head towards the games first, starting with the ones where you have to compete with Hanta.

You only win a couple of the games, but you're happy nonetheless especially since Hanta gives you all the prizes he wins. You move through the area, having a hard time hiding your gasp every time you see a stuffed animal prize that you want. And every time you do it, Hanta is immediately going over to the booth to win it for you. Both of you can barely carry anything, and you can't help but laugh at yourself as you walk through the boardwalk.

Your feet start aching after a while, and your arms are starting to burn from holding everything for so long. Hanta tells you to wait right outside of the boardwalk before he takes the stuffed animals that you're holding. He reassures you that he can hold them all before he walks away, and it's not even five minutes until he comes back empty-handed.

"Please don't tell me that you ran to the hotel and back," you say hesitantly, letting him grab your hand and walk you in a different direction.

"No, I asked Denki if he could hold them for you," he tells you after he chuckles. "I had more planned tonight, so I asked him to take them." You want to ask him what else he has planned, but you notice that you're coming up on the Ferris wheel. You get lucky with your timing because you barely have to wait to get on it.

Hanta lets you get in first before he slides into the cart next to you. It takes a while for you to get to the top since everyone stops at the top of the wheel, but you reminisce about the time that you're spending with Hanta nonetheless. He keeps you close to him with his arm wrapped around you so that you're tucked into his side, and you take in the sights around you as you get higher.

You start to take pictures once you get high enough to see a lot of stuff, and Hanta watches you fondly the entire time, happy that you seem to be really having fun. Your excitement starts to dwindle into awe as you reach the top, really taking in everything that you can see. "God, this is so pretty," you admire, nearly getting lost in everything you're looking at.

"Yeah, it is," he whispers, causing you to finally look at him only to find him looking right at you.

"You're not even looking at the view," you joke.

"Why would I when you're the best thing my eyes have seen?"

"You're always saying that," you counter as the blood rushes to your face, and you try to shift your attention back to the sky, but he stops you quickly by softly catching your chin.

"Because it's true, and I'm gonna keep saying it. You're the prettiest damn woman I've ever seen," he declares. "You take my breath away every time I see you first thing after I wake up."

"Hanta." He smiles fondly at your reaction, chuckling a little as he watches you.

"I love you so much," he continues, and you want to tell him how you feel the same way, but it's hard for you to get your words out in the way that you want. You know Hanta knows that, and you hope that you can find the words that you want to say, but you decide to worry about it another time when he kisses you.

You miss the view at the very top of the Ferris wheel in favor of letting yourself melt into him, but you're not upset about that at all. You sigh softly when he deepens the kiss a bit as he starts to lean forward. It makes you move backward until you're pressed against the window at the same time you feel his hand sneaking up your leg.

"Are you really trying to feel me up right now?" you question playfully, and his smile tickles your lips as he his hand continues its path.

"What if I was?"

"People can probably see us, Hanta," you try even though you make no move to stop him.

"Well, then you shouldn't have worn something that gives me easy access."

You scoff softly. "Hey, that's not fair--" He cuts you off gently by kissing you again, bending one of your legs at the knee so that your foot is resting on the seat. He nudges your other leg away, and he slides closer to you, further trapping you in between the wall and him. Your hands dig into his shoulders as you feel him reach in between your legs under your dress.

You gasp when he starts to rub over your covered pussy, and you can barely feel the Ferris wheel starting to move again. You want to be embarrassed about how anyone could see you, but right now it's only making you even more aroused. "Hanta," you whisper, barely able to get his name out since he's starting to reach into your underwear. "W-We're going down."

He just hums into your mouth before carefully pushing his tongue inside, and you easily let him. "How does that make you feel?" he asks, and he's barely got his finger pressed against your entrance, but he can feel how you're throbbing at the thought. "Someone seems to be into it," he teases, and he pulls away, finally looking at you with a cheeky smile.

He lets his thumb rub over your clit, and you glance out the window to see that you're getting lower. You're caught in between wanting to push him away or pull him closer, and a stifled moan leaves your mouth. He kisses you again, this time a lot sloppier than before, the wet sounds of your mouth slotting together echoing in the cart.

He pulls away, a string of saliva the only thing keeping you connected until he breaks it. He slides his hand from between your legs, smiling at how gone he nearly has you. "You're so mean," you say breathlessly with a small pout. He kisses your forehead in apology as he closes your legs and fixes your dress.

"You love it though, right?"

"No," you huff, shoving him a little, but both of you know that you don't mean it. You're still flustered when you get off the Ferris wheel, and in the back of your head, you're wondering if someone really did see what you were doing. You let Hanta take your hand and guide you through the slew of people, and you're looking at your surroundings when you stop suddenly. Hanta quickly stops when you pull against his hand, turning around to see what made you stop.

"There's a photobooth!" you exclaim, pulling Hanta in the direction of it before he can even respond. There's no one inside when you pull the curtain aside, and you slide inside with Sero right behind you. Although, it's made known immediately that there definitely isn't enough room for the both of you on the seat because of how big he is. He waste no time sitting you on his lap, and you give him a look.

"What?"

"Behave," you say playfully, not needing to say much for him to understand. All he does is smile at you, but his hands stay on your waist, and you queue up the camera. You take so many pictures to the point where all you see is the negative image of the flash every time you blink.

You both smile at the camera for the first couple before Hanta plants his lips on your cheek for one. You do the same for another before he can't help but kiss you which last for a couple of takes. You both pull away to laugh, only looking at each other and completely forgetting about the camera.

"You havin' fun?" he asks, and you nod instantly, the big smile on your face enough of an answer for him. You both get out once the automated voice tells you that you're done taking the pictures, and you grab them from the holder. You smile fondly as you look at them, handing Hanta his copies.

He takes your hand in his again as you start to walk away from the boardwalk, and the night has started to become a little cooler with the wind picking up. Hanta gives you is jacket to wear before he guides you to the beach, the sand and part of the water illuminated by the moonlight.

"So, what was all this for anyway?" you ask, swinging you and Hanta's arms as you walk along the beach. He's got your shoes in his other hand as he shrugs, lifting his arm up to spin you around which makes you giggle.

"I just wanted to spend time with my girl." He pulls you into him, kissing you softly. "I know I said I wasn't going anywhere after graduating, but you never know what life throws your way," he says. "So, I want to make as many memories with you just in case it gets a little harder in the future."

"Well, I definitely won't forget this night," you tell him fondly, bringing your hand up so you kiss his. "Thank you, Hanta."

He lets go of your hand to brush your hair back. "Anything for you." You reach up on your toes to kiss him before you back away from him.

"I have a really crazy idea." He raises his eyebrows, watching you slide his jacket off, and they go even higher when you take your dress off after.

"Didn't think you'd be into skinny dipping, baby," he muses even though he's not going to object this at all.

"It's too cold to get totally naked," you argue. "But you gotta catch me," you tease, slowly tiptoeing backward, and Hanta's quick to start shedding his clothes. You turn around, shivering a bit when your toes touch the icy cold water. You're wondering when Sero's about to get undressed, and you scream when you're suddenly in the air.

You can hear Hanta laughing as he runs into the water with you in his arms, and he plops you down in the water. You yelp again at how ridiculously cold it is, your body instantly starting to shiver, and Hanta turns you around so he can put your hair up into a bun. "You're an ass. This water is freezing!" you scold playfully, rubbing your hands over your arms.

"Oh, it's not that bad," he responds before splashing you with water. You freeze as your mouth drops open, your body processing what just happened. When your brain finally catches up, you're quick to retaliate, throwing water back at him. A water fight ensues, both of you laughing loudly as you both go back and forth throwing water onto each other.

You manage to push him down, and he gasps loudly as he quickly gets to his feet. "Holy shit, that's fucking cold!"

"I told you!" you say before you try to run away because you know he's going to get his lick back. It's hard in the water, and his legs are longer than yours so he catches up to you easily. He scoops you up in his arms, and you squirm as hard as you can, but it's no use. You scream through your teeth when he squats, plunging your body into the water until your head is the only thing not in the water.

At this point, you're both laughing, and you splash him with water until he finally lets you go. You both stand, shivering as you try to catch your breath. "Do you think we'd get in trouble?" you ask, and Hanta looks around before he shrugs.

"Dunno, but this water is too cold to stay in." You agree, both of you making quick moves to get out and grab your stuff. You put your clothes back on even though they get soaking wet, and you both continue to shiver as you hold hands on the way back to the hotel.

You're both dripping water as you walk through the lobby and to your room, walking fast so you can get into a hot shower as soon as possible. Hanta unlocks and opens the door, and you both rush in but quickly stop when your eyes land on all of the stuffed animals in the room. You both look around before looking at each other, your laughs filling the room a split second later.

You decide to worry about it later, making your way to the bathroom. You both shed your clothes again, and you hang them dry as Hanta turns on the water. Once the water is warm enough, you both hop in quickly, sighing in relief when the warm water hits your skin. Hanta lets you stay under the water first, rubbing over your body to help you warm up faster.

You let him under the stream next, and once you both are warmed up, you wash yourselves. You wash Hanta's hair before he washes your body, and even as you start to wind down in the shower, there's a part of you that doesn't want to be any further from him. He ushers you out of the shower to dry off while he finishes, and you wipe yourself down with the towel before wrapping it around your body.

You decide to wait for Hanta, playing with the necklace he got you while you replay everything that happened today in your head. You must've zoned out because you jump a bit when you hear the shower curtain slide across the rod. You turn around, seeing Hanta step out, immediately grabbing a towel for his body. You grab a towel for his hair, and you can't help but stare at his muscles, watching the ones in his arms move and tense as he dries off.

You try to ignore the heat that's starting to form in between your legs by walking up to him and drying his hair off once he wraps the towel around his waist. You smile at each other as he leans his head down so you can wipe his hair, doing so until the towel is wet. You let the towel fall around his neck, but you don't let go of it just yet. "Okay, so maybe getting in the water was a bad idea."

He huffs. "Oh, definitely, but it was a lot of fun." You hum in agreement, and just looking at him right now makes you realize how hard you've fallen for him. You pull on the towel gently to guide his head down to you.

"I really had a lot of fun today, Hanta," you whisper after you kiss him.

"I'm glad, angel." He gives you a soft smile, and you pull him down to kiss him again. He easily follows, and you let go of the towel in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring your lips back together when he pulls away, and the air between the two of you slowly starts to shift.

His hands run up and down your body, before he bends down a bit to grab at your thighs. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist when he picks you up, and he slides his tongue into your mouth as he walks into the room. He rubs your skin under the towel, and the touch sends pleasant shivers up your spine. He gets on the bed, moving on his knees before he carefully sets you down on your back, barely creating space between the two of you.

He grabs your wrists in one of his hands, moving your arms up over your head as his other hand starts to split your towel. You spread your legs once you feel his fingers ghost over your thigh, keeping your lips on his because kissing him feels like it's addicting; it's something you can't help but do.

You gasp when he runs his hand up your body before he pulls at the towel so that it falls to your side, the movement mimicking curtains being drawn to reveal your body. Once Hanta gets the towel off, he leaves your lips to kiss down your face toward your neck. As his lips trail down your body, his hand is trailing up your body, and you wait in anticipation to see what he touches next.

You moan softly when his mouth reaches your tits at the same time his fingers reach your pussy, which makes him smile when he feels how wet you already are. His tongue circles your nipple as he runs his fingers through your folds before swirling his finger around your swollen clit. He still has your wrists in his hand, and that paired with his weight on top of you makes you even hotter all over.

You arch into him as he sucks at your chest, your moans growing in volume as he speeds up his ministrations on your sensitive bud. He keeps your legs spread with his own, letting one of his fingers drift down to your sopping entrance. "Hanta," you whimper when you feel his fingers carefully slide into you. He finally lets go of your wrists as he moves back up to kiss you again, and your toes curl simultaneously with his fingers as he presses on that magic spot inside of you.

Your hands instantly run through his damp hair, and dig into his shoulder, finding purchase anywhere that they can. You try to grab at his arm when he starts to increase the pump of his fingers, and he pulls away to look at the pleasurable look on your face. Your mouth falls open as you feel that knot building up in your stomach, and you can barely get his name out.

"Yeah, baby," he coos, giving you a sly grin. "You feelin' good?"

You nod quickly, your back arching off the bed. "M gonna cum, Han--ah!" Your face screws up as your legs start to shake, and you swear your foot is gonna cramp from how hard you're curling your toes.

"Go ahead, angel. Lemme see it," he urges, using his other hand to gently pinch at your clit which sends you over the edge. You moan his name as you clench around his fingers, your legs tightening around him before they go limp. You attempt to scoot away from him as he finger fucks you into oversensitivity, and he gives you relief a little while after, sliding his fingers out of you.

You try to catch your breath as your chest heaves, and Hanta rubs over your thigh as you come down. Your heartbeat is in your ears, and you vaguely hear him say something, but you're quick to stop him when he's about to get off of the bed. "Wait," you start, only saying enough to get him to stay still. He stops, looking back at you, and you take a deep breath before continuing. "What about you?"

"What about me?" he teases, and you drop your eyes to the tent that's currently in his towel. He leans back over you, planting his hands next to your head before moving down until his face is inches from yours. "Hm?" he presses, giving you a deep kiss that nearly takes your breath away.

"You can fuck me," you whisper, and although your face was about to cool down, it's definitely not anymore. His smile doesn't falter, but the playful look in his eyes turns dark, and to see it in real-time makes your sensitive core throb with need.

"Really?" he breathes, and you nod quickly, lifting your arms up so that they're resting around his neck. "You sure?" he asks after he pushes a quick breath through his nose.

"Yes, Hanta. I want you to." You pull him down so that you can slot your lips against his.

"I don't have a condom," he whispers even though his resolve is two seconds from being out of the window.

"I don't care," you whine. "I want to feel you, Hanta. All of you." He groans, kissing you again before he sits up. He honestly had no idea that this would happen. Not saying that he doesn't want this, and he doesn't think that he'll be able to say no. Not with the way you're naked under him with your pupils still blown wide from your previous orgasm.

He watches you sit up, and he doesn't stop you when you pull the towel from around his waist. You softly wrap your hand around him, sighing quietly at the heavy feeling of him in your palm. He groans again when he watches you spit on his tip before you start stroking him. "Shit," he hisses, and you look up at him as you twist your wrist, squeezing your hand a little tighter.

You sit up on your knees as you continue to touch him, and you rest your head against his. "Please, Hanta," you whisper against his lips as his hips buck into your hand.

"Okay," he moans softly, taking your hand away before he carefully pushes you to lie down. He spreads one of the towels out before he grabs a pillow, sliding it under your hips. He swears when he touches himself, adding more spit to himself. He's throbbing, convinced that he's never been this hard before.

He lets go of himself to touch you again, and he slides one of your legs to the side as he rubs over your clit again. "You'll let me know if you're hurting, right?"

"Yes, Hanta, just--please," you beg again, and he grabs one of your legs before moving closer to you. He lines himself up with your entrance, and he feels like he can't breathe the closer he gets to you. He realizes that he has to snap out of it, and he leans down, giving you a chaste kiss.

"I need you to relax for me, okay?" You nod, your body starting to settle a bit, and he rubs your clit at the same time he starts to push at your tight hole. He bites his lip, trying hard to focus on you, making sure he catches any sign of discomfort. There's nothing about your body language that's telling him to stop, so he keeps going, taking a deep breath. "Fuck, you're so tight--God," he huffs, and you moan as he continues to move, but it feels like his head is swimming.

He keeps touching your clit, but he uses his other hand to squeeze at the base of his dick, knowing that there's a dangerous chance that he'll cum before he's even all the way inside of you. "Why'd you stop?" you whine, already feeling stretched but you know all of him isn't inside of you yet.

"You gotta...give me a second," he tries, letting his head fall back on his shoulders so that he can't look at you as he thinks of anything and everything that won't turn him on. Once he's settled a bit, he finally looks at you, making sure you're okay before he finally bottoms out. "Fuck me," he mumbles, rubbing his hands over your legs. "How ya feeling, sweetheart?"

You nod, taking a few seconds to let your body adjust to the new intrusion. "Good. I feel really good." Hanta smiles, leaning down so he can kiss you again, the motion making you gasp into his mouth since he's moving inside of you. "Move, Hanta," you say against him, and he doesn't think he can wait any longer.

He grabs your legs, setting them higher up his hips before he gently places his hands on your hips. Your hands are on his arms as he slides out of you, and the feeling of the first thrust suddenly takes you by surprise, so your breath hitches. But once Hanta sets a pace, all you can do is moan. Your nails dig into his arms as your mouth falls open, your eyes falling shut as pleasure fills your veins.

"OhmyGod!" Your words rush out of you when your pleasure mounts times ten as your eyes shoot open, your clit throbbing at the huge rush that you feel. "H-Hanta," you moan, your body suddenly overwhelmed, and you softly push your hands into his arms because of how you're feeling.

"Is that it, baby?" he asks even though he already knows the answer, and you can hear how loud you're being, but you can't help it. His hips start moving faster, and that in combination with him ramming into that spot inside of you makes tears form in your eyes. "Fuck, angel, you're so fucking wet," he groans, looking down at where he's sliding in and out of you.

You don't even need to look where Hanta's looking because you can hear it. The squelching is so loud in your ears, and you half a mind to cover your ears. He suddenly leans forward, and that pushes your legs up toward your body. His body weight is fully pressing into you every time his hips slam against yours, and you don't think you've ever been more aroused.

"What's wrong, baby?" he muses, picking up on how it looks like you might be going shy on him. You wonder if he's just as affected by you as you are by him because he's still able to mess with you even when he's fucking up your guts.

"I-It's so l-loud," you mumble, having to close your eyes at how embarrassed you are. "S-Shit," you moan softly, moving your hands to his back.

"That's just her telling me how good I'm fucking you," he smugly tells you, and you want to frown at him, but your eyes cross instead as you feel your orgasm approaching.

"M c-close, Hanta," you whine, your nails digging into his skin. They slip down his back every time he fucks into you, and the feeling makes him hiss softly.

"I know, I know," he grunts. "Jesus, you're squeezing me so tight." He moans loudly before he lets his body full fall onto you. He digs his knees further into the mattress so that he can keep up his pace, and he lets his forehead rest against yours. "Fuck, f-fuck! Oh, my God!" he whines. "You gotta cum, baby, please."

He knows how desperate he sounds, but with the way you're clenching around him, he can't fight it anymore. He reaches one of his hands in between your bodies so that he can rub at your clit. Your nails dig into his skin again, and the feeling just rushes straight to his dick. He's rambling at this point, not even sure if he knows what he's saying, but he does know that he doesn't have much time.

Your legs suddenly wrap around him once you cum, and his breath gets caught in his chest as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. You hook your ankles together, and your heels dig into his lower back, trapping him. "L-Lemme out, baby," he tries. "Y-You gotta let me go, I'm gonna--"

He couldn't slow his hips down if he wanted to, and he feels like he could pass out. "Want to feel all of you, Hanta," you whisper in his ear, and he lets his head fall into your neck. "P-Please," you moan, your body easily being overstimulated since you won't let him go.

His moans are the only thing he can hear as he shoots inside of you, and he goes as deep inside of you as he can, so much that the push of his hips curl your body up. The feeling of him filling you up is weird, but it feels good at the same time, and you relax your hands as he starts to slow down, feeling his dick twitch inside of you. He lifts his head up so that he can kiss you soundly, his tongue lazily swirling around yours.

"Holy...shit," he breathes after he pulls away. He takes another deep breath, putting his forehead on yours. "You okay?" he mumbles, and you smile as you nod, running your fingers through his hair. "Shit, your pussy's so good." You can't help but huff a little at his words, but then you start to notice that his weight on you is getting heavier.

"Hanta?" you question when he finally slumps on top of you. Your eyebrows raise when he softly starts to snore, and you laugh quietly as you rub over his head. You let your legs fall a little to his sides, and once your heart rate starts to go down, you can feel how tired you actually are. He's practically crushing you, but your eyes slip closed regardless, and you let his breathing lull you to sleep.

You suddenly feel something shifting inside of you, and you immediately grimace. You peel your eyes open to see Hanta wide awake and carefully sliding out of you. When he's finally out of you, the feeling of being empty feels so weird, and you don't really like it. Hanta looks up at you when you gasp, and he gives you a soft smile. "Hey, sweetheart," he whispers. "You feeling okay?"

You hum your answer as you nod, and you wince when you try to sit up, feeling soreness in your legs and between. "Sorry, I fell asleep on you," he continues, shaking his head as he huffs at himself. "Let's get you cleaned up." You try to stand yourself once you slide to the end of the bed, but your legs shake too bad and Hanta has to catch you. He quietly apologizes before he picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom.

He holds your hand while you sit down on the toilet before he walks out of the bathroom. You take a deep breath after you pee to prepare yourself to stand up, and you swear quietly when your legs burn as you move. You flush the toilet and wash your hands, and you can hear Hanta come back in, his lower half covered with shorts. You don't feel like getting back in the shower, so Hanta cleans you up with a warm washcloth before carrying you back into the room.

He sets you on the bed before handing you his shirt to put on, and he grabs some of the snacks that you brought earlier and a bottle of water. He gets on the bed next to you as he hands you the snacks and water. "Sorry, it's not much." He lays against the headboard, and you move into him as you shake your head. He rests his arm around you as you lean your head on him.

"It's more than enough," you tell him, and you feed him a chip every now and then, half-watching the TV that he turned on while you were in the bathroom. He makes sure that you drink most of the water before he finally lays the both of you down. You guess you were sleep for about an hour, but it's still late into the night, so your body welcomes the thought of getting more sleep.

You're laying on Hanta's chest, your eyes starting to get heavy as he runs his fingers up and down your arm. As you close your eyes, you think about how much fun you've had with Hanta and how much he cares for you; it's almost overwhelming to think about. And the more you think, the more it reminds you of a conversation that you had with your mom when your parents first met Hanta.

"When did you know that you loved Dad?" you ask, and she smiles to herself as she washes the pot in the sink.

"Honestly, I just knew," she answers. "I just had this sense of security one day, and I could tell that he really loved me. That we really cared for each other." You look into the living room where Hanta's helping your dad out with something as they talk about who knows what. "That might sound like a cliché answer, but it's true."

You smile to yourself as you snuggle even more into him. "I love you." You hear his breathing stop but you keep your eyes closed. "I love you, Hanta," you repeat. He had said it first months ago, and he never pressured you to say it back. But when you think about it, you always have. You blame it on your insecurities and doubts that were subconsciously plaguing your mind without realizing it. And being here with Hanta in more ways than one has made you realize that you do love him. So much.

"I love you, too, baby." Your smile widens when you feel him kiss your forehead. For a bit, you're scared to go to sleep because you don't want this moment to end, but you know that you will have moments like this over and over again.

#sero hanta #hanta sero #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero hanta x black!reader #hanta sero x black!reader #sero hanta smut #hants sero smut #mha x black!reader #bnha x black!reader #mha smut #bnha smut

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genericpuff · 9 months ago

Note

I've been seeing you say/speculate Rachel Smythe has been cut loose from webtoon, could you elaborate what you mean by that?

It's only a tinfoil hat theory that people should take with MOUNTAINS of salt (seriously, I'm more likely to believe that Rachel really is just done with LO), but there's a general suspicion that LO wasn't meant to end here and that Webtoons decided to cut the cord. I've made a post about it before but some new stuff has surfaced since then.

1.) The announcement the series was ending was made quietly at NYCC and not shared to either Webtoons' socials or Rachel's socials.

The only way fans initially knew about the series ending was through a screencap from the Discord where someone else who had been attending NYCC passed on the info from a Q&A that LO would be entering its final arc.

For a good while the only other way to know the series was ending was through the Discord, a Cosmopolitan article, and my own post.

Though it sounds odd for a series to get cancelled halfway through its third season, it's not uncommon for Webtoons to suddenly axe series while they're on their midseason hiatuses, it's happened before. So there's a general suspicion that Rachel may have found out during NYCC that LO would only be given one more arc.

2.) The actual finale announcement was made in a text post on Instagram that suddenly announced it would be ending on May 11th, despite the fact that there was still lots to wrap up in the story.

What this implies is that Rachel was given one more arc, with no concrete end date... until Webtoons told her to wrap it up in a limited number of episodes, hence why despite us knowing it was in its final arc, the end date still felt too soon. This is also supported by the fact that her initial announcement was vaguely "early/mid 2024" - she couldn't give a more accurate end date because she didn't plan for the actual ending.

3.) Things that Rachel has said implies that she was either hoping for the final arc to go on longer, or that she didn't think LO was going to be ending now.

(that "nothing is set in stone" quote further supports the theory that she may have been hoping to get renewed in spite of the lukewarm ending announcement - that the only reason the announcement was so quiet was because WT hadn't fully committed to it yet and wanted to see how the series would do upon its return; now that they see it falling behind to other series, it might mean WT became more sure in their decision to cut it and gave her an actual deadline to wrap it up by.)

4.) Webtoons has stopped promoting Lore Olympus despite it ending.

Any promotional spots that it has gotten have been stuffed into the dead zone of the banner reels (seriously, anything past the 3rd spot is practically useless because it takes actual committed scrolling to get there vs. the first 1-3 banner spots which can be seen as soon as you open the app/site) and the banner art itself does not in any way advertise the series being in its final arc. These banners also only seem to be appearing for a day at most, compared to the days upwards of weeks they used to get.

Webtoons also hasn't been doing any sort of promoting on their socials for it. Considering The Mafia Nanny has been consistently beating out LO in the top rankings for weeks now, and that LO's rating and view count is still dropping, it appears that Webtoons has finally given up on shoving it down people's throats and put their focus elsewhere.

Again, this is all tinfoil hat speculation, so take it with massive doses of salt. Considering this is Webtoons, I wouldn't be surprised if they finally decided to put LO out of its misery, but this is also Rachel and I wouldn't blame her in the slightest if she finally wanted to be done with it after the past two years of people clowning on it. And I say that knowing I, myself, am a clown LOL

Either way, I feel like either outcome is plausible in its own ways, but whatever is the true reason, it doesn't change the fact that LO is ending and has 3 episodes left to wrap itself up. And whatever comes after will likely involve the launch of Inklore which was estimated for the spring.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #anon ask me anything #anon ama #ama #ask me anything

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charmandabear · 11 months ago

Text

Office Hours - Chapter Three

Summary:

Astarion surprises you by inviting you to his place... for a real date? The evening doesn't go as expected when you uncover the darkness in his past.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.4k Tags/Warnings: mentions of Astarion's past, vampire bites, blood drinking, blow job, p in v sex, fluff with a very small side of angst, Shadowheart being a bit of a manic pixie dream best friend

Since y'all are insistent on encouraging my worst tendencies, here, have the longest single thing I've ever written. I think about Professor Astarion at all waking (and sleeping at this point) hours. I have other things planned, I will eventually write something else, I promise. But also... this one is now becoming a full-fledged multi-chapter fic. I'm half-considering rewriting the first few chapters so it's in third-person? I don't know though, let me know what you think.

H1ghVoltage and Zaria were both invaluable betas for this one, I appreciate you both so much. And Zaria for always providing the most perfect screenshots at the drop of a hat. This literally would not exist without you.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“Excuse me? The one you’re always going on about?” Shadowheart’s eyebrows disappear into her platinum bangs as she tucks her feet underneath her, holding up her wine glass so it doesn’t spill. The two of you met while moving into adjacent apartments a few years prior; it turned out you had both just been hired at the university, her at the Divinity School and you at the College of Arts and Sciences. Since then you’ve become fast friends, and you’re finally filling her in on all of the details of the whirlwind that has been the past few days. You hide your chagrin behind a sip of wine.

“Okay, listen, yes, but hear me out. He looks like this.” You hold out your phone and show her the English department faculty page.

“Oh. Oh,” she says in a low tone as her eyes study the screen. “Okay, you didn’t tell me that.”

“I think I was in denial,” you whine as you drop your head onto the couch cushion. “I focused on how much of an asshole he is to distract me from how hot he is.”

“And now? Will you see him again?” She tosses your phone at your feet and you lift your gaze.

“I don’t know? He made a joke about having sex in my office but I don’t think he actually meant it.” You cast a sidelong glance at Shadowheart, trying to gauge her expression.

“Scandalous,” she smiles into the rim of her glass before taking a long sip. You pick up your phone, looking at his portrait. It looks like a candid photo but it’s very clearly composed. He’s sitting pitched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He’s looking off to the side and his brow is furrowed like he’s engaged in vigorous academic debate. It’s wildly pretentious.

You drop your phone again and angrily sip at your wine, letting the dry red flood over your tongue and coat the inside of your mouth. You notice Shadowheart eyeing you suspiciously.

“Do you want to?” she asks, and you put your glass onto the coffee table and curl your knees into your chest further.

“I… I don’t know? Like obviously the sex is good. Really good,” you add under your breath, and Shadowheart looks at you salaciously as your cheeks flush. “But whenever he says more than five words I want to gouge my eyes out.”

“Is that really how you feel, or have you just convinced yourself to feel that way?” she carefully asks. You glare at her, but you can't bring yourself to disagree. You drop your less-than-menacing expression and cover your face in your hands. You let out an exasperated sigh before suddenly gasping and looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Nine hells, did I tell you what else happened? At least one student knows. I saw her coming out of his office and she made some comment about ‘We all see how you look at him.’” You flop onto your side, burying your face in the couch cushion once again.

“Well, I suppose that answers your question, at least,” Shadowheart says reassuringly, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean if you like him enough that your students are noticing, then you have to pursue him. The worst that’ll happen is you’ll break up and you can go back to hating him.” She’s awfully nonchalant about having just described a literal nightmare.

“Excuse me, how is that possibly meant to make me feel better?” you gape at her.

“At least you get a good shagging out of the deal, right?” she grins at you, and her teeth are tinged purple from the wine. You kick your foot out at her.

“Man, we need to get you laid, don’t we?” you tease and she groans.

“Listen, you just told me that you got railed twice in three days, it’s not that good out here for most of us.” Now it’s her turn to cover her face and you laugh. You pick up your wine and stretch your legs out to nudge Shadowheart’s calf.

“Who knows, maybe there’s some hot chick in the English department that he can hook you up with.” She pushes your leg back and rolls her eyes.

“Absolutely not, English academics are the worst.”

***

You have no idea what to expect when you inevitably run into Astarion the next day. You're tempted to just work from home since you don’t have any classes, but you have another damn season selection committee meeting that you can't miss, and you'd rather be around for students to drop in if they need to.

You're on your way to the bathroom at the end of the day when you finally see him. You almost don't, at first, since you're looking down at your phone and you stop short of barrelling into him. You lock eyes and smile politely, then step to your left just as he steps to his right. You two share an awkward laugh just as it happens again in the opposite direction. After another few seconds of uncomfortable shuffling, he takes you by your shoulders and moves you to the side. You give him a thankful grin and quickly move past, trying to ignore the burning in your cheeks and the way your arms tingle where he touched you.

You get to the bathroom and close the door behind you, leaning against it to brace yourself. Your stomach is roiling, though whether it was from the embarrassment, the insatiable lust, or something else entirely, you can't quite tell. You turn on the faucet and splash your face with cool water. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to will yourself into stoicism. It's a losing battle as the image of him having you bent over the sink pops into your mind. You shake your head, trying to think of something else, but that only makes it worse.

He’s pressed you up against the bathroom door and he's got your wrists pinned together above your head.

No, stop, you scold yourself. But the second you banish that image another one comes flooding in, your leg draped over his shoulder as he’s lightly sucking your clit with his fingers curled inside you.

You're dizzy with the mental image and you try to wrest it from your mind. You focus on the visual stimuli around you, the white tile, the fluorescent lights, the small blue stain beneath the soap dispenser. Eventually you find yourself back in your body and you massage your temples, trying to focus.

Your head is still reeling slightly as you make your way back to your office. You unlock the door, completely unaware of his presence behind you until you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. You yelp and in an instant he’s towering over you with your back up against the wall.

“Almighty gods, Astarion,” you swear breathlessly, your heart pounding more from the scare than the proximity for once. The proximity doesn’t help, however, when he tilts your chin with his knuckle and smiles devilishly.

“Come to my place, let me cook you dinner,” he purrs, and your breath quickens. But when his words finally break through the seductive tone, something in your brain stops.

“Wait, cook? Can you- do you even- how-” You still haven’t fully recovered and your mouth struggles to form words. His smile widens and you know he’s enjoying watching you splutter.

“What, do you think in all of my 350 years I've never bedded a mortal? Besides,” he trails his hand down your neck and strokes it gently with his thumb, sending a shiver down your spine, “I have other ways of getting my fill.”

You instinctively tilt your head for him, almost like you’re inviting him to bite right here and now. You manage to recoup your senses just enough to quip, “I’m sure you have plenty of experience luring cute mortals back to your place.”

You think you see his jaw tighten for a fraction of a second, but it’s gone before you can be sure.

“I’ll take it as a yes, then?” He pulls away and adjusts his glasses, his fingers sliding into his hair. You nod, not trusting the words to come out of your mouth. He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and tucks it into the neckline of your shirt, a move that would have been unbearably corny coming from anyone else.

“See you then… lover.” He winks and glides out of the room as silently as he came in. You take a breath to steady yourself, a voice in the back of your head grumbling because of how much he has you wrapped around his finger. But admittedly, he seemed equally flustered when you almost plowed into him a few minutes ago.

Maybe not the best choice of words.

You pull the piece of paper out to see an address, date, and time. Tomorrow at 7.

Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.

Now you just need to occupy yourself for the next 26 hours and not completely lose your nerve.

***

Occupying yourself isn’t terribly difficult with Shadowheart around. She keeps you busy all day with various errands, shopping, anything to keep you from spiraling.

Nevertheless, when it’s finally time to get dressed, you find yourself overthinking every tiny element. You stand frozen in front of your open underwear drawer trying to decide between the black lace or the pink satin.

“Shadowheeeaaaarrrrrtttt,” you call out to her in the other room. She pops her head in and gives you a pitying smile as she sees your anxiety-ridden face.

“Alright, sit, let me help,” she clinks her glass down on your dresser and nudges you until you’re sitting on your bed, fidgeting with the belt of your robe.

“Black lace, it’s sexier,” she says sagely, tossing the panties at you and you slide them on under your robe. She pulls the plaid skirt out of the shopping bag and flings it onto the bed.

“Put that on because we both agreed it’s adorable. It might be warm enough to go without tights?” she muses, then glances at you mischievously. “And since he has a track record of destroying those, maybe go with these instead.” She throws a pair of thigh highs at you and they hit you in the face. You wrinkle your nose.

“Careful,” you warn, but she ignores you. She floats over to your closet and sifts through the hangers. She pulls out a top, shifts her gaze between you and the garment a few times, then drops it on the floor. After another moment of searching, she pulls out a blousy cardigan, throwing it on the bed next to you.

“Don’t put that on yet, I’ll be right back.” She disappears before you can say anything. You’re left sitting on your bed in just your bra and skirt, and you rub your feet together with a restless energy.

Shadowheart returns just a few minutes later holding a lacy top that reads more as lingerie than an actual shirt. She returns your skeptical frown with a giant grin.

“Shade, I'm not wearing that,” you gripe, and she throws it in your face.

“Put it on before you judge,” she chides in response, and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, but it probably won't fit,” you say as you take off your bra and don the sheer v-neck cami. Other than straining around your chest slightly, the fit is fine. You put on the oversized cardigan over it and look at the full effect in your floor length mirror.

“See, told you,” she says smugly as you admire your reflection. And it's true, the underwear-as-outerwear really does bring the look from glorified schoolgirl cosplay into something a bit more refined. You give her a disgruntled sidelong glance but otherwise say nothing.

“Alright, get going. Go put your shoes on and chase that Ph D.” She pushes you out of your bedroom and towards the front door of your apartment. “Don't worry about me, I'll be here drinking your wine and masturbating all by myself while you get fucked through the end of the tenday.”

You slip on your black suede ankle boots and pleadingly look at Shadowheart one more time. You're still not convinced that this whole thing isn’t just a trip into the lion’s den.

“Go! I look forward to hearing all the gory details,” she says and plants a smooch on your cheek. She then smacks your ass as you head out the door, your yelp earning a satisfied smirk.

Sure enough, when you find yourself outside his apartment door, you can feel your cold feet catching up with you. You're about to take out your phone and text Shadowheart that you're going to leave when his door opens.

“Hello, beautiful,” he croons, and the syrup in his voice makes your mouth go dry. The sleeves of his white button down are rolled up and the first few buttons are undone, leaving his collarbone exposed. The black vest tapers in his waist and flows seamlessly into his well-tailored trousers. But the first thing you notice is his glasses.

“Your glasses are different,” you blurt, internally cursing your bluntness. His eyebrows pop up above the thicker plastic frames.

“Is that a problem?” he asks without a hint of malice in his voice. You blush and quickly shake your head.

“No I- I like them. They look good,” you stutter, looking away from the heat of his gaze. He smiles and takes your hand almost like he's leading you in a courtly dance, pulling you inside.

You look around his apartment, noticing the similarities to the hominess of his office. Big overfull bookshelves, warm-lit lamps dotted around the space, papers and other junk littered across every surface. It still surprises you that he doesn’t keep a tidy space, but at the same time you find it oddly charming.

You spot a hairless cat sitting on some mail on a table in the corner, delicately licking its paw.

“Aww, who’s this?” You approach the cat, holding out your hand for it to sniff. It hisses in response and you take a step back.

“That's His Majesty, and you're best to respect his wishes,” Astarion calls from the kitchen.

“You named your cat His Majesty?” you ask, trying to suppress the laugh bubbling in your throat.

“No, he named himself His Majesty,” he replies, returning from the kitchen with a spoonful of risotto. “Taste,” he commands and you obediently open your mouth. The steaming food coats your tongue with a tangy, savory taste. You nod at him, barely trusting yourself to speak. It tastes incredible.

You turn back to His Majesty, and you notice an empty potion of animal speaking tipped on its side near him.

“Well I'll just admire such a handsome creature from a distance, then,” you say and His Majesty preens slightly. You can hear a hum of approval from Astarion as he retreats back into the kitchen.

This man is full of contradictions. Pristine, clean cut outward appearance with a cluttered, disorganized space. Cool and disaffected, but he loves his cat enough to use potions to communicate with him. He doesn't need to eat, but somehow he’s an incredible cook? You frown to yourself; it feels like something doesn't add up.

You start scanning one of the bookshelves, wondering what else you can learn about him. If there was an organizational system, it wasn't clear. 48 Laws of Power, History of Modern Sexuality, On the Genealogy of Morality, Gender Trouble… Ayn Rand sitting next to Octavia Butler?

What the fuck does he like?

“How is my collection of books holding up in your estimation?” Astarion’s sudden presence behind you makes you jump. He presses a wine glass into your hand and ghosts his lips across the crook of your neck, sending a swath of goosebumps down your arms.

“Did I tell you that you look absolutely delicious?” he murmurs into your skin, and you can already feel yourself getting lightheaded.

“You're one to talk,” you say on a dizzied exhale, and the breath from his laugh tickles your shoulder. He puts his hands on your waist, running a finger along the inside of the waistband of your skirt. He gives it a gentle tug and you unconsciously move in the direction he’s pulling.

“Come eat,” he says, guiding you to a table with one place setting. You sit, feeling awkward as he sits across from you, a wine glass in his hand.

“Are you just going to watch me eat?” you laugh nervously. He smiles into the glass, glancing at you above the rectangular frames sliding down his nose.

“Well if you're insistent, I can have my dinner as well.” He's not subtle about leering at your neck, sparking a flicker of heat in your belly. You distract yourself by taking another bite of the risotto, which somehow tastes even better than what he fed you before.

“So what do you experience when you have… food?” you ask, trying to shift his attention off you eating. He looks up as he thinks, and you find your gaze tracing his jawline.

“It’s… sour. Like it’s spoiled. But when something is cooked well, and with high quality ingredients, it’s more bearable.”

You look down at your food, the taste dancing across your palette. It's certainly better than something you could make for yourself. But you know so little about cooking techniques besides the basics that you don’t know what the difference would even be.

“And you're drinking wine. What does that taste like?” You try not to stare at the dark red liquid collecting on his lips, but it’s hard not to when his tongue darts out to lick it up.

“Alcohol has a higher threshold for quality, so it's generally more palatable. It usually means a higher budget for these things, but it's not as though I'm spending much on groceries.” He narrows his eyes at you, but you can't read his expression.

“Well go on,” he continues, and you tilt your head in confusion. “Ask the question that you really want to ask.” Your heart starts beating a little faster and he smirks. Gods, you really hate that he can read you like that. It would be nice to keep at least one emotion private.

“What does blood taste like?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it's clear that he hears you. His smile widens just enough to show off his fangs.

“It depends on the person,” he replies just as casually as if you had asked him about his taste in music. “Some are sweeter, like a nice rich port, while others have a bit of a burn, like whiskey. However, you?” He places his glass on the table and stands, and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. He crosses behind your chair and sweeps your hair to the side, lasciviously inhaling your scent behind your ear, eliciting a shiver.

“Yours is smooth with a hint of spice, like a fine aged brandy. But the finish has an addictive quality, like absinthe.” He nips lightly at the base of your neck without breaking skin.

“Such pretty words,” you exhale on a breathy moan, reaching a hand up behind you and running your fingers through his hair, pulling him toward you ever so slightly.

“Is that what you want?” he breathes into your ear, and you arch your back in your seat, panting. You can barely get out the “yes” before he sweeps you out of the chair and wraps your legs around his waist. He carries you into the kitchen, placing you on the counter and pressing your knees apart with his torso. You whine and the cool tile pressing into your ass reminds you of his touch. He slides one hand behind your head and the other around your waist, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

The initial pain surprises you every time, and your yelp is followed by his satisfied groan. You grip the back of his neck as he drinks, and you can feel the muscles working with each swallow. The feeling of your blood coursing through both of your bodies gets you high, knowing it's your blood that flushes his lips, cheeks, and ears. It's your blood flowing to his cock. The reminder of it makes you clench instinctively.

He pulls away just as you're teetering on the edge of passing out. He’s always panting after he feeds, his glasses slightly askew and a ravenous look in his eye that makes your mouth water. You pull him into a heated kiss, the metallic tang on his lips becoming a sensory reminder of the post-feeding bliss.

You pull him closer with your feet, aching just to feel him pressed against you. Your hands scramble against his back, tugging at his collared shirt. He’s wearing far too many layers and he hasn’t even blessed you with the sight of his gorgeous sculpted chest yet.

You slide a hand into the back of his collar, desperate for his skin, when your fingers brush over thick raised scar tissue. He pulls back faster than you do and your hands immediately go to cover your mouth.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t–” you begin but the pained look in his eye makes you stop short.

“No it's… it's fine. I've had those for a very long time. I… ah…” he stutters, adjusting his glasses uncomfortably, and you've never seen him so flummoxed.

“What are they from?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You're about to retract, tell him he doesn't need to answer, when he speaks quietly.

“They're from… the man who turned me. He kept me as a slave for 200 years. It’s something written in infernal, but I never found out what it said. And his death ensured I never would.” He speaks while looking down at the floor, his distant gaze indicating that he's somewhere else entirely.

“Astarion…” you breathe, and you cup his face in your hands. He smirks and snakes his arms around your waist; the mask is back on.

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” he says with a composed smile, “it was a very long time ago. I’m more concerned with tonight.” He moves to kiss your neck again but you put your hand against his chest to stop him.

“No- well, I mean yes to tonight, but… let me take care of you,” you say softly, and his careful expression slips again.

“I- well if that’s what you want.” He crinkles his brow, unsure of what to make of your proposal.

“Is it what you want?” You stroke his cheek, and it suddenly feels like this is an entirely different man standing in front of you. Hesitant, vulnerable, his usual swaggering confidence replaced with an uncertain tenderness that makes your heart pound in a way that feels wholly unfamiliar with him.

“I’m not sure,” he says, his voice dropping to just above a whisper.

“We don’t have to,” you offer quickly, “we can just fuck up against a wall or something.” The joke breaks the tension and he lets out a little giggle.

“What do you have in mind?” He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, and you ease off the counter and gently nudge him backwards toward his bedroom. He follows your lead, his doubtful look shifting into something of excitement and mischief. You guide him until the back of his knees hit the bed, and you push him to sit.

You straddle his lap and run your fingers through his silvery curls. You kiss along his jawline and down his neck, placing a particularly tender kiss on his bite scar. He exhales heavily, sliding his hands up your thighs and resting them on your lower back.

You begin carefully unbuttoning his vest, followed by his shirt, untucking the hem from his pants. You slide it down his shoulders and onto the bed behind him, letting your warm hands run over the cool planes of his skin. His eyes follow your movements carefully and you take your time, tracing over every divet, every freckle and mole. You delight in his gasp when your fingers dance over his navel and down to his belt buckle.

You slip off his lap and drop between his legs, your hands continuing their journey along his hips. You plant increasingly hungry kisses above his waistband as you remove his belt and unzip his pants. He leans back on his hands as his breathing quickens, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

You’re struck with the irony that the last time you were between Astarion’s legs like this it was to get revenge, to make him feel flustered and speechless the way he always does to you. Now you have him, flustered and speechless, and all you want is to worship him, make him feel warm and safe.

You slide his pants down under his ass, pulling them all the way off so he’s sitting on his bed fully nude. You run your lips along his inner thigh as you palm his growing erection.

“Ah- wait,” he stammers and you immediately look up and pull back.

“Yes?” you ask, frozen by the fear that you’ve gone too far.

“I want to see you,” he whispers, nudging your cardigan off your shoulder. “All of you.”

It’s hard to believe that someone sitting naked in front of you can make you feel so exposed. You shiver as you drop the cardigan off your back, the sudden exposure to cool air making your nipples poke through the lacy top that Shadowheart gave you. You stand and he watches intently as you unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a pool at your feet. His expression gives little away, but his cock doesn’t. By the time you’ve removed the black panties, thigh highs, and cami, it stands at full attention. His knees squeeze around your legs and his arms pull you in close to him, pressing his nose against your belly. You card your fingers through his hair and down to his chin, tilting his head upwards.

“Better?” you breathe, and he nods, his eyes round and wide. You bend down to kiss him, slow and languid, before dropping to your knees again. When you pull away his mouth stays open, suspended in the shape of your kiss.

You settle between his knees and lightly kiss the head of his dick. You flick your gaze upward, monitoring his expression as you lazily run your fingers along his shaft. His glasses balance on the tip of his nose as he looks down at you, transfixed by your ministrations. You open your lips slightly, not quite taking him into your mouth yet as you softly cup his balls in your hand. You can hear his breath growing ragged, and he rewards you with an almost inaudible moan when your tongue finally wets his cock.

You wrap your lips around his tip, gently working the underside with your tongue. You run your hands up his thighs, squeezing his hips as they buck into you. You take more of him in, the warmth of your mouth contrasting with the cool, sensitive skin. He groans and tangles his fingers in your hair, a gesture that feels closer to petting than pulling.

You pull your mouth off his cock, wrapping your hand around the now slick shaft. You run your thumb along the slit, and his responding shutter makes you smile.

“Ah- enjoying yourself?” he murmurs, unable to keep his voice steady. You look up at him and drag your tongue along his entire length.

“I am, are you?” you hum, taking him back into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the tip. His leg quivers beside you, his toes curling inward.

“Mmph,” he grunts in assent, his hand twisting into your hair a little more. You slip your hands under his thighs and slide your mouth further down, letting him fill you up. His hips jerk, wanting to thrust into you, and you relax your jaw to let him. His little pants and disjointed moans send a jolt of heat down to your core, and you can feel yourself becoming wet with desire for him.

You reach down and slip your middle finger between your slick folds, your groan vibrating into him. He hisses and pulls you off his cock and into a fierce kiss. The two of you tumble backwards onto the bed, your hair encircling you like a curtain. You press your bodies together, the smoldering heat spreading into a raging wildfire. He lines himself up with your entrance as you continue your desperate assault on his lips. He slides in with ease and your cry into his mouth accompanies him bottoming out.

You push yourself up, bracing yourself on his chest as you grind into him. He plants his hands on your hips, thrusting up into you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your hair cascading down the length of your back. You increase the pace of your rolling hips, each breath growing more voiced as you approach your peak.

“Oh gods, Astarion,” you babble, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer. He realizes you’re getting close, he sits up and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him tight. He latches onto your nipple, flicking his tongue and sucking to send your pleasure to staggering heights. You arch your back into him as your arms hook over his shoulders, brushing your hands against those awful scars. Your hands splay across his back as if to say no one will ever hurt you like that again.

You pull his face to yours so that you can taste his lips as you crash over the edge. The kiss is broken up by your cries and you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, his grunts in time with his pulsing seed. You stay still and connected as the waves of pleasure ebb and flow and finally settle. The only noise left in the room is both of your heavy panting, and the telltale sound of just your heart pounding.

His hands slide down your back as you carefully pull yourself off him and you shiver as his now-soft cock falls out of you. You kneel next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, and he reaches over to stroke your jaw.

“Thank you,” he hums softly, and you press another sweet kiss to his neck. His scar.

After a moment you let out a contented sigh, then you say, “Well, I should probably gather my things and go, then.” You begin to stand to dress, but his hand closes around your wrist. You turn to him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“Or you could… stay. If you want.” He looks up at you through smudged and sweaty glasses and a smile tugs at your lips.

“What do you want?” you ask, and you watch him shift uncomfortably with a question that he’s not used to answering.

“I want…” he begins, hesitant. “I want to watch last year’s Globe production of Much Ado About Nothing with you. You said you like that one, right?” Your ears grow hot as you realize the extent to which he actually paid attention to you, even before you were sleeping together.

“I do, yeah. One of his best,” you say, your voice cracking slightly as you repeat his words back to him. That interaction feels like it was eons ago, when in fact it was less than a tenday.

He smirks, some of his confident charm seeping back into his demeanor. He scoots back on the bed until he’s resting against the headboard, and then he reaches out to you, inviting you to curl in next to him. You oblige, and he turns on the TV across from the bed, pulling up the pro-shot. You sink in next to him, appreciating how his chest cools your flushed cheek.

A single word gnaws at the back of your mind and you banish it quickly.

No, that’s the oxytocin talking.

It’s just been a long time since you’ve slept with someone more than once.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and the gnawing grows more insistent.

…

Fuck.

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mamawardentotherescue · 1 month ago

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Okay, so I've slept and gathered my thoughts more and I'm going to explain why I don't like da:v (because some of you have assumed a lot about me and my relationship with the series)

First off, I have been in love with dragon age since I was 13/14 and have been obsessed with it for 12 years. It was my muse for writing and creating art; I read every book I could get my hands on and lived on the wiki and forums for everything else; when I got my first pay check I bought the lore books (which was hard to find in Australia). When I was depressed or so lonely my heart felt like it would burst, I would come back to the companions I would call friends. This game saved me from killing myself more times than I could count.

I have loved this game series for all it's writing and lore - the good, the bad, and the ugly. So, for me to be upset and disappointed in this game is not to be taken lightly.

Straight up, da:v felt wrong (I'm not going to mention why I don't like the inquisitor creator because I feel like at this point you should know why). They launch you straight into the middle of a plan your character has apparently known all along, but it left me feeling confused. I had so many questions! It's been 8 years since Trespasser, 10 years since the beginning of Inquisition and 20 for Origins; a lot has changed and I want to know what's happened in thedas since I've been away because I've invested a lot of time with that world, regardless of whether or not you respect my input on the world building...but the writing doesn't care about that.

I had a constant thought of "they're trying to recreate Mass Effect but have forgotten why people play Dragon Age, and they're not even respecting ME while they do it" and the more hours I put in to this game the more obvious this became.

"But MamaWarden, it looks so pretty and the combat is fun!" I hear you say, and yes, I do agree. The game was built really well in comparison to past games, but good hair isn't a good enough distraction from shit writing and a lack of respect for the series.

Before finishing the game I would often say that the best part about the game was the companions. They felt familiar and I enjoyed what I had with them but wished I had more. I was prepared to stick with that until they made me choose between Harding or Davrin (and Assan)...

Let me explain very simply why I fucking hated this:

1. It was another "look at us trying to be Mass Effect" moment but done shittily

2. Feels sus to say the least to pin Harding, the first female dwarf we've been allowed to romance and have a pre-existing relationship with (as the player), against Davrin, the first black elf we've encountered that wasn't just an OC of the player

3. Doesn't matter if you complete their companion quests, gain max approval and send what I would argue the "right" one to survive to a mission, only to have that person die because they were the other group's leader

As soon as it happened and the companion (I felt like I was forced to choose because I was romancing the other) was killed, I felt like nothing mattered. Again, it felt like someone tried to recreate the OG ME trilogy into one game but completely misunderstood what made those games ironically heart wrenching. I wasn't given a choice where I knowingly sacrificed a companion the way they did with Ashley and Kaiden, I was instead given a "who do you think will be best for the job?"

You might think it's a taste or preference thing, but it's not. It's a "dragon age has followed a particular pattern that's different to mass effect but now they've subverted expectations" type of thing. I might be autistic, but doesn't that bother you?

I hated that unless you were romancing Solas, your inquisitor really doesn't matter much to the story. I hated that your Lavellan felt like she was reduced to an additional underling to Solas instead of being his equal. I hated that characters like Mae, Dorian, Isabela and the Inquisitor had NOTHING to say about Varric, regardless of whether everyone knew the truth about him or not. I hated that bioware spewed "no unnecessary cameos" but barely used the old companions for anything useful outside of Varric and Solas pushing the story. I hated that shit is blowing up in the south of thedas but it feels like no one cares except for me, the player who has spent literal years invested into Ferelden and neighbouring countries.

Nothing felt like it mattered and that's the worst part of all of this. That might the intended meta commentary but fucking save it for a different game. This series has always been about hope in times of darkness, but this game feels like it cheapened that ideal and abused it so they can give this half-baked "morally grey" shit of a story and expect us to eat it

#in conclusion: fuck you ea and fuck you bioware #i fucking defended bioware for years but the “perfectly polished” looking game with subpar plot and lore really has made it clear #dragon age #dragon age critical

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artist-ellen · 7 months ago

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Housekeeping Updates!

So just in case you don't know Meta has made the decision to start scraping everything anyone posts to their new AI. There isn't really a way to opt out either. In some countries you can lodge a formal complaint, but even that doesn't mean your photos or art won't be used despite your wishes.

In a twist no one could have seen coming (sarcasm)... people are leaving or deleting their work. Many artists are going to Cara, an app that is still in Beta mode. I opened an account there as well but am unsure yet if I will post regularly to. I will most likely post my 'official portfolio' there but I don't know if there will be people who aren't artists on the site. So as an art venture it would be great... but on the hopes of connecting with my existing audience? To be seen or shared to people who might commission me? The odds aren't so good.

Lots of decisions to make I'm afraid. At the moment I will be posting my regular content here on Tumblr and to my Patreon (I've had it for years but wasn't using it actively, shout out to the two people who stayed following me over there, you're the coolest). But I won't be posting regularly to Instagram like I was. In fact I've decided to actively delete most of my art from Instagram. And since I can't count on Tumblr to house and categorize and find all that work from over the past four years I've decided to effectively use Patreon as my Archive.

All day I've been copying over my old posts to Patreon, and setting them up in a schedule so they will post once a day for... a very long time. I've barely moved a 100 redesign posts over and I'm into February next year... it's a slow and slightly monotonous process but I think it will be worth it! So if you want to relive my original redesigns on a daily basis they are over at my Patreon. I've set nearly all of them to "all members" so you don't have to be on the paid tier to see them. Only some the oldest/first draft redesigns and some behind the scene screenshots will be for my 'Support System' <3

I am looking into glazing and what not but they have to reply to a DM? or something odd like that so I'm looking at various options while I figure things out. Will this crush my tiny art business? Maybe. Will I do this in protest anyway? Yeah. F Meta. (Holds in tirade about the state of megacorporations owning our data)

TLDR: Meta wants everybody to feed their ai for free, I'm removing posts from IG and archiving them onto my Patreon for all members. I'm still going to be posting on tumblr.

xoxoxo

#ellenart #ellen artistic #screw meta with a spikey baseball bat #patreon #coloring books #things won't really change here #my IG will be cleaned out #and will be more about my business stuff #rather than art

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cellythefloshie · 1 year ago

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;; Mama Bear Dedicated to myself. Because this has been my passion project.

Summary: With her son Parker set to skate in his first NHL game with the Boston Bruins, Katherine Stacy travels to Boston. When her plans are derailed by her ex-husband, Katherine is forced to spend a night on the town alone where she meets Jeremy who is more than willing to show her a good time. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (22 v. 40). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. One Night Stand. Oral Sex - Fem Receiving. Mirror Reflection. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: N/A. Boston Bruin's Rookie. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 12k+

A/N: Would you believe me if I said that this fic was 4 months in the making? @hagelpoint-3821 and @hockeyboysimagines -- I do not know how you have put up with me teasing this fic for so long. This fic is one that ignited a fire of excitement in me, and to be able to share that excitement with the two of you is something I will always appreciate. You both know that this fic could have easily become a full length novel - and I did have to cut back on this things to assure I could get this out before the new year. I won't have to but you guys with persistent updates about the progress anymore! Thank you so much for your ongoing support and encouragement. With that said, this fic is not going to appeal to everyone. It is unlike anything I have written before, and is unlike anything I have seen in this community before. So please consider liking and relogging if you enjoy, and if doesn't end up being your cup of tea - thank you for giving it a shot. And please note that I did not do a full edit of this fic. I will be editing any mistakes I see upon rereads. I hope you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As a woman traveling alone, there was one thing Katherine Stacy made sure to do: she created a detailed itinerary. Everything from her flights to hotel check-in times and the sights she was planning to see in the great city of Boston were listed in detail on two neatly organized pages. And she made sure to print 3 copies. One for herself, that she carried in her black Kate Spade purse. One for her ex-husband, Ronnie, who was meant to join her on her trip. And the last, for her best friend, Dottie, who remained back home in Toronto - but was the one person she knew she could count on if something did not go according to plan.

Which was why, as Katie called her from her dimly lit hotel room in the middle of the day - when she was supposed to be touring the Museum of Fine Arts - Dottie answered with such urgency you would have thought her home was on fire. Her mass of blonde curls was the first thing you could see when she answered the video call. They fell into her face that was too close to the screen, her words rushed so close together they slurred into one. “What’sgoingon?Whyisitsodark?Thisisnottheartmuseum.”

Katie propped her phone up against her suitcase, the camera obstructed by the bag’s handle as she rushed to get one of the lights, a string of apologies leaving her lips. When she returned to the end of her bed, she fixed the camera just right before her hands dipped into her bag and she continued to unpack her belongings and store them away in the hotel room’s dresser. It was only then, with her hands busy and a heavy breath rocking her shoulders, that Katie told Dottie why she was calling.

“He brought her.”

That was all Dottie needed to hear for her eyes to be sent wide in disbelief, “He. Did. Not.” Dottie was always nothing short of eccentric and supportive, but that support only had grown stronger since Katie’s divorce. And since Ronnie started dating again.

Not even a year into their separation before their divorce was finalized, he had started dating Monica. A beautiful, blonde, twenty-something, esthetician from Etoboike who had weaseled her way into the Waylon family before Katie could even realize what was happening. Which included joining Ronnie on their trip to Boston. Which was supposed to be just the two of them. One where they were coming together as parents to celebrate the success of their son, Parker Waylon-Stacy, who was set to play his first game in the NHL the next evening.

Worst of all, he hadn’t told her she was coming. Monica had been a nasty surprise when she met him at The Westland for lunch. Katie knew the young woman could see the shock all over her face when she spotted her, and while her attendance was an unpleasant surprise, she had tried to be civil. Yet, Katie could only tolerate so much.

So she canceled their dinner reservations at the Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar and did not make her planned trip to the art museum. Instead, she had taken a taxi back to the Courtyard by Marriott where she was staying for her short visit in Boston. What she was going to do now, she didn’t know, but Katie knew she needed to call Dottie.

“I knew you should have just come with me Dot-”

Dottie cut in, her words strained by her frustration. “I would have ripped his testicles off with my bare hands-”

“Dot!”

“What?” Dottie was taken back, her brows furrowed.

“He’s allowed to be dating, we aren’t married.” She and Ronnie hadn’t been together since their son had turned sixteen. That was almost two years ago now, and Katie didn’t miss a single minute of being married to him. She never would.

“But this trip was supposed to be a family trip,” Dottie reminded, her hand coming up to run over her face with a sigh, “for Parker.”

“Well,” Katie chewed at the inside of her cheek, her hand coming up to push her long red hair back out of her face, “he’s marrying her.”

All Katie could hear was a long, low growl of a no, the video call going dark as Dottie either dropped the phone face down onto a surface or accidentally turned her camera off at the shock of the news. When the sight of her returned, her hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide.

“You should have seen her ring,” Katie told her, her hands wringing the fabric of one of her blouses in her hands like a wet rag, “it was, wow.”

The band was gold, and the diamond was big. Bigger than what she had on her engagement ring and wedding band combined. It was so big it was almost gaudy and hard to miss. It was eye-catching with every single one of Monica’s movements, and all Katie could think of at the sight of it was: Does Parker know?

It was a question that haunted her as she put down her blouse, pulled her pajamas from the bottom of her bag, and began to undress with little care that Dottie was still on the other end of the call. They had been friends since middle school. There was little Dottie hadn’t seen or didn’t know.

“Whoa, whoa,” Dottie spoke, the shock fading at the sight of Katie stripping out of her jeans, “what are you doing?”

Katie stepped out of her jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor as she held her satin bottoms in her hand, “Turning in?”

“NO, you aren’t going to let that selfish prick ruin this trip for you,” Dottie spoke in a firm tone, her finger pointing right into the lens of her camera.

“What am I supposed to do, Dottie?” Katie sighed, throwing up her hands in defeat and accidentally throwing her pajamas across the room, “I’m just going to order room service and watch some paper view-”

“No, no. You’re going to go out and enjoy yourself.”

A sigh rocked through Katie’s entire body, her hand falling into her hands as she fought back a frustrated sob. She’s a divorced mother in a city she doesn’t know. Her son was off with his teammates doing god knows what on a team-building outing. Her ex-husband was off celebrating his engagement. And she was alone.

Hot tears pricked at green eyes in the shadow of her hands, but Katie didn’t let them fall. Deep, heavy breaths from years of hiding her frustrations with her husband kept them at bay, but Dottie noticed. She always noticed.

Which was why her voice had softened when she spoke again, “Show me what’s in your suitcase?”

“My suitcase?” Katie croaked out, her hands coming down to rest against the pale freckles skin of her thighs.

“Yes, your suitcase.”

Stepping forward, Katie took her phone in her hold and flipped her camera around for Dottie to see. The suitcase was mostly empty now, save for the jacket she had packed at the bottom. The rest of her clothes she had tucked away in the dresser drawers. She had packed just enough clothes to last the three-day trip. Her main outfit was a pair of jeans, boots, and a t-shirt she planned to wear under a jersey to the hockey game the following night. Everything else was meant to be worn during sightseeing, or on the flight home. And every bit of it was practical.

“No, no, love. Why do you do this to yourself?” Dottie sighed, her shoulder slouching forward. Dottie, herself, was a bit of a fashionista. She always wore the latest trends and was always seen in the brightest colors. Because, well, Dottie liked to be seen. “Where is the sext shit we bought last time we went out?”

“Back home?” Katie spoke in more of a question, her brow raising as if where it was wasn’t already obvious. “I wasn’t coming out here intending to seduce my ex-husband, Dot.”

“You’re in Boston, Katie! A city full of eligible bachelors you can forget about the moment you fly home.”

“Dot-”

“When was the last time you got laid, Katie?”

Her stomach sunk, her mouth going dry at the question. Dottie already knew the answer to that question, but she was trying to use it to motivate her now, even if Katie hated it when she did that.

“You would have heard about it if it happened.”

“You’ve been divorced for over a year, Katie - separated for two. It’s time to ditch the vibrator.”

Katie let out a long, frustrated huff, fighting the urge to toss her phone onto the pillow. She knew exactly where this was going. “I’m not using that stupid dating app-”

Tinder. Bumble. Plenty of Fish. Hinge. If it was a dating app, she was on it, and failing miserably at it. Dottie’s daughter, Megan, had set her up with the accounts. Helped her pick every flattering picture and even wrote her biography to cater to the current dating scene. And it had only led her to two types of people, men just like her husband who were divorced and looking for their next way to mother them, or were young men - too young for her to comfortably consider - with mommy issues. And both had gifted her far too many unsolicited pictures of their cocks.

Just the thought of opening the app made her want to gag.

“Then don’t,” Dottie spoke, her tone assuring and not forceful. “Just do this one thing for yourself. Go buy a nice dress and a pair of underwear that haven’t seen postpartum. Something sexy. Something to make you feel confident, and go out to dinner. Take yourself out. Hell, even if it’s just the hotel bar. Get a drink and try to have a little fun. For me.”

Dottie dipped her chin down and pouted her lips. Growing up, it was always how Dottie had gotten her way, and sometimes it still worked. Just like it had then.

“Fine.”

“Good, now, I gotta go,” she spoke, and her screen was suddenly a rush of color as she was on the move, “The twins have a game tonight.”

Dottie was a mother of three. Megan, 18, the same as Parker, was off at university, but the twins were only 12. And had a very extensive hockey schedule to maintain, which kept Dottie’s schedule busy and her hands full.

“Alright, alright, I won’t keep you,” Katie waved her hand at the phone casually, “Tell Brandon and Brayden Auntie Katie is cheering for them-”

“Don’t think this gets you off the hook,” Dottie added quickly, “I want a selfie of you looking sexy at the bar. Love you. Kisses!”

Shopping alone was something Katie loathed. Nothing ever fit her proportions right, especially after the rollercoaster that was going from a size 2 to pregnant to struggling with her weight postpartum, to a grueling weight loss journey that brought her to a weight that she could be both healthy and happy with. But Katie wasn’t skin and bones. She was soft and curvy with an ass that was maybe a little bigger than she would like, and breasts that didn’t match the fashion industries’ standards of what her body was supposed to look like. It was that fact that left her rotating out of each boutique's change room, trying on one dress and then the next before she found one dress that fit her body just enough for her to confidently make the purchase.

It was a little black dress that stopped just below the knee. It was sleeveless, and the deep vee neckline showed off her cleavage with a little help from some strategically placed fashion tape. The dress hugged her curves without restricting her stride and left her feeling sexy as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and took her time to do her hair and makeup for her night on the town.

Aka. Her night at the hotel bar.

It was only a short walk from the elevator to the bar's entrance. The dark bar filled with the warm amber glow of the lights that hung above each table, and along the high traffic points of the bar. Normally, she wouldn’t consider going to a place like this. Katie liked to be able to see what she was eating and drinking. But tonight she was desperate. Desperate and alone with no thought in her mind that the latter would change. Besides, she just needed to be there long enough to take a few pictures and leave without an empty stomach. With those two facts in mind, Katie walked into the bar with the confidence only a mother could have and seated herself down the bar.

It’s the most lit area of the establishment, her seat was right beside one of the beautiful bronze light fixtures. It set her face aglow, her bright red lipstick and dark mascara framed eyes illuminated so fully she feared she might look like a clown, but she tried not to focus on the insecurities of dining out alone. Instead, Katie pulled out her phone and texted a quick picture of herself to Dottie. She looked a little more anxious than sexy, but it proved she was out. Then, she took a picture of the light fixture before placing her phone screen down on the bar top and welcomed a menu as it was placed in front of her.

The barkeep was nice, and if she was younger she might have mistaken his kindness for flirtation. But Katie knew better. It was his job to be friendly. Good service meant better tips, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t need the confidence boost. It, at the very least, left her smiling as she looked over her menu and ordered a drink to start: a Negroni Sbagliato.

It would be the first of two during her meal. The first left her more comfortable being out in Boston alone. The second gave her the confidence to lift her phone from the bartop. Her fingers hovered over the darkened screen before she awakened its brightness with the single click of the home button. Her eyes had to squint at the harshness of its light, her eyes having adjusted to the bar’s moody atmosphere before she could be greeted with the series of notifications from Dottie.

She was at her son’s hockey game, but she had taken the time to respond to the photo with a series of flame emojis. Quick, but effective support that had Katie’s finger leaning towards the Tinder app that she had tucked on her last page of applications.

The screen came to life with an even harsher light, leaving Katie to flinch in her seat as she tried to hide her screen beneath her arm. At her age, there was nothing more embarrassing, in her mind, than being on a dating app. She looked down at the first profile carefully as she brought her phone down to her lap, her thumb swiping left on the first eligible bachelor who didn’t look all that eligible when she was sure the woman in the picture was his wife, and not his sister or a friend. Then the second, third, and fourth men in her radius were all at the bottom of her age range and looked all too young.

In her position, Katie knew she shouldn’t be so picky. She was in Boston for only a few days. Alone for one night. If anyone wanted to meet her for a drink, or at the very least provided a pleasant series of text messages before ghosting her when she found out she was a mother, she would be able to label the night as a success.

With each passing profile, Katie fell further into defeat and accepted that she would be enjoying her night alone. And she accepted that as she sipped at what was her second drink, only for it to gently choke at her throat at a soft, unfamiliar voice spoken at her side.

“I’d swipe right on you.”

The words sent a blossom of heat through Katie from her heart to her cheeks and the tips of her toes. Unsolicited, they should have flooded her with dread. But they were flirtatious and left her giddy before she could even offer the man more than a glance. It had been a long time since someone hit on her at a bar, and it left her sitting taller in her seat. Confident.

That was until she looked right, and to the man who had greeted her with his flirtatious words. Her stomach was left unsettled. He wasn’t ugly. Far from it with his tall, lean stature, chestnut brown hair, and eyes a warm brown hue that could so easily tempt her into comfort if she let them. But he was young. Younger than anything in her age range on any of the dating apps on her phone. He looked older than her son, but she may have mistaken them for the same age if it wasn’t for the beginnings of a beard along the angles of his jawline.

As quickly as her stomach fluttered with butterflies, she was flooded with disappointment. She wouldn’t even entertain a man as young as he was. But Katie was too polite.

“That’s very flattering,” there was a hint of a smile in her voice as she looked down at the bartop to hide the blush that still threatened to creep up on her cheeks. “But I’m pretty sure I’m old enough to be your mother.”

The statement seemed to amuse him, his smile growing as he stepped up to sit on the barstool next to her. He, whoever he was, was getting too comfortable. It left Katie shifting in her seat, suddenly all too aware of how her heels hooked on her stool and how her thighs pressed together uncomfortably as her ass was cradled by her seat.

“I don’t believe it,” he wore a boyish grin as he turned his body just enough to give her all of his attention, “You here, looking like that…”

Katie could feel his eyes drag up and down the length of his body, admiring her figure and how it looked in her little black dress.

“Being anyone’s mother would be a shock to me,” he finished his train of thought, his words still on the verge of flirtation.

Katie wanted to accept it. To feel flattered by his interest however great or mild it may be. But there was an anxiety that bubbled deep in her stomach. One that left her paranoid that this could be a joke. Shifting in her seat, Katie did a glance around the bar. Looking from table to table she looked for anyone that the man beside her could be associated with. But the bar was quiet. There was a table with what looked like a bridal party that would be pregaming before hitting the town. Then, there was a table of old-timers who may have been regulars or retirees visiting the city. Neither were crowds he would be a part of. That was unless he was homosexual. But, if he were, he wouldn’t be seated beside her at the bar, hitting on her.

“You’re too kind,” she spoke slowly, trying to be polite.

“What can I say, my mama raised me right,” he smiled a boyish grin, “which is why I’d like to buy you a drink.”

Katie’s heart fluttered in her chest at the offer, her head cocking to the side as she spoke; “You don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

Katie had to give him one thing, he was confident. She could see it in how his dark eyes didn’t tear away from her, and how his shoulders remained strong instead of slouching with each of her flattered but deflective responses. He could have taken her brief remarks as being disinterested - which in a way she was disinterested if only because of his apparent age - yet, he persisted.

Reaching up with his hand, the mystery Bostonian flagged down the bartender and met him with a smile. He ordered himself a drink, before nodding towards Katie and requesting another for her as well. Then, he offered him his credit card. Katie’s eyes lingered on the piece of plastic as it was passed from one man to the other. It was just a typical credit card. Nothing fancy that would indicate that he was a man with exceptionally deep pockets, and her stomach filled with dread as she realized that she had probably let some poor college student pay for her drink.

It left her mouth tasting sour as her third drink of the evening was placed in front of her. So sour, that she almost rejected it. But it was already paid for, so she accepted it and decided that if he ordered a second for himself, she would pay for it.

“Thanks,” she spoke across the short distance between them, her body turning to be a little more open to a conversation.

Talking to him was the least that she could do.

“What brings you to Boston…” he started, his words trailing off. He wasn’t done with his question, yet, he was asking her for something already.

Blankly, Katie stared at him, unsure of what exactly he was fishing for until it hit her. He wanted to know her name. She could feel her face go red with the realization, and redder when she hesitated when she almost said her full name, Katherine.

Katherine felt old. Stale. Everything she was trying to avoid being, so she gave him her nickname instead, “Katie.”

“What brings you to Boston, Katie?”

“Visiting family,” she kept her answer brief without the messy details. And without the mention of having a son that she was sure was only a few years younger than him. “What about you…”

“Jeremy,” he was quicker to answer, his hand reaching out halfway. She smiled at the gesture, reaching out and meeting his hand with hers in a simple handshake before she withdrew to wrap her fist around her glass.

“What brings you to Boston, Jeremy?”

“Nothing too exciting, just work.”

Just work. Such a simple answer. Straightforward. No details. And she could have asked for more, but he met her level of secrecy - of mystery - all the while making his intentions known. He didn’t need to disclose his life to her, or her to him, because he couldn’t care less if he was just looking for a woman to take back to his room. But before she could confirm her theory to be true, he pressed her for more.

“If you’re here to visit with family, why are you alone?”

Katie wasn’t sure what she heard in Jeremy’s voice when he asked that question. If it was merely curiosity or pity, she hadn’t known him long enough to know. But it left her smile wavering as she answered him, “Busy schedules,” she shrugged her shoulders to give off a feeling of carelessness even though it was still bothering her, “I’ll see them all in the morning.”

“How early?”

If she had been taking a sip of her drink, Katie would have choked again. “You aren’t very discreet.”

“I can’t afford to be. A beautiful woman like yourself, you could fly off tomorrow and I’d never see you again. At least I can know I took my shot.”

Katie cocked her hair to the side, her bright auburn hair cascading down between her shoulders as her eyes looked at Jeremy in disbelief. He was the very definition of a golden retriever. Happy, waiting with the greatest anticipation that if he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. And he was waiting for her to throw her a bone.

Biting her lip, Katie placed her drink down on the bartop and her gaze followed after. She shouldn’t have been considering it. Yet there she was, her hands came to rest around her phone and gripped it tight as one thought was clear in her mind. She needed to call Dottie.

“Can you excuse me for just a moment?” she asked slowly.

Jeremy answered with a curt nod, his smile unwavering as he watched her with his wide brown eyes.

With his permission, Katie couldn’t get out of her chair fast enough. She slid from the stool, and her heels slipping on the hardwood. It left her unsteady for a moment, her hand reaching out to catch herself on the bar, but before she could reach the polished wood a pair of large, warm hands had wrapped around her waist.

The heat of his touch blossomed through Katie’s belly, sending her breath to hitch in the depths of her throat. She wanted nothing more but to hide her surely reddened face in her hands with embarrassment. She wanted to curse herself for her clumsiness, but she was frozen in his hold as he breathed out a whisper she could barely hear but could feel against her cheek; “Don’t worry. I got you.”

His touch.

His words.

It was almost enough to make her shudder. But with one shallow, forced breath Katie found her composure and gave his arm a careful squeeze and a thank you that he might not have been able to hear. Then, she was drying back, her steps quick as she moved for the privacy of the woman’s washroom. It was there she was able to pull out her phone and call Dottie. But Jeremy’s touch was not forgotten, it’s warmth remained deep in her belly, lingering.

“Where’s the fire?” There was an alertness in Dottie’s voice, nothing but the peaks of her face visible on the screen as she lay in the dark. Katie could only see more of her tired features as Dottie squinted and brought the phone closer to her face. “Wait,” her tone was one of disbelief, “are you still out?”

“Yeah,” Katie’s voice was uneven as she reached a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “and I think I have a problem.”

“If it’s your card, I told you so. I knew you should have called the bank before you went-”

Shaking her head, Katie cut her off, “No, no, there’s a guy?”

Dottie perked up, any sign of sleepiness void from her face in an instant. “A guy? What are you calling me for? Take him to bed!”

Her excitement was contagious, not even the complaints from Dottie’s tired husband who lay beside her in bed could spoil the mood. Katie wanted to be able to revert back to her younger self. To squeal with excitement over a man. A man who thought she was sexy - who wanted to sleep with her with no strings attached. But it wasn’t that simple.

“It’s just that,” Katie chewed her lip, a heavy sigh rocking her shoulders, “he’s young.”

“How young is young?” Dottie asked slowly, and cautiously as they waded into dangerous territories together.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “they didn’t card him. Maybe, twenty-five. No more than thirty.”

“Shit,” Dottie cursed, the single word drawn out and earning another grunt of disapproval from her husband, “he cute?”

“Very.”

“Well, I mean… Thirty isn’t too bad.”

“That’s IF he’s thirty, Dot,” she emphasized, her eyes wide as she dropped her voice lower at the sound of someone entering the washroom.

“What’s the worst-case scenario?” Dottie asked.

Katie thought for a moment, her teeth chewing her lip as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. As a woman, there were many horrible scenarios a woman could end up in when dating. Ending up dead was the worst of the worst, but she didn’t take it to that extreme. “Worst case? He’s a twenty-one-year-old fuckboy like the ones we warned Megan about before she went off to college. And I end up with the clap.”

Dottie’s laugh was lost on the flush of the toilet in the stall next to Katie, and the rush of the sink as the stranger in the bathroom washed their hands. It was a mess of noise, but Katie could still make out Dottie’s next question, “Best case?”

Katie hesitated as she threw her head back to rest against the stall. She was embarrassed by the answer.

Dottie answered for her, “Best case you get laid for the first time in what is it? Two years?”

Hearing it outloud sent her stomach sinking? Had it really been that long?

Katie cursed under her breath, her head hanging low. When had she let her life get so pathetic? For years, her life had one priority, raising her son. And she had done a good job, he was successful, about to play in his first NHL game after starting his season with the Bruins’ AHL affiliate. But she never really moved on from her divorce, and from being a mom. Her ex-husband was engaged, and ready to start a new family. But she hadn’t even fucked someone anyone since her divorce. Even then, she and her husband hadn’t even shared a bed before their divorce. She couldn’t even recall the last time they slept together, even if she wanted to.

From her throat erupted a long, unsatisfied groan. Her mind quickly fell on a decision that she may come to regret.

“Dot,” she sighed, “is it fucked up if I take him back to my room?”

Silence hung between the two of them for a moment. Dottie processed the decision, and Katie waited anxiously for her friend to tell her if she was making the wrong decision.

“Teach the kid a thing or two,” Dottie spoke, the playful nature of her words lifting a weight of insecurity from her shoulders.

“Dottie, thank you,” she spoke quickly, one hand going to the lock on the door while the other ended the call.

With the decision made, with a little help from her friend, all Katie could do now was hope that Jeremy had waited for her at the bar. If he hadn’t she couldn’t blame him for leaving. Maybe she was older than she looked from a distance. Or he had just come to the bar to kill time before a night out in Boston, and she was merely the entertainment. She couldn’t let herself get too hung up on him if he were gone, but thankfully, she didn’t have too. Jeremy remained at the bar. Standing instead of propped up on his stool, his hand slipping something into his back pocket on her approach.

And Katie, she didn’t waste any time being coy. “I don’t have reservations until 11.”

The smile that was beginning to feel like a welcome constant on Jeremy’s features grew at her words. Katie wasn’t sure if it was the question he was expecting, but it was clear that it was the one that he was hoping for and it flooded her stomach with butterflies.

She was going to do it.

She was going to take this attractive young man back to her room.

“Let me just pay my tab,” Katie told him, her hands already on her purse to dig out her credit card. She merely pressed her jump against the thin, cold plastic card when the bartender threw his towel over his shoulder and raised his hand to reject her payment. He didn’t want it. Katie’s brow furrowed, then it hit her. It had already been paid for.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she was quick to quip. Katie knew she should have been thanking him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. She was a grown woman. Successful in her own right. She was more than capable of paying for her own meal.

“It’s nothing, really,” Jeremy shrugged it off, his arm sliding behind her to rest on her back so effortlessly it was as if they had come to the bar together.

“Let me pay you back,” Katie insisted, earning the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of her back as he began to lead her out to the lobby. She almost scoffed. As if he knew where her room was - because she wasn’t going back to his. If this was going to happen, it needed to happen on her terms. That also meant, shoving her hand into her wallet and shoving a fist full of American money in his direction.

Jeremy continued to refuse, his one hand reaching out to guide her hand back towards her open wallet. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m more than capable of paying for my own dinner-” She voiced, ready to fight him on it further, but his answer stopped her in place.

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

Katie stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, her head slightly cocked to the side as she slid out of Jeremy’s reach. He only took a few strides before looking back at her with such warmth in her eyes she thought she might melt. Jeremy was sweet. Too sweet. Acting in every way he had wanted her husband to when they were married, and he was just a young man. It was a cruel thing in a way. For the universe to taunt her with him, but she would let herself enjoy him, if only for the night.

“Come on, I’m up on the fourth floor,” as she spoke, Katie’s words softened. She wouldn’t be fighting him about her bill again. If he wanted to be a gentleman, she was going to let him.

They boarded the elevator together, Katie drawing her key card and moving to the right, and Jeremy boarding and leaning against the far left wall. Scanning her card, the elevator doors shut, the two of them alone together for the first time as the elevator began its slow ascent.

The movement made it feel as if her heart was sinking to the depths of her stomach, her anxiety building, as she leaned back against the right side of the elevator directly across from Jeremy. He was smiling still, watching her, admiring her. And she couldn’t help but smile too. It was contagious.

Her smile had him smiling wider.

Then, he pushed off the wall of the elevator and closed the short distance between them. He moved so quickly her anxieties didn’t have enough time to worsen, nor did they ease. Her heart raced in the depth of her chest as his hands found her waist, drawing her in from the cold support of the elevator wall and into the strength of his body. He was lean, maybe even a little too lean for her liking, but she could feel how strong he was as her body was pulled flush with his. Katie could feel it first in his grasp, as Jeremy’s fingertips pressed into the curves of her waist. Then again, as her hands braced against his chest, her own careful touch sliding up - feeling his pectorals flex in the process - and around before linking behind his neck. Her tough welcomed Jeremy in, and with him came his kiss.

Katie had to press up onto her toes to meet it, even in her heels. Teetering on the toes of her heels as Jeremy leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. She had expected it to be a desperate kiss. One that was sloppy, and would leave her face wet and her eyes rolling, but she was wrong. Jeremy kissed her slowly, both hands on her hips for one moment, the next one had risen to stroke over the soft skin of her cheek. His thumb dragged over the smooth flesh, and down to catch on her chin, drawing her mouth open. Katie had to choke back a moan at the feeling of his tongue slipping in between parted lips. The warm stroke of his tongue infiltrated her mouth, the depth of the kiss leaving her legs weak as the elevator door chimed.

They had reached her floor.

She licked her lips as she drew back, her hands falling to her clutch to fumble with its contents for her room key. If she was fumbling with her purse, she wouldn’t have to look up and risk anyone else seeing the red lipstick that quickly became a mess on her face. She could feel how it was smudged off her lips, and she was sure that if she looked to Jeremy who now followed behind her like a shadow, that it would be smeared over his lips as well.

But she didn’t look up. Not until she got to the door of her room and she took a deep breath. Once she crossed the threshold, there would be no going back. The thought left her on the verge of vomiting as she heard the lock click, and her hand reached for the door handle. She was nervous, more than that. Anxious. She was anxious. But there was an excitement that left her shivering as she led Jeremy into her hotel room.

If he was going to kiss her like that, she couldn’t wait to see what else he intended to do with her. But first-

“Do you want another drink?” Katie asked him quickly as she came to stand in front of the small console table in the entryway. She placed her clutch there, and her key and had intended to peel away from it to move to the small bar in her room, but she found herself trapped between it and Jeremy’s body as the door shut behind her.

Hands splaying out over the table, Katie braced herself there as Jeremy’s hands returned to her body. One snake around her waist, easing her to lean back into him while the other carefully pushed her loose auburn curls away from the pale skin from her neck. Her eyes went wide, fixated on the horrible piece of art that hung on the wall as his hot breath encroached on her neck. It washed over her in heated waves. The hot moisture was almost enough to make her sweat, but instead Jeremy left her melting. His kiss was slow against her neck. Peppering at first before his lips were dragging down her skin, leaving hot trails down to her collarbone and back up again.

Her heart fluttered. Then it pounded. So loudly, all Katie could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. It left her eyes fluttering shut, her mind focused on nothing but the kiss of his lips and the touch of his hands on her body. He caressed her curves, gripped at her flesh and kissed every bit of exposed skin on her neck, throat and shoulders. And it all left her melting, her mind fuzzy, and any bit of inhibition was ready to leave her and let him do as he pleased with her body. That was until she left his hand encroached on the hem of her dress. The warm touch of his hand on the sensitive skin of her thigh sent her head into a panic.

This was the beginning of foreplay.

Katie should have expected it, she should have been looking forward to it. But it left her nerves raw. In all the years she had been married to Ronnie, foreplay had been forgotten. Sex was an obligation and it was quick. A mere tool used to please her husband while she was left to finish herself off in the shower or beside him after he had fallen asleep in bed. Back then, it didn’t matter if she was dressed in lingerie or pajamas. If she had a fresh shave, or hadn’t shaved for weeks. Ronnie didn’t care - or atleast, he always said he didn’t. But now, as a stranger’s hands were so eager to explore every inch of her body, it left her self conscious.

“I’ve got whiskey at the bar,” Katie breathed out quickly, her knees weak as she stepped away from him and quickly moved for the bar.

She was met by Jeremy’s low chuckle,“I’m not that bad looking, am I?”

“No - no, it’s not that - I’m sorry,” Katie apologized, her hand grasping at one of the little bottles of rum from the bar, “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. I’m just a little nervous.”

“How long’s it been?” His words were casual, his confidence unwavering even as she found her so close to plummeting.

“Since when?” She asked slowly, seeking clarification if only to bide herself more time. Katie didn’t want to have to tell him the truth, but she wasn’t a liar.

“Since you’ve had casual sex?”

“You really don’t want to know,” she countered.

Omission was not the same as lying.

Looking up from the bar top, and the bottle of whiskey in her hand that she had yet to uncork her eyes rose to look at Jeremy who had found his way to the end of her bed. He had seated himself down, his shoes kicked off his feet, and he leaned back on his elbows, lounging casually in the bed that had yet to be slept in.

While he laid back, so casually, that he could have let his head lul back and let himself stare at the ceiling. But even as he relaxed there, waiting for her nerves to be put at ease by a little liquid courage, his soft brown eyes were fixated on her. Her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, a quivering breath coursing through her body as she held his stare. It was soft, alluring in a way that left her ready to answer anything he may ask of her and it left her curing under her breath. It was a dangerous thing, just how easy to trust he was.

Pouring her drink, straight whiskey into her glass, she sipped the room temperature alcohol back and let it burn. Then, under the blaze of it consuming her, Katie answered, “Twenty years.”

“Bullshit.”

Katie’s lips pressed together in a small smile, the shock on his ace coaxing an innocent shrug from her shoulders.

“You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Now that is bullshit,” she pointed at him, her lips spreading into a wider grin now.

“You look incredible. That dress, your body. What can I say? You caught my attention. But I bet that dress looks even better on the floor.”

Katie swallowed back the lump that quickly formed in her throat as his words. She was very self conscious about her body. It changed drastically over the years. Once she was skinny, flat and narrow in no way the healthiest version of herself. But it was also the one that had carried her child, and left her with curves she didn’t want and scars only her ex-husband had seen. And now she was going to share it with Jeremy, a man who she was sure still had so much to learn about a woman’s body. It was a terrifying thought. One that hung in the back of her mind as she abandoned her drink on the bar and stepped out of her heels.

Barefoot, she took careful strides towards the bed, her demeanor caught somewhere between confident and terrified, but it caught his attention all the same. Katie knew she had caught his eye when his smile tested the limits of how far it could spread over his cheeks as Jeremy sat up from where he leaned. He moved slowly to the edge of the bed, his legs spreading just enough for Katie to stand between them.

With a careful, final step, Katie stood between his legs and looked down at him. Her heart pounded deep in her chest, so hard and so rapidly she thought her ribs were about to rattle. And in her chest, she could feel her very last inhale struggling to creep its way back up her throat in the calm of an exhale. It burned in her lungs, the nerves of undressing in front of him smothering her. That was, until she felt the warms of Jeremy’s hands find her body, and in an instant she calmed.

She exhaled slowly through slightly parted lips as her eyes fell shut. In the darkness it brought, Katie fixated on the warmth of Jeremy’s touch. It dragged over her curves, tracing each rise and fall with his fingers and palms before each of his hands settled on her broad hips. There, he gripped her gently and guided her steps in a small circle so she stood with her back to him.

Katie raised up her arms slowly, her hands dragging up her own neck and tangled into her auburn strands as she drew them away from the zipper of her dress. Her breath hitched again, but only for a moment, in the back of her throat as she felt his fingers pinch at the zipper and drag it down. He inched it down slowly, and Katie could feel the black fabric begin to fall away from her skin. And as the warm fabric fell away, the cold air of the room kissed her skin. It sent a shiver coursing up her spine, her entire body shuttering as the fabric hit the ground, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black lace pair of panties.

They were brand new. The tag was in the trash bin in the bathroom. And Katie would be forever thankful that she had bought them when she bought the dress instead of wearing something she had packed. If she had been wearing anything else, she may have recoiled from his touch, but instead, as she turned in place to face him, Katie radiated confidence.

He could see almost all of her, from her stretch marks to the freckles on her skin. Yet, Jeremy’s touch didn’t recoil, his hands continued to explore the expanse of her body and his dark eyes didn’t look away. Instead, they traced her every curve on the way back up to her face that was left blank from the nerves that came from waiting for his reaction. Katie was sure that Jeremy hadn’t seen a body like hers before. So old, so flawed, so-

Her thoughts were broken by Jeremy’s slow, soft spoken words. “Yeah, looks much better on the floor,” Jeremy punctuated his words with the slow swipe of his tongue over his lip as his warm gaze dragged up and down the length of her body. His complement dissolved any feeling of nervousness, of insecurity, that had consumed Katie. Her joints had been weak, and her heart racing, but he brought her calm.

In that calm, Katie found her confidence. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip, her mind racing as she tried to determine what exactly her first move would be – and then she took it.

One step, and then another, Katie brought her legs up to kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath her weight as she straddled Jeremy’s lap. The denim on his dark jeans was rough against the inside of her thighs as his hands helped guide her down into his lap. Jeremy’s arms constricted around her, drawing her nearly naked body flush to his. Katie could feel his hot breath against her cheek, her inhale drawing in the sweet scent of alcohol before she stole a kiss from his lips.

Katie wasted no time with sweetness or caution. Instead she kissed him with such an insatiable hunger, she knew tasting him on her tongue wouldn’t be enough. But it was a start. Each deep kiss and stroke of her tongue against his left his stubble to drag over the sensitive skin of her jaw and cheeks. It was rough, scratching against her skin and contrasting the tender movements of his hands as his warm touch moved up over the curves of her body. Jeremy’s touch settled on the broad curve of her hips, his fingers digging into the soft and supple flesh. And it was the only encouragement she needed to coax the subtle roll of her hips over the roughness of her jeans.

Quickly, Katie became intoxicated by his kiss, by his touch and the very feeling of him between her legs. It began with the friction of his fly against the crotch of her panties, the subtle friction sparking the beginnings of her arousal. And then she felt him. His cock stiffened in the confines of his jeans, growing and becoming a thick outline that pressed up into the thick denim that divided them. Katie dragged her core up and down his clothed length, a shudder taking her body as a soft moan was coaxed from her lips. And it left Jeremy smiling as he pulled back just enough to tug off his t-shirt.

Her eyes looked him up and down in a quick glance. Jeremy was fit. With his chest muscles flexing, the outline of his abs clear and his biceps building as he tossed his t-shirt aside, Katie almost tucked her tail and ran. He wasn’t an Adonis of a man, but he was intimidating in every way. Especially, while she was no idyllic beauty herself.

“That’s just,” she exhaled a long, desperate breath, “not even fair.”

Jeremy’s grin grew wider, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, as he picked her up and flipped her to lay back against the comfort of the bed. The action left her breathless, her hands scrambling against the bed to ease herself upright until she felt Jeremy’s hand flat against her stomach to keep her in place as she lay just beneath the comfort of the hotel room pillows. She lay there panting for a moment, her hair a mess against the bed and her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt the bed shift, and Jeremy settle between her legs.

“Just take a second, relax,” Jeremy’s hot words washed over the inside of her thighs, and her core clenched.

The room around her seemed to spin as she lay there, her lips parted in disbelief as she felt his fingers hook on the black lace of her panties and dragged them down the length of her legs. She could feel the warm, wet puddle of her arousal as it dragged down against her inner thigh, and her stomach knotted as she felt the warmth of his breath encroach on her needy core. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been between her legs - if one had been at all, because she knew her husband never had been. But Jeremy didn’t hesitate.

He lay on the bed on his stomach between her legs, his one hand sliding down from her hip, over the red curls of hair that trailed down over her pelvis and down to the slick folds between her thighs. He stroked her slowly, with two fingers barely brushing her slit before parting her with his fingers and tracing the sweet arousal at her core. Jeremy teashed her there, her heart racing as she tried so desperately to be calm. Her heart pounded, and her teeth care down on her lower lip in a firm bite, the pain a little distraction from the insecurities that threatened to consume her. She in no way felt prepared for this of all things. It was supposed to be a quick fuck, but then she felt him. The warmth of his tongue stroked over the entrance of her cunt and she moaned.

It ripped up her throat before she could stop it, the heat and wetness of his long tongue a stark contrast to the colder temperature of the hotel room. And the sound only seemed to fuel him. He delved into her as if he was dehydrated and she was all he had to drink. His tongue parted her folds, and delved into her core leaving her cunt dripping with his saliva. His hands wound around her waist, one moving over the thick red curls of her hair as he blindingly fumbled for her clit as his face was buried between her thighs.

Reaching down, her hand took hold of his carefully. Her fingers slid along his, gripping them carefully as she guided him to just the right spot. But once she guided him there, Katie’s touch didn’t leave him. Her hand remained resting over his. It kept his pressure even, and his motion just right as he rubbed her in slow circles. The action wound her up, the pleasure building like a wind up toy. Each stroke of his tongue, and every rotation of his fingers left her burning pleasure to coil in her stomach and soon she was seeing stars. She was so close to the brink of her pleasure, that her toes were curling against the sheets and her thighs threatened to close in on his ears. But that was where he left her, on the verge of her climax, as he trailed sloppy kisses down the inside of her thighs before he could push up and pull as his belt.

Pushing up onto her elbows, she watched as she pulled his belt free, and worked his jeans and his boxer briefs down his legs together. It was hard not to stare, to admire the muscles of his body as she fished through his pocket or his wallet, and then the condom that was tucked in its folds.

The wrapper became discarded on the bed beside her, and he worked the latex onto his cock, ready to take his place between her legs again, but she didn’t let him. Katie felt too guilty, selfish even, for having his face buried between her legs, and it had her pushing up from her place with a sudden surge of confidence. Her hands found the strength of Jeremy’s chest, a playful shove knocking him back to lay against the bed so she could climb into his lap once more. She took in a steady breath, her nose wrinkling for a moment as it crossed her mind that she may be too old for what she had in mind, but it didn’t stop her.

With a single hand, Katie reached down between their bodies and took hold of his cock in her hand. She stoke it slowly, once and then again before she brought it to the entrance of her core. The mere pressure of the tip of her cock threatened to send her legs trembling before she could take him. If it were anyone else, Katie might have given up and let him take her plainly on her back knowing full well it would get the job done for her. But Katie persevered. She eased herself down onto him slowly, her eager core accommodating him so effortlessly it left her moaning. And once she felt his warmth against her ass, and had consumed him into the depths of her core, Katie began to ride him.

Her hands braced herself against the slender strength of her chest as her hips rolled. She moved in a slow and steady rhythm, the friction sending pleasure boiling through her entire body. Katie became lost in the feeling of hip hips rising to meet her body in a gentle pound. It was all she could fixate on, even as her legs began to tremble and the muscles in her legs began to burn. She could hear each subtle impact, the meeting of skin, and it became a symphony of sounds that mixed with her desperate breath and the soft sounds that she coaxed from Jeremy’s lips. He reeled on the bed beneath her, his warm eyes admiring her body as his hands gripped her hips and fingers sunk into the flesh of her ass. He encouraged her every move, guiding her up and down his cock, but she couldn’t hide how her legs trembled.

Jeremy grinned wide, his head leaning back against the pillow as he let out a trembling breath of words, “Look so pretty taking my cock, you wanna see?”

Katie found herself at a loss for words as she slid down the length of his cock and froze with him deep inside her. Her breaths quaked under each uneven breath, and her mind was left fuzzy by the mere feeling of being so full of him. And all she could do was nod.

Carefully, Jeremy eased her from his cock, and guided her to rest on all fours on the bed. In front of her at the end of the bed was the dresser, her empty bag still resting on top of it, but it wasn’t enough to block the view of the mirror that hung on the wall above it. She could see her reflection there, her auburn hair left mused and her face was almost just as red as it was flushed and smeared with her red lipstick. She could see her body too. Her skin was fair and freckled and so exposed. Her breast hung in two small swells, and from behind her shoulders she could see the swell of her hips and Jeremy positioning himself behind her. His eyes were fixated on her ass, as were his hands that kneaded at the soft flesh.

Katie could see his lips move in a silent curse that was lost on her as he pulled he positioned her just right. And when he had her just where he wanted her, the careful glide of the tip of his cock found her entrance again, and her thrust deep inside. The first thrust left her mewling, and the second left her fingers to grip at the bedding below. She met every single one of Jeremy’s thrusts, the mass of her ass quaking from each impact. But she didn’t watch herself, Katie’s eyes did not leave Jeremy. She watched as his face softened, and his muscles flexed. His eyes even closed from the time as he became lost in the feeling – but when they opened his stare met his gaze in the mirror.

Jeremy tutted her gently, a single hand leaving the soft flesh of her hip to travel up the length of her back. As he moved, she could feel more and more of his body against her. Then, his hand found her throat. He held it carefully, without pressure, and guided her up to kneel. There she could feel his entire body against hers, all the while his cock was buried deep in her core. His thumb rested along her chin, and his forefinger stretched out along her jaw, and Jeremey held her gaze there, on her own feeble expression as he fucked her until her throat was raw, and her core clenched desperately around her cock. It was under the pressure of her core’s embrace that she felt his breathing quicken,the rush of air hot against the back of her neck as he reached the very peak of his climax.

His hands fell away from her lip ribbon, and Katie fell back onto her hands and knees. Her entire body trembled as she lowered herself down to the mattress. The soft twitches involuntary as she was left panting and void of Jeremy as he eased his cock from her. She was seeing stars, her head or the room spinning as the rush of being fucked began to fade. Katie was left exhausted, ready for sleep, but satisfied - feeling euphoria for the first time in years. But before she could sleep, she needed to take care of Jeremy.

“You’re welcome to shower before you go,” she offered as she lay sprawled out on the mattress. It was the least she could do.

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Jeremy carded a hand through his sweaty curls as he nodded towards what he thought was the bathroom door.

Katie nodded in confirmation, and watched as he disappeared through the bathroom door. She did not move until she could hear the water tattooing against the shower floor. But she didn’t go far. She reached out to the dresser, and she pulled open the dresser drawer. She had left her pajamas on the very top, the same ones she was going to wear before Dottie had convinced her to go out, and she dressed slowly. Her body ached in the best way as she stepped into them. Then, she joined Jeremy in the bathroom.

The room was full of steam, the mirror fogged over as she moved to stand in front of it. A single hand cut through the fog, revealing her tired reflection, but best of all she could see the silhouette of Jeremy in the shower behind her. She stood there, brushing her teeth, her eyes admiring his body as it was obscured by the steamy glass.

Leaning forward, Katie spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink.

“I’m going to turn in, you can let yourself out when you’re done. Use all the hot water if you want, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t steal my wallet while I slept.”

Jeremy’s laughter filled the air as effortlessly as the plumes of steam from his shower. It drew Katie's eyes to his blurred silhouette, a small smile curling up on her own lips. She could get used to that sound, and the warm fuzzy feeling that came with it. The joy and amusement it embodied was one she needed to embrace herself–

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Goodnight, Katie.”

–And for a moment she frowned as she moved for the doorway, her eyes fixated on the ground, as she realized it was a laugh she wouldn't hear again.

Sweaty palms threatened the integrity of a single slip of paper as Katie held it firm in a single fist. It was a pale yellow posted note, one that she had found stuck to her bathroom mirror when she had woken up in the morning. It was left there to be found by tired eyes, the message: For if you ever find yourself alone in Boston. Paired with Jeremy’s phone number, it had made her smile as she tucked it into her purse before she had gone out for brunch with her son, Parker, her ex-husband and his new fiance. But it had also left her panicked when it had fallen out of her purse when she pulled out her wallet as she insisted on paying at least half of the bill. It rested on the table face door for a moment, Katie had frozen completely and Parker was quick to try and retrieve it for her, but she had acted quickly. She had grabbed it before he could, and then she had conceded. Parker paid for their meal, and the paper had remained secured in her hand as they left and parted ways.

Even as she walked alone in a park she couldn’t remember the name of, the slip of paper remained secure in her hand. In the other she held her cell phone against her ear as it rang. She needed to call Dottie. She needed to know everything.

“He left me his number.”

“That’s my girl. Rocked that boy’s world.” Dottie encouraged her with a holler.

Katie looked down to her feet, her face flushed with color. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done anything like she had with Jeremy, and if it had been anyone else Katie would have bit her tongue. But she could trust Dottie more than anyone. They were best friends, practically sisters, Katie could tell her anything.

“I think he had to be older than I thought. He was actually really good in bed,” Katie smiled a little too wide as she spoke. It had been too long since she had a real girl talk. “Like really good. And his body, Dot, I couldn't have pulled a guy like that when I was twenty.”

“What did he say he did for work?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask-”

“Maybe he’s a porn star,” Dottie joked but Katie didn’t laugh.

She could only shrug. “I mean, it would explain a lot.”

“You used a condom, right?”

“Yes mom, of course I did,” Katie rolled her eyes.

“Good girl, are you going to text him?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. Katie looked away out over the park as if Katie could see her on what was merely a voice call. The prospect of reaching out to Jeremy was a pleasant thought in her mind. He was attractive, kind, and so good in bed. He treated her the way that she wanted to be treated. She should want to call him, but he was young. Too young to be anything more than a one night stand.

She could never see Jeremy again.

“Fuck, no,” she assured Dottie, “number went into the trash,” her words were rushed as she lied, and rushed further to assure Dottie wouldn’t question her on it. “I gotta go, I’ll call you after the game tonight. Kisses!”

TD Garden was unlike any arena Katie had ever been in. The fans were loud, so loud she swore her bones rattled in her body with every intense cheer. And the atmosphere left her sitting on the edge of the seat since before the game could even start. Or maybe that was just the nerves as she sat beside her ex-husband as they watched their son Parker Waylon-Stacy erupt from the tunnel to take his rookie lap.

Her hands came together over her heart, her eyes fixated on him, and then the jumbotron above as the camera followed his path along the side. The threat of tears burned at her eyes, her lips parted in a breath that fought back of heartfelt sob that erupted when his name was plastered across the screen with his stats from the AHL. Parker Stacy.

Stacy.

Her last name on her back, not her husband’s last name or the hyphenation of the two. It left ehr on the verge of tears throughout the night, and they did spill as it came down to the third period when she shot up from her seat as her son assisted on what would be the game winning goal. Katie cried into her hands, her husband’s arm patting her back as the crowd erupted around them. There was no greater pride than celebrating her son’s success in that moment with her husband, and the strangers around her that even offered her some napkins as her mascara began to run.

“That’s my son,” she sobbed with pride, and the crowd of college kids around her celebrated with her. Some jumped, others spilled their beer, Katie even received a hug, but they all cheered, “Stacy's Mom!”

Katie remained in her seat after the game, reveling in the silence as the seats around her and her family cleared. And she only moved from her palace when she received a text message from Parker. He wanted them to come down to the locker room. It sent her through what felt like a maze of the arena, but with the help of a member of the security team, she found her boy.

Katie ran to him, her arms enveloping her only son in her arms and pressing a kiss into his sweat drench hair. There the tears began to fall in hot streams down her cheeks, “I am so proud of you,” she told him as she drew back, her hand cradling his cheeks. Parker’s face was red, surely embarrassed by his mother’s affections, but he didn’t stop her. He had always been a mama’s boy, and that wouldn’t change even if his teammates gave him a hard time about that later.

Parker wore a boyish grin, his hand raising to push through his wet hair. He was already showered and dressed, even if some of the other players around him were still half-dressed in their equipment. Parker was ready to leave, but first he wanted to make the introductions he felt he may never be able to make again. “Mom this is Patrice Bergeron-”

Katie turned in place, a smile blossoming over her face as she reached out to shake the Captain’s hand. She had every intention of being polite. She wanted to introduce herself, to make the small talk as she was prompted to. But her words were lost as hoots and hollers of the nickname Bulldog filled the room. The players were welcoming their rookie goaltender back into the room after completing his post game interview. Confidence embodied his every stride, and it drew Katie’s curious eye.

The player was still dressed in his equipment, his back to her as he stood in front of his stall. SWAYMAN was sprawled across the back of his shoulders, framed by his shoulders. A single large hand reached back, peeling it from his body before it was tossed into a pile with the others. Katie’s eyes moved back to the Captain, a small awkward smile on her lips as she listened to him talk about the pleasure of mentoring her son. But his words were lost on her ears as they perked up at the sound of all too familiar laughter.

Katie’s blood ran cold, her eyes searching for the sources of the laughter. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach jumping up into her throat as she was left on the verge of vomiting. There, standing in his stall, laughing along with his teammates was Swayman, who no longer stood with his back to her. He was completely shirtless now, and his face was all too clear to see. She knew those warm brown eyes, and that soft confident smile. The sight of them was one that would be etched into her memories for the rest of her days.

Swayman was Jeremy.

She stood there, petrified, her eyes unmoving from his as he leaned back and flexed his chest muscles. It was there, with his back leaned against his stall, his warm gaze rose and his face softened with recognition. If he was panicked he didn’t show it. And while she froze, Jeremy acted. He stood up slowly, Katie had to fight not to let her eyes wander, and he approached with a casual stride.

“I didn’t realize we had guests,” Jeremy smiled as he came up to stand beside his Captain, but Katie could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart in her ears.

The room around her seemed to move in slow motion, her head suddenly feeling light as Patrice introduced her as Stacy’s Mom. It was then she thought she might actually vomit, the bile burning at the back of her throat as Jeremy looked to her with slightly parted lips and a slight glimmer in his eyes. Her palms began to sweat, so much so that she had to wipe her hands along the seam of her jeans before she could reach out to shake Jeremy’s hand as he offered it to her.

“Stacy’s Mom?” Jeremy spoke with such disbelief that Katie almost believed her, “You don’t look a day over thirty.”

White she had heard that same flattery before it made her heart race all the same. But this time, she couldn’t show it.

“You’re too kind,” Katie forced a smile, struggling to remain composed as the feeling of her hand encased by his left her heart racing just as his touch had the night before. It was enough to bring her to her knees.

Jeremy made her weak, and he would for the rest of her days. She would crave him, in every sense of the word. Katie wanted to hear his sweet laughter. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, and enjoy every piece of his that he could offer her. It was a hunger that would rage and burn in the depths of her, but it was one that she could never fulfill. Not now, not that she knew who he was.

Standing there, the chaos of the room became an echo in her ears as her hand fell away from Jeremy’s hold. She watched as he met her ex-husband, his smile consistently pleasant and was the only thing keeping her from spiraling right there in the locker room.

Katie would be seeing Jeremy Swayman again. At games, during breaks. Often. So often it would pain her. And she could only pray that she would have the strength to refuse him, or that Parker would find himself on a new team before her will could break.

Katherine Stacey could not fuck Jeremy Swayman.

She wouldn’t.

Not again.

Surely, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Not without complications.

Could she?

Taglist: @mp0625 @starshine-hockey-girl

#jeremy swayman #boston bruins #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl rpf #hockey rpf #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey romance #age gap romance #nhl writing #jeremy swayman x original character #nhl smut

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 1 year ago

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Love me or hate me, both are in my favor. (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic rivals AU])

Babe wake up, new series just dropped! This is not proofread btw

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, Miguel being jealous? (If you squint), i am mexican but my Spanish sucks so apologies I’m advance, Phantom of the Opera spoilers (???? Through I’d throw it out there)

Word count: 3k

Series Masterlist Series playlist

Chapter 1:The world was on fire

—

“Love me or hate me, Both are in my favor. If you love me, I’ll always be in your heart. If you hate me, I’ll always be in your mind.”

The quote was etched into the front of your red hardcover notebook, with gold details covering the edges of the front. The black ink was oddly neat despite how deep you had to indent the words over and over on the cover. Miguel has noticed that you would always write a beautifully tragic quote on the front of all your English notebooks every year.

Last year, the quote was, “Love is blind, and lovers cannot see.”

For sophomore year, “She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool.”

And for freshman year it was, “‘I miss her.’ ‘You’re dead.’ ‘Even in death, I mourn her.’”

The first time Miguel saw it was when you both were in the 7th grade, being paired up to write a report about some random novel that Miguel couldn’t remember the name of. You had pulled out your notebook, that year it was a dark forest green, with the quote being, “But just because I’m not going to wish for it doesn't mean the moth can ignore the flame. It’s in the moth's blood.”

Miguel’s dark maroon eyes rolled to the back of his head, it was almost pretentious he thought, a way to show off how “artsy” you are. He allowed a scoff to escape his plump lips, you simply ignored him as you began to flip through your notes.

You were much more into history, the arts and most of all, Literature, while Miguel was more into science and math. Miguel didn’t understand why you loved it so much, he didn’t think your favorite subjects were nearly as important as his. Who cares what some dead poet wrote a thousand years ago, when he could be the next to make a big scientific discovery? Like time travel or curing cancer. Sure, Miguel still did the work in english and history, and for someone who didn't care for it, he would always do so well, and that drove you up the wall, but Miguel could say the same about you with math and science. Miguel would always tune you out when you would ramble on about some new book you were reading to your friends, or would ignore the way your eyebrow would furrow together and your teeth would bite down on your lips when you’d get to a particularly good spot in your novel, stopping every once and a while to annotate, would scoff at the the way your eyes would stare at piece of art with such fascination and wonder when the class would go to a field trip to an art museum, groan at how’d you always talk about the beauty of old gothic architecture, talking about how the beauty of the buildings was almost tragic.

The key word, would.

As you two grew older, and your competitiveness in your grades became more intense, Miguel couldn’t help but start to wonder what goes through that pretty little head of yours. He wanted to see how the deep corners of your mind worked. What made your brain tick, maybe if he saw the world through your perspective, he would understand you more.

Your manicured hand grabbed your notebook by the bloody red spine, gently gripping it before placing it into your bag, and zipping it up. Slinging it over your shoulder as you turn to talk to your friend who sat next to you, before you both made your way out of the AP English classroom.

You and Miguel had been attending the same classes since you transferred in the 6th grade, both of you attend one of Nueva York’s most prestigious and high-end boarding schools. At first, Miguel didn’t pay you any mind, figured you were just another spoiled brat with daddy’s money, and a trust fund big enough to last you until you find some poor unsuspecting fool to ask for your hand and make you into a trophy wife, like most of the girls who attend the school. But it wasn’t until you had beat his score later that year on the mid-year school wide testing did you get his attention. He could remember it like it was yesterday, he was sitting in class with a near perfect score of 97% written on top of his test answer sheet, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he slid the paper over to his left where Peter Parker had sat.

“I swear man, you’re like, a genius.” Peter grumbled to Miguel as he glanced at his friend’s paper, before at his own which had 78% written at the top. Peter’s hand went up to pat Miguel on the back, but before Miguel could reply, just bearly in earshot, he had heard an unfamiliar voice speak.

“Yeah I got a 99, I wasn’t expecting…” Miguel didn’t catch the rest, but the first part was enough for his whole body to feel hot all over, and make his stomach twist in discomfort. He felt like he was about to go into a state of shock, or rather he was already entering one. He’s never had someone top before, if felt like he was dreaming, well, maybe having a nightmare was a better way to describe it. He couldn’t remember how long he had sat at his desk afterwards, in a weird state of disassociation until Peter had pulled him back to reality. He swore to himself, after that moment he’d never let you top him again.

But that was a hard promise to keep. Because whether he'd like to admit it or not, you were good, always keeping him on his toes. You were almost like a breath of fresh air for him, albeit a painful one, like the first shallow breath after almost drowning. Before you , Miguel was growing content, growing bored, no other student was anywhere close to his GPA, even the second best at the time, he felt simply untouchable, but then you came along, and you changed everything for him.

At first, he saw you more as a pest, an annoying little fly that kept buzzing around no matter how many times he had tried to swat you away. Upon your first time formally meeting with Miguel, you were polite and civil, the kindest smile on your face as you stuck your hand out for him to shake as you introduced yourself to him. Miguel just glanced at your hand with a sour, unamused expression on his face, before his eyes wandered back up to your face and he just let out a noise that was a mix between a grunt and a scoff before turning and walking away, leaving you confused and a little bit hurt from his unfriendly and quite frankly rude actions, you decided to just brush it off, maybe he was having a bad day and wasn’t in a good mood. So a few days later you tried to approached him again in hopes for a better interaction, only for those hopes to get squashed when he basically told you to fuck off, rolling his eyes and ignoring your presence once again as he walked past you, “accidentally” shouldering you in the process. You decided to stop trying to be nice to him after that.

For about the first year since you transferred, you and Miguel simply pretended the other didn’t exist, neither would approach or interact with the other unless absolutely necessary, the only constant reminders of each other's presence was when one would beat the other during tests, report cards, etc. Eventually the plain out ignoring shifted to fleeting glares and glances, eye rolls and snarky remarks muttered under both of your breaths, both of yours already rocky relationship with each other becoming more and more intense and open as you both got older, neither finding the energy to even attempt to tolerate the others presence anymore. So now you and him were stuck in this repetitive circle with each other, but neither of you were doing anything to stop it.

—

“I’ve already told you Gabe, I’m not going to give you my notes from last year. Read the book like everyone else.” Miguel sighed, stuffing his free hand in his pocket, his other hand holding onto his backpack strap, walking to the housing building across the campus of Nueva York’s Preparatory Academy, where he and his younger brother shared a room.

“But Miggy!” Gabriel whined, his lips coming out in a pout, and Miguel’s nose scrunched in annoyance at both the nickname and the high-pitch tone of his brother's whine. “What’s the point of me being brothers with one of the top students at this school if I can’t steal your notes! Besides, I've tried and I just can’t get into it. Who would have thought that Frankenstein would be such a boring book, and don’t get me started on how the paragraphs are set up!”

“And that’s my problem because?” Miguel’s eyebrow quirked up, sending Gabriel an unamused look.

“Look Miguel, you might not get it from my point of view, but it’s very difficult for me, being your brother. From an academic standpoint I mean. The teachers expect me to have the same intelligence as you. I'm not stupid, don’t get me wrong, I’m just not on the same playing field as you. Also, I don’t like reading.” Gabriel shrugged.

“And what makes you think that I do?” Miguel retorted with an eyeroll, opening the glass doors to the housing building for his brother before stepping in himself and shutting the door behind him.

“Well didn't you get an A+ on your report about the book last year?”

“No. I got an A-.” Miguel grumbled, and after a moment, Gabriel’s expression perked up a bit, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head.

“Oh riiight, that one girl got an A+, what was her name again?” Gabriel said in an almost teasing tone, before throwing out various names at Miguel that were similar to yours, obvious bait to see if his brother would bite, and he did.

“It’s (Y/N).” Miguel corrected with a hash glare.

“Oh, right, right.” Gabriel’s lips went up in a slight smirk, his hands going into his pockets to fish out the keys to their shared dorm room. “Maybe I can ask her to help me, I mean she’s a bookworm, right?”

Miguel didn’t answer the question, not completely sure if it was rhetorical or not, choosing to stay silent as they finally stopped in front of their room.

“I could ask for her notes, maybe take her out for some coffee as a thank you.” Miguel’s face scrunched with annoyance at the implication, his brother knew how much you two disliked each other, and a more sound part of his mind was telling himself that his little brother was just pulling at his leg, but that didn’t stop him from the draggers he glared at Gabriel.

“Don’t even think about it. Hasta la mira mal a esa niña, y estás muerto. ¿Entiendes?” Miguel hissed, his voice dropping an octave with the threat. (If you even look at that girl wrong, you’re dead. Got it?”)

Despite his older brother’s threats, Gabriel’s smirk only turned into a wide grin, before he put his hands up as I sigh of surrender, his keys dangling with the motion before he unlocked the door, and walked into the room, Miguel following closing the door behind him.

—

“I don't understand anything about this, (Y/N).” Your friend, Mary Jane, or MJ for short, groaned as you both sat down in one of the school's many libraries, school supplies sprawled on top of the mahogany desk. It was fairly empty, today, but you both took space in one of the empty study rooms to keep from making too much of a disruption from anyone else who might go in, the repeated sound of rapid tapping of MJ’s mechanical pencil hitting the desk as you catch her biting her bottom lip in frustration.

“I know.” You giggled with a small smile, putting your hand on her forearm in an attempt to comfort her. You both have been at it for about 3 hours now, your English teacher had assigned everyone to write a 2,000 word essay about the book being read in class Romeo and Juliet. You’ve already read and watched the play a million times so you knew the back of your hand.

“Like I understand that, they fall and love and die and stuff, but all the jokes and the symbolism and stuff-“

“That’s why I’m here, MJ.” You grinned at your friend, and she just scoffed at you with a friendly smile, a smile you returned, before getting up from your seat with a small stretch. “I’ll be right back, I'm going to go stretch my legs.” You told her, which only got you a hum in response, before you slipped out of the small room. No matter how much time you’ve spent in this specific library, (it’s your favorite one) you’ll never get tired of the earth and wood-like tones that filled your senses whenever you would enter in the building, the four old walls always filled you with such warmth, they were like a second home for you. You let out a deep content exhale as your black Mary Jane heels tapping quietly against the old wooden tiles of the library floor. Mindlessly wandering with no real destination in mind, but making sure you don’t stray too far from the study room, it wasn’t difficult to lose your sense of direction in the make-shift corridors made from old bookshelves. You turn a corner without thinking, a hand goes up , gently brushing the spines of the books as you continue walking. What genre section were you in?

Your steps came to a halt, taking a step closer to the shelf as you grabbed the book your hand was resting on. Your lips came up in a soft small smile as you read the title of the book in your hands.

The phantom of the opera.

Oh how you loved the story, you’ve watched both the movie renditions and the stage version countless times, but you’ve read the novel more than you’ve watched all three combined, but your copy sadly got ruined when you dropped it in a puddle of water while on a walk, and haven’t had the time to get a new copy. Was it bad that if you were in Christine’s shoes, you would have picked Erik over Raoul?

Your fingertips opened the door, flipping the pages until you landed on the page you were looking for.

Hardly breathing, he went up to the dressing-room and, with his ear to the door to catch her reply, prepared to knock. But his hand dropped. He had heard a man's voice in the dressing-room, saying, in a curiously masterful tone:

"Christine, you must love me!"

And Christine's voice, infinitely sad and trembling, as though accompanied by tears, replied:

"How can you talk like that? When I sing only for you!"

Raoul leaned against the panel to ease his pain.

His heart, which had seemed gone-

“Why am I not surprised I’d find you here?” The sudden words interrupted your reading. You didn’t need to lift your eyes to know the source of the voice, the slight accent and the deadpan tone gave it away.

“Hello to you too, O’Hara.” You replied, your eyes not lifting, your hand flipping to the next page despite no longer reading the words on the pages anymore, you weren’t going to give Miguel the satisfaction of knowing he had your attention. The act didn’t last very long though when his finger went up to lift the book up to read the cover, your gaze going up to finally look up at him, a bored expression on your face, a tsk leaving his mouth when he realized what you were reading.

“What?” You question him, wanting to know what that reaction meant, you closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

His lips come up to a smug smirk.

“That you find that shit romantic.” He stated like he knew it was a fact, and you’d rather die than admit to him that you did, in fact, find it romantic. “Don’t act like you don’t, I can read you like a book. No pun intended.”

Your face came to a scowl, instead of entertaining him with a response, you crossed your arms and slightly leaned against the bookshelf behind you.

“What are you even doing here Miguel? You don’t even like reading.” He didn’t entertain your question with a response either, rather he just shrugged, and took a step closer, his hand going up to rest against the self, his hand was right next to your head.

“Do me a favor?” He asked, but his tone came out more like it was a suggestion rather than a request.

“Why would I do that?” You scoffed.

“Don’t make me beg, muñeca.” His tone dropped an octave. Despite the pet name, his voice was filled with nothing but coldness. (Doll)

“Don’t give me ideas.” You teased. Your lips twitched up slightly.

“If my brother comes to you and asks to take you out, go ahead and say no.” That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, but you slowly nodded your head regardless, deciding to not ask what his brother said to him that would make him come up to you about that. His hand came back down to his side as he took a step back “Good. How’s the essay coming?”

The sudden topic change you off guard a bit, but you quickly recovered, since it was something you’d both been more used to talking about, your studies.

“I’m almost done, I’ve mostly been just helping MJ with hers.” You explained, as you stood up straight again. “You?”

“Same, if it weren’t for Peter I probably would already be finished with it.”

“Don’t stress about it too much, O’Hara.”

“Oh, why not?”

You smiled.

“Because I'm gonna get a better grade on my paper anyways.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini12

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara au #academic rivals au #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #love me or hate me fanfic

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prkwook · 1 year ago

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MUSE 🎨 shen ricky

☆ pairing: artist bf!ricky x gn!reader

☆ genre: fluff

☆ wc: ~ 0.9k

☆ summary: ricky finds a muse in a stranger that would eventually become his one true love

☆ warnings: use of petnames (love, babe, hot stuff), y/n is called beautiful by ricky

☆ note: based on a req i got recently asking for artist ricky & of course i had to bc who doesn't love artist ricky?

"the gracious muse who tuned my soul to pure harmonies, i became fond of her, and, as it often seemed to me, she of me." - ludwig van beethoven

Being a musician, you always heard talk about having a muse but you never expected to be someone’s. You certainly had found your own in your longtime boyfriend, Ricky. When you love someone as much as you loved him, creating art with them in mind becomes second-nature. Little did you know that he felt the same way about you long before you met.

“Hey y/n, do you mind if we stop by my studio on the way home? I forgot my paint brushes there this afternoon and I need them for class tomorrow. It’ll be quick, I promise.” your blond-haired boyfriend says to you as he helps you get your coat on.

“Yeah, of course!” you respond with a smile. You secretly love going to his art studio. You’ve always loved seeing his art, seeing the things he can create with just a pencil, some paint and paintbrush. In the past 3 years you’ve been together, his talent has never ceased to amaze you.

“Thank you, y/n.” he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead. The familiar feeling of butterflies creeps up and makes you blush. In order to distract him from your rosy cheeks, you take hold of his hand and lead him out of the Thai restaurant you were regulars at.

As always, he walks over with you to the driver side of the car he bought you for your first anniversary and opens the door for you. In an effort to make you laugh, he pretends to climb into the driver seat. He pats the covered passenger seat and without missing a beat, he says “Hop in, hot stuff, let me take you for a ride.” in the most Chad voice ever, finishing off the bit with a wink. You laugh and give him a small slap to the arm. Mission = success!

Still laughing, you respond with “Okay Max Verstappen… you and what license?” As he climbs out of the car, he says something along the lines of “fair” and then offers you his hand to help you into the seat he had just occupied. Once he’s seated in his passenger princess throne, he queues up your go-to playlist and buckles up. You don’t need any directions since you know the route by heart. You can’t even count how many times you’ve driven these roads, bringing pick-up to his studio so you can keep him company on those inevitable late nights.

You park in your usual spot and hop out. Just like the gentleman he is, Ricky is already at your side, ready to offer a hand for you to take and as always, you take it and walk with him into the studio. Once you walk in, Ricky departs to go find his missing items with a “I’ll be right back, love.” and you’re left by yourself and his art. Looking around, a sketchbook laying open on his desk catches your eye. At first, you don’t want to look but curiosity gets the best of you and you sneak a glance. It’s a sketch of you sitting on stage with your cello, deeply immersed in the piece you were playing but somehow you still look completely at peace.

You remember that day like it was yesterday. It was the spring talent show and your high school orchestra teacher had signed you up without you knowing. You found out a day after the deadline to drop out, so you were stuck doing it. The day of, your stage fright was so bad that you almost considered just not showing up, but something in the back of your mind told you that you had to go and so you did. When it was your turn, you walked nervously out onto stage with your cello in one hand and your sheet music in the other. Once seated, you looked out into the audience and made eye contact with a red-haired boy. He smiled at you and nodded, as if queuing you up to start. During the song, you would periodically glance over at him and he was always there with a smile and a look of encouragement. That red-haired boy not only turned out to be the boy you now call your boyfriend but also that was the day that you discovered your love for the cello.

“Hey babe, what is this?” you called out to Ricky, who was now walking back towards you, paintbrushes in hand.

“Oh, this? Nothing, just my old sketchbook from high school. Why?”

“Look at this. We didn’t even know each other then.” you say with a laugh.

“I know. I just thought you looked beautiful while playing. And clearly, I like drawing beautiful things.” He gestures to the wall behind him that’s full of sketches and paintings clearly inspired by you.

“Wait… when did you do this? I’ve never seen this before.”

“It was kind of supposed to be a surprise for your birthday but I forgot so … Surprise!” He sheepishly grins and attempts to do jazz hands.

All you can do is laugh and pull him in. You give him a kiss and look him in the eyes.

“Thank you, sweet boy. It’s beautiful.”

You realize in this moment that you would give anything to be able to be his muse in every life.

#prkwook #zb1 ricky #shen quanrui #ricky x reader #shen ricky #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 fluff #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone fluff #zerobaseone x reader #ricky imagines #ricky fluff #zb1 #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios

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satansaidnottoday · 9 months ago

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A surprise meeting.

Info: Human AU, Lucifer's Mc, GN!Mc.

Summary: Satan and Lucifer want to make you an offer. Happens after this.

Warnings: none.

The sun wasn't fully out yet, barely rearing its head on the horizon. The streets were painted in soft orange light, and the morning frost was slowly melting. You already had quite a few customers sitting down. The café wasn't very popular, but it had a dedicated and slowly growing fan base. If you kept it up, you might not go bankrupt by the end of the year.

You went outside to place the chalkboard sign that listed your breakfast deals, taking a moment to look at the sunrise. From the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar pair turn at the corner.

You leaned over the sign as they approached. "Ah, my favorite customers!"

"Good morning, Mc," the brothers said at the same time.

It made you smile. Of all the siblings, they were the most similar. If it wasn't for the blonde hair and green eyes, Satan would be identical to Lucifer. They had to be related.

"What can I get started on for you?" You asked, opening the door for them.

"A ragdoll, please," the blond answered first this time. He walked over to the table nearest to the window. You found that weird; he'd usually sit near the play area.

"A black coffee for me, please," Lucifer said. He waited by your side for a few seconds and then leaned closer to whisper. "Make his decaffeinated, please."

"You got it." You lean closer still and whisper back.

He chuckles, which is the most you've managed to get from him. You count it as a victory and go back behind the counter to make their drinks. Black coffee is pretty straightforward, but sculpting the little foam cat on top of the ragdoll (which is just a dry cappuccino) takes quite some time. Still, you try to get it as perfect as possible.

When you made your way back to their table, Lucifer had it half covered in important-looking papers. You were especially careful when placing their orders down.

"Working from home today?" You ask him.

He groans and takes a sip of coffee before answering.

"I simply never leave work."

"Well, that can't be healthy," you scolded him. Pretending you were not running on four hours of sleep and half a stale catcake.

"You're one to talk," Satan teases, finally putting down his book to look at your foam art.

You shush him with a fake stern look. He doesn't pay much attention, too preoccupied with getting the right angle on a shot of his book next to the coffee. The teenager had made his lair at your café ever since you let him in that first night. Some days he would arrive in the morning with a book and stay until you closed, holed up with a blanket in the play area. Your regulars all knew him, probably better than they knew you. Now that he had started to go to school again, you wouldn't see him as much in the morning. Still, he came in every afternoon to do homework.

Sometimes he would arrive in the middle of the night, and you would let him in without a word. He found his way to the cats and stayed there until he calmed down. Of course you would shoot Lucifer a text, so he didn't worry. He was a weird kid, but he was good. You'd much rather he crash at your place than run off somewhere else, and Lucifer agreed on that.

"So you guys are having a little date?" You asked them with a mocking tone.

"We're having a meeting, actually." Lucifer piled all the papers together, lining them up in front of him.

"Interesting, with who?" You leaned on the table as you spoke.

"You." Satan smiled up at you.

You pointed at your face with a lifted eyebrow. They both nodded in response.

"Well, I wasn't informed." You straighten up, patting down your apron. "I didn't even iron my clothes today."

"Take a seat, please. We have much to discuss." Satan signaled to one of the empty chairs by his side. He was obviously trying to sound more adult, but his voice was still in that awkward phase. Right in between a squeaky toy and a truck engine.

You looked around to make sure no one needed your help before sitting down. Moving the chair to the end of the table so you could face both of them.

"Satan has presented a pretty convincing case to me, so I come as his representative." Lucifer took out his glasses and looked at you.

You stayed silent, waiting for whatever they had in store for you.

"Running a coffee shop is plenty of work as is; I've seen how early you wake up just to do the baking," Satan started. "And on top of that, you have to take care of an entire animal refuge."

"It's five cats."

"That's a lot to take care of when you're also running around taking orders and making coffee," he reported, quick on his feet. "You surely wouldn't say no to a helping hand, right?"

"I'm not hiring help right now, sorry." You pulled the idea out from the roots before it could grow anymore. "I don't have the money for it, and even if I did, I wouldn't hire a fourteen-year-old."

"You're right, he can't work here," Lucifer said, handing you a paper sheet. "But he can volunteer."

"What is this?" You asked while scanning the paper.

"A non-profit volunteer work declaration." He stated. "You're registered as a nonprofit, right?"

"Technically, but only the cat part. The rest is registered as a retail front." You tried to make sense of all the legal juggling you had to do in order to get the place opened.

"If you fill in your organization's information, I can file that for you and get Satan registered as a volunteer for your cat refuge." He said, handing over another paper. "And if you could sing and date this, I can bring it to school in order to excuse him from PE."

"Why would cleaning litter boxes get him out of PE?" You asked, baffled.

"Any volunteer work counts!" Satan jumped in, sounding pretty excited about the idea. "And I already spend the whole day here; I might as well help out."

"So? What do you say?" Lucifer asked, and they both looked at you expectantly.

"Sure," you said without thinking. You made quick work of filling out and signing all the paperwork.

They both looked at you, surprised.

"I thought it would be harder to convince you," Lucifer said with a stunned expression.

"Don't be silly," you teased, standing up to go back to work. "I could never say no to free child labor."

Thank you for reading ❤️

#dividers by @cafekitsune #OB!HumanAU #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me nightbringer #om! shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #lucifer x reader #reader insert #shall we date satan #satan obey me #obey me satan #obey me human au

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mono-dot-jpeg · 1 year ago

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morning routine - jingyuan

summary; just a lion and his cub waking up

genre/extra tags; fluff, quite a bit of fluff, jingyuan is a single father no drama (/ref), reader is younger than yanqing

[platonic] [5-9 year old! reader] [gender neutral reader]

word count; 523

a/n; this made me realize that i dont remember the last time i watched the lion king. but nonetheless, i am a man of the people and i give them what they want (within reason). it's kind of close to the scene im pretty sure you're talking abt but i just changed it a bit. hope you enjoy!

also i realized, looking at jingyuan's art, mimi has a mane so mimi would realistically be a boy, no? but like mimi is referred to it/its. i mean honestly mimi being a boy is cute to me KSDJKSJ and also it makes sense since mimi had a mane and lionesses dont. whatever-

daylight burns into the window, waking you up earlier than your lazybones dad. but to be fair, anyone could wake up earlier than him. he was a hardworking man. for the most part. but he was a single father too. your father.

you cherish the time you spend with him every day. you may not know everything but he teaches you everything. he tells you of the world you both live in, how there is war and peace, how someday you would have to lead alongside him and yanqing. you were enamored with the world that people have helped build. and you were determined to help protect it.

but for now, you can still be a kid.

"dad!" you press a hand on his face, squishing his cheek. "dad wake up!" you push against him, hearing his grumbling as he turns to face away from you. "dad!" you whined. you brush your head against his heavy white locks as if you were a cat. "we were gonna spend the day together. wake up!"

"you wake up earlier than me, are you sure you're my kid?" he jokes tiredly as he laughs.

"come on! let's go papa!" you climb over him, earning a grunt and groan as you slide off the bed. you make your way to get ready. you see mimi striding out of his bed, yawning and stretching. "hi mimi! good morning!" you greeted the large lion, who brushes against you chuffing a tired greeting. "papa! hurry!" you called out to him, you can hear your father shuffling around the bedroom and grumbling his responses.

you feel yourself get picked up before you can open the bathroom door. you laugh as jingyuan tosses you up for a moment and catches you, holding you under his arm like a sack of flour. "you already have too much energy in the morning. we have some time to relax."

"you promised you would teach me today!" you squirmed in his hold as he opens the door to the bathroom.

"well, let's not get too hasty." he hummed, placing you on your feet and onto your step stool in the bathroom. he doesn't say it out loud but he wonders how much faster you're going to grow up or how much faster you want to grow up. "i'll teach you when the time is right. for now, you have to learn how to be a kid."

"but 'm already a kid! i wanna be like you!" you start to brush your teeth. jingyuan takes his time to get you ready as he's fixing your bedhead and pinching your cheeks, making you whine through your brushing.

he smiles gently, "you don't need to be me. you can be you. the world is yours, alright?" he pats your head as you nodded rapidly.

when you finish brushing your teeth, you raise your arms to him to get carried. he obliges and you hug him tightly. "i'm gonna make this world the best for us!"

"well, you have to get out of your pajamas first for that." he chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours as a sign of affection.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai jing yuan #honkai x reader #honkai jingyuan x reader #jingyuan x reader #hsr jingyuan #hsr jing yuan #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr jingyuan x reader

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nonclassyparty · 11 months ago

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tins without labels - chapter 1 (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba)//click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: drinking, little bit of kissing, descriptions of erm...male genitalia? cursing, cringe fest you've been warned. !word count: 9.3k taglist: @maru-matt @yawnzshit @mcsalterego @ddaeing @downbadreading @btshook (sorry if i forgot anyone but pls reply if u want to be added!)

previous chapter

(chapter 1; when we feel each other up)

Got different people inside my head, I wonder which one that they like best, I'm done with tryna have it all, and ending up with not much at all

present time (21 and 23 years old);

There was a really ugly drawing framed and hanging on the wall at the doctor's office.

It was a house tilting to one side with three stick figurines whose shoes were far too big next to it with strokes of green thrown everywhere which you presume is supposed to be grass. It was drawn by crayons.

You presume it's an art piece made by the doctor's kid but you hope she realizes early on that her daughter or son doesn't really have a proclivity for the arts.

But then again, maybe they will later on. Maybe they'll stand out amongst their peers and be further encouraged by their parents. Maybe they'll even take private lessons to get better. Maybe they'll get into art school and have the professor praise them up on how their talent is extremely rare. Maybe they'll even win some awards.

And then, maybe someone will break their hand so badly that they never get to hold a brush again.

Alright, now you were just projecting.

But what else is there to do as you sit in the almost sterile office with your dad by your side as the doctor keeps going on and on with a somber expression on her face. You're sure Doctor Son is a nice lady, if you were paying attention you'd maybe notice that she tries to break the news extra gently but you're barely listening.

There's been a lot of "it was more serious than we first thought", "rehabilitation will be a long and steady process", "a new excellent physical therapist works at the sports center on campus so she'll be able to visit him a couple times a week, we've already made sure that he gives all of his attention to her" and the most gruesome one, "another even minor injury and there's a risk of her not being able to walk again."

You don't really have to be paying too much attention to know what the underlined thought is.

No more football.

The persistent ache in your left knee serves a constant reminder of what happened almost four months ago, it was the last game of the season. Little did you know it might be the last game of your measly career.

You refuse to look at your dad, feeling the sadness radiate off of him like it does every time he speaks to any of the doctors you've visited in the past four months.

And it's been a lot of doctors.

The fact that you spent the whole summer at home for the first time since you finished high school didn't help. All he did was coddle you and stare in pity and disappointment. Or try to be overly positive and enthusiastic about your recovery.

You didn't know which was worse.

After the final doctor's appointment before the start of the new semester which you leave with barely saying a word during the almost half an hour you're there, you and your dad get lunch at a dinner just off campus.

The thick holder containing scans, blood tests, surgery papers and whatnot, lies on the table between the two of you and you feel like nothing could cut through the thick silence.

Your dad, of course, tries.

"You can still have an amazing career in education, you know? Your mother was a teacher and she loved her job."

It's just sometimes, your father really doesn't know how to beat around the bush and in this moment, you wish he did.

"Right." Is all you say.

Neither one of you comments on what you both know. Which is that you didn't give a fuck about your major in education. Sure, you had passing grades but that is because you needed to study something to stay on the team and not because you were actually interested.

Football was always the bigger picture, the real goal.

"You can always switch majors?" He offers and you nod again, thanking the waiter when he brings two bowls of noodles to your table.

You don't want to say that switching majors in your third year of college seems like a complete waste, of both money and time.

He sighs and you know he's frustrated with you, you understand it as well but you can't control it. Talking about your career, now that your dream career is over and done with, is an extremely sore subject.

"You know what, you've been working so hard since before you even started college, you deserve to rest."

"I've been resting since May." You respond and he winces at the mention of May. When it all fell apart.

"That wasn't rest. It was recovery." You give him a bland look and he sighs again, "I'm just saying! Maybe you'll discover something else you like to do this semester."

"Doubtful." You murmur, the reality finally sinking in at least a little.

"It's not doubtful at all." Your dad scoffs, taking a slurp of his noodles. "You're twenty-one, your life just begun, I'm sure there are other things to do and new people to meet. You wouldn't know if you never even tried."

"Dad-"

"Get yourself a boyfriend. Go to parties. Find yourself some friends who aren't talking behind your back in the locker room-"

"They weren't my friends-"

"Live your life. Is my point. Don't be cooped up in your bedroom, refusing to see anyone like you were doing the whole summer. Just...try, at least." He is silently begging now and now, it's your time to sigh.

"Fine."

"Who knows...you might discover that football isn't all there is to life."

You go silent at that, embarrassed of your own thoughts on the matter so you just keep them to yourself.

You flip through the pages of the magazine that you've read front to back at least four times by now before throwing it on your bed.

Your dad left earlier this afternoon after you've settled into your dorm and since then you've just been lounging on your bed, trying to busy yourself with knick-knacks that you have lying around so the time could pass faster.

You adjust the ice pack on your knee a bit better and with a soft sigh, your eyes fall on your roommate.

Yunjin was sitting behind her desk that was pushed up right next to your identical one and was busy doing her makeup. Carefully applying a pretty shade to her eyelids as she moves her desk mirror to her liking.

She was getting ready to go to a party no doubt. It was the last Friday before the new semester after all and Yunjin was a frequent party goer from what you could tell in these years living together.

Yunjin and you have been roommates since freshman year and yet, you've barely spoken to each other. Always sticking to your sides of the generously sized dorm room, you guess it's because you don't have much in common with each other that you never tried to be friends.

You didn't know much about her if you were honest, just that she majored in political science, often dyed her hair and had a lot of friends. You were sort of the complete opposites from what you could tell.

But since she kept renewing her contract for the room with you every year, you think it's safe to assume that she at least doesn't mind you all too much.

Just...try, at least.

You clear your throat. Here you go...

"You, uh, you do your makeup really prettily." It's out of your mouth before you know it, you already feel awkward as it is but when your red haired roommate turns to you in surprise that maybe you even spoke in the first place - the awkwardness triples.

"Oh." Yunjin utters with raised brows before a tiny, careful smile settles on her face. "Thank you."

So...now what?

You both stare at each other for a long hard second and you hesitate, thinking it's best to leave it at that. Keeping up a conversation was never your strongest suit either. Now that you think of it, apart from football, you don't have any strong suits at all.

"I, uh, I had a lot of practice." She offers awkwardly, motioning to her face with the eyeshadow brush wedged gently between her fingers.

"Right, yeah, I can totally see that." You nod, surprised that she responded back with something that almost sounds like she wants the conversation to keep going. You clear your throat, "The eyeliner and stuff, seems tricky."

It seems like that was all it took for the ice to disapparate for Yunjin because next thing you know, she's rambling without a plan to stop;

"Oh, that's just at the beginning, the first couple of tries I mean and that goes for everything makeup related or, hm, maybe everything life related as well, wow." Yunjin shakes her head as if life philosophies were certainly not more important than a perfect winged eyeliner, "But anyways, I was looking like a panda for the majority of my junior year in high school." She chuckles at that, not looking embarrassed at all, "Had those thick eyebrows as well, it was a complete disaster. But the longer I wore makeup, the better I got at it and the more I learned what suited my face."

You clutch the pillow in your lap as you diligently listen to her, feeling like a younger sibling watching her older sister get ready for a party.

"People say eyeliner isn't in fashion anymore, like it's an old makeup trend or whatever," Yunjin rolls her eyes at you and you chuckle lightly, shyly because you had no idea what was in trend, "Such bullshit, I'll never stop wearing it. It looks so good on me."

She observes the perfect thin wings decorating her eyelids and almost sighs a little in admiration.

You nod in agreement, not being able to stop yourself, "You have big eyes so the eyeliner frames them perfectly. It suits you."

Yunjin smiles happily, "Right? I totally look like Jihyo from TWICE, right?"

You hesitate, having no idea what Jihyo from TWICE looked like but you don't have the heart to sway her happiness so you just give her a small nod.

You continue to chat, mostly Yunjin talks, and by the amount she seems to have to say to you, you start to think that maybe all this time it wasn't that Yunjin avoided getting to know you because she wasn't interested in knowing her roommate. It seems like she had the idea that you had no interest into getting to know her, so she never bothered.

Once she's done with her makeup and she looks over herself in her precious small round mirror standing on her desk in satisfaction, she turns to you with a glare.

It's not a glare as if you've wronged her somehow but a glare of curiosity and seemingly not taking 'no' for an answer. You raise your brows.

Her glare deepens, one inquisitive but perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Oh," You huff out, for some reason embarrassed that she's aware you're a complete klutz in that department, "I don't know."

"Hm, why not? You might like it. Makeup is fun!"

"No, I know I'll like it." Your cheeks flush, embarrassment growing at the thought of her thinking that you're one of those girls who thinks she's better for not being interested in makeup. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. "I just...won't I look stupid?"

"Stupid?" Yunjin frowns as if the idea is ridiculous and maybe it was a little. "Why would you look stupid? I'm basically a pro at this, I wouldn't let you look stupid."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything about your...y'know, skills." You grimace when she continues to stare at you, not really in the mood to disclose that ever since a stupid teenage boy named Son Eunwoo laughed at you at prom for trying to look pretty that you've given up on it as it obviously didn't suit you all that much. "Just, y'know, people will think I look silly if I wear it. It's not my thing...y'know?"

There's a faint moment of silence and you cast your eyes somewhere else as you feel awkward all over again for ruining the relaxed mood. Finally, Yunjin speaks,

"Y/N," She calls quietly, face set in a serious expression when you bring your eyes up to her again, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

You blink at her a couple of times, mouth parted as she sits in her chair, perfectly curled hair and perfectly applied makeup, and waits for your response.

"I'll go wash my face."

"Yes, you go do that and don't forget to moisturize."

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for Yunjin to do your makeup. Before she starts, you carefully tell her you don't want too much and she says she'll ask before everything she applies if you want it or not.

And she really does.

She places a little bit of foundation just to cover the natural redness of your cheeks and the couple of small pimples that appeared on your chin. She foregoes contouring because you tell her you don't want that, not sure what's the purpose of it.

She goes a little bit crazy with the eyeshadows though, maybe she notices that you have the most interest in them. Glitter especially. It makes your eyes look glossy, almost wet but you're sure you're not describing that properly.

She even does some thin eyeliner on you, some mascara, brushes out your eyebrows but doesn't fill them out because you tell her you don't like them looking sharp. Some blush, a pretty light orange color that decorates your cheeks in a way that it surprises you by how good it looks on your face. And at the end, some lip gloss to finish everything off.

All through out, you two talk. About school, about your hometowns, about your parents.

It's bonding, you realize.

You never bonded with anyone through makeup before, it was usually over football with Ryujin or gossiping over the people you knew from school because that's what you had in common with her. But football is gone now, so is high school and for years now, so was Ryujin.

It was hard to keep up with a friendship that was out of necessity in the first place, even harder when there's an entire ocean separating you now.

But with Yunjin, although you seemingly have nothing much in common, the conversation just flows with each soft stroke of a brush or pat on the cheek.

"See!" She hands you her round mirror to look at yourself, "You look so good!"

"Oh," You muse out, staring at the reflection, admiring the glitter and shimmer and all the colors you're not used to having on your face, "I like it."

"Now, don't get me wrong!" She warns quickly with her hands up, painted nails glistening under the shitty dorm lights, "You look good without makeup too. Well," She rolls her eyes at herself, "You obviously know that since you don't wear it at all as it is but like, if you sometimes want to wear it, you'll know now that it won't look stupid on you."

You chuckle shyly at her short rant, placing the mirror back on her desk.

You wished Yunjin's words of affirmation would be enough to rid you of all your insecurities regarding makeup or...anything 'girly', they don't but you don't have the heart to tell her that. "Thanks."

She nods in response before checking her phone for the time apparently. She throws it on her bed before clapping her hands, "Well, since you already have your makeup done, you might as well go to this party with me."

That leaves you stumped. You turn to look at her from the chair in front of her desk. Party? "Wait, what?"

Yunjin doesn't even grace you with a look, standing in front of her closet which was flung open as she sorts through different materials and patterned clothes.

"Come on L/N, brush your hair out and get into a pair of jeans that make your ass look great." Her head peaks out from behind the door of her closet, she winks at you, "I'll worry about your top."

You really don't know how this happened. You don't know how you ended up here, in the jeans that hugged your hips and thighs the tightest and in the most preposterously skimpy top you have ever worn with your brushed out long hair falling over your back and your lips tinted a deep glossy red. You were a willing participant in it but you really have no idea how this happened.

"I don't think this is an appropriate outfit." You tell Yunjin as you look over yourself in the tall mirror which you both share. "I don't think this shirt is supposed to be worn like this."

"Actually," Yunjin said as she fixed her skirt in the mirror behind you and paid no mind to your ongoing breakdown, "For the last three months I thought I got scammed by the online shop I ordered that top from because it looked nothing like the photos on me but now looking at you, I'm starting to realize that the online shop is legit and that I simply didn't have the tits to fill it out."

You spluttered about at her commentary as you stared at the outfit, wondering if it would be rude to chicken out on her now.

Your light blue denim flare jeans and white sneakers looked totally acceptable. They were yours after all.

The shirt, the offending bright red sleeveless low cut crop top that almost had your boobs out completely for the whole entire world to see, on the other hand, was certainly not.

You don't think you've ever worn something so short, so tight, so...revealing. In your life.

It's not even that you felt uncomfortable in it, really, you thought you looked hot but it just....wasn't You.

And at that point, you had to remind your self very strongly that you had no idea what You actually was. Football was no more (at least for the near future but you have an inkling it's for forever) and maybe the you that was tied to it and that the rest of your small world knew should rest for a little bit while you explore what other you's are there.

Beats moping around and feeling sorry for yourself, at least.

Yes. You will try your hardest not to care what anyone else might think tonight. You looked good. Sexy as fuck, as Yunjin said.

It wasn't all she said. Yunjin, as you begin to find out in the last hour you've actually spoken to her, is the best when it comes to making a girl feel good about herself.

"God, Y/N, your body is crazy." You hear her say as she pulls your hand away from your stomach that was bare since the skimpy shirt or jeans didn't cover it. She stares at your abs. "Do you still workout?"

Still. Meaning she also knows you're a retired athlete at only twenty-one years of age. Once again, you have to try your best to not let that reminder dampen your mood.

"Thanks." You respond clearing your throat, giving her a weak smile. "Yeah, I workout five times a week."

You don't mention the physical therapy you're about to start next week or the fact that all your workouts are under strict supervision ever since the injury happened. That, starting from next week, two other people will be responsible of you staying in shape.

It's so pitiful, you're so used to doing everything on your own.

"Five?!" Yunjin's jaw drops before she scoffs, looking at her body in the mirror with overly critical eyes.

Yunjin seemed to be naturally on the skinnier side, she didn't have any muscle built up. Not like you, years of doing football made your physique change, your body looked amazing - you were aware of that. Personal trainers, coaches both male and female told you so at least....'Defined thighs, defined stomach, toned arms...'. You heard enough about your body to know that it looked good.

It took years of sweat and regular gym hours to make it that way though and you feel bad that Yunjin seems to be comparing it to her own.

"When I was in my best shape, I had a whole team of people working with me from diet to workouts, that includes my coach as well." You chuckle lightly, as she turns her eyes from her stomach to you, "Everyone was expecting me to go pro so...The university invested a lot in me."

You force out another laugh, not trying to turn an attempt to stop the comparisons into a pity party. "Even now when I won't be playing, I'll have two people working with me."

When all you get in return is a dumbfounded stare, you groan feeling like you read the situation incorrectly. Your social cues still need some catching up to do.

So, there's nothing left to do when you feel so uncomfortable but ramble and it's what you do best, you will be quick to learn.

"This is stupid, I don't know if that's what you were doing and I'll feel like shit if I say it but ended up assuming it wrong but I'll say it anyway just in case; if you were comparing yourself to me, don't, I had professionals working with me for the past three years. Professionals that are extremely expensive and finished schools and shit to learn how to make people look hot and fit, so...." You trail off, avoiding her eyes at all cost and scratching behind your neck awkwardly.

The silence is so long that it almost wills you to run out of the room and maybe ask for a permanent roommate change, just to beat Yunjin to the punch. Instead, you hear a stifled giggle.

You glance at her just to see your roommate bite back a grin.

You huff, cheeks turning red from the embarrassment because you barely speak but when you do, it's really almost always complete and utter shit, as you try to hide your own smile.

"You're a nice girl, Y/N."

"Yeah, yeah." You huff, always terrible at taking compliments, "So are you, I guess."

She snorts at your awkwardness but doesn't further comment on it as she rummages through her jewelry box and pokes big hoop earrings on.

"And you can keep that shirt if you want...God, I hate you big boobed bitches." You let out a surprised laugh at that as she rummages some more through her jewelry box. "Do you have any earrings for yourself? I'd offer you a necklace but I think it's hotter if your neck is bare honestly."

"Um," You approach your desk and pull out your mom's jewelry box with a humble amount of items in it. You show her your tiny golden hoops, "What about these?"

"Yeah, those are great. Put those on and let's get ready to go, Chaewon might be dancing on tables by now."

As you lock the door to your dorm and turn to leave, Yunjin intertwines your arms as you both walk down the hall crowded by college students either going in or going out.

New girl friend, not so bad, you think to yourself.

Chaewon is not dancing on tables when you get there. You don't exactly know who Chaewon is but there's nobody dancing on tables in the crowded frat house you've walked into. You don't know anyone there, you thought you might see some girls from your team at least despite not getting along with them the best but you don't.

Yunjin, on the other hand, seems to know everyone.

She greets every living soul in the dusty, stuffy living room and every living soul greets her back. You guess it's safe to say that your roommate slash new girl friend is very popular with the party crowd at your campus.

As it's your first ever college party, you just follow her around like a lost puppy but she never makes you feel like a lost puppy, instead, she introduces you to every person that comes to chat with her even though you can hardly remember their names. You appreciate that more than you'd like to admit.

You end up in the kitchen which is less crowded but still has a handful of people in it where Yunjin shoves the classic red party cup in your hand and clinks it with her matching one, telling you to drink up.

At least you're not a complete virgin in this area. You drank before, you weren't an expert or anything because alcohol is limited for athletes but still, it's one of the first 'not first's of the night.

You meet Chaewon who is bubbly and cute with her bob and sparkly eyes. She's not nearly as drunk as Yunjin led you to believe she would be. When you comment on it, Chaewon smacks Yunjin's arm jokingly.

"You've made the girl think I'm an alcoholic or something." She scolds your roommate with a smirk before turning to you, smile back to complete innocence, "I don't even drink that much, Y/N. Honest."

Yunjin comes closer to mutter in your ear, "She's a liar, it's just that she's trying to be sober to see if the guy she's into comes alone tonight."

"Oh!" You nod and give Chaewon a reassuring smile as she goes beet red in the face and glares at Yunjin who continues to tease her.

You were about to tell Yunjin that you much prefer the crowd in the kitchen than the living room area and that you'd hope to stay here a bit more but you don't get a chance to.

Loud hoots echo through the kitchen and you turn your head to see what the ruckus is all about only to see the bane of your very existence walk in with a wide smile along with a group of other guys, greeting everyone like he's the king of the world and with the way everyone in the room treats him - he might as well be.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would be considered the life of the party.

He can be! You don't give a fuck! But why did it have to be the first party that you are attending.

You try to hide your scowl by taking another sip of your drink, trying your hardest not to let your eyes trace his movements from the other side of the kitchen island but one second your eyes are coasting over his ridiculous outfit (which he looks damn near scrumptious in but that's besides the point and something you will never admit that you ever thought about for even a second) and the next thing you know - his eyes are meeting yours.

You quickly whip your head to stare into the living room, feeling the edge of the counter dig into your back.

Yunjin and Chaewon are talking about something, laughing loudly through the noisy room and you're trying to hard to keep up with their conversation but that turns out to be impossible now that you're aware of a certain menace lurking about.

And lo and behold, quickly enough he skulks away from his group of friends and sneaks up to your side in three long strides.

"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me or is this Y/N Y/L/N at a frat house party?"

You stand rigid as his clothed elbow brushes your bare one but otherwise don't give him any further acknowledgement. Yunjin, from your freshly learned discovery is ever the social butterfly, grins with an eyeroll.

"Don't be a dick, Wooyoung."

Oh. Oh.

Yunjin knows Wooyoung. Well, that makes just about everything a thousand times worse.

"What? I didn't say anything." Jung Wooyoung defends with a smug smile from next to you before giving Chaewon a charming (or at least what might be charming by some people's standards, definitely not yours or anything) smile. "Chaewon, hello."

She stifles a laugh, "Hi, Wooyoung."

You're irritated to the highest degree for some reason.

Why were you never on the receiving end of his charming smiles? Again, charming by some people's standards. Let it be known, it's not by yours. Not that you want to be on the receiving end of any kind of Jung Wooyoung smile but just...why aren't you ever?

"Can't believe you two managed to get babyface over here out of her room for once." He comments and for a second you have no idea who he's referring to. Until Chaewon laughs lightly again before motioning towards Yunjin.

"That's all Yunjin. I just met Y/N, actually."

"Lucky you." Wooyoung adds and only after his second mischievous glance do you realize they're talking about you.

"Babyface?" You turn to him, growing outraged as his lips stretch into a wide grin. What is it with him and these weird nicknames which all contain the word 'baby' in them. What happened to calling you a troll like he did in middle school and moving about his night?

He shrugs, "I reckon it's better than crybaby."

"You reckon?" You scoff, not being able to stop yourself. Not even a full minute with him and you're already showcasing the gnarly childish side of yourself to girls you were hoping would become your friends. "Wow, how many years of college and you're finally using big words, Jung."

Wooyoung, for reasons you could never wrap your head around, looks positively delighted at your quip. "If you think 'reckon' is a big word then I have no further comments, Y/L/N."

You flush a deep red at that as a glare fully sets down on your face, aimed entirely towards him now. He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing which only makes you grow redder.

"So, you two know each other?" You forgot for a split second that the two of you were in the presence of your new friends. Yunjin stares at you with brows raised.

With a solemn sigh, you respond, "We were neighbours."

"We still are." Wooyoung adds, cozying up to you further. You watch in contempt the way his shoulder brushes yours and his arm lays on the kitchen island behind you, one wrong move and his arm would be around your waist. Seriously, why is he so damn close?

To your own embarrassment, you find yourself not moving away, liking his warmth and whatnot. Maybe, he smells nice as well. Just a little bit. Something citrusy and delicious. Whatever.

"Oh?" Yunjin asks, looking awfully too interested in your relationship with Wooyoung. Not that there is a relationship. Your brows furrow as you observe the way she silently communicates with Chaewon.

"What?" You ask, lost entirely.

Chaewon gives you the same, overly enthusiastic smile, "Oh, nothing."

Wooyoung's chest shakes against you from silent laughter about something you must've missed and you turn to glare at him. He didn't do anything, you just felt like it.

A couple of minutes of conversation pass and you find yourself even enjoying it, despite the little nuisance stuck to your side. It's been awhile since you hung out with anybody, you never thought you even needed it but you think you understand now the hype around these college weekend hangouts.

Until it somehow dips to Yunjin and Chaewon ditching you.

"Y/N, remember that guy Yunjin was talking to you about? The one I have a crush on?" You nod as Chaewon talks against your ear, "Well, he just got here and Yunjin and I will go say hi to him."

"Oh, I'll come with!" You say pathetically before Yunjin loudly exclaims "NO!"

"No, Y/N, you stay right here with Wooyoung, okay?" She motions to the guy next to you, "You two seem to have so much in common!"

She's giving you a weird smile, overly wide, overly excited and you have trouble reading what she's trying to tell you, not knowing her nearly enough to be able to read girl code already.

You can barely get a word in and they're already gone, whisked by the living room crowd and you're stuck with Jung Wooyoung of all people by your side, feeling completely and utterly stupid.

They...ditched you? Did Yunjin regret inviting you? Did she find you embarrassing? Maybe you should just go home.

A deep sigh is heard by your side and you're once again reminded with who they left you with.

"Y/L/N, they didn't ditch you. They don't hate you or whatever it is that you scrambled up in that big head of yours, they're trying to set you up with me." Wooyoung lazily explains from your right and you turn to look at him like he's crazy. What surprises you more than his statement is the fact that he's actually sticking by your side.

"What? Set you up with me?" You scoff, crossing your bare arms over your chest, "Don't be ridiculous."

He snorts, "You'd rather think they ditched you than trying to get you laid?"

You go silent at that. Laid. How preposterous. How insane and how ridiculous.

It's another thing that you're a complete virgin to. Literally and figuratively. You've never went with a boy past a clumsy make out session. Get laid, you scoff inwardly, how silly.

Suddenly, you're aware of a pair of eyes on the side of your face and you're not surprised to find Jung Wooyoung staring at you in amusement. With all your defenses up, you ask, "What?"

His eyes twinkle with mirth. "I didn't say anything."

Another moment of silence between the two of you passes. Some guy comes to greet Wooyoung, he gives you a small nod in greeting which you return and after some small talk between the two of them he walks away, leaving you two alone once again in the middle of the semi-crowded kitchen.

Wooyoung inches closer to you again, mirroring your stance now by leaning against the island with his back. "Is being alone with me that scary that you refuse to talk?"

"Scary?" You scoff again, it's all you seem to do in his presence, without even looking at him. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Jung, you're not nearly as intimidating as you like to think you are."

"Who said I thought I was intimidating?" He asks calmly, enjoying the way you're riled up for no apparent reason.

You don't answer his question, aware that you're being a bitch for no reason. But it's his fault if anything, years of juvenile fights made Jung Wooyoung bring out the worst in you.

"These parties don't seem like they're all that." You comment, more to yourself than anything but he's obviously listening so you decide to include him in the conversation. "Don't you get bored of them?"

Wooyoung hums from next to you, lightly swaying to the music from the living room as he hands you a cold cup of...something and takes one for himself as well. It feels weird that he actually is sort of attentive by getting you a drink when he noticed your empty cup on the island. You decide not to dwell on it too much.

"Bored? Not really, they get repetitive but there's always something fun to do." He responds, mouth quirking up as he looks down at you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips just in time for his tongue to swipe across his bottom lip. You look away quickly.

Clearing your throat, for the life of you, you have no idea why you nod to a couple in the corner right next to the kitchen almost having intercourse against a wall. "Like that?"

Wooyoung snickers and you feel yourself flush slightly but you blame it on the drink which is...much better than whatever Yunjin handed to you at the beginning of the night. "Don't blame people for having fun, Y/L/N."

You turn to him with your nose crinkled, "That's your idea of fun?"

Wooyoung seems a bit surprised and yet strangely intrigued by the course of the conversation. Maybe you are too but in this moment, it feels all too exhilarating with him being so close and you being a complete and utter virgin and all. God, if Chaewon and Yunjin left you here in hopes of getting you laid, maybe they were right.

There's no reason to be acting like this around Jung Wooyoung.

Honestly, what is wrong with you Y/N? Maybe you really should fuck someone. You'd stop thinking about Jung Wooyoung this way and lose your virginity at last.

Two birds with one stone.

"I know lots of ideas of fun." Wooyoung starts before he gives you that devastating grin of his that you despised even as a lovesick teenage girl as he subtly nods to the couple, still at it in the corner, "That is one of them. Although I'd at least take it up to one of the bedrooms upstairs."

Your nose crinkles in disgust again at the thought of the state of the beds in these dirty testosterone filled frat houses. "Gross, they probably don't even change the sheets."

"My apartment is two blocks away." Wooyoung adds, a little too quickly in your, once again completely virgin, opinion. "I always have that option as well, y'know?"

You blink a couple of times, staring at the kitchen tiles as you start thinking that you're not talking about his ideas of fun only anymore.

Was he-? Is he trying to-? No. No way. Do not.

"Right." You say quietly, taking a tiny sip of your drink before smacking your lips.

There is no way that in any shape or form Jung Wooyoung is attempting to flirt with you.

He's quiet for only a couple of seconds before two other guys approach him, doing those weird half hugs half handshakes that assholes like Jung Wooyoung use to greet their friends. Which he seems to have a bunch of. Mr. Popular he is.

While they converse, your eyes are still stuck on the couple making out in the corner of the room and to not seem like a complete and utter creep, you draw your eyes away from them into the living room where...all you seem to see are couples.

Flirting. Kissing. Grinding on each other (Gross). Humping on the couch (Double Gross, you're sure people use that to sit on ordinary days). Clumsily walking up the stairs with their hands already on each other's clothes (Triple Gross). They're all going to have sex!

Meanwhile, you're a virgin. Not by choice either, if it were up to you you'd grab the first guy you see right this second and let him fuck you just to get it over with. It's not like you're saving yourself for someone special or anything. Too bad that they all seem to be taken one way or another and the only guy you've spent the whole night talking to is-

Wait.

Nononono.

But-

Wait.

You turn to observe Jung Wooyoung by your side, who is still talking to his two buddies. None of them paying you any mind.

As you mentioned before, there was a general consensus going around that Jung Wooyoung was good looking. You've seen him only a handful times since that night he dropped you off home after prom even if you're both on the same campus but you can admit (although you'll outwardly deny it if anybody asks) that he has gotten even hotter.

His face lost all of his baby fat with years that went by, his jawline got sharper and lips plusher. His eyes were expressive and the mole under one of them was cute. His hair was still long, you don't know if he cut it after prom night and just let it grow out again or if this was simply the length her preferred, now all black but it suited him immensely.

He had nice hands as well. Veiny hands, long fingers with nice and tidy nails. And you might've called his outfit ridiculous but you only did it to fulfill your role as his self-appointed enemy, it wasn't that ridiculous. Just a pair of baggy jeans and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. You guess he knows that he has sexy hands. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, making sure to showcase the naturally tanned smooth skin underneath and a necklace decorating his collarbones.

This...whore.

A man that plays up his good physical attributes this well could be nothing else but a man that gets around a lot.

When you notice that you've spent a good two minutes doing nothing but checking Jung Wooyoung out, you notice that his two friends have left already and he's holding his red cup while staring at you with an amused smirk on his face.

"What now?" He asks and you part your lips before licking them, almost shivering when you catch Wooyoung following the action closely.

Well, your dad did say that should live your life and try at least. His words, not yours!

Although when he said them, you are most definitely sure your dad didn't think you'd ever be applying them when asking Jung Wooyoung to take your virginity but what he doesn't know won't put him in an early grave.

You are twenty-one years old and among a lot of other things, you are horny. It's time to get a move on.

"I'm going to ask you something now and for once," You let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you can't believe you're about to do this before opening them to level Jung Wooyoung with an open stare as you inch closer to him to make sure he can hear every word, "Just this once, I ask of you, nicely, to not be a dick about it. If you're not up for it, just...just let me down gently. Don't laugh at me, please, just tell me no and we'll forget it ever happened."

All traces of amusement leave Wooyoung's eyes after your all-too-honest speech and he turns to rest his hip against the kitchen island to be face to face with you. He looks serious and asks quietly, "What do you wanna ask me, Y/L/N?"

You take a deep breath, feeling undeniably nervous under his heavy gaze. "Those ideas of fun you mentioned before, the ones involving your apartment...."

Wooyoung presses the rim of the cup against his lower lip, teeth gently grazing it before he takes a sip. He nods, looking a little confused as he swallows, teeth coming back to bite on the cup.

"Mind showing me?"

It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, it only takes another second for the mischief in his eyes to triple and lips placed against the rim of his red cup to stretch into a wide breathtaking smile.

Wooyoung had an inkling of an idea where the course of the night would take him when he first left his apartment. Have a drink or two, mess about with the guys for a few hours and maybe if he was up to it, find someone to take home.

But this... if someone told him this would happen, he'd burst out laughing and call that person crazy. Insane. Deranged. A lunatic.

Really, he had no idea how the hell this happened.

This being two handfuls of your jean-covered ass in his hands, tongue shoved deep into your mouth as he pushes you against his hallway wall and swallows every tiny sound you make while your hands tug and rake through his hair.

He's pretty sure your dark red lip gloss is all over his cheeks from how messy and rushed the kissing is. Everything tastes like artificial cherries, a taste too sweet for Wooyoung's liking accompanied by a tinge of vodka and lemonade that you've both been drinking.

Your hands are soft when they run over his jaw and latch onto his shoulders, he swallows another surprisingly sweet whine of yours and slips a leg between your thighs. Embarrassingly enough, Wooyoung is already hard and once his hands slip from your ass to your hips just to feel the way you move them as you grind against his thigh - he fears he might finish in his pants.

Yeah, if at the start of the night someone told him that Y/L/N Y/N would be dry humping him in the hallway of his small studio apartment after he went out of his way to keep her company at a party, he surely would've dialed the nearest psychiatric institution to take that person in for much needed treatment.

When you reward him with a whimper that goes straight to his dick for placing a kiss underneath your ear, Wooyoung starts coating your neck in slow hot kisses and bites that leave you trembling in his arms.

He's been (as subtly as he could) staring at the naked skin that your shirt revealed for the majority of the night anyway so, truly, this isn't much of a chore for him.

When his teeth gently graze your clavicle, he pulls away for just a moment and realizes he's finally gotten a front seat view of your tits.

Jesus Christ.

When the fuck did you become hot?

Wooyoung always found you cute at most. And fine, he thought you were pretty too that night he drove you home from your prom night. But that's where it all ended. He didn't think about you all too much in any other way given your history and barely saw you as it is.

Looking at you now...your hooded eyes that glittered around the corners. Flushed cheeks and heavy breaths that made his head spin. Disheveled long hair that fell down your back and that he wanted to tangle his fingers in (which he quickly did as soon as that thought appeared, no time like the present!). And those fucking tits covered with nothing but a sorry excuse for a shirt that clung to your torso.

Wow.

It really must be true when they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Although there's little heart involved in this situation and a whole lot of thinking with his dick.

He pulls the thick strap of your top a little and watches at it smacks against your skin gently. You keep quiet, breaths still heavy as you watch him.

"This shirt is fucking ridiculous, Y/L/N."

No time left for talking, his fingers curl around your waist again as he bends down to place kisses against your chest. You both probably smell like smoke, sweat and booze but there's a soft layer of vanilla mixed into it the closer he gets to you and Wooyoung finds himself not minding the combination.

"I-It looks bad?"

It's the first words you've spoken since you stumbled into his apartment and Wooyoung has to pause, almost in disbelief. His first reaction is annoyance, not pegging you as the type of girl to fish for compliments by acting insecure even though she knows very well she looks delectable.

But then, the more he stares, the more he notices the way you twitch in his hold, shifting your gaze around his face in order to avoid his eyes, his annoyance disappears. You are insecure about the shirt. You are genuinely wondering whether or not it looks good on you.

And Wooyoung is nothing, if not ready to please at all times.

"I wanna drag it off of you with my teeth." He says the honest truth, hating the way his voice is low and husky. What the fuck is he doing. Why is he breathing so heavily?

The blush that overtakes you doesn't stop at your face but slowly curls around your neck and appears at the top of your chest. He hums, satisfied with the reaction he got before going back to business.

The business being your marvelous tits.

With his hand still curled around your waist as he lowers down so his forehead is basically resting on your bare chest, he groans once he thumbs over your left breast and feels a hard nipple under the material.

"Are you not wearing anything under this?" He murmurs against your skin, groaning again once he feels your fingers intertwine with his hair. Wooyoung doesn't wait for a response but roughly pulls one of the thick straps down your arm and places a hand over your naked breast feeling its weight in his hand.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He thumbs at your nipple, liking the soft moan that escapes you at the action as you continue to grind against his clothed thigh.

"Y-Yunjin said it didn't need a-a bra." You stutter out through a whisper and he places a soft kiss to the middle of your chest as if to soothe you before returning his attention to what's really important.

God bless Yunjin then. Wooyoung should remind himself to buy her that chicken sandwich she likes so much tomorrow morning.

His thumb rubs over the hard pink nipple one last time before its enveloped by his lips, tongue twirling around it and arm tightening around your waist as your breath hitches and you twitch even more in his hold.

When you let out a high pitched moan once his teeth gently graze the soft bud, Wooyoung thinks he'll send Yunjin a whole damn buffet to her dorm.

Wooyoung releases your nipple with a 'pop' that makes you groan lewdly and he scrambles to stand up to his full height to get the offending red shirt off your body.

"Off." He mutters and you quickly grab the ends of the shirt to pull it off, needing Wooyoung's help since it was genuinely so tight on your torso.

With your hair disheveled even more now and bare chest on full display, Wooyoung almost kneels down in front of you.

His dick ached.

"Oh my fucking God." He mutters, burying his face into your chest as he licked and kissed and sucked and...

"Bed." You whisper through a moan, tugging at his hair. You grit out almost bossily, "B-Bed!"

"Bed?" Wooyoung looks down on you in confirmation, body now completely pressed against yours and when he sees your wide, desperate but sure eyes, he quickly nods. "Bed."

His lips are back on yours again, hand grasping at your jaw as he pulls you from the wall and leads you further into his studio apartment. The bed was only a couple of feet away anyways.

You grunt against his lips as you trip over something and he pushes it away with his foot (it was a sneaker that fell out of place as he was getting ready in a hurry), continuing to lead the way to his bed.

"You take off your shirt too." You whisper, almost shyly which causes something warm to swirl in his stomach. He obeys quickly, dropping his shirt to your feet before pulling you in with a hand at the back of your neck, biting at your lower lip and letting out a small laugh as you gasp.

"Pants too." You add innocently and he huffs, growing amused at your bossy nature even in the bedroom.

So, of course, he'll be a little shit about it.

Wooyoung drops himself on the bed, thanking God he changed his sheets this morning, and obnoxiously spreads out his legs. He observes you with a tilted head and a grin on his face, "Why don't you take them off?"

You lick your lips at the request, feeling like it's awfully hot in the room despite the fact that you're not wearing a shirt. You without a shirt in front of Jung Wooyoung with your tits on full display was another thing that you weren't ready to unpack just yet.

He's beautiful.

Wooyoung's skin is a pretty color of fresh honey and you carefully step closer, between his legs, to place a hand on his firm chest and feel his velvety skin. He watches your every move with hooded eyes, holding himself up with his arms placed behind him on the bed.

There's a tattoo on the side of his ribs, one that you would never know about unless you see him like this, so you run a thumb over it in admiration. Still, you don't want to take too long at the risk of coming off as weird, so with all the bravery you can muster - your hand drops to the button of his jeans and you gently (because of your fucking knee) lower yourself down to sit between his legs.

You thumb it open and pull the zipper down, shivering at the way Wooyoung's lips part and he softly exhales in what seems to be anticipation. You further flush when you finally get to see the outline of his....well, his dick.

You felt it against your hip, when you were kissing by the entrance door but you didn't have the guts to ever look down.

When Wooyoung lifts his hips up to help you get his pants off, you realize you're about to see it now anyway.

Clearing your throat, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear all at once and pull it down. If Wooyoung notices how clumsy you are with it, he decides not to comment at least.

And there it is. His dick. A dick, first of all. The first dick you've ever seen in your life that wasn't through the screen while watching a bad porn video.

You don't stop pulling on his pants until they're pooling at his ankles without breaking stare with his...penis.

You don't really know what you expected if you're being honest. You never thought a dick would be pretty and...it's not exactly ugly either. Just, odd looking you suppose.

You can't tell if it's either big or small as you have nothing to compare it to. Maybe average? What is considered small? You're scared what a big dick looks like if this is a small one. Or even average one. It's kind of thick though which is worrying, you don't even notice the way your lips part as you imagine how exactly is this...thing supposed to fit anywhere inside of you.

There's neatly trimmed hair at the base of it and the tip is flushed, a thick vein running at the underside of it and two-

"Uh," It's like a sound of a scratched record as you freeze, "Your first time seeing a dick or something, Y/L/N?"

Your head slowly lifts from his lap and up to his face where a Jung Wooyoung awaits with raised brows.

It's only then that you realize you've been examining this guy's dick like he was at a doctor's appointment instead of trying to get him off.

You're at a little loss of words to be honest and for a split second you're worried that Jung Wooyoung will take your stutters of "I, uh" and "Um"'s and "Uh, hm"'s the wrong way and think you're impressed by him or something. You're not, once again, you have nothing to compare it to. You barely know what you're looking at right now.

His facial expressions go a little like this in the next twenty seconds: Cockiness (that quickly fades though), Confusion and last but not least Realization.

"Oh my God, it is?!" He laughs in disbelief before his eyes grow even wider and mouth continues to hang open. He quickly places a pillow laying on his bed over his lap, to shield his manhood from the big bad scary virgin apparently, "You're a virgin?!"

It feels like a punch to the gut and you flush a deep red, already scrambling up to your feet and shielding your bare chest. While you try to find that damned crop top, Wooyoung is still rambling in the background.

"There's no way! Wow, seriously you've never had sex before?! Never?! Wow, there's no way! Wait, why are you putting your shoes on-"

You refuse to turn towards him, pathetic tears of embarrassment already welled up in your eyes and bottom lip wobbling, "Uh, I'm gonna go."

"Wait, what? Why?" You hear shuffling behind you and you assume he's trying to get back into his jeans.

You quickly slide your second sneaker on and are flinging the door open, not looking back. "I have to go. I'm sorry, bye."

"Sorry? What are you- Will you just wait a fucking second for me to put my clothes back-" The door falls shut and you're stalking down the hallway of the apartment building, trying to get as far away from his door as you can.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What were you thinking? Kissing Jung Wooyoung, going home with Jung Wooyoung, doing anything with Jung Wooyoung. What were you thinking?

You cry only a little when you get back to your dorm. Really, it's only a little, just a couple of flimsy tears.

Then you scrub the makeup from your face and change into your pajamas. Yunjin still isn't back and you're angry at her too, for bringing you to that party in the first place. For leaving you with Jung Wooyoung as well.

You're angry and embarrassed. And on top of that, you're horny too.

Why did Jung Wooyoung have to be such a good kisser? Why did his hands have to feel so nice? Why was he so beautiful?

You huff, buried deep in your sheets and all ready to go to bed but sleep just isn't coming. You're too busy thinking about the guy you've sworn not to think about at all anymore.

It was going so well these last two years.

With another huff, you cover your face with your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs.

He tasted like lemonade.

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff

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